We’re in the middle of the mageifah, this terrible plague, and every day people are passing away. Maxi Cohen, alav hashalom, passed away today. Yesterday, a very close friend of mine, the founder of Ilana High School, Eddie Misri, Ezra ben Victoria, zichrono tzadik livracha, passed away. It’s not a good time.
We’re in the middle of a mageifah, in the middle of a plague, and we all understand that nothing happens unless Hashem decrees it. A person doesn’t bang his finger below unless it’s decreed on high, from above. Nothing happens by accident, nothing happens by mikreh—randomly. Nothing happens randomly. Everything is by the decree of God.
And if Hashem is giving us such a decree, where so many people in our community are passing away, I spoke yesterday to Daniel Sultan, who told me he’s overwhelmed by the work he’s doing night and day, burying people and arranging to bury people. He told me, “You don’t understand, Rabbi.” I had told him, “You know, I wanted to send you a little message night and day last month.” He said more people were buried in our community in the last month than in more than half a year in normal times.
So we’re living through a terrible mageifah. I must also mention Morris Benin, who passed away yesterday. There were others. I’m forgetting them. Really, it’s hard for me to mention names. I’m just mentioning the names of people I really knew. There were others yesterday: Aiki Khan and Mrs. Hakeem. There were four or five people who passed away yesterday. Today, Maxie, a good friend of mine for many, many years.
We’re living through this time. It’s not easy. We understand that nothing happens by accident, so it’s definitely a wake-up call for all of us—a tremendous wake-up call. Why is Hashem taking such good people, such tzaddikim—good people? I heard that Rabbi Nahum, Rabbi Dweck, and Rabbi Jamal are all not doing so well. I’m not sure how Susan Beebe is doing, but she’s still there.
Therefore, our tefillot (prayers), our mitzvot (commandments), and our athim have to increase. We have to feel what’s happening around us. Nothing happens by accident. If it’s happening, it means Hashem is definitely telling us something.
During this time between Pesach and Shavuot, it’s a custom to read Pirkei Avot—our Musar book—on the six Shabbatot before Shavuot. Each week, we should learn one perek (chapter) of Pirkei Avot. Why Pirkei Avot? Because Pirkei Avot is our Musar book, a book of ethics, that wasn’t written by a great Rishon (early rabbinic authority) or a great Acharon (later rabbinic authority). It was written by Tannaim (sages of the Mishnah); it’s part of the Mishnah. Pirkei Avot is something unbelievable. Everything is in it.
The Rav says at the beginning of Pirkei Avot that you might think that because this book deals with Musar, ethics, and proper behavior, it’s a book like one Plato wrote on ethics. So, lehavdil (with all due distinction), our great Tannaim, our great Hachamim—Chazal (the Sages)—wrote a book on ethics. He says, “Wrong.” That’s why Pirkei Avot begins, “Moshe kibel Torah miSinai u’mesarah liYehoshua” (Moses received the Torah from Sinai and transmitted it to Joshua). Moshe accepted the Torah from Sinai, from Hashem, and handed it over to Yehoshua. Then it went from Yehoshua all the way down to the Zekenim (elders), the Nevi’im (prophets), and the Anshei Knesset HaGedolah (Men of the Great Assembly), right down to the Zman (time) of the Tannaim. “Hem amru shlosha devarim” (They said three things). That’s how it begins.
Why does it begin that way? He says it teaches us that these words are not—even though they’re said by individual rabbis—the philosophy or belief of those individual rabbis. They are all Torah. They are all Torah given to Moshe Rabbeinu on Sinai, and Moshe—Ali Yeshua—and it was handed down to Yehoshua, all the way down to us. These are divine statements, statements by God. Even though it says that Shammai said this, Hillel said this, and a BOC said this, and each one says something, it’s not their personal philosophy. It’s the Kabbalah—their tradition—that they received from their rabbis about what God said to Moshe on Sinai.
That’s Pirkei Avot. We’re told to learn Pirkei Avot during this time in general, not because we have a plague. In general, we’re told to learn Pirkei Avot between Pesach and Shavuot because that’s the best way to prepare yourself for Kabbalat HaTorah (receiving the Torah). On Pesach, we came out of Mitzrayim, we became a nation, and now we’re working to develop ourselves level by level. The Jewish people developed from the 49th level of tumah (impurity) to the highest level, the 49th level of kedushah (holiness). Our minhag is to read Pirkei Avot because it will help develop us to that level, to receive our Torah. Every year we receive a new Torah; every year we have to become inspired once again and embrace the Torah and mitzvot as if they’re new, chadashim—as new—as our rabbis tell us.
I want to start with Pirkei Avot, but first I want to mention a little bit about some of the niftarim (deceased people). Tony, Morris Bennett—he always had such a way about him, such a sweet way and such a smile. The way he embraced everyone and said hello made you feel so special. Whenever I met him—I didn’t know him that well; he lived in Deal—we ran into each other over the last 40 years in Deal. Every time, it was, “Hi, Rabbi,” with a beautiful, sweet smile. He was so sweet.
And Maxie, who passed away today—what he went through in life, such difficulties. I remember his wife Shelly, whom he lost years back, and all the difficulties he faced, and then sickness. He lived nine lives. I was talking last night to his son Norman because Maxie kept coding. How long are you going to keep using electric shocks to bring him back? How long does the coding go on? We were talking last night, and he told me about the difficulties and sickness Maxie went through. He said, “This coronavirus must be pretty bad, because nothing got him. He had cancer several times; nothing got him, and yet this coronavirus got him. This mageifah got him.”
And then he missed me. I’m so close to someone who was so alive a week ago. It wasn’t like he was sick now. He was sick—very sick for many, many months—but that sickness got better. He was back, learning and singing.
He was the one who started Ilana High School. That was his baby, and he started it. No one else could take credit for it. Not me, not Sotau, who is tremendous now. He’s left just being Saul now, carrying it. But Eddie was the first. He was the pioneer. He came to me and said, “You have to open up a school, Rabbi.” I said, “How can I open up a school? I’m already so busy with the kolel (Torah study institution) and the community.” “Rabbi, we have to open up a school.”
I was very reluctant. First of all, where would we get kids from? He went to my brother-in-law, Rabbi Yosef Rosenblum, a man who was my mentor, of course, and convinced him that we needed a school. Then Rabbi Rosal called Eddie and me to come speak with him. He told me, “You have to open up. You have no choice. You have to add this to your work, and you have to open up the school.”
