Words: they are one of the essential attributes that make us human. They allow us to build friendships. They enable our relationships with one another.

Words: The Bible teaches that God created the world with words (And God Said: ‘Let there be light….’) and Jews have been writing millions upon millions upon millions of words ever since. And so as you might expect, Judaism has quite a lot to say about words.

Words About Friends (aka gossip or ‘talebearing’):  The Jewish term for it, rekhilut comes from the word peddler—you can probably figure out why. The Torah forbids it. A Jewish folk tale likens gossip to a feather pillow; once it is torn open and the feathers scattered it’s impossible to put them back. Maybe that’s why the medieval commentator, Maimonides, says that even if it’s true, gossip destroys the world.

Words Against Friends (aka slurs and slander ): The Jewish term for it, ‘lashon ha rah,’ means an evil tongue, and it includes any type of negative remark about someone–even a hint of one—even if it is true. The sages tell us that if you engage in it, you can contract leprosy. Clearly it’s best to avoid it.

Words In Front of Friends (aka saying something bad about someone in front of him/her): The Jewish term for it, onat’at devarim, means oppressive speech and the rabbis say it is like spilling someone’s blood.

Words that tell Lies to Friends (no definition needed!): This is considered the worst kind of theft: ‘stealing’ people’s thoughts.

Words To Friends (aka comfort and support): The Talmud teaches that whomever gives a coin to a poor person receives six blessings, but one who speaks kind words to them receives eleven blessings. That math speaks for itself.

Words: they have the power to hurt, to harm, to spill blood and to destroy the world.

Words: They have the power to forge great relationships, to build righteous communities and to bring holiness into the world.

The Bible teaches that ‘death and life are in the power of the tongue.’ It also teaches that we should choose life. So go ahead, choose some words and create: a friendship, a love, a world.

While it’s not exactly a TV spectacular and it doesn’t have a ball dropping at the end, Jews have their own countdown of sorts. It happens annually at this time of year, and it’s called the Omer. But instead of counting down and counting time away, the Omer is more of a count-up.

So what is this Omer? The word actually means, “sheaf” and the Omer was a harvest offering brought to the Holy Temple thousands of years ago. The Torah tells us that we are to count this Omer from the second day of Passover for seven full weeks (for the math challenged, that would be 49 days) daily (well, actually nightly) until the time of the next Biblical harvest holiday, Shavuot (the name meaning “weeks” for that very reason).

Many, many, hundreds of years after the Torah was written and after the Holy Temple was destroyed, the rabbis of the time found an additional reason to celebrate the holiday of Shavuot: based on their own counting and math, they figured that Shavuot was the very day that Moses and the Israelites received the Torah on Mt. Sinai (one might call it the Mountain spectacular, replete with descending Tablets)—that would be 49 days after fleeing from slavery in Egypt. The counting of the days of the Omer then took on a new significance: it became a time for Jews to reflect on their own personal renewal.

The great 20^th century Orthodox theologian, Rabbi Joseph Soloveitchik, contemplated the counting of the Omer by reflecting on what it takes to go from slavery to freedom. He wrote: “A slave who is capable of appreciating each day, of grasping its meaning and worth, of weaving every thread of time into a glorious fabric…is eligible for Torah.  He has achieved freedom…No fraction of time—however infinite—should slip through the fingers, left unexploited; for eternity may depend upon the brief moment.”

Turns out the Dick Clark lived his life based on Rabbi Soloveitchik’s message that freedom is the ability to make meaning out of time. While he might have counted down on TV, in his life he never counted himself out. Even after suffering a debilitating stroke in 2004, with his speech forever affected, Clark still did the countdown honor until 2012—his 40^th and final New Year’s Eve.

In Psalm 90 the Psalter pleads to God: “Teach us to count our days rightly, that we may obtain a wise heart.”  What is a wise heart? Perhaps it is understanding the difference between counting our days, and making our days count.

The Jews have their own ‘final four,’ of a slightly different variety, this season: the four questions traditionally asked at a Passover seder. This Mamash Minute has dubbed them the ‘final four’ because while most might think they are as old as the tablets that Moses brought down from Mt. Sinai, the truth is they went through their own bracketing and elimination (of sorts). In fact originally there were only 3 questions; a fourth question was added several hundred years after the first three, and then many hundred years later, one of the original three was subtracted and a new fourth question was added.  So beware of those who claim that in Judaism things have ‘always’ been a particular way and that change isn’t possible: change and adaptation have been a hallmark of Jewish practice since its foundation.

