For those words, as usual, it's a great pleasure to be here with you on this special night that we've been doing for 20 years, maybe. I don't know exactly how many years, but it's a night that has changed the lives of our families and our community. Sometimes we look at nights and say, “It's just another night. We were here last year and the year before.” But it's not another night, it's not another community, and it's not another year. So much is happening. There's so much that we have to be proud of, and so much of it comes from nights like these. Hashem should give you, Rabbi, continued success and hatzlacha (success) in all that you do for our community and for the Jewish people. Amen. Amen.
I want to share with you a Mishnah. It's somewhat of a shocking Mishnah. It seems to be a little bit of an exaggeration. I'll read it to you as is. It says that a person who's up at night and chilling out—maybe he's supposed to be sleeping, but he's up—and someone who's traveling on a road trip by himself, and again, he's relaxing, traveling, going somewhere, not learning. So he's up at night and he's not learning; he's traveling alone and he's not learning. Basically, the Mishnah is saying, “This guy's soul is condemned.” Disaster of a person. I don't know. I don't know what to say.
First of all, it's nice to know that you have to spend your time learning if you have time. So if you're up at night, use it. I get that. If you're traveling, open a book. Learn something. If someone doesn't do it, okay, I would say he didn't do such a good thing. Sometimes in life, we do not such good things. But to say, “You're condemning the guy's soul”? You're saying, “This guy? Forget about it. He's a disaster.” What did he do? This guy, by the way, when he's up during the day, he learns. When he's traveling with his chavruta (study partner), they learn. He just happens to be alone in these situations, so he's taking it easy. How can such a terrible crime—excuse me, such a small action—translate into such a terrible thing? So I'd like to explain this Mishnah to you tonight, and I hope it gives us a path for one of the most important areas of our lives.
There's a Midrash (rabbinic interpretation) that says there were people in the desert who were about to do Korban Pesach (Pesach offering), but these people were teme'im, they were not pure. Why were they not pure? Because they were carrying the bones of Yosef. As you know, the bones of Yosef had to be transported from Egypt all the way to the land of Israel. Yosef is buried in Shechem to this day. They have Kever Yosef. So they carried him for 40 years. Then the time came for Korban Pesach, and the people who were carrying his coffin could not bring the Korban Pesach because they were not pure. They had touched a dead body; they were not pure.
So they came to Moshe Rabbeinu and said, “Moshe, why should we miss out?” And Hashem says to Moshe Rabbeinu, “Tell them they're going to have Pesach Sheni. Thirty days later, they're going to have another Pesach.” The Midrash calls it Pesach Katan, a small one. The Midrash says Hashem told Yosef HaTzadik, “How lucky you are, how fortunate you are. Because of you, Yosef, the Jewish people get to celebrate Pesach Sheni. You're so lucky. What a zekhut (merit) you have. In the desert, they made Pesach Sheni because of you.”
Obviously, this Midrash doesn't make sense. Because what's better, Pesach Rishon or Pesach Sheni? I think Pesach Rishon. During Pesach, you bring Korban Pesach, you do the Haggadah, and there's no chametz (leavened food). Pesach Sheni is like a makeup. It's not even during Pesach. What kind of merit is that? The merit? The merit is Pesach Sheni? The merit is Pesach Rishon. If not for Yosef's bones, they would be doing the best Pesach. So why does God tell him, “You're so fortunate because of you there's Pesach Sheni”?
I'd like to share with you a very important thought that's relevant to all of us. You see, many of us—some start off that way and some end this way—are doing a lot of good things in our lives. The people in this room for sure. Remember, we're doing many good things every day. We're praying with the Minyan (prayer quorum). We're learning Torah. We're giving Tzedakah (charity). We're keeping Shabbat. We're here preparing for Kippur. But so much of what we do has to do with other people doing it too. I wonder sometimes how many people would keep Shabbat if nobody else was keeping Shabbat. How many of us are keeping Shabbat because that's what people do? How many people are praying every day because that's what people do? How many people would be here tonight if only one person showed up? You.
Sometimes we begin that way. We just like to do what people are doing. Good things. Sometimes we start off on our own, but somehow, as we get excited and connected, it just becomes what we do—not so much what I do. Especially when I'm praying. Especially in this beautiful community, like many other communities. The power of the community is so great. Look at a night like this. So many thousands of people are here listening. So beautiful. When you walk the streets on Shabbat and you see Shabbat in our streets. You come to tefilah (prayer) and people are all over the place. This Minyan, that Minyan. People learning. You can't find a place to sit. The power of the community changes people. The power of the community changes people's lives. People want to be a part of it.