But we had one student: his own daughter, Eddie’s daughter, Pauline, Pauline Astor. Then Saul joined, and he brought his daughter, a 10th grader going into 10th grade. So we had to open up two grades. We had to have two grades, with one student in each grade. How were we to do it? Unbelievably, a miracle happened. Maybe two weeks before opening day, we had about three or four kids. On opening day, we had 18 kids. It has only grown since then.
What he put into it was not only the raising of the money and all that in the beginning; he put his whole heart and soul into raising money. He looked at the school like a retail store. He was always a retailer at heart, and he loved to design the store and set it up well. He set up the alarm school that way. He’d say, “How about this? We’ll display the championship basketball games that we win. Let’s put our trophies in this case. Let’s put them out front; it looks much nicer. Let’s put up pictures of all the girls when they graduate. Let’s line the halls with them. Let’s set up the bed.”
And he and, lehavdil, chaim aruchim (may she live a long life), Tuni—she became the first lady of Ilana High School, and she still is. She calls all the girls; she constantly reaches out to them. They look at Eddie and Tuni as the first—the president and the first lady of Ilana High School.
And what he did, and how he was so young at heart. A few weeks ago, visiting him, we were singing songs from 50 to 60 years ago that we remembered as teenagers, because we were friends as teenagers. And what he did for our community. A day before that, Stanley Chair also employed a friend of mine, and look at what he did for our community. We’re losing people who aren’t simple people, but icons of our community, great people who have done so much to help our community in every way and to help build the community we have today—a beautiful community with so many beautiful organizations. These were the people who built it.
We have people from our community and other communities sick on respirators. Like what I’m hearing right and left, we have a teacher at Ilana High School whose husband, Rabbi Kozlowitz, has been in a coma for weeks, for weeks. So we’re surrounded by mageifah. Hashem is telling us something. Hashem is telling us we need more.
We have Pirkei Avot, which many have the custom of looking at during these weeks, to grow from. I want to take two Mishnayot from the first perek, because we started learning a little bit about it on Shabbat. They’re two statements from Hillel. We all know Hillel—Hillel HaSatren, Hillel and Shammai, those two people who were always battling in Torah, and yet they loved each other. But there were Beit Shammai and Beit Hillel.
Hillel’s statements are deep and very clear. I’m on perek alef—the first perek—of Pirkei Avot, Mishnah yud gimel—the 13th Mishnah. Earlier, he had said one more. We’ll go through it very quickly. Earlier, in yud bet, in 12, he said, “You should be among the students of Aharon. Love peace, pursue peace, love people, and bring people close to Torah because you love them.” Why do you want to bring people close to Torah? Not because of the mitzvah of bringing people close to Torah, but because you love them and understand that Torah is the greatest thing they need for their life. Ultimately, only Torah and mitzvot will fulfill us and make us happy. So he truly loved people.
Therefore, that’s Hillel’s first statement in Pirkei Avot. But I’m not going to make that the main derashah (sermon); I’m going to the next statement, yud gimel, 13: “Hu hayah omer”—he always said it. “Hayah omer” means he was always saying it. These were his favorite statements, which he received from God through the mesorah—through the tradition—from “Moshe kibel Torah miSinai, u’mesarah liYehoshua, Yehoshua, Zekenim,” all the way down. This is what he loved to say. These are from the Kabbalot, the things he received from his former Rebbeim (rabbis).
He said the following: “One whose name is famous, who makes his name very great and has a great name in the eyes of the world—who loses his name?” Of course, this statement needs a tremendous explanation. Are you telling me that all the Gedolim (great Torah sages) who are famous—Hacham Ovadia Yosef, Moshe Feinstein, Rabbi Akiva Eger, Chatam Sofer—are going to lose their names? They never lost their names. Anyone who learns in a yeshiva and is really asuk in the limud—immersed in the learning—and is trying to understand the way folks learn, working hard to understand his Rishonim, but doesn’t understand something, whom does he look to? He looks up Rabbi Akiva Eger. “What is Rabbi Akiva Eger going to say about this?” Rabbi Akiva Eger’s name was from over 200 years ago. His name was not lost, and yet he was nefusan. He was famous.
What does it mean? “Neged shema, avad shemah” (One who makes a name loses his name). Rabbeinu Yonah explains that, God forbid, it does not mean that any of the true Gedolim should not have famous names. Through the greatness and publicity of their names, people want to emulate them; people want to be like them.
I always said that one of the greatest inspirations I ever had was reading the works, letters, and biography books of the Gedolim. The letters of the Chazon Ish—just reading his letters is so inspiring. Today, Baruch Hashem, we have a wealth of information in English. I remember when I was a kid growing up, when I first started to learn—I started learning at 18 years old, 17 or 18 years old—there were only two books in English that dealt with real Torah. The first was Rejoice, O Youth by Rabbi Avigdor Miller. I think it came out in 1960, the year I graduated high school. I was 17 then. I think it came out that year. When I started getting a little closer to Torah, that was one of my first books in English about Torah. The first one.
The other one was This Is My God by—I forget his name right now. It’ll come back to me. He was a famous guy. He wrote Marjorie Morningstar. He wrote many secular books. “What’d you say, Mommy?” “Herman Wouk.” My wife always comes up with the right answers. Herman Wouk. He wrote This Is My God. He was a famous guy. He wrote a book called Marjorie Morningstar, which I read at 13 or 14 years old, a famous book. They made movies about it. I thought he was a secular writer. Then I found out he was a religious Orthodox boy. He wrote a book about his religion called This Is My God, and I loved it because it was talking about Shabbat and the fourth in a secular way. He was a famous secular person. Those were the only two books in English that you could read about genuine Torah.
Today they have millions—thousands upon thousands, they definitely have—of books. You can get a book of emotion finders. You can get a book about the Chazon Ish, Yaakov Kamenetsky, Hacham Ovadia Yosef, or Belyash; any tzaddik you want to get a book on. They awaken you so much. Being famous is a great thing. It’s kevod haTorah—the honor of Torah, the honor of the great man. It’s kevod haTorah. It’s the honor of Torah.
What does it mean, that if your name is great, your name will be lost, destroyed? You will destroy your name. Rabbeinu Yonah explains that it doesn’t mean a name built through good deeds, through Torah. It’s talking about a person who pushes himself so that his name will be great, whose ga’avah—arrogance—can be camouflaged by Torah and mitzvot. But you have those two. You have people who are so-called big rabbis, and deep down all they’re looking to do is enhance their own name, their own kavod—honor. It’s that type of name, a name built because of your arrogance, because of your self-centeredness. Hashem will destroy your name.
