two yeshiva students are having an argument about a certain topic.
the first student goes to the rabbi and explains his point of view. the rabbi listens to the first student and replies by saying "you're right"
the second student overhears the conversation between the first student and the rabbi. the second student then explains his point of view to the rabbi which is the opposite of the first student. the rabbi responds "you're right"
a third student who has overheard all of the conversations then approaches the rabbi. "one student says this, the second one says the exact opposite. they both can't be right......"
(most of the following is from an article By Rabbi Shmuley Boteach)
Traditionally known as the Kabbalistic Valentine’s Day, the 15th of Av (August 15th-16th), Tu B’Av,
is the one day when there is a complete unification between the spiritual and physical worlds,
offering balanced cosmic support that is perfect for discovering soul mates, strengthening relationships, and making new beginnings of all kinds
It is described in the Talmud as the day when 'fair maidens' dress all in white
and dance and sing bare-foot together in a big field,
with flowing skirts, flowers in their hair, and song on their tongue.
Sort of an ancient Lalapalooza.
And while the women are frolicking about, the men watch in wonder….
There are all sorts of wonderful details that surround this charming festival.
The women actually borrow the dresses that they wear,
so that those maidens lacking in financial resources do not feel left out or ostracized.
They also go about extolling their virtues in song, be it beauty, lineage, or virtue,
as each woman is to take pride in their individual gifts.
Tu B'Av also moves with the greater cycles of the earth and the skies. It takes place on the 15th of the month of Av, when the moon is at its fullest. This is because the full moon manifests the glory that at the start of a month is merely potential. This date is the perfection of both time and space, the very building blocks of human creation. The cycle of the moon mirrors the cycle of women, and represents the great potential and pattern of life. The fifteenth day of the month is when the moon is fullest, hence when "femaleness" is at it's fullest- when a woman is at the height of fertility, it is "A time for love." The moon also represents the illumination from the darkness, the light through our cynicism, the glow and belief in love, in short, the perfect antidote for today' s cynicism.
Tu B'Av is everything we should seek out in a "Love Day" and more. It falls at a time when both literally and symbolically, the world is ready for love. Who can imagine a more passionate time of year than the steamy throes of August? Tu B'Av encourages the discovery and creation of love, bold and aggressive.
The ceremony and ritual of Tu B'Av stands for a return to innocence. The image of the women dancing in the fields garbed in white, symbolizes the return to Eden before the fall. It is a renewal of the heart, a re-awakening of the soul.
The tiny village of Safed, in the hills of Galilee in present-day Israel, was a wellspring of earning during the golden age of Kabbalah in the 16th century. Of all the great philosophers, Kabbalists and scholars who participated in this spiritual renaissance, it was the Kabbalist Rabbi Isaac Luria who earned the highest respect and greatest reverence of his peers. He came to be known as The Ari, or the Holy Lion.
The Ari plays a minor but vital role in a remarkable series of incidents that occurred some 400 years ago...
Two men, a baker and a beggar, both lived in the Old City of Jerusalem. One uneventful afternoon, the baker was feeling immense appreciation for his lot in life. Having recently arrived from Italy with his wife, he was overjoyed with his new life in Jerusalem. He suddenly felt inspired to show his gratitude. Carrying a steaming hot, extra-large loaf of bread and a warm basket of other fresh baked goods, the baker paid a visit to the local synagogue. He walked into the sanctuary and humbly approached the ark, the large cabinet that housed the biblical scroll of the Torah.
The baker was neither a learned man nor an especially religious one. But with genuine joy and innocence in his heart, he asked the Creator to accept his offerings as thanks for the good fortune and blessings in his life. Opening the doors of the ark, he piled the baked goods inside. It took a bit of effort to close the ark as the basket of goods weighed heavily on the door. Once closed, the baker promptly departed.
Not long thereafter a beggar was passing the synagogue. He was feeling tired and distraught. It had been a difficult week for the beggar, with no one offering any charity of substance. With a wife and a small child at home, the beggar was desperate for help -- the kind of help that came from above, since none was being granted in the streets.
Inside the synagogue, the beggar respectfully approached the ark and offered a prayer to the Creator. "Not so much for myself", he said, "but please can you send me some scraps of bread for my family, for they are hungry and we will use this bread to make a blessing in your Name."
For whatever reason, the beggar was absolutely certain that his prayer would be answered. Meanwhile, weight of the basket was finally too much for the doors. It was at that moment that the baked goods came tumbling out of the ark. It was piping hot as if God had just baked the bread a moment ago. There were enough baked goods to last for nearly a week!