But there's a very big danger to a community. The danger of community is that you forget that it's really about you. Communities aren't great. There's no person called “community.” Your life is about you. Yes, it's beautiful to be inspired by others. It's beautiful to live in a great community. But it's not about the community. It's about the people. It's about the people. It's about the people. It's about the people. It's about what you're doing. So is what you're doing because of you? Or are you doing it because that's what we do?
Pesach Rishon is the Pesach that everybody's doing. That's gorgeous. It's the best Pesach. It's on time. But there's something very special about Pesach Sheni: nobody else was making Pesach that time. Nobody's going to the Beit HaMikdash. There's nobody in Yerushalayim. They packed out. If you went to Yerushalayim a month after Pesach, you'd see nobody there. The people are back home already. There's no excitement, no music in the streets. People are eating chametz. But individuals went and made Pesach Sheni.
Hashem tells Yosef HaTzadik, “You're so fortunate that because of you we have people making Pesach Sheni. Because of you, we have individuals who are keeping mitzvot (commandments). We have individuals who want to pray. We have individuals who are keeping Shabbat. We have individuals praying. We have individuals who are doing their Avodat Hashem (service of Hashem).” And why did Yosef, out of all people, get this merit? Surely it wasn't only because of his bones. Perhaps there's nobody in the history of the Jewish people who was more of an individual than Yosef HaTzadik. A man who had no community. He lost his family. He lost his parents. He had nobody in Egypt. He was by himself. No one to learn from. No one to be with. No Minyan. No chavruta. No rabbi. No night of inspiration. Nothing. An individual in Egypt. You're by yourself. What happens to you if you live by yourself?
Yosef HaTzadik in Egypt didn't even have his own freedom. Even himself he didn't have. And yet we see Yosef the individual. VeYosef hayah beMitzrayim (And Yosef was in Egypt), the Pasuk (verse) says. Who was Yosef? The same Yosef who lived in the community. The same Yosef who was in his family. The same Yosef who was with his father. Through and through, the same Yosef. Yosef the individual is what made him great. Being part of a community makes you fortunate. But being an individual in the community makes you special. And makes you great.
We always have to reassess. One second. Shabbat's coming. It's my Shabbat. It's the Shabbat I'm keeping, not that we are keeping. I'm going to learn. I'm going to give. I'm going to give charity, even though there are a hundred other people here. But I came to give. This is my mitzvah. I do it because of me. That was Yosef HaTzadik.
I'm not sure if you know this, but the Midrash says that in the desert, when the Jewish people were traveling, there were two boxes that traveled with them. One was the box of the Luchot, the Aron HaKodesh, with the Torah—the holy Torah, the tablets. And one was the box of Yosef's bones. Passersby who saw two boxes traveling with the Jewish people would ask, “Why are there two boxes with you? What are these?” They would say, “Well, this one is the Aron HaKodesh. This is the holiest box on the planet. And this one is the box of a dead man.”
The Midrash says that people would say, “Really? Isn't that disrespectful? It's very nice for the bones of Yosef, but isn't that disrespectful to the Aron HaKodesh, the holiest item on planet Earth, the item we got from heaven, that Moshe Rabbeinu brought down, for it to travel next to the bones of a dead body? That's the way you guys put things together? What do you do? The living Torah and the bones of a dead man?”
Amru lahem (They said to them), and they would answer them, “Oh no. Met sheba'aron zeh (The dead one in this aron).” The person who's in that box, that met (dead person), Kiyem—he fulfilled—Ma shekatuv ba'aron kodesh zeh (What is written in this holy aron). He fulfilled what it says in that box.
So what's the answer? Still the same question. The answer is that a person could look at the Kodesh (holiness), could look at this Torah, and not really understand what it wants from you. You could fulfill all the mitzvot and still not know what you're supposed to be doing, because you're with everybody. But Yosef is a man who taught us what this Torah means. There's a Torah, and there's someone who explained to us that it's about the individual. It's about the person. So that's why they carried both boxes together.
But being an individual has more branches than the one I mentioned. Being an individual is the ability to see yourself in a unique way, and to see yourself being able to accomplish from where you are. You see, people in life have challenges. We all have challenges. We would have chosen something else. Maybe we don't like the home that we were born into. Maybe we don't like the school that we went to. Maybe we're not happy with our height. Maybe we're not happy with our IQ. Maybe we're not so happy with our financial situation. Maybe we're not so happy with our health. I'm sure everybody here has got a list of things that they would have loved to be different. Maybe a change in the husband. Maybe in the wife. Maybe a more understanding mother-in-law. The list just goes on.