That’s Hillel’s first statement. It’s interesting why that’s the first statement, because you can see the other statements. We’ll come back to all this. The next statement is, “Ve’lo mosif, yasif” (One who does not add will cease). Rabbeinu Yonah explains that we’re talking about a talmid chacham (Torah scholar) who learned quite a lot in his lifetime but wants to relax. He has a great mind, so he retains most of what he learned. Everyone knows he’s a great scholar, but he’s no longer pushing himself to grow more. “Ve’lo mosif”—he’s not adding; he’s not pushing to grow more. It’s not only knowledge of Torah. It’s mitzvot, midot tovot—character—and character. He’s not pushing himself to grow. He’s resting on his laurels, as they say: “ve’lo mosif, yasif.” He is yasif. Yasif means Hashem will sweep him away, meaning He’ll take him out of this world.
Rabbeinu Yonah explains why. If a person is a great man and has grown a lot but isn’t growing more, even though God is giving him time and life, then why give him more time and life? The time and life Hashem gives us are only for growth. If a person doesn’t grow, doesn’t add to his growth, and doesn’t continually push himself to grow, even though he has a great past—he’s a 60-year-old or 70-year-old man, he’s learned quite a deal and has a lot of Torah, and everyone can come and ask him many questions and he can answer them—but if he’s not continually growing, if he’s not still working to grow in Torah, middot, tefillah (prayer), avdut (service), chasidut (piety), sidkut, and emet (truth), if he’s not continually trying to grow, he will pass away, because Hashem says he isn’t using the gift of life.
What a lesson this is for us. It’s all about the talmid chacham. Hillel is telling us about a talmid chacham who has spent most of his life growing, but now he’s in retirement mode and taking it easy. He knows so much. What does he have to grow more for? “You know so much; we have to grow more, so Hashem won’t give you the gift of life anymore,” because we’re not here to sit around, retire, or look back on our great past.
I’ll never forget one of the things Rabbi Cutler’s wife said about him at his funeral. She was walking behind the hearse, and my friend Yitzhak Dershowitz, who passed away, was walking around one of them. He heard her say it and told me. He said something—I don’t know what he said—but she answered him, “In 50 years of marriage, I never heard him once talk about his past. In 50 years of marriage, I never heard him talk about his accomplishments. It was always what he was going to do today.”
Like that famous, cute sign: “What are you doing for me today?” That’s the sign we all have to have, a spiritual sign. What are we doing for God today? Forget what he did. “Ve’lo mosif”—Hillel is telling us that if you don’t continually grow, even though you did a lot in your life, if you don’t continually grow, Hashem will take you away. What a lesson Hillel is teaching us.
This is, by the way, the Hillel the world makes out to be. It was Hillel and Shammai: Shammai is the strict rabbi and Hillel was the liberal. This liberal rabbi, Hillel, is telling us that if you don’t continually grow, even though you’ve learned Torah for much of your life, if you don’t continually grow in Torah, tefillah, midot tovot, tefillah, avdut, and chasidut, what point is there in God giving you life? For what reason should God give you more life? You’re not utilizing it. That’s a little strict to me. That doesn’t sound like a liberal. That sounds like a great Torah man, Hillel.
It continues: “Ve’lo lamad, chayav mitah”—one who does not learn is liable to death. One who doesn’t learn at all is different from the talmid chacham we were talking about before, who constantly has to grow. “Ve’lo lamad”—he doesn’t learn at all. We’re talking about a person who could be religious. He keeps Torah and mitzvot. He keeps Shabbat and kashrut. He only eats Glotko, Shabbat Yosef, yashan only. He’s very strict. But he doesn’t learn. People say, “He’s not a learner. He’s a working boy.” You know, when girls get married, you talk to a girl: “What kind of boy do you want? Do you want a learning boy or a working boy?” He’s a working boy. No. There’s no such thing as a person who doesn’t learn.
Every person—every man—no matter what his situation is, whether he’s rich or poor, has a large family or no family, is sick or healthy, no matter what his situation in life is: “chayav lilmod yomam valaylah” (one is obligated to learn day and night). Every person is obligated to learn day and night. There’s no such thing as a working boy without learning.
There are boys who learn all day long. Hashem, those are the elite of our nation, the elite of our nation. We have to build them up. These kolel people are holding up our people. They’re the nishamot (souls) of the Jewish people. Then there are the working people, and they’re beautiful; they can be the best ben Torah possible. But they have to be kove’a itim laTorah—they have to also learn. Everyone has to learn.
And then what? Hillel says that the person who doesn’t learn at all is liable to death. He is obligated, he is liable to death. It means you kill him. The other expressions: “avad shemah”—lose his name. Okay, we don’t know how. “Yasif”—Hashem will pass him on. No, he’s “chayav mitah,” “chayav”—he’s liable to death. The person doesn’t learn. These are very strong words, but we have to hear them. They’re in Pirkei Avot, and Pirkei Avot is what we’re supposed to be learning these weeks, especially this year, when we’re in the middle of a plague. We certainly have to learn these words of Hillel, who is telling us—and they’re not Hillel’s own words. They’re what Hillel was mekabel—what he received—all the way back to Sinai. “Moshe kibel Torah miSinai.” These are God’s words.
If you don’t learn at all, you don’t make your life part of learning, and you don’t make learning part of your life. You could be working day and night, a big businessman—beautiful—but you have to have a time to learn every day, in the morning and in the evening. Either before prayers or after prayers, before you go to work. When you come home at night, you have to have a certain amount of time. You can’t spend all your time just eating and watching TV. We’re all obligated to learn.
At this time, we have to take these words seriously. These words are not for the rabbis; they’re for every Jew. The entire Jewish people—the whole world—is in the middle of din (judgment). We’re in the middle of din, real din, where people are dying right and left every day. People are being buried. “If not now, when? If not now, when?” If we can’t wake up now, if we can’t understand that we have to utilize the gift of life properly, and that learning has to be one of the major things, then what? He doesn’t say anything about other things. He doesn’t talk about other things. He only says, “One who doesn’t learn.” One who doesn’t learn at all.
And the last statement of this Mishnah of Hillel: “Mishtamesh beta’agah, chalaf” (One who uses the crown passes away). One who uses the crown of Torah for his own kavod. We’re supposed to give a crown to a talmid. We’re supposed to honor talmid chacham because honoring talmid chacham is honoring the Torah itself. We honor talmid chacham precisely because we’re honoring the Torah. You’re not supposed to honor a talmid chacham just because you personally honor that talmid chacham. You’re supposed to honor all talmid chacham. If you only honor one talmid chacham, then it’s not the Torah he has that you’re honoring; it’s him personally.
