Kivi Bernard, a jeweler living in Atlanta, is an international motivational speaker. The author of the internationally acclaimed business book: Leopardology – The Hunt For Profit In Tough Global Economy, is a frequent popular speaker for large corporate events. He is also an observant and Chassidic Jew.

Some time ago, Microsoft, invited him to present a keynote address at their senior conference. This was a conference for senior executives from all over the world, and a major part of it focused on Bernard’s theories presented in his Leaopardology.

Kivi looked at the date and said he was sorry, but he would not be able to attend. You see the date they set for him was on the Shabbat, and the presentation would require the usage of electronic devices, power points, videos, mics, recordings, etc. all thing which he could not do on the Shabbat.

A very senior Microsoft executive decided to resolve the issue quite simply by offering Bernhard almost double his speaking fee. He explained that the meeting had been set some year and half in advance and it could not be changed at this point.

Kivi refused. He said he was sorry; he would not speak on the Shabbat.

Microsoft was convinced that it was an issue of money, so they phoned back and offered him even more money. At some point they were ready to pay him an astronomical fee, which would be a half a year salary for some of us. Tempting it was, Kivi knew that was his test. This is where his Jewishness was being tested. This is where his integrity as a G-d fearing Jew was being challenged. This is where he stood at the end of a chain of 4000 years of ancestors who celebrated Shabbat, and he would have to make his own decision now. And he did.

He explained to Mircosoft, that it did not have to do with money. He was not declining because he wanted more money; he was declining because G-d told the Jewish people to observe Shabbat, as one day which is beyond money, beyond career, beyond finances, beyond promotions. It was a day of intimacy with G-d, and with your loved ones.

They phoned him back and said that if that was the case, they would reschedule the entire conference to Sunday. He said that would work and the original price would work too.

Indeed, the Sunday conference opened with a keynote address by Kivi Bernard.

A few weeks later, he gets a call. It was the same senior Microsoft executive who tried to negotiate with him. He told Kivi that subsequent to the conference he had an occasion to join Bill Gates on his private jet where this particular event came up for discussion. The Microsoft executive mentioned the unusual experience of having to reschedule the entire conference for Microsoft in order to accommodate “a Jew’s observance of the Sabbath.”

Bill Gates remarked: I am a person who can buy anything I want. From any skyscraper to any company under the sun. There is nothing I can’t purchase for money. I can buy people. I can buy patents. I can buy talent. I can buy genius. But there are some things that money cannot buy. One of them is the Sabbath! It is not up for sale.

Kivi shared the story and said that it was Bill Gates who allowed this Chassidic Jew to grasp the value and preciousness of what he has done. Gates made him realize how meaningful his sacrifice really was. Bill Gates made him realize how rich he really was, when he owned something that money could not buy.

Vision

It is a question we ought to ask ourselves on Rosh Hashanah. Do I own something that money can’t buy or even define? What is it? Do I have something in my life that I am ready to make sacrifices for? 

Helen Keller (1880-1968), who could not hear or see, transformed an entire nation when she graduated with honors from college. She is still a source of inspiration for millions. She was once asked, “How does it feel not to have eyesight?” She responded:

“It is a lot worse if you have eyesight but you lack vision…”

This Rosh Hashanah – Jewish New Year, we need to develop vision. A vision of a nobler, higher, deeper self, which we can only discover through sacrifice, loyalty, devotion, transcendence, humility and lots of courage. We ought not to sell ourselves for cheap; we are capable of developing a moral vocabulary, where we determine the value of a certain behavior not based on comfort or success, but based on the inner music of our soul and convictions of truth, depth, holiness, Torah, Mitzvos and our relationship with G-d.

Shanah Tovah! Happy New Year!

Rabbi Tzvi Dechter is the director of Chabad of North Broward Beaches, located in the Venetain Isle Shopping Center at 2025 E. Sample Rd. in Lighthouse Point. For all upcoming events, please visitwww.JewishLHP.com.

