Rabbi's Blog

We often reckon the passage of time by generations, but just how long is a generation? As a matter of common knowledge, we know that a generation averages about 25 years—from the birth of a parent to the birth of a child—although it varies case by case. We also generally accept that the length of a generation was closer to 20 years in earlier times when humans mated younger and life expectancies were shorter.

My tenure in San Diego and at Beth Jacob is within the range of seeing the transition from one generation to the next. This community, just like all other communities, witnesses people and families come and go. Some move to other cities or other countries while others move up to a different world. In any case, there are many interesting people and characters who make up the flavor and personality of the community. Some people are quiet, reserved and keep to themselves while others are boisterous, overt in their opinions and feelings, and always visible. One such colorful man who lived in the Beth Jacob apartments for many years was Mr. Solowitz z”l. For those who knew him, there is no need to describe him. This is not the place (nor do I have the space) to elucidate to those who did not know him even a small vignette of the uniqueness and special qualities of who he was.  Nevertheless, there is one detail that I will share, which is one thing that he and I had in common - the New York Yankees baseball team.

Mr. Solowitz had a very sharp and insightful mind. The Yankess had won the World Series four out of the last five years at the end of the century and then went cold. He shared a great insight with me as to why the current Yankees team (at that time) would not win again. He said the players lost their hunger, their drive, their enthusiasm and even their adrenalin to win again. There was very little left for such a dominant team to prove their prowess any longer, and without the inner motivation to do so they could not win. Other teams who had the drive and need  to prove their prowess and also had young players who were hungry for recognition and success would assume the top and win a World Series. The lesson of being ‘hungry’ for something, whether it is in sports, education, Torah or relationships is the key to success and winning.  Momentum is a critical part of continued growth; once that begins to slow down it is only a matter of time before we start to lose, giving  back some of that which we gained.

One of the keys to success in life in general and religion in particular is the ability to continue and maintain momentum, to create a snowball effect to build on past successes. In my career I have seen the continued upward growth of individuals and families in spirituality and overall service to Hashem. Unfortunately, I have also witnessed the unravelling of hard work and self-sacrifice of other individuals and families. The reason for  growth - or negative decline -  is determined by how determined each person is to maintain that desire and hunger for more, as opposed to giving in to  a feeling of complacency encompassed by the inner gnawing of the refrain, “Come on.  How much more do you want me to do? What do you want from me?” This latter phenomena can be found both in baalei teshuva and in families who were observant their entire lives. The common denominator is that people are tired and just want to get a break and take it easy. Many of the good, religious habits that they once prided themselves on are now just memories. The mitzvos, learning, davening, chesed, etc. that were part and parcel of their identity  have gathered dust and cobwebs. Religious observance could almost be viewed as a passing fad that came and is now gone - a ‘been there done that’ phenomenon. This notion is counter to the philosophy of the Torah where we actively apply the rule ‘there’s no rest for the weary’. Interestingly,  it appears  in the opening verse of this week’s parsha. {Parsjas Vayeishev, 37:1 which states:   “Vayeishev Yaakov B’Eretz M’Gurei Aviv B’Eretz Canaan”. “Meanwhile, Yaakov settled in the area (Chevron) where his father had lived in the land of Canaan.” The most common traditional interpretation of “Vayeishev Yaakov” is the opinion of Rashi. Yaakov wanted to dwell in peace, but there sprang upon him the troubles of Yosaif. Hashem said: “Is it not sufficient for the righteous that which is prepared for them in the world to come, but they seek to dwell in peace in this world also!” It sounds as though Yaakov had lost his drive, his sense of wanting more -  and this is the absolute truth. Yaakov does indeed want to dwell in peace, but not the peace I  described earlier  - that he wanted to have it easier, to take a break from Torah and Mitzvos. To the contrary, Yaakov  saw the opportunity to sit in the beis medrash all day and not have to go to work.

The passuk comes to teach us that as long as Yakov was in Chutz La’Aretz/ outside of Israel and on the road travelling, he continually sought to acquire more physical things of this world and to increase his estate of cattle and sheep. Yaakov was a workaholic outside of Israel. This is supported by the statement  in Bereishis 31:40: “By day I was consumed by the scorching heat, and at night by the frost”. But upon entering the land of Canaan, Yaakov immediately declared a religious asylum. Yaacov no longer felt the need to physically work, for when he came to his father’s house in Eretz Canaan he was ready to serve Hashem from two sides. On one side was the place where his father Yitzchak and grandfather Avraham had lived. On the other side was the greatness of the land itself - our Holy land, the sanctified land that God chose for him and his descendants.  Yaakov no longer had a desire to amass physical wealth and items of this world. Rather, he felt the only reason he worked so hard when he was outside of Israel was  so that he could retire from the physical and focus solely on the spiritual, just as his predecessors Avraham and Yitzchok had done. He no longer wanted to go out to shepherd his flock as he had done  before he left Israel. Avraham and Yitzchok in their old age separated from the money and acquisitions in order to devote themselves completely to Hashem and prepare to receive prophesy, living fully under the influence of God. Yaakov wanted to do the same thing as Avraham and Yitzchok: to sit in peace and tranquility, to learn Torah, to do as his fathers had done.   

Yakov wanted to sit back in peace and tranquility from the life of Gashmiyus/physicality and put his efforts into Ruchniyus/spirituality. The hunger and drive was just revving up again in pursuit of loftiness. I feel there is an unspoken regression today, much more so than a generation or two ago. Perhaps, as life grows easier and less demanding, we take our Yiddishkeit (Judaism) for granted which may lead to this deterioration.  Or perhaps even the opposite may be true: as we grow older we face more stresses, more pressures either from within our families or from without from our personal disappointments.  Regardless of the causes for this potential deepening malaise, everyone reading this needs to think back to a time when they were doing more, when they were actively, enthusiastically growing spiritually. This is not the time to only focus on olam hazeh, forgetting or neglecting all the Torah and Judaism we fought and struggled for. There is room for both. Make some time to get back to the greater heights of our past and bring them back into the present.

Ah Gut Shabbos

Rabbi Avraham Bogopulsky