Turning back to those pesky questions…actually, originally there were no fixed questions at all; there was just a mandate that the child ask random questions of his/her parent and any query would do. The point of the questions was to encourage the family in the ‘telling’ (the ‘haggadah’) of how the Jews went from degradation and slavery to freedom and redemption. Even once the questions did become fixed, asking an unusual question cancelled the need to recite them because the sages ruled that their real-life questions could take the place of a standardized one.

While most traditional rabbinic authorities now hold that the text of the four questions as we know them today is ‘necessary,’ let the history and the sages inspire you to liven up your seder by having everyone bring their own final four picks. What are the questions that need asking and discussing today? In a world still filled with degradation what are the paths to freedom and redemption? What IS freedom? Whose mother makes the best gefilte fish? What’s your best seder memory EVER?

The point of seder is not the questions. Nor is the point the answers—most of which are elusive at best. The point, as the haggadah tells us, is to go and learn: discuss, debate, drink wine, discuss some more.

And unlike the NCAA final outcome on April 2^nd, on April 6^th each and every seder player enjoys the prize: an evening shared with family and friends, as Jews everywhere have done on Passover for thousands of years.

With wishes for a sweet, happy and interesting Passover.

For most of us Presidents’ Day is just a Monday off, a day to go shopping and take advantage of the Presidents’ Day sales; its true purpose and meaning have been forgotten. But even if we wanted to, just how should one celebrate the Presidents’ birthdays?

How about how most of us celebrate birthdays: with presents! After all, everyone loves presents.

But how can we give presents to George and to Abe?

Maybe the Torah has an answer. It seems that Judaism’s Founding Father (that would be God) also likes presents. In the Torah, God wants the Israelites to build “a sanctuary that I might dwell among you.” So God actually commands that the Israelites bring presents: gifts of gold, silver, precious stones and more. Okay, maybe they weren’t exactly birthday presents. But the Torah tells us that the Israelites brought so many gifts that God commanded them to stop already with the gifts!

You know that old expression it’s better to give than to receive—well it seems that what God/Judaism are saying is that the quid pro quo for receiving at all is that first you have to give: to experience God’s presence, the Israelites must first bring presents. And the Hebrew word used for gifts in that commandment (trumah) comes from a root meaning ‘to elevate.’ Not only are gifts necessary, they elevate us.

Our founding fathers made for us a sanctuary. They created a country in which we are able to live with freedom and opportunity. So what should be our birthday present for them this year? How about a present inspired by President JFK himself: “Ask not what your country can do for you – ask what you can do for your country.”

Give to your community. Give time, give money, bring your talents, bring your gifts. And at the very least, get out and vote!

Happy Birthdays Mr. Presidents, indeed.

Who do you pick to win?

Not an easy question, as the last matchup demonstrated, when the Giants won one of the biggest upsets in football history. Victory doesn’t always go to the favorite.

What does it take to win?

The Torah has some suggestions. They can be found in its own Giant vs. Patriot matchup, in the story of Goliath and David.

The story begins with David, a shepherd and the youngest of 8 brothers who, at his father’s request, comes to bring food to his three brothers who are serving in Israelite army. Upon arriving at the camp David sees Goliath, the champion of the enemy Philistine forces, nine feet tall, bedecked in armor, the iron head of his spear alone weighing 15 pounds. Quite a fearsome picture, don’t you think?

Upon hearing Goliath’s challenge to the Israelite army to choose one man to fight him in a ‘winner take all’ match, David tells Saul, the Israelite king: “Let no man’s courage fail him. Your servant will go and fight that Philistine.”

Courage. It takes courage to win.

Saul attempts to give David his own fighting gear, helmet, breastplate and sword with which to go out and meet the adversary girded for battle; but David declines saying, “I cannot walk in these for I am not used to them.” Instead, David picks a few small stones, and sling in hand goes to meet Goliath. David, the shepherd, goes to meet Goliath as a simple shepherd.

Play your own game. It takes knowing yourself, to win. It takes not letting others tell you what you ‘should’ do, what you ‘should’ wear, or how you ‘should’ act.

When Goliath sees David coming toward him he scorns him and says: “Am I a dog that you come against me with sticks?” David retorts: “I will kill you…”

Confidence. It takes confidence to win, even–and especially–in the face of trash talk.

As Goliath advances, David takes out a single stone and slings it—hitting Goliath squarely in the forehead. Goliath falls, face down on to the ground. So the Torah tells us: “Thus David bested the Philistine with sling and stone.”

Tactics. It takes a strategic and thoughtful approach to win.

David may have felled his Goliath, but we all have our own: those things and those people we have to confront, sometimes even within ourselves. Courage. Confidence. Thoughtfulness. And most importantly, authenticity. That is the Torah’s prescription for success.

Who knows, maybe it could even work for the Giants….

Let it snow, let it snow, let it snow: the skiers’ prayer for snow. With snow accumulations thin at most ski resorts this year, that refrain can be heard far and wide.