Psychology Today published some time ago an experiment conducted by a Harvard psychologist named Dr. Robert Rosenthal on a group of students and teachers living in Jerusalem. The experiment went as follows: a group of physical education teachers and students were randomly chosen and randomly divided into three groups. 

In the first group, the teachers were told that previous testing indicated that all the students had an average ability in athletics and an average potential. The teachers were told, “Go and train them!” 

The second group of teachers was told that students in their group, based on previous testing, exhibited an unusually high potential for excellence in athletic…“Go and train them!” 

And the third group of teachers was told that their group of students had exhibited, based on previous testing, an extremely low potential for athletic training…“Now, go and train them!” 

The teachers were given several weeks to work with and interact with their student athletes. At the end of the training period the results were the same for male and female students, and for male and female teachers. All of those students who had been randomly identified as being rather average in ability performed about average on the tests. All of those students who were randomly identified as being above average, performed above average. All those students who were randomly identified as below the average, performed below the average by a considerable margin. The results of the test indicated that what the teachers thought their students’ ability was, and what the students themselves thought their ability was, went a long way toward deciding just how well they performed as athletes. 

Psychology Today took special note of this experiment because it confirmed in the physical arena what psychologists had long claimed to be true in the educational and emotional arena: The concept of the self-fulfilling prophecy. Students in classrooms, workers in shops, patients in therapy all do better when the person in charge expects them to do well, when they themselves expect to do well.

One’s own self esteem, one’s own self-image, what someone thinks of themselves and thinks himself capable of are extremely crucial factors in deciding what one can be, of what one is to make of himself or herself, and that the way we see ourselves plays an important role in the way others see us as well. 

The circus

Did you ever go to the circus? Remember those huge elephants that weighed several tons who were held in place by a small chain wrapped around one of their huge legs, and held to the ground by a small wooden stake? If those huge elephants wanted to, they could walk right through those small chains and that small wooden stake like a hot knife going through butter. But they don’t. Why is that? 

When they were little baby elephants, they were chained down by those same small chains and the small wooden stakes. But to them, as babies, they couldn’t move. They tried and tried and tried again and could not release themselves from those chains and stakes. And then, an interesting thing happened. They stop trying. They gave up. They developed a belief system.

Now, as adult elephants, they don’t try because they are programmed to believe that their efforts would be useless – in vain. As huge, adult elephants, they don’t even try. They’re held in prison by their beliefs. 

The same is true with so many of us. The spies in Moses times declared: “We were like grasshoppers in our own eyes, and so were we in their eyes.” As a result, the nation wept in vain. The spies caused the Jews to perceive themselves as hopeless, small and futile “grasshoppers.” Thus, they also came to believe that everyone looks at them as mere grasshoppers. When you think you are weak, you indeed become weak, and you believe that everyone considers you the same. 

Part of leaving exile and being worthy of redemption is that we must stand firm, united, filled with resolve. We must never capitulate. As individuals and as a community, we must dismiss the sense of powerlessness.

We ought to remember that in every situation we are empowered by G-d to create light out of darkness and to continue our march to bring healing and redemption to our world, with the coming of Messiah, so that this Tisha B’av (anniversary of the destruction of both Temples) is transformed into a grand festival. Amen.

Rabbi Tzvi Dechter is the director of Chabad of North Broward Beaches, located in the Venetian Isle Shopping Center at 2025 E. Sample Rd. in Lighthouse Point. For all upcoming events, please visit www.JewishLHP.com.

There is a very moving episode in the Talmud about a man named Elazar Ben Dordaya. This man lived his life with an uninhibited desire to fulfill all of his promiscuous cravings, leaving no stone unturned in his pursuit. He was an addict of the worst kind.

In one particular encounter, the Talmud describes his travel to a distant land when he became aware of a woman he had not yet visited.