We get frustrated so many times by our situation. We didn't date yet. We didn't find someone yet. We don't have a child yet. We have a child, but I wish we didn't have one. Why is that kid next door always a superstar? My son is in P3. His whole school career—if they had P5, he'd be in that too. He's always getting help. Why can't I have normal kids? My kids don't behave. My son is not well. My kids aren't getting married. It's just a struggle, on and on.
So we think the struggles are the reason why we're not satisfied. They're the reason why we're broken. Sometimes you look at a person and can tell they're just broken. Maybe you don't know what it is, but it's something. You walk around and the smile is absent. The energy is fading. It's just not there. You can find it in teenagers for sure. Once people turn about Bar Mitzvah age, they start walking around frustrated—with their friends, with themselves. They look in the mirror; they don't like the way they look. All kinds of issues. It starts when they're teenagers and just keeps going.
And it's not the way a person should know—it's not the issues that are making them feel frustrated. It's not your son that's making you feel frustrated. It's not your weakness that's making you feel frustrated. It's not that. So what is it? What it is, is that you keep looking at other people because you're not an individual. You keep looking over your shoulder and you see that kid is so much better than yours, and they have so much more money than you do, and they're so much prettier and so much more successful.
When you live as a group of people, it's very frustrating, because ultimately there are going to be many things that other people have that you don't have. The frustration isn't that you don't have it. The frustration is that you're looking at others. It's not that you're not married that's frustrating you. That's not really what it is. Other people are. Of course, you want to be married, but that's not where the bulk of it comes from. And all of life's situations are like that.
To live as an individual means that you don't look at other people to compare yourself. It means looking at your life and understanding that you've been placed in this position for a reason. Hashem put you in your home. He wanted you to be in your family. There's a reason why you're born there. I told this story a few times. It happened years ago. A young man in high school comes over to me. Maybe he's 16, 17. He says, “Rabbi, I decided that I'm not eating at home on Shabbat anymore, Friday night or Shabbat afternoon. I'm going out.” He wants me just to stamp it.
I said, “Why would you do that?” He says, “If you sat at my house and sat at that table, you'd understand. The lashon hara (the talk), the this, the that. I just can't do it anymore.” So you get it, right? So where's the stamp? I told him, “I don't know you well enough to stamp you. But I will tell you one thing that I hope you don't forget. There's a reason why you're not the son of the Chief Rabbi of Israel. There's a reason why you're not the son of the Gadol Hador. Hashem didn't put you in your home by accident. There's a reason why you're there. You have a responsibility to these people. I don't know if you should leave Friday night or Shabbat. You have to ask someone who knows you better. But one thing is for sure: you have a responsibility. Don't run away from who you are. You have to figure out from here how to get somewhere. Your mission in life is specifically from where you are. It's specifically from what you're given. The child that's making you crazy, that's your mission. The challenge that you have in whatever area, that is part of your success. Don't think it's a problem that's holding you down. It's actually what's going to make you great.”
I once saw a beautiful explanation. If you look here at the two tablets on top of me, you'll see that the last commandment on the first tablet is, “Honor your father and your mother.” And on the second tablet, the last one says, “Don't be jealous.” I once saw a great explanation. What's the connection between those two commandments? It means, honor where Hashem put you in life. Your father and mother doesn't just mean your biological father and mother. It means where Hashem put you in this world: the family you were born into, the brothers and sisters that you have, the situation that you were given, and all else that came with it. Have honor for it. Respect it, and make something of it.
But you say, “How can I do that? I'm missing A. I'm missing B. I'm missing C. How?” The Torah says, “Continue reading. Stop looking at other people.” It's the other people who are making you feel frustrated. If you looked at yourself and at your mission, you would be doing a much greater job. You would learn better. You would be happier. You would be stronger. You would accomplish, because you, and only you, can become the great you. And it's from where you are.
It's an interesting Gemara. The Gemara says: From where do we know that if someone has something about themselves that's not so great, not so exciting, they should stand up and say it? Be the first one to stand up and say it. Where do we learn that from? First of all, I didn't know that we're supposed to do that. The Gemara says we learn it from a great man. His name is Eliezer. When Eliezer came to the family of Rivkah and introduced himself, he said, “You know who I am? I am the slave of Abraham.” Who asked him? He could have said, “My name is Eliezer.” They didn't know who he was. Why did he get up and say, “I am the slave of Abraham”?