We’re supposed to honor talmid chacham because he carries Torah, because he represents Torah. The honor of the talmid chacham is the honor of Torah. By honoring the talmid chacham, the talmid chacham spreads Torah in the world, because the more people feel honor for Torah, the more they understand and appreciate what Torah is, and they themselves will come to Torah more. So it’s a mitzvah to honor Torah.
So what does it mean, “mishtamesh beta’agah,” one who utilizes the crown of Torah? Rabbeinu Yonah explains that he utilizes it for his own kavod, not for the kavod of Torah—for his own kavod. Everyone stands up when he walks into the shul. If he is stupid enough to think they’re standing up for him, he’s like the person carrying the Sefer Torah in the shul on Shabbat. You take the Sefer Torah out of the Aron Kodesh (Holy Ark), they give it to you, and now you’re carrying the Sefer Torah and walking all around the shul. Everyone comes close to kiss the Torah and honor you, and you have the ladies from the ladies’ gallery in the back sending you kisses. The man, the fool who could believe that they’re honoring him personally—because of who he is, not because he’s carrying the Torah—we understand that that man is an idiot.
They’re not sending kisses from the ladies’ gallery because of who you are. They’re sending kisses to the Torah. They’re standing up for the Torah. They’re running to kiss the Torah, not you. If you’re foolish enough to think they’re standing up for you, then you’re a big fool.
Well, the rabbi whom they all stand up for, the talmid whom they all stand up for because he’s also carrying the Torah—not in his arms, but in his mind and heart—if they stand up for him and he thinks they’re standing up for him personally, he’s just like that fool carrying the Torah on Shabbat in the shul. Everyone is standing up, but he foolishly thinks they’re standing up for him, not for the Torah he’s carrying.
We’re supposed to give honor to the talmid chacham for the Torah he’s carrying in his mind and heart, not for him personally. How do you know if you’re honoring the talmid chacham because of the Torah or because of the man himself? It’s very simple. What do you do with other talmidei chachamim (Torah scholars)? Do you honor them too? Do you honor the other talmidei chachamim? Well, you only honor one, your Rebbe. Then you’re not honoring the Torah; you’re honoring one specific person. That means that you’re honoring that person in a way that’s close to avodah zarah (idolatry). That’s how dangerous it is when we have this chasidut of a Rebbe.
Yes, if you honor a Rebbe because he represents Torah and inspires you to want to learn Torah yourself and inspires you to keep Torah, but you also stand up and honor other talmidei chachamim because you realize that they also have Torah in them and you give honor to the Torah, not to the individual, then you honor all talmidei chachamim. But if you choose only one, it’s a siman—a sign—that you’re honoring the person.
And the same thing applies to the talmid chacham receiving the honor. He should want to receive the honor, not for himself, but for the Torah, to honor the Torah and inspire others to want to learn Torah too. If Torah is such an honorable thing, and you get so much honor if you’re a talmid chacham, that inspires young people to want to become talmidei chachamim too. But that’s only if you receive the honor as someone carrying the Torah. If you think the honor is for you, again, the difference will be whether you feel hurt if you don’t get honor. If somebody else gets honor and you don’t feel hurt—if another talmid chacham doesn’t get much honor and you don’t feel hurt—that’s a siman that the honor you were getting was for you. If it were for the Torah, you would feel the same hurt. What difference does it make if the Torah isn’t being honored through you? The Torah isn’t being honored when somebody else who isn’t given honor—another rabbi—isn’t given honor.
So there’s a big difference. Hillel is telling us here, “mishtamesh beta’agah”: if you use the crown of Torah for your personal honor, chalaf, you’ll be passed on. You will die. It’s an amazing thing, what Hillel is telling us. Four statements, and the punishment for these four statements is all very serious. “Neged shema”: if you make yourself famous, pushing yourself to be famous—not because you’re famous for your great middot and Torah, and people honor you, but because you want to be famous, because your arrogance pushes you to gain fame and look for fame in subtle ways, not so subtle ways. Today they’re so transparent. The boys are looking for fame. They are so transparent. It’s a joke.
You see it many times at weddings. A rabbi isn’t called up for a berachah (blessing) at a wedding. Oy, he’s insulted. I know one time Rabbi Shwaki was in the seder kiddushin (wedding ceremony) at one of the weddings. He didn’t choose which rabbis to honor; the people making the wedding gave him a list of which rabbis to give which berachot to, so he followed the list. The next day, he got an email from one of the rabbis taking him to task: “How can you not honor him? You honor rabbis who are Rosh Yeshiva. He’s a rabbi of a shul. The rabbi of a shul is so much more important than a Rosh Yeshiva.” A whole long email.
I said, “You know, I can understand that a person could feel hurt deep down in his heart that he didn’t get the honor. We human beings aren’t perfect. But you’re writing—you’re tovaya the kavod—you’re writing and complaining about it. You’re so transparent that you want kavod. Didn’t you hear the words of Hillel? Didn’t you read the words ‘mishtamesh beta’agah’? If you want to use the crown of Torah for personal honor, chalaf, Hashem will take you away.”
It’s interesting how he began. He began, “If your name is famous,” because of your arrogance, not because of your good deeds, but because of your arrogance. Why is that the first thing? The first thing is that you shouldn’t want a great name, because he’s talking about Torah, the obligation to study Torah, the obligation to preach Torah. He’s talking about the obligation to study Torah constantly, even when you’re old, to continually grow. You always have to grow. Surely, you have to learn. Why do you start with the name first? If you’re looking for fame and fortune in your name, a Torah name, the name of a Gadol, he says that’s the name you want. You’re pushing yourself to get that name. Why is it the first thing, that you’ll lose your name? It’s because everything has been done, and if your Torah is looking for your own kavod and your own name, if that’s the—then you’re not serving God at all; you’re serving yourself.
This is a very strong rebuke in the first chapter of Pirkei Avot, which we thought was just nice ethical stuff. We’re hearing very sharp criticism. I take this criticism very, very personally, and I take it to heart, because I feel that if nothing happens by accident, and we’re having the plague and are isolated in our homes so we can think and make a real cheshbon hanefesh (accounting of the soul), we have to consider how we want to grow. How we want to grow.
We’re learning Pirkei Avot, which is supposed to be learned at this time. Pirkei Avot’s first chapter is telling us this. Hillel is telling us. Hillel’s first statement, the major statement, is to honor, to be like Aaron, to feel good in everyone, to have shalom (peace), to have shalom, to be like Aaron, to love people and bring them closer to God.