After paying a fortune for her services, she sighed and said, “As this breath will not return to its place, so too will Elazar Ben Dordaya never be received in repentance.”

She basically said to him … ‘Elazar, you are doomed… you have a one way ticket to hell!’

Shaken by her statement, the Talmud relates, Ben Dordaya panicked and searched for a way to redeem his life.

He sat between two mountains and hills and said, “Mountains and hills, request mercy for me.”

They couldn’t help him. There was silence.

He said, “Heavens and earth, request mercy for me.”

There was silence. They couldn’t help him.

He said, “Sun and moon … stars and constellations, request mercy for me.”

There was silence. They couldn’t help him.

The Talmud continues the story.

He then said, “This matter depends solely on me.”

He put his head between his knees and began to tremble from crying and remorse until he died. A heavenly voice came out and declared, “Rebbi Elazar Ben Dordaya is ready to enter the world-to-come.”

What does this story mean? Why is he asking mercy from mountains, stars, the sun and the moon? What did Elazar Ben Dordaya seek to achieve by turning to the heaven and earth, stars and constellations, mountains and hills for help? How are they going to assist him in repairing his promiscuous addiction?

My friends, what he was really saying is this, “Heaven and earth, my addictions, my problems, they are not my fault. They are the fault of my environment, my surroundings, my neighborhood. I blame heaven and earth. I grew up with no friends, no good support system; I was ridiculed. My heaven and earth, my surroundings, were cursed. Of course, I can’t be a good husband … I can’t be a good wife … It’s not my fault. I can’t be a mensch. Of course, I am an addict.”

There was silence.

Then he tried, “Mountains and valleys, ‘Harim Vegvaot.” [Harim also means Horim, parents; Gevaot are mountains, referring to our matriarchs, “Migvaot Ashureynu.”] “It’s not my fault; I had a dysfunctional home, terrible parents, and an awful upbringing. Yes, my father was a gambler and an alcoholic whom my mother was dependent. What do you want from me?”

There was silence.

And then he said, “Kochavim Umazalot — stars and constellations, sun and moon, help me. Some people say, ‘I don’t have a good karma, I have no mazal — no luck.’ Look at my astrological signs and you will see that I am prone to all bad things. My brother, he has a great job; he has good life. If I were like him, things would have been different. I would be such an understanding husband, a mature human being, a happy person, a calm person, a committed person, but my Karma really did me in. My zodiac ruined me!”

But again there was silence.

“You know why? Because I am responsible for my life and my decisions. Because the buck stops here. I may have endured serious challenges, but I have the power of my divine soul to choose a good path in life. I cannot blame other people and situations. Happiness, goodness, kindness is my choice in life. I have the choice not to be dictated by fear and addiction, but rather by the desire to do the right thing.”

So the end of the story is that Elazar Ben Dordaya gave out a tremendous cry and he said, “This is my fault; this matter is not dependent on anybody else, not my environment, not my school, not my teachers, not my parents, not my karma. It’s me.”

He gave such a scream that his soul left him, and a heavenly voice came out and said, “Elazar Ben Dordaya, no more will your name be Elazar Ben Dordaya, but Rabbi Elazar Ben Dordaya. You are now a Rabbi, a teacher. He has taught you and I, and all people, a lesson that no matter how hopeless a situation may be, I can change it, by taking responsibility for my life.

Rabbi Tzvi Dechter is the director of Chabad of North Broward Beaches, located in the Venetian Isle Shopping Center at 2025 E. Sample Rd. in Lighthouse Point. For all upcoming events, please visit www.JewishLHP.com.

Was there Torah before Torah was given? It says in Zohar (Teruma) that G-d looked into the Torah and created the world. What does that mean? There are many stories in Torah that imply that, indeed, there was a Torah before the Torah was given:

• Noach bringing in different number of kosher animals … How did he know which were kosher?