The Gemara says, “From here we learn that if you have something about you that's not so great, get up and say it.” Why? Isn't it better to keep it hidden away? What are you saying it for? What does the Gemara mean altogether? Based on another Midrash, the Midrash says that Eliezer, when he realized he was a slave—that's how he was born, into a slave family—I mean, you could try to change things in life, obviously, but sometimes it is what it is. Eliezer decided, “If I'm going to be a slave, let me be the slave of someone really great.” And he became a slave. And he became a slave. And he became a slave. And he became a slave. And he became the slave of Avraham Avinu.
You know, most people who are slaves are trying to hide or trying to run away from slavery. But then there are people who take what they were given, stand up, and make something of it. If you were given something difficult, stand up. You don't have to announce it, but stand up and make something big of it. Don't use it as an excuse. Use it as a stepping stool.
You might be surprised that some of the greatest accomplishments in life happen because of difficulty. I'm sure you heard of the great Rabbi Akiva Eiger. Rabbi Akiva Eiger is the gold standard in Talmud learning. Any yeshiva in the world right now probably has one of his books out, learning it, understanding his question. Why didn't he ask it this way? This man, one of the greatest Jews that ever lived in Torah learning, when he passed away, they found that he gave them what to write on his Matzevah—his tombstone. He wanted something special written on his tombstone.
You write something that's meaningful, not for the honor of the person only, but more importantly for the people who walk by. The people who walk by and are visiting this great person want to know what makes him great, what makes him special. So once people walk by to understand what makes him special, they read the tombstone. “This one did this. This one did that.” So what does he want you to know about his life? He asked that very fact: that you can have a hard time in life, and you could be happy, and you could be strong, and you could move forward, and you could be strong, and you can do that.
But that was already three days ago. You're still going. You're still moving on. Come on, that is a great accomplishment that you have to be mechabed—honor. You have to honor where Hashem puts you in life.
The third branch of being an individual comes from a Gemara in Masechet Berachot. It says, “Once he saw them, he started to cry.” They asked him, “What are you crying? On the planet than you? Why are you crying?” He says, “I don't know where they're going to take me. The law if care I shouldn't cry.” Two obvious questions on this story. Number one: Why did he ask if his students were there or not? And number two: Who are they? He said, “I don't know where they're going to take me.” Who's “they”?
Do we have to find the strength and happiness in our difficult situations? But we have to recognize that we have a mission in life that's unique to you. God is calling you. He's saying, “Hey, you have something big to do in life.” The money isn't given to you as a reward for being born. It's given to you to step up. You know, we know you have to give 10 or 20% of your earnings, and not more. But a person who's very wealthy can give even—“That's not for me. I want to relax. I make money in business. I don't need to.” No, no. You gotta use it.
If you could teach people, you have years. I'm sure it's that way in every community. You bring someone from outside; it's just not the same. But who is going to want to teach? Why would I be a rabbi and teach students, teach five-year-olds, teach fifteen-year-olds? Why would I be a morah (female teacher) to young ladies? Why? I like them for some reason. They're very well. Like their beloved. Again, it's not just a blessing. It's an assignment. Get up and do something with it. Lead calling. Get up and do something. You're going to be measured by it.
Yochanan ben Zakkai was a great scholar. Tremendous Torah. Tremendous mitzvot. Tremendous Tfilot (prayers). His whole life calling. When he saw his students, he was worried that maybe, despite all the beautiful things he did, like everybody else and more, his mission—in relation to what he had been given, his wealth, his health—
The guy says, “Listen, I pray every morning. I give charity like everybody else. I can do that. But it's not the place you're in life. It's that item, whatever you were given, that's special. Don't think it's just a side item. It's what's going to take you to the next world. That's how big it is.”
And I will just end with a story that we've probably said over many times. Every time we say it, there's another aspect, another powerful point that comes out of it. It's the first story in the Torah, the story of Adam, who ate from the forbidden fruit. There was a great Rabbi sitting in jail in Europe, and one of the people in the jail says, “Rabbi, you know, your Torah doesn't make sense. When Adam ate from the tree, God told him, or called out and said, ‘Where are you?’ God doesn't know? Your God doesn't know where Adam is? What, He lost him? Why are you asking, ‘Where are you?’ I thought God knows everything. He's all-knowing. He knows you. He knows not only where you are; He knows who you are. He knows inside your heart what you're thinking. He's asking, ‘Ayeka?’”