But then he starts pointing to the nitty-gritty of it. Don’t look for a name. That’s not our purpose. Continually grow. Never stop growing. The minute you stop growing, it takes away your strength to grow. It takes away your life. It takes away your ability to live. We’re here for one reason: to grow. That thought has to permeate our whole being now, at this time. We’re all alone here, and we see people dropping right and left around us—our friends, our contemporaries, members of our community, all around us. Great people in this community, in other communities, in all communities, in the Ashkenaz community—they’re losing Gedolim right and left. You have to ask yourself, “What does Hashem want from me?”
He says what He wants from you, first of all, is to be emet (truthful). Are you serving God or are you serving yourself? In your religion, in your Torah, in your mitzvot, whom are we serving? That’s why middot are so important. They determine and define the nature of what we’re doing. Two people do mitzvot. One does it for a name; one does it to serve God. They’re totally different experiences, even though the action looks the same. They both seem to be starting to know. They’re both rocking during the Amidah (standing prayer). I know I rock during the class. People tell me it’s drastic. I can’t help it. It’s my mode of learning, and I’m learning when I talk.
Then, in Hillel’s next Mishnah, after you have pure middot, aren’t looking for a name, and have learned quite a lot—when you’re already 60 years old and have done a lot—“ve’lo mosif, yasif.” If you don’t continually grow, what purpose is there in life? You’re not “chayav mitah,” like the other statement, “chayav mitah.” We’re not as strong as they are, but “yasif”—you’ll be gone; you’ll pass on. Why will we pass on? Because we’re not using life the way it’s meant to be used. We’re not utilizing the gift of life, this gift to grow.
As long as your mind is still working, use it—not only to learn Torah, but to do chesed (kindness), to think of ways to help people, to grow in your middot, and to grow in your tefillah every day. Your tefillah should be an exercise in getting closer to God and sincerely asking Him, and realizing it all comes from You. We don’t do anything on our own. It’s the biggest apikorsut (heresy) to say that you’re doing anything. It’s all God. Recognize it and pray for it. Pray as if you really realize that only Hashem can give you everything. Grow, continually grow until you’re very old, until you’re 120.
And the last statement: if you’ve grown and have a name, Baruch Hashem, you’ve accomplished a lot, whether in maasim tovim (good deeds), Torah and chasid, or whatever way you’ve accomplished your name, and everyone looks up to you, don’t utilize the honor for yourself. Yes, it’s okay to receive the honor because you’re honoring the Torah. That’s the way to inspire others, but only for the Torah’s honor, not your honor. If it’s for your honor, you’re like a fool carrying the Sefer Torah in the shul. You think they’re all standing and rising for you.
I didn’t realize how late it is already—45 minutes. Let’s take some questions, please. You can unmute.
“Rabbi?”
“Yes.”
“Hi, Billy.”
“Yes, how are you?”
“I’m very, very concerned about the nishamot that are leaving us, that are not getting Kaddish. I find it very disturbing.”
“So we heard that you could learn Mishnayot in order to accommodate Kaddish. I myself have a yahrzeit (death anniversary) coming up, or you can hire a group in Israel that would be willing to say Kaddish. What should we be thinking about the nishamot that are going to be without Kaddish?”
Okay, let me explain something to you. Kaddish is a wonderful prayer, and Baruch Hashem, it has become kavua—fixed—in all communities that you have to say Kaddish, whether you’re religious or not, for someone you lost in your family. But let me explain something. Kaddish is only a din derabbanan—rabbinical law. It’s only a rabbinical enactment. From the Torah, there’s no law of Kaddish. Kaddish is only rabbinical law.
If a person does a mitzvah from the Torah, a Torah law, it is millions of miles greater than Kaddish. Get it in your head, what I just said: millions of miles greater than Kaddish. A person who suddenly decides to learn more than he ever has before in place of Kaddish is doing something millions of times greater than Kaddish. Kaddish is a minimum. It’s great. Don’t—I’m not undermining or belittling Kaddish. It is one of the greatest customs we have, to say Kaddish. It’s only law that I’ve been on. It’s only rabbinical law to say Kaddish.
Basically, if you go through the words of Kaddish, it doesn’t mention the dead at all. The idea of Kaddish is “Yitgadal”—Hashem’s name should be made great. How will Hashem’s name be great? By the Jewish people doing mitzvot. “Yisrael, through you I become unified.” Through your mitzvot, through your good deeds. The good deeds we do, the Torah obligations we fulfill, like chesed, helping people, and charity, which are all Torah obligations, are millions of times greater than Kaddish.
There’s a story about a great man, Rav Reuven Grozovsky. When I first started becoming religious, they used to talk about him a lot. Today, we don’t hear so much about him. Going back close to 60 years ago, Rav Reuven Grozovsky was one of the great, great people, a great talmid chacham. He was the son-in-law of Rav Baruch Ber. He was a great Rosh Yeshiva. He was in Slabodka Yeshiva at the time, and it was World War I. You couldn’t travel; it was dangerous to travel. They didn’t have means of traveling at that time. His father died. The telegram came to the Alter of Slabodka, the elder of Slabodka, Nosson Tzvi Finkel, who was the Alter of Slabodka, the Rebbe of all the great Gedolim we had in the last generation: Rabbi Cutler, Rabbi Yaakov Kamenetsky, Rabbi Ruderman, and Rabbi Hutner. All these people were students of the Alter. Rabbi Davis—Rabbi Davis wasn’t from the Alter; he was his son-in-law. He wasn’t that old, Rav Davis. But the others all had the Alter of Slabodka as their rabbi.
The telegram came to the Alter of Slabodka, Reuven Grozovsky’s rabbi, that Reuven’s father had just died. He was a young boy then. His father had just died. They got the telegram and told the people, “Don’t tell him that his father died. Don’t tell him.” They said, “What do you mean? He’s the only son. Who’s going to say Kaddish? If you don’t tell him, no one’s going to say Kaddish for his father.” He said, “His learning, his whole life, is one big Kaddish. His whole life is one big Kaddish.”
So yes, if we soon, inshallah, have minyanim, we’ll say Kaddish. But until we have minyanim, until the doctors tell us that we should have minyanim again, our Kaddish is your mitzvot, hamaasim tovim. Take up a little more learning. Learn a little more this year. Give a little more tzedakah—charity—this year. Do a little more chesed this year. Daven better this year. That’s much bigger than any Kaddish you can say.