The beggar was in a state of shock. Imagine, God answering his prayer so quickly! He immediately hurried home to feed his family. But as he was leaving the synagogue, he failed to notice the baker, who was just returning. The baker wanted to place a few coins into the charity cup, which he’d forgotten to do when he dropped off the bread.
On his way out, the baker peeked into the ark to see if his offering had been accepted. Half expecting it to still be there, the baker saw with amazement that the basket of baked goods had vanished! Overjoyed that the Creator would accept a gift from such a simple person as he, the baker resolved to bake an even bigger loaf of bread and a more tastier basket of baked goods for the next week.
The following week, the baker returned. He again placed an overstuffed basket into the ark, and begged the Creator to accept his offering. A moment after the baker departed, the beggar also returned and prayed for another week’s worth of fresh bread for his family. Then, opening the ark, the beggar retrieved the new basket and ran home. And narrowly missing the departing beggar, the baker reentered the synagogue and danced in excitement when he saw that his basket had mysteriously disappeared once again
This extraordinary scenario was repeated each week for 15 years, until one day the Rabbi of the synagogue happened to be in the sanctuary when the baker arrived with his weekly offering. The Rabbi stood quietly in the back of the room and watched closely.
When the baker left, the Rabbi saw the beggar arriving to pray and retrieve his basket of breads. But when the baker returned to see that God had accepted his offering, the Rabbi could stand it no more. He confronted the baker and asked him to have a seat. The Rabbi then ran into the streets and summoned the beggar.
"Fool!" the Rabbi said to the baker. "Don’t you realize what just happened? God did not accept your offering. This poor beggar came in not two minutes after you left and took the bread."
Then he turned to the beggar. "God never sent you bread! It was this baker who placed the basket in the Ark. Where is your respect for the sanctity of this holy place and for the handiwork of the Creator? How could you believe that the almighty would perform such simple actions when there is a great universe that needs to be tended to."
The baker and the beggar realized that they were probably very naïve, and they sadly left the synagogue.
Later that evening, the holy Kabbalist known as The Ari arrived from the mystical city of Safed and called on the Rabbi. The Rabbi was thrilled that the Ari had come all the way to Jerusalem to visit him.
"Tidy up all your affairs and say your good-byes to your loved ones," the Ari commanded. "You will be leaving the physical world this evening."
Needless to say, the Rabbi was stunned and he pleaded for an explanation.
The Ari explained that the Rabbi had been destined to die on this date 15 years ago. However, the joy that was brought to the Upper Worlds by the actions of the baker and the beggar had given the Rabbi an extension of life. The angels who dwell on high danced and sang at the happiness and faith that had been kindled in the baker and the beggar. It had indeed been a miracle that for 15 years they had not crossed paths, and only a hardened heart would deny the presence of God’s hand in this.
Now that this spell was broken, the Ari concluded, it was time for the Rabbi to meet his fate.
The great mystic and Kabbalist known as the Baal Shem Tov [Master of the Good Name] was born in the Ukraine in 1698. During his life, he became known as the Kabbalist of Thieves because many crooks, scoundrels, and swindlers claimed him as their spiritual master and teacher.
One especially notorious thief, known as Jacob the Swindler, lived in the small Western Ukraine village of Medzeboz. Whenever the authorities began closing in on him, Jacob would hurry over to the Baal Shem Tov for a special Kabbalistic blessing from the Master. As this was taking place, the police of Medzeboz would mysteriously forget about Jacob the Swindler and move on to another case.
The relationship between the Kabbalist and the thief continued like this for many years. Each week, Jacob would commit a series of crimes, and each week the Kabbalist invoked a special blessing that wiped Jacob's slate clean.
One day the people of Medzeboz received word that an extremely wealthy nobleman, who was a cousin of the Czar of Russia, would be passing through the town. Since it was well known that this nobleman always carried gold coins and other valuables during his travels, Jacob couldn't resist. He would hold-up the nobleman in his horse and carriage just outside the town. Then Jacob would flee -- and before the nobleman could summon the authorities, he would be at the home of the Kabbalist. There he would receive a blessing, and once again he would be scot-free.
On a clear night in the year of 1760, on the outskirts of the village of Medzeboz, Jacob pulled off the robbery with extraordinary skill. When he arrived at the home of the Kabbalist, however, he received the shock of his life. His beloved teacher had departed this world! Not only was Jacob's heart shattered, but he suddenly realized his desperate predicament. The police had launched a full scale search at the behest of the powerful nobleman, and there was no Kabbalist to exonerate the thief.