• Avrohom, our forefather, fed his visiting angels matzo as part of their meal. It was Pesach. Isn’t Exodus an event that happened some 700 years later? What was he celebrating? They hadn’t rushed out of Egypt yet.

• Jacob put on Tefillin. In a very curious manner, the Torah tells us a story how he created spots on branches, and the Zohar says it was his way of putting on Tefillin.

• The famous Yeshiva that Jacob studied in on his way to his uncle was the Yeshiva of Shem and Ever, Noah’s sons. Were they studying the Talmud?

• Yehuda went before his family to build Yeshiva in Egypt. What did they study in his Yeshiva?

King David gives up an opportunity to kill Saul when he is chasing him. He says “the primordial analogy says, “Bad comes from bad people” … “See, I’m not bad.” With that, he refers to Torah. What does that mean? The Torah does not speak as an analogy. It speaks of fact, stories, laws, history, morals, etc. — very factually. And why primordial? Primordial means the first, preceding. Kabbalistically referring to the Being that always was — G-d. The Torah is an example or analogy for G-d.

What is an analogy? When trying to explain a topic which may be out of reach to the listeners, one will clothe his thought in a tangible example. When trying to explain a complicated mathematical equation, one may try with a simpler one first to give a handle with which to use. G-d is not relatable to the human creation. The Torah is the means which he provided us to then identify with Him.

The Talmud tells us it was heard in the Heavenly abode, lucky is the one who comes here with his Torah. The Torah that we study is material. The life of the world to come is holy and spiritual. How would bringing our material world Torah to the holy higher spheres help or be meritorious and anyway?

The answer is that the Torah we study here is an analogy for higher levels. If we have our Torah with us, we have an analogy with what to be able to understand higher and deeper levels. With each level that we advance, we enter another truth. But we also enter another analogy for an even higher truth. So the ultimate truth, permeating all planes, all levels, clothes itself in different analogies throughout that journey. When we understand the Torah on the first level we’ve understood and grasped the truth there. When we come to the second level, that first one is now only an example. When we reach the third level, the second level becomes only an analogy with which to understand the third. And so on and so forth. It’s the same with the Torah.

Jacob studying, putting on Tefillin, was not about the way we have it now. It was about the truth which Tefillin relates to us. Tefillin has a message — why black, why square, why these passages, why on your arms and your head? On one level, we can say it’s to bind us, our minds and our hearts, to G-d.

On a deeper level, we can say it is referring to two modes and methods of serving G-d and bringing out each one in its unique way. The arm one is bound, an active wording in the brocho. This refers to one’s emotions, which one does not have control over. They roam around; they react. One is not fully in control of them; therefore, we bind them as an active command to continuously ensure they are bound to the service of G-d. The mind one represents our intellect. We can control where our thoughts go. We allow them to develop as we choose. That’s why the Mitzvah is to have them on your head. It’s something you can control from the outset. So even though we speak of leather, paint, ink … we really refer to emotions, intellect, service of G-d — the same with all the other examples.

The actual story of the Torah is also the means to the deeper meaning behind it. There’s a story in the Talmud, of the sage Yonatan Ben Uziel, when he would study Torah, any bird that flew over him would burn [because he studied it at the level it was revealed on Mount Sinai].

Rabbi Mayor Schapiro, founder of Lublin yeshiva, explains two types of students. The first one would analyze the story asking what are the legal implications? Would he be liable to repay the bird? Was it a direct cause? Was it indirect? What stage of indirect was it, etc? The second student would look at him and say you missed the whole point. Although those are good questions, the point is the sanctity of the student of Hillel. The point is the holiness that he has attained. The story is only hinting to a much deeper reality.

When we study Torah, we need to be cognizant of this. We need to open our eyes to this duality that is within the Torah. It’s not about face value. It’s about what’s insinuated and being taught deeper. We need the simple understanding too. But we also need to open our eyes to the deeper realities of divine wisdom within. We need to recognize that these are all different words being used to express G-dliness. These are different clothing used to tell us of the divine reality.