You know, in the yeshiva world, I have to tell you something: the word Kaddish was almost like an insult to a person. When they wanted to talk about a certain minyan, they would say, “Could you pray at that minyan?” They’d say, “That’s a Kaddish minyan.” By “Kaddish minyan,” they meant that the people didn’t know what they were doing. All they knew was how to say Kaddish. They were sitting shiva (mourning period); it was the year of avelut (mourning) for their parents. They went to the shul and were only there to say Kaddish, and that was it. They didn’t know—they were praying to God. All they knew was Kaddish. It’s beautiful. At least we have that. But it’s only that. It doesn’t come close to the mitzvot of the Torah. It doesn’t come close to learning.
So, in place of Kaddish, if you have extra money and want to pay some people to say Kaddish in Israel, make sure it’s a legal minyan. Make sure the rabbis agree with that minyan. If the minyan isn’t endorsed by the rabbis of Israel, then you don’t want your father’s name mentioned in that minyan. You don’t want anyone in that minyan to pray for you, because it’s not a minyan if they’re going against the halachah (Jewish law). The halachah today is not to go to minyan. If they’re going against the halachah, if that’s the minyan, then don’t go to that minyan. But learning, mitzvot, tzedakah—that’s the best hadith you can have.
“What else? Rabbi, I have a question. This is David Mashon.”
“David, how are you, honey?”
“Baruch Hashem. How does someone mechazek (strengthen) himself while praying at home? Because after a while, it gets like—you just start, like, after a week or two, three weeks, four weeks, it starts getting to you.”
“You know, if I had time, I would go to the next Mishnah, which I originally planned. I thought it was going to be two from Hillel, but it took me one. The next Mishnah is ‘Im ein ani li, mi li’ (If I am not for myself, who is for me?). Rabbeinu Yonah explains that, despite the minyan you have that helps you pray, and the yeshiva that helps you pray and helps you learn, at the end of the day, if you’re not going to inspire yourself after the classes, after the shul, after the people go away, when you’re all by yourself, then it won’t last. No one can do it for you. Everything else is a pep talk and inspiration, but you have to inspire yourself.
“How do you inspire yourself? Sit down before you pray, stop and think, and say, ‘You know something? I can take all the time I want today. I’m standing before God, and He will answer me if I really talk to Him. Let me talk to God. What do I want to talk to God about?’ Write down a few things you want to talk to God about. You have time; write them down. Make a little pad, put it on your paper. Make a little pad and inspire yourself. That’s the best answer I can give you. Inspire yourself every day by thinking that you’re about to have a private audience with Hashem, and you’re going to talk to Him and beg Him for everything you really need.”
“Who’s next? Rabbi Morris, hi, how are you?”
“Hi, Morris.”
“Okay, can you hear me? A very big problem happening with everybody, obviously, is the financial income that we’re all affecting everybody—or 99% of the people, or whatever. How are we supposed to—I need the chizuk for it too—to say that we’re still wherever we are, and there are people suffering and institutions, etc., etc.? We need chizuk on taking care of Naim and all the other people in the institution.”
“How do you inspire yourself to give charity? At a time like this, charity is very difficult because a lot of us are losing money, we’re not working, the stock market is plummeting, we’re not doing our businesses normally, and we don’t know what it will be like when things get better or how quickly we can resurrect our businesses. How do we give charity during this time?
“If you have enough money to live on, help the other guy. He may not have enough money even to live on. Think about his plight and realize that if you live in a world guided by God, everything that happens in this world is Hashem. Hashem looks at your deeds.
“You know, they asked Yaakov Avinu: for 20 years, Laban cheated and abused him. Yaakov worked for him and never tried to get him back. In fact, he never slept at night; he watched Laban’s sheep. He endured the cold by night and the heat by day, it says. He never slept. If he suffered a loss, he would pay out of his own pocket, even though he wasn’t obligated. If someone stole something or a sheep was lost, he paid out of his own pocket. He did the most unbelievable job of serving Laban and working in the most honest way possible, even though he was cheated every day.
“They asked Yaakov Avinu, ‘How did you do this? What gave you the strength to do the right thing when you were going through such a hard time?’ He said, ‘Hashem saw my affliction.’ He saw my efforts, and He will pay up at the end. And He saved me from Laban.
“A person has to know that God sees everything you do. If you give charity during this time, you have no idea what zechut (merit) you have. Maybe there’s zechut protecting all of us from getting sick. It may be the biggest thing that will bring about the end of this terrible market, this terrible plague.
“My best advice to all of us: as much as it’s hurting you, there are people who are really hurting. Give charity now. You can do it. You’re not going broke. You have what to eat. You can still pay your bills. Okay, you’re not as rich as you used to be. Hashem doesn’t want you to be that rich, that means. Hashem wants you to help others. Think about others and know that God is looking at you. He knows your affliction; He knows the sign, He sees the new. You’re giving you charity this time. He will pay you back.
“He’ll prove it to you. You can even test God. There’s one mitzvah in the entire Torah that you’re allowed to test God and say, ‘God, I want to see if you bring the berachah (blessing) to me. You said that you will. You said you’ll open up the heavens and pour down berachah until I say, “Enough,” and I’m allowed to test you, as you requested from me. Please test me. Please test me and see if you give charity and I don’t pay you back for that.’ And you’re only going to give $10? I’m going to give you $100 in order to become rich. It says, ‘Test God, test God now.’”
“Who’s next? Rabbi, it’s Audrey.”
“Hi, Audrey. How are you?”
“Now that we’re all confined to our houses, could you give us some examples of how to do chesed from home?”
“Well, the first one you have to do is what’s in your own backyard, Audrey. You have a husband over there, and you have to make him feel so important and so good, and show him how much you love him. And chesed isn’t confined to a home. We have people, we have a phone, Baruch Hashem. We call people. There are people who are hurting, people who are suffering, people who go and do things. Pick up a phone and call somebody; text somebody. There’s so much we can do.
“Now that we have the time, you know, usually the biggest problem is that the Ezzat, I guess, are so busy that we don’t have time to think of what to do right. We want to do right, but we don’t have time to think. Now we have so much time. Most of us aren’t shopping in the normal way we usually shop. Most of us are home a lot. We have a lot of hours together. That’s the time to think: Who can I call? Who can I pick up? Whose spirits can I lift if I send a little text? Who can I pray for, even if he doesn’t know about it, while Hashem is listening, and help that person? There’s so much chesed we can do.