Jacob managed to elude the authorities as he made it to the home of another Rabbi who studied under the Baal Shem Tov. Jacob told him of his arrangement with the Kabbalist and asked for a special blessing. However, the Rabbi refused and slammed the door. With the search and pursuit intensifying, Jacob rushed across town to the cemetery and the grave of his beloved teacher. Falling to the ground, he wailed, "How could you leave me here helpless? You were my only hope! And I was your devout student." Miserable and frightened, Jacob eventually fell asleep by the graveside.
What occurred later that night under a star laden Ukrainian sky is somewhat vague. But it is said that Jacob had a dream in which the Baal Shem Tov appeared to him and said, "Don't worry, Jacob. I'll make sure you are looked after. When you awaken from this dream, go to my grandson, who is my successor. Tell him I've sent you. He will give you the blessing and you will again be free."
Since Jacob was naturally worried that the grandson would never believe him, the Baal Shem Tov then revealed one of the great hidden secrets of the Kabbalah, a mystical insight into the wisdom of the universe that only those who learn in the Garden of Eden can possibly know. Upon hearing this secret wisdom, Jacob was filled with an ecstasy that was beyond words or mortal explanation.
"When my grandson hears this secret," the Kabbalist told him, "he will know for certain that I have sent you."
Jacob awoke just before the dawn, and he immediately hurried over to see the grandson. As the thief had feared, the grandson did not believe his story -- so Jacob revealed the hidden wisdom given to him by the Kabbalist. As the spiritual secrets left his lips, Jacob felt the presence of pure Light in every syllable and word that he spoke. At that moment Jacob's soul was profoundly stirred, and he knew that he must change his ways forever. And he did.
Over the ensuing years Jacob emerged as a great spiritual leader of the village and a masterful teacher who embraced everyone he met without judgment. Eventually, Jacob became the successor to the Kabbalist's grandson, and thus the successor to the Baal Shem Tov himself.
to me, this story embodies true kabbalah....something was given and something was received. enjoy!
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A little boy wanted to meet God. He knew it was a long trip to where God lived, so he packed his suitcase with a bag of corn chips and a six pack of root beer, and he started his journey. When he had gone about three blocks, he met an old woman. She was sitting in the park, just staring at some pigeons. The boy sat down next to her and opened his suitcase. He was about to take a drink from his root beer when he noticed that the old lady looked hungry, so he offered her some chips. She gratefully accepted it and smiled at him.
Her smile was so pretty that the boy wanted to see it again, so he offered her a root beer. Again, she smiled at him. The boy was delighted! They sat there all afternoon eating and smiling, but they never said a word.
As it grew dark, the boy realized how tired he was and he got up to leave, but before he had gone more than a few steps, he turned around, ran back to the old woman, and gave her a hug. She gave him her biggest smile ever.
When the boy opened the door to his own house a short time later, his mother was surprised by the look of joy on his face. She asked him, "What did you do today that made you so happy?" He replied, "I had lunch with God."
But before his mother could respond, he added, "You know what? She's got the most beautiful smile I've ever seen!"
Meanwhile, the old woman, also radiant with joy, returned to her home. Her son was stunned by the look of peace on her face and he asked, "Mother, what did you do today that made you so happy?" She replied, "I ate corn chips in the park with God." However, before her son responded, she added, "You know, he's much younger than I expected."
It once happened in Old Russia, that two beggars, a Jew and a Christian, were sitting together in the homeless shelter, comparing notes about when and where to get the best handouts. The Christian, whom we shall call Ivan, was saying that the churches gave out a lot of free goodies in Easter baskets. But the Jew, whom we shall call Jacob, said that the best time to get really good handouts was at Passover time.
"It's written right there in the Haggadah," Jacob said. "It says: 'Let all who are hungry come and eat!.' And they really mean it, too. It's a long-standing custom among the Jews to invite a poor person home to the seder feast. And you have never had such wonderful food as they make for the Passover seder!"
Ivan was curious to try a Passover dinner, so Jacob agreed to talk to the rabbi and make some arrangements. In those days, you couldn't just bring a non-Jewish friend to a Passover seder. No indeed! The Tzar's spies were everywhere, looking for excuses to persecute the Jews. Since the theme of Passover is about freedom, there was bound to be some criticism of the government around the table, and it was just too risky to have a Russian gentile overhear that! In order for Ivan to go to the seder, he would have to pass for a Jew.
Ivan already had a nice thick beard, so, with a change of clothes, he looked quite Jewish already. The problem was, that the seder would be conducted in Hebrew, and the discussion would be in Yiddish -- and Ivan didn't know either language. So Jacob suggested that Ivan should pretend to be deaf and unable to speak. "When they talk to you, just point to your ears and your mouth and shake your head 'No.' That way, they won't expect you to understand the words. Just watch carefully, follow the leader, and it will be OK."