And it’s not just skiers despondent at the lack of snow: kids (including some very ‘big’ kids) want snow not just for the snow days off school (!) but for the fun of making snowmen, of snowball fights, and of lying in the snow and making snow angels.

But if praying for precipitation seems a bit far-fetched, you may surprised to learn that a few short months ago many Jews were issuing their own such prayers, appealing to God in their annual plea for rain.

Tefilat Geshem, the Prayer for Rain. It is sung once a year on the holiday of Shemini Atzeret, in the fall immediately after the conclusion of the Jewish fall harvest holiday of Sukkot (sometimes dubbed the ‘Jewish Thanksgiving’). There is a prologue to this prayer which beseeches:

Form clouds and precipitate them,
making them rain water to crown the valley with green.
May rain not be withheld from us because of our unpaid debts.

Translation for ‘our unpaid debts:’ our sins. In fact the book of Deuteronomy in the Bible warns that if we go astray, God will punish us by ‘closing the heavens so that there will be no rain.’

Now before you guffaw at the concept of lack of precipitation as a consequence of our ‘sins,’ how about this headline from National Geographic News in 2007: “Humans have caused global precipitation patterns to change substantially over the past century, new research says.” This article, and subsequent studies, point to human emissions of greenhouse gases (coal and oil burning) as a decisive culprit in the changing precipitation patterns. For the sin of burning too much oil….

There’s no harm in praying for snow or for rain, because hey, we can always use all the help we can get. But praying isn’t enough. It’s also in our hands. The Bible tells us that God placed Adam, the first person created, in the garden of Eden in order to ‘till and to tend it.’ The planet is our garden to tend. Let it grow, let it grow, let it grow.

The symptoms tend to start around September and last until April, and are at their worst in the darkest months of winter; the problem seems to stem from a lack of bright light in the winter months. And even those of us who aren’t clinical sufferers of SAD can feel gloomy with the short days of winter, when we leave for work/school in the dark and then return home also in the dark.

But there’s good news to be had– the treatment for SAD, in most cases, is relatively straightforward: it involves allowing bright light to reach the eyes for between a 1/4 and 3/4 of an hour daily.

Light is the antidote.

So maybe it’s no coincidence that the rabbis of old decreed that in the darkest days of winter, Hanukkah should be a holiday of light.

The ‘official’ version of why we light candles on Hanukkah comes to us from the rabbis of the Talmud. There the rabbis tell the tale of a miracle, the miracle of the oil that was needed for the rededication (rededication in Hebrew being ‘Hanukkah’) of the Holy Temple desecrated by the enemy. The Jews had found only one day’s worth of the special oil needed to light the Menorah, a lamp that was meant to burn perpetually; yet somehow that single cruse of oil lasted 8 days (the exact amount of time needed for a new supply to be found).

Therefore the rabbis proclaimed that we should light lights for 8 nights. And so we do.

Ever wonder why when we light the Hanukkah candles we sing two blessings over them? It’s because the rabbis of the Talmud declared that in lighting the Hanukkah candles two ‘mitzvot,’ two obligations are fulfilled. The first ‘mitzvah’ is simply to light the candles for yourself. The second ‘mitzvah’ is to put the lit candles into a doorway or a window, in order to share the light, and as the ancient sages said, to ‘publish the miracle’ of Hanukkah.

We light the candles to remind us that it’s possible for the good guys to beat the bad. We light the candles to remind us that miracles can happen. We light the candles to remind us that even when things are really really dark, we can bring light.

Vanquish the dark. Ignite hope. Light some Hanukkah candles.

In his Thanksgiving Proclamation Lincoln adjured the country to remember its blessings:

“The year that is drawing toward its close has been filled with the blessings of fruitful fields and healthful skies. To these bounties, which are so constantly enjoyed that we are prone to forget the Source from which they come, others have been added which are of so extraordinary a nature that they can not fail to penetrate and soften even the heart which is habitually insensible to the ever-watchful providence of Almighty God.”

Lincoln’s message is the essential one of Thanksgiving: not to take our bounties for granted, as we so often do.  Of course that’s easier said than done.

Or maybe not.

Appreciating our blessings is about mindfulness. Appreciating our blessings is about blessings.

Which is why Judaism teaches that we should say 100 blessings, 100 barakhot, a day. That’s basically a blessing for everything you could possibly imagine, including the ability to go to the bathroom (no kidding). When the first words out of your mouth upon waking every day are a thank you for the ability to wake up, and when before something goes in your mouth a blessing for it comes out first, and when part of the price tag for a new article of clothing is the blessing that comes along with the first time you put it on, well, it’s pretty hard not to feel pretty darn….blessed.