“You know, chesed doesn’t have to be something the person knows you’re doing. If you pray for another person, that’s tremendous chesed. And our prayers today—we have a lot of time to think. There’s no rush. You don’t have to keep up with the crowd. There’s no minyan; you don’t have to keep up with it. Normally, you always feel the pressure to finish in time because the shul is rushing and you don’t want to hold them back. So I tell people in my shul, ‘Don’t wait for me,’ because I know they usually wait for the rabbi. ‘Don’t wait for me.’ But in other shuls, you know, maybe it’s not nice. One time someone said, ‘Rabbi, what right do you have to overlook your honors, the honor of the shuls?’ Okay, maybe they’re right. I’m always doubtful. I feel a little pressure.
“Now I have no pressure. There’s nobody around. I can take as long as I want. Pray for people, even if they don’t really pray for them. It’s chesed el yom, it’s tremendous chesed. But one minute, one minute, I’ll be right there.
“One thing we have to realize: don’t think that chesed has to be done at the end of the year. It’s right in front of our noses. In front of the nose of a hacham is greatness, and the eyes of a fool are at the ends of the earth. We’re always looking to do something very spectacular. It’s right in our own homes, in how we treat our wives, our spouses.”
“Next, who’s next?”
“Rabbi, I just wanted to say we have a Tehillim chat that goes on around the clock, of women and men, and everybody’s pouring their hearts out together all day and all night. If anybody wants to get involved in that, it’s a nice way to share.”
“Beautiful. This community, I want to tell you, is beautiful. I hear about the chesed, the tefillim, and the Tehillim being said on these chats, and about reading so many books of Tehillim for people who are sick. Ashreichem, ashreichem—you’re wonderful people.”
“Who’s next?”
“Rabbi, I have a question. Robbie Sutton.”
“Yes.”
“Yes. She mentioned the Tehillim. Everyone’s saying Tehillim nowadays. Did you say your name was Robbie Sutton?”
“Yeah. I want to know what the goal of saying Tehillim should be, the intention, because I read the words—some people don’t understand the words—but if you understand them, sometimes they’re very noble things that only David HaMelech may be on the level to say. So sometimes I feel like I don’t even know: what am I saying this for? And even when I do say it, what should the intention be?”
“If you’re saying Tehillim as a prayer, on the most basic level, David HaMelech prayed that one who says Tehillim should have the power of nega’im (laws of skin afflictions) and Ohalot from the deepest parts of Gemara, of Talmud. That was a special prayer David prayed, that saying his Tehillim should have the zechut of learning Torah, by the way. You see that Torah is always bigger than Tehillim, always bigger. He prayed that Tehillim should have the power of Torah, a deep subject of Torah, even Ohalot, which are the most complicated parts of Gemara. But that’s what he prayed for.
“Since he prayed for that, Tehillim has a certain power, even on a basic level, even if you don’t understand it, just reading the words. But there’s no question: when you’re saying Tehillim, I would get a book that translates it. I would understand a little bit of what I’m saying. If you say the words of Tehillim and understand a little bit of what you’re saying, it has so much more meaning and so much more feeling. I may only be able to say one little kapitel (chapter) of Tehillim better, with a little kavanah (intention), than a lot without kavanah. One paragraph of Tehillim said with feeling and understanding is much greater than saying the whole perek, than finishing it.”
“Next.”
“Rabbi, Sheila Gindi.”
“Sheila Mishan, how are you?”
“Good.”
“Very good. So am I better off reading the Tehillim in English if I understand it better in English, or better off trying to say it in Hebrew?”
“Try to translate it beforehand, before you say the actual thing as a prayer. Try to go through it and look at the Hebrew, look at the English, and put it together. Then let the Hebrew talk to you in English.”
“Okay, you understand. Study it.”
“Yeah. So skim it in English first, so I understand it in English first?”
“If you could skip—I can’t skip so fast. I have to take my time. You know, I’m not so familiar with the Tanakh (Hebrew Bible), and I have to take my time to understand the words. But once I get it, then say it over with me.”
“Okay, thank you.”
“Rabbi, I have a question.”
“Go ahead.”
“How do I stop being a pain when I’m trying with adult children who are single, who are not really going the way of Torah and mitzvot? I send them classes every day and worry about them every day. Am I pushing too much? I know they have it in their hearts.”
“Hold on, let me get your question clear. You’re a teacher?”
“No, I’m a mom.”
“You’re a mom, and you’re talking about your children and how you deal with them?”
“Yes.”
“So you’re pushing them, or not pushing them, toward Torah and mitzvot. Okay, I’m going to tell you a klal gadol—a very big rule—that applies to many, many cases. Either you can be mistaken and push too hard when you shouldn’t, or you can be mistaken and not push enough when you should. Those are the two possible errors. You’re not sure whether to push too much or not enough. Sometimes, if you don’t push too much, it’s a mistake; you should have pushed more. Sometimes you push too much, and that’s a mistake.
“Of the two mistakes, the better one to make is always to be lenient. Meaning, if you’re in doubt, how much should I push my kids? Should I wake them up in the morning to go to school or let them sleep? They always hate when I wake them up. I don’t know whether I should push them or not. I have a doubt about how much to do it. Always be lenient and don’t push.
“I’ll tell you why. If you’re making a mistake by pushing too hard, you can break them, and they can hate religion. If that’s a mistake—if you know you’re doing this differently—but we don’t know what we’re doing. Most of us are in safek—we’re in doubt—and we don’t know whether we’re pushing too hard. If you’re pushing too hard and making mistakes, you can cause your child to hate Torah and mitzvot.
“I remember one time, for a short while, I had a minyan in my house, a shul here. When we first came in about 40 years ago, we had a shul in my house. I remember one of my old friends, whom I hadn’t seen in a long time, was in the area. I told him, ‘Come by shul, come by my house; we have a minyan.’ He stepped in just to give me honor, because he’s an old friend of mine. He said, ‘You know, Rabbi, I have to tell you something. I hate shul. You know why?’ I said, ‘No.’ ‘Because my father dragged me by the hand and pulled me all the way to shul every Shabbat, and the minute I got married, I stopped going to shul.’ That’s what could happen if you push too much.
“Even if you make the mistake of not pushing enough, when really you should have pushed a little more and it would have helped, you were lenient. What’s the result of that mistake? The child won’t achieve 100. He’ll achieve 75, but he won’t be broken, and he won’t hate shul or Torah. He just won’t achieve the best he could. So what’s better, breaking the person or not having them achieve the most? Definitely, always be lenient.
“If you’re not sure whether you should push or not, always go lenient, especially today, when the world is different. Kids don’t handle the strong way we deal with them the way we used to. In the old days, parents of my people, of my age, could push and get away with it. Today we don’t get away with it. The kids have resentment, and they end up hating the—because we’re using the as a bat in their eyes. We’re using the as a bat to hit them. That’s how they perceive it, and they hate the bat that hits them. So that’s the general rule.”