So that's what they did. After the evening service at the synagogue, Jacob went up to the rabbi and said, "My friend, er, uh, Isaac here, is from out of town. He's deaf and can't talk and has a very hard life. I'd like you to fix him up with a really nice seder at a rich man's house, so he can have a good Passover meal. Me, I'll just go to the usual place where I go every year, since it might be an imposition to ask somebody to feed both of us."
"OK," said the rabbi. "The Greenbergs are still looking for a poor guest to invite to their table -- he can go there."
So Jacob pointed out Mr. Greenberg to Ivan/Isaac and told him to follow the man home. Which he did. Jacob, in turn, went to another local family that had already invited him earlier.
About two o'clock in the morning, Jacob came back to the homeless shelter, feeling pretty good and singing merrily. After all, he had had four cups of wine and a big feast, and the woman of the house had insisted that he take a big bag of leftovers. So he was in a very good mood indeed! But when he got to the shelter, there was Ivan, stone cold sober and looking very angry.
"You call that a feast?" Ivan shouted angrily. "You Jews are crazy! If that was a feast, I'd hate to see what you call starvation!"
"tell me what happened," Jacob said, puzzled.
"Well," said Ivan, "I did what you told me, and followed this Greenberg fellow home. The table was set with the finest china and silver, fit for a king. I thought to myself, 'Oh boy, oh boy, this is really going to be great!' Sure enough, we gathered around the table and stood for a long toast, then drank a full cup of wine. It was really good wine, too! Since I had not eaten anything all day, the wine went straight to my head, and soon I was feeling pretty good."
Then what?" said Jacob.
"They brought out a plate with some little slices of boiled potato on it. Everybody made some kind of blessing, then daintily dipped one piece of potato in some salt water, and ate it. So I did the same. Then Mr. Greenberg broke one of the matzahs in two, wrapped the bigger piece in a napkin and set it aside, and put the other piece back on the plate. Then they started talking. And talking. And talking. It went on for hours. By now the effects of the wine were wearing off, and I was getting thirsty again. But when I pointed to the bottle and the cup, they kept shaking they heads 'no.' Finally, when I was about to faint from hunger, they served the matzah."
"So nu, did you like it?" Jacob asked.
"Like it?" replied Ivan. "It was awful -- it tasted like hem-stitched cardboard! Dry as a bone, too. And I was still hungry. So I thought to myself, man, are these Jews stingy! The next thing that comes down that table, no matter what it is, I'm going to take a big handful. Sure enough, a plate of something whitish came along, so I grabbed a big handful and stuffed it in my mouth. Ai-ai-ai! It was pure grated horseradish! I felt like flames were coming out of my ears! So I let out a scream, ran out the door, and came back here. Like I said, you Jews are crazy!"
Jacob shook his head sadly. "Ivan, my friend, it's too bad you didn't hang in there just a little bit longer. Because after you eat the bitter herbs, then comes the feast!"
Overview: Once we were slaves in Egypt. Now we're free. That's why we're doing this.
Four questions: 1. What's up with the matzoh? 2. What's the deal with horseradish? 3. What's with the dipping of the herbs? 4. What's this whole slouching at the table business?
Answers: 1. When we left Egypt, we were in a hurry. There was no time for making decent bread. 2. Life was bitter, like horseradish. 3. It's called symbolism. 4. Free people get to slouch.
A funny story: Once, these five rabbis talked all night, then it was morning. (Heat soup now.)
The four kinds of children and how to deal with them: Wise child-explain Passover. Simple child-explain Passover slowly. Silent child-explain Passover loudly. Wicked child-browbeat in front of the relatives.
Speaking of children: We hid some matzoh. Whoever finds it gets five bucks.
The story of Passover: It's a long time ago. We're slaves in Egypt. Pharaoh is a nightmare. We cry out for help. G-d brings plagues upon the Egyptians. We escape, bake some matzoh. G-d parts the Red Sea. We make it through; the Egyptians aren't so lucky. We wander 40 years in the desert, eat manna, get the Torah, wind up in Israel, get a new temple, enjoy several years without being persecuted again. (Let brisket cool now.)
The 10 Plagues: Blood, Frogs, Lice-you name it.
The singing of "Dayenu": If G-d had gotten us out of Egypt and not punished our enemies, it would've been enough. If he'd punished our enemies and not parted the Red Sea, it would've been enough.
If he'd parted the Red Sea-(Remove gefilte fish from refrigerator now.)