So for Jews, every day can be, and should be, thanksgiving day.

Teshuvah Take 10: “We can rebuild him…we have the technology”….

Remember that opening sequence to the TV series the $6 million man?  In it Lee Majors played Steve Austin, a former astronaut who, in a serious plane crash was severely injured and then “rebuilt” with “bionic” implants that enhanced his strength, speed and vision. After being rebuilt he used his enhanced abilities to work for a secret government office (“OSI”) as a secret agent battling the bad guys.

Who among us doesn’t want to be bionic? Who doesn’t want to be better, stronger, faster?

For Rabbi Joseph Soloveitchik (the great 20^th Century American Orthodox rabbi, often called ‘the Rav’) that is the essence of teshuvah (okay, not exactly the bionic part). For the Rav, teshuvah is not about atonement; rather, for him teshuvah is about rebuilding a new us. It is an act of creation—of self-creation. In Rav Soloveitchik’s words, teshuvah “is the creation of a new “I,” possessor of a new consciousness, a new heart and spirit, different desires, longings, goals.”

Maybe you’ve always wanted to travel? Maybe you always dreamed of a new career but were too afraid to try? Maybe the next great American novel is buried in you, fighting to emerge. Maybe you’ve always wanted to paint, to sing, to play badminton. Now is the time for teshuvah. Now is the time to give voice to those desires, those longings, those passions buried for too long.

We can rebuild ourselves. We have the technology—each and every one of us.  This is the time for us to strengthen and go boldly forth into the world to fight the bad guys: those within us, those nay saying voices that are holding us back, and those that oppress others and impede their ability to live in the pursuit of their desires.

During this season of teshuvah, may we find forgiveness where we need it and forgive those who need it from us. May we find the strength to turn away from that which harms us, and to turn to that which nurtures. May we discover the love and support of those who know us for our most authentic selves, and allow them to help us in the difficult work of change. May we find the stamina to stick with it. And may we all be blessed with the rewards of a new heart, a new spirit, and many, many, many happy endings.

This Mamash Minute is posted in partnership with 10Q, which offers a new way to reflect this High Holiday season. Look for a Mamash Minute a day for the 10 days from September 28-October 7, 2011 as part of 10Q, 10Days, 10Minutes, 10Takes on Teshuvah on this Mamash website, on Mamash’s facebook page, and on 10Q’s facebook page. More about 10Q can be found on their website at http://www.doyou10Q.com

Teshuvah Take 9: Which came first, the chicken or the egg?

In the summer of 2010, researchers at Sheffield and Warwick universities purportedly solved this scientific and philosophical mystery. They found that a protein, which speeds up the development of the hard shell and is necessary for the formation of the egg, is found only in a chicken’s ovaries. Therefore the chicken must have come first.

Of course most of the time when people ask this question, sometimes called the ‘causality dilemma,’ they aren’t really looking for a scientific response. Most of the time what they really mean to ask is, what is the necessary precondition for some thing or some action.

The ancient rabbis had some interesting notions about chicken/egg type situations, and for the ancient rabbis teshuvah was like the chicken. According to them, teshuvah preceded the creation of the whole world.

Now, how could that possibly be? In their minds especially, how could anything come before the creation of the world, except, maybe, for God?

The wisdom of the rabbis allowed them to see that the world would be completely untenable, unsustainable, and impossible without teshuvah. They realized that people, though created in the image of God, are flawed, are mortal. That we are doomed to make mistakes, to hurt others, to hurt ourselves. With no corrective we simply could not survive; without teshuvah we would have no hope. Just like the egg needs that special protein for its formation, so do we require teshuvah for ours.

The Hassidic tradition, a spiritual and somewhat mystical branch of Orthodox Judaism founded in the 18^th century, also links the event of creation with teshuvah. It believes that the essence of teshuvah is to strive to return; to return to that moment of creation, our pristine state in ‘the garden.’ It believes that teshuvah is about rediscovering the Divine spark with which we were each created and which can still illuminate us. It’s about discovering our true selves, our genuine “I,” and making that infinite Godly potential the dominant influence in our lives.

The Hassidic masters would echo the words of Joni Mitchell: “We are stardust, We are golden, And we’ve got to get ourselves, Back to the garden.”

As for where the chicken came from, well, that remains one of life’s great mysteries.

This Mamash Minute is posted in partnership with 10Q, which offers a new way to reflect this High Holiday season. Look for a Mamash Minute a day for the 10 days from September 28-October 7, 2011 as part of 10Q, 10Days, 10Minutes, 10Takes on Teshuvah on this Mamash website, on Mamash’s facebook page, and on 10Q’s facebook page. More about 10Q can be found on their website at http://www.doyou10Q.com