Rabbi Johnny Ouzzan

Retroactive Determination of Intent

Judaism is known for its commandments, its Mitzvot. A Mitzva is a positive or negative commandment whose practice nourishes our souls and brings us closer to Hashem, our Creator. The size and power of a Miztva can be affected through the motivations and intentions that come with the action. For example, it's one thing to say the Hebrew words of a prayer book in a synagogue during services, it's a whole other effort to actually feel the connection that is existing between oneself and G-d and to talk to Him in real supplication. Both are considered a Mitzva, and yet the latter is a superior expression of that very Mitzva. Sometimes, our actions give an indication of our intentions as they relate to our Mitzvas.

In this week's Torah portion, we are taught that the Jewish women were the first to step up and donate of their jewelry for the Tabernacle, the mobile temple that accompanied the Jewish people in the desert. Their zeal and alacrity in showing their love and devotion to Hashem gave us an indication into their motivations in an earlier more troubling episode, that of the golden calf. We are taught in the Torah that the Jewish women refused to give of their jewelry to the golden calf. The case could be made that their refusal might have stemmed from their reluctance to be separated from their expensive jewelry. And yet that notion is dispelled when we see that a while later they were more than willing to give up their jewelry for the sake of the temple. Those actions give us a retroactive determination of their original intent. They refused to give of their jewelry for the golden calf because they knew it was the wrong thing to do.

On Shabbat it is customary to enjoy a total of three meals. One on Friday night, one on Saturday at noon, and one on Saturday evening. The last of the three meals is actually called "Shalosh Seudot" which means "three meals", because when we indulges in that third meal after having eaten a big lunch meal just a few hours earlier, we are retroactively showing that the partaking of the meal is not to fill our stomachs, but rather to take pleasure in the Mitzva of honoring Shabbat. So it is that third meal that indicates the true nature of the motive of all "three meals".

There is no greater feeling than knowing deep down that we are doing the right thing. In life's adventure of self discovery, we have an indication into the nature of our hearts and desires through the actions that we take and the motives that lie within. Let us pray that we strive for purity of heart and achieve the ultimate goal of becoming true servants of Hashem, lifting ourselves, and those around us, and making the world a better place.

Becoming A Temple

“And they will make for me a temple, so that I may dwell in them”

The parsha begins with G-d’s directive that the Jewish people build a Tabernacle, a mobile temple that would travel with the Jewish people as they wandered in the desert.

The obvious question is why does the verse refer to G-d as living in them in the plural form? Shouldn’t the verse have read “...that I shall live in it”? We are, after all, referring to one temple...

But are we?

What is the purpose of a temple? If the answer is that a temple is a place where one connects to God, must one be in a specific location in order to achieve that coveted connection? Is Jewish service and prayer limited to a physical space?
If I am in a dire situation and need to call out to the Almighty, do I have to wait till I get to the synagogue before making my prayer? What is the purpose of the synagogue or temple if I’m able to converse with Hashem at any time and at any place?

The truth is that in Judaism we are taught that Hashem is everywhere, and readily accessible. The very concept of prayer means to turn to God in times of need and to thank Him for what we have.

Prayer in a synagogue is prayer in its ideal state. The atmosphere of this holy space is primed to facilitate deep and meaningful connection to Hashem. Filled with books of prayer, books of Torah and other Jews with whom to connect, our lives and communities are bound to this connection that we have to our synagogues. According to many opinions, the prayers that we say in a quorum of men in the synagogue have a much greater capacity to be heard and answered than when we pray alone.

Hashem knew that there would be times when we’d be unable to make it to our synagogues, whether for reasons of health or persecution. To dispel the notion that our prayers outside of synagogue matter little to Him, Hashem therefore informed us that we have the capacity through our actions and growth to become temples inside our very selves.

We, as a nation, are a "Mamlechet Kohanim veGoy Kadosh", a kingdom of priests, a holy nation. To be holy is to separate and distinguish ourselves in the way we act, in the way we talk, in the way we interact with others. Our self growth and striving for greatness is what creates the temple within. When Hashem is telling the Jewish people to build a temple so that He may dwell in them he’s talking to the individual Jew.

“Make yourself into a temple! Become holy! Create gates to filter what comes in - through your eyes from seeing immoral things, through your ears from hearing gossip and profanities, and through your mouth from speaking negatively to or about another person.”

If we succeed in individually turning ourselves into micro Temples, we will merit to rebuild our final glorious Third Temple in Jerusalem, may it happen speedily in our days, amen. Shabbat Shalom!

The Klausenberger Rebbe (Rabbi Yekusiel Yehuda Halberstam) from Klausenberg, Romania lost his wife and 11 children in the Holocaust. He survived, remarried, had 7 more children and established a renewed Hassidic dynasty in Netanya, as well as a hospital for children. He is a legend in the Jewish world, especially among Orthodox and Hassidic Jews. Rabbi Halberstam experienced Auschwitz, the Warsaw Ghetto, the Dachau concentration camp, and a death march, after which he was liberated. In the attached graphic he is quoted as saying:

"There is one thing I miss from the Holocaust. When we were gathered together in the concentration camps we were completely shaven, we were huddled up against one another, and no one knew whether the man next to him was Lithuanian, or Hassidic, no one even knew that I was a Rebbe! We interlocked our arms together in order to warm each other through body heat as a shield against the bitter cold. This I truly miss."

Together Forever

As Jews we love talking about buckets and categories. What school do your kids go to? Which synagogue/denomination are you a part of? What field of work are you in? And while we cherish the identification and exclusivity that comes with these discussions, they sometimes cause us to forget the forest among the trees.

At Mount Sinai, for the first time ever we were one complete unit. We were one nation with one heart. That pivotal moment was not meant to be a one-off event but rather the defining nature of the Jewish people.

This is not to suggest that diversity and the multiplicities of Jewish expression are a bad thing. Judaism embraces the mix of oneness together with uniqueness. The prayer of the individual in the backdrop of a Minyan, a quorum of ten.

Studies show that the holiday in the Jewish calendar that is celebrated by the most Jews is Passover. There is something truly magical about this holiday. What is it?
It is certainly not, as Sebastian Maniscalco would say, two hours of reading material and crackers on the table. Jokes aside, we subconsciously experience a national oneness on this holiday. A shared family experience. At the micro level, and at a global level.

The main objective of the Seder night and Haggadah is to foster a curiosity in our children, a conversation that will etch into their hearts an appreciation for what it means to be Jewish. The understanding that Pharaoh sought to enslave all Jews, regardless of tribe and lineage.
We are meant to feel like we ourselves are coming out of Egypt - together with our Jewish families, communities and beyond.

The most impactful memories we have in life are those together with loved ones with whom we’ve shared life changing experiences. On Passover we come together as a family, as one nation ready to experience a renewed shared experience. An experience that not only defines us, but also simultaneously forges within us the bonds of brotherhood and sisterhood.

May we all unite, come together and celebrate this special holiday of Passover in health and joy.

Rabbi Johnny Ouzzan