“How about—you froze.”
“I froze? What does that mean?”
“You missed it. Now you hit it. It’s working. It’s fine.”
“If you’re not sure whether you should push your kids or be lenient, always be lenient, because if you push them and it’s an error, you can break them. If you’re lenient and it’s an error, okay, they won’t achieve what they could have, but you won’t break them. Always go lenient. That’s the big rule of life.”
“Rabbi Diamond?”
“Yes.”
“I’m Freddy Rothschild.”
“Hi, Freddy.”
“The Rabbi said last week that when we’re praying for refuah (healing), we should pray that Hashem should heal people right now. But I feel maybe, who am I to ask Hashem to heal them now? We want a healing, definitely. We want it now. But who am I to ask?”
“You know, normally, normally, you’re right. We only ask for a little bit. It says we ask like a beggar, with nothing. Ask like a beggar, except there’s a pasuk (verse) that says, ‘Open up your mouth very wide,’ and Rashi says to ask for all of your desire, everything, not a little bit. So the Gemara says, how do you reconcile that with the fact that sometimes we ask like a beggar? He says we ask like a beggar when it comes to material things, like money and so on. When it comes to saving a life or Torah, which is like life, ask for everything. Don’t be ashamed. Ask for everything.”
“Thank you.”
“Next.”
“My mother wants to know—”
“That’s all? Is that you?”
“My mother wants to know because you say they could put it, that they gave us the price. Who wants to know? My mother can—”
“Can ladies say that book? There’s nothing wrong with saying Torah. It’s Mishnah. There’s nothing wrong with saying it. It’s Mishnah. You can say it and sing it loud. Say it.”
“Yes, I have a question.”
“Go ahead.”
“It’s Jacqueline. How are you, Rabbi?”
“Hi, Jacqueline. How are you?”
“I’m good, thank God. I just have a question to piggyback off the previous question about pushing your kids. What if, God forbid, you follow basically what you just said and you don’t push them, and then they’re really off the derech (religious path) at that point? What do you do?”
“You know, if you see them going off the derech, there have to be certain ways—you have to figure out what’s pushing them off. If you’re not pushing them, then what’s pushing them off the derech? It must be something, either friends or someone having an influence on them, and you have to figure it out, get into it, and address it in a smart way.
“My main point is that many times—I’m not blaming the parents at all for kids who go off, God forbid—but many times we’re at fault because we sometimes push kids too hard without thinking. You can’t push kids too hard. That’s all I’m saying. If you know what you’re doing, you know your kids, and you know they can handle being pushed, that’s different. But most of the time we don’t know, and we’re unsure. If you’re unsure, be lenient, because if you make a mistake by being lenient, at least the results aren’t terrible. But the mistake of pushing, if that’s a mistake and you’re pushing too hard, you could break that kid, and that’s disastrous. That’s a disaster.
“Jacqueline, in your case, continuing your questions, every case is different. Maybe you should consult with somebody if you really feel they’re going off, to find out how to get to them, how to get around them, how to go back to them.”
“For me right now, my kids are little, so I have time to perfect or figure out what to do if, God forbid, I’m in that position. So that was really more why I was asking.”
“Give them a lot of love now. Let them know. I want to tell you something. The greatest thing that doesn’t make sense—give good middot to your children—is to show them unconditional love. If a baby grows up really feeling love, he gets a sense of security that gives him good middot. So it’s very good to give them a lot of love, unconditional love.”
“That’s what you can do now. Can you say the same thing about a husband that you want more, especially with a husband?”
“Give him unconditional love and you’ll get him. No pushing. It’s a rule in everything. It’s not only kids.
“You know, even let’s say you want to get your husband to stop smoking. Everyone who advises—doctors—says the worst person to get your husband to stop smoking is the spouse. If you tell him to stop smoking, he’s never going to stop. Get him inspired to stop on his own, and then he can do it.”
“Who’s next? Who’s next? Go ahead, talk.”
“Hi, Rabbi? Rabbi?”
“Yes.”
“It’s Lorraine Chahibar, Lorraine Gamal, my father’s wife.”
“Hi, Lorraine. How are you?”
“How are you? I wanted to ask you how it’s possible not to get so upset about nonsense in daily life. I know it’s very hard, but I feel guilty when I get upset about nonsense because of what’s going on in the world.”
“You know, we have to learn from what’s going on in the world. Exactly right. What’s going on around us makes us understand that most of what we’re caught up with is nonsense. What are we getting nervous about? People are dying right and left. People are suffering; people are ill in the hospital; people’s families are worrying about their loved ones in the hospital. We hear they’re getting better, and we’re up, then we hear they’re not better.
“I just heard that the three rabbis who, two days ago, they said were all getting better—suddenly they said, ‘Urgent message today.’ I got an urgent message to pray for them: Rabbi Nahumi, Rabbi Dweck, Rabbi Jamal. These are the three rabbis we’ve been praying for. Suddenly I got an urgent message. I don’t know. I hope it’s not legit. I hope it’s wrong. I hope they don’t know what they’re talking about, but of course I’m assuming they’re right, and I’m praying harder.
“Everything is changing, and we have to take this as a lesson. Say, ‘You know something? We’re in a different world today. Let me get my priorities right, and let things of stupidity not bother me anymore. Life is too precious, and life is so fragile. It’s so fragile. Let me not waste it on negative and poisonous things that are just, you know, negative.’”
“What else? Last question.”
“Hi, Rabbi. Hi, Rabbi. Hi, Rabbi. It’s Ezra Bader.”
“Who’s talking?”
“Ezra Bader.”
“Ezra, go ahead, honey.”
“I want to thank you so much for this class. It means a lot to me and my wife.”
“Thank you. Okay, Ezra. Okay. Last question, and we’ll end the class.”
“Rabbi?”
“Hi. How do we know if we’re pushing too hard for our without kids? What’s a sign that we’re pushing too hard? Let’s say at age 13 or 14, how do we know we’re pushing too hard?”
“Yeah, you have to know your kid a little bit. You have to know what you’re doing, and if you’re in doubt, don’t push. You don’t have to know for sure that you’re making a mistake by not pushing. Maybe you should push, but if you’re in doubt, that’s enough to say don’t push. If you’re in doubt, don’t push. Only push if you’re 100% sure. And being 100% sure is not easy. Like you’re asking, ‘How do I know?’ It’s not easy to know you’re 100% sure. So only push when you’re 100% sure that pushing will help. Otherwise, if you’re in doubt and not sure, don’t push. That’s the big rule of life.”