So the Rabbi told him, “If you looked a little further and saw Adam's response, you'd understand what Ayeka means.” Because when Hashem told Adam, “Did you eat from the fruit?” Adam says, “I did, because my wife gave it to me. She gave me from the fruit, and I ate.” Hashem was telling Adam, “That's how you make decisions in life? You make decisions by following people? Because your wife gave it to you, that's why you ate? Ayeka. Where are you? I put you in this world as an individual. I made you unique. You're your own person. What kind of excuse is it in life to say, ‘Well, that's what they do. That's what everyone does. That's where I grew up’?”
Ayeka means, “Where are you? Your individual self.” We always have to assess ourselves and see how much of what we're not doing in life is because of the others around us.
I'll just end off by telling you, on this point, that so much of who we are depends on the people that we're around. And we have no excuse to blame anyone for our decisions. But we must also realize that so much of who we are is dependent on the people that we stay with. We learn so much from our environment. When we sit with people, we're learning from them. They're affecting us.
So many people will tell you, “But I love that car. I'm not driving it because it's showy. I just love it. I really, really, really love it. It's nothing to do with the way it looks. I just love it. I just love that bag. I can't explain it to you. It has nothing to do with people looking at it. I love the bag. I just love this.” And it's true. They really do love it. But the question is, why do they love it?
My dear friends, when you spend your time around people, you start to develop a love for what they love. That is why today the streets of this country have a lot of concern and a lot to worry about: people are spending their time with so many people in a magazine, on social media, friends, and from those people they start to love things that they don't need to love. The people that you're with are going to affect what you love. A person should make that decision for themselves. Make sure you put yourself around the right people, who love the right things.
“You want to love learning Torah, but I don't love it. I love vacationing. I don't love learning Torah. I love buying things. I don't love doing mitzvot. I like making money. I don't like giving money.” Oh, you don't like it? Let me tell you how you're going to like it. Go to places where people are doing it. Go into a mitzvah every morning, and you're going to start to love learning. Spend your time around philanthropists. You're going to start to love giving.
I was with a fellow, an Ashkenazi fellow, this summer. He's a very, very wealthy man. He says to me—he's already an older man—“I gave out more money last year than I ever dreamed of in my life. I would never think in my entire life I would give this money.” I said, “Wow, it must have been a good year. You made a lot of money last year.” He said, “No, he's actually the same.” What happened? He says, “I got into this group of people, and we became this team of people that's giving money to all these causes. I used to give a hundred thousand; I'm giving a million. I used to give a half a million; I gave five million.” He's a very wealthy man. But he said, “I couldn't imagine these numbers two years ago. Why am I giving it now?” He says, “I'm part of something. I'm loving it.”
You want to love something? Just be a part of it. Be around the Beit Knesset (synagogue). You'll love to pray. Be around the right people. Take the magazines and throw them in the garbage. Never find yourself following someone of little value. Because worse than wasting your time, you're actually becoming and learning from them. You're becoming their student. You're becoming someone who loves what they love. And that would be a very big disappointment for someone of your caliber.
The individual in us is what we are all about. On Yom Kippur, we go in as an individual and our own individual. We go in as an individual. We go in as an individual. We go in as an individual. Only success in life will be as individuals. Our mitzvot have to be ours. Pesach Sheni is better than Pesach Rishon in that way. Our challenges, who we are, what we've been given in life, whatever it might be—that is going to be our success.
From there, to be able to go through the difficulty and be strong, and to be happy, and to accomplish, and to realize that whatever God has singled you out for, whatever it might be, it's something that you're going to be led with when you leave this world. It's a very special assignment. Be the individual who understands yourself. Put yourself with the right people so that you, as an individual, can learn to love things from them and situate yourself. Don't find yourself in the street learning from random people. Choose the people that you will learn from. You be that person who says, “I want to be like that guy. I want to be giving like them. I want to be able to do that. And I'm going to choose to place myself around them so I could learn to love and learn to do just like that.” That's also called an individual decision.
Don't find yourself living in the street and following the herd of people. The individual in us will always find greatness. Have honor for where Hashem puts you in life. Don't look around. Learn from people that you want to learn from, but don't compare. When you live your life, you're going to find such koach (strength) and such success, because from there is going to be your greatness. Hashem should give us all the wisdom and the strength to be able to live our greatness. Because if you're not going to be yourself, nobody could replace you. You, my dear friends, are irreplaceable.
We are irreplaceable. If we don't live for ourselves, nobody will be able to take our mission and our job. Let's live it, each one as an individual, together as a beautiful community. Hashem shall bless you all. Tizku le-shanim rabot, ne'imot ve-tovot.