The Torah being given changed nothing; it just gave us better expressions to be used for simplicity’s sake. We now put on real Tefillin and affect our emotional and intellectual service of G-d. The Torah is an analogy for the primordial being. Now go and study it.

Rabbi Tzvi Dechter is the Director of Chabad of the North Broward Beaches. For all upcoming events, please visit www.JewishLHP.com.

Joshua 24:2 — And Joshua said unto all the people: “Thus said the LORD, the God of Israel: Your fathers dwelt of old time beyond the River, even Terah, the father of Abraham, and the father of Nahor; and they served other gods.”

Why does Joshua begin admonishing the people with the observation of how morally degraded our ancestors were? Besides, which of our ancestors worshiped idols? Abraham smashed the idols and embraced Monotheism! True, it took Abraham some time till he discovered that the idols were futile. But why would we make mention of that at this point?

The answer is powerful. Joshua is not simply describing our disgraceful past, “In the beginning our fathers served idols; but now the Omnipresent One has brought us close to His service.” Rather, Joshua is explaining why indeed G-d brought us close to His service. “In the beginning our fathers served idols”—and that is why “now the Omnipresent One has brought us close to His service.” Had our fathers not worshiped idols, G-d could have never brought us close to Him.

What indeed was the difference between our grandfather Terach and our father Abraham? If Abraham rationally realized that the statutes of his father were nothing but lifeless, stone images, and that the universe must have a transcendental designer and creator, why could his father not understand this?

The foundations of Judaism do not require blind faith. They are rational. To assume that a house was built by contractor, not by mistake as a result of an avalanche randomly combining the bricks, is not irrational. To accept that an infinite and brilliant world has a designer who is mindful is rational. To accept that quintillions of atoms, structured in a way to create all the matter around us, were organized by intent is not foolish. To observe billions of units of DNA embedded in a single cell of a tiny organism and assume someone organized them, is as irrational as thinking that a computer program consisting of three billion organized codes was randomly compiled by error. And remember, DNA does not create a computer program; it is the source of life.

If so, why is it that some are like Abraham—they will reject the deities of the time and embrace truth, while others will be like Terach, continue to stick to old, comfortable irrational notions?

The answer is, “In the beginning our fathers served idols”—and that is why “now the Omnipresent One has brought us close to His service.” Abraham worshipped idols! That is the key. He took faith seriously. He craved to know the truth. He was idealistically searching to find what is at the core of life. He served idols with passion, and deep commitment, believing that they constitute the answer to the question of life.

His father Terach was not searching for truth, only for comfort. The god statues provided a fine business and he would not be disturbed by philosophical questions.

Do you care for truth or not?—that makes all the difference. Our forefathers worshipped idols, they passionately believed this was “it.” When they found the real G-d, they channeled their passion toward truth.

But if you are a person who does not worship anybody or anything—only your own needs and comforts at any moment, then even if you understand the truth about the universe, it makes little difference.

Rabbi Tzvi Dechter is the Director of Chabad of North Broward Beaches. For all upcoming events please visit www.JewishLHP.com.

Why do we eat maror, or bitter herbs, at our Passover seder? The first seder the Jews conducted was in Egypt, on the eve of the 15th of Nissan, the night before they departed from the cursed country. Moses instructed the Jewish people to eat during that seder roasted lamb or goat, together with matzos and maror (bitter herbs).

Why did they eat maror on that first Passover night?

Rashi explains, “G-d commanded them to eat maror to remember that the Egyptians embittered their lives.”

This seems absurd. I can understand that now, in 2017, we are instructed to eat bitter herbs to remember the bitter pain our ancestors endured in Egypt. But for the first generations of Jews, who experienced the Egyptian exile, whose infants were plunged in the Nile, who were beaten and tortured, who suffered unbearable agony and bitterness—they needed to eat bitter herbs, horseradish, to remember the pain?

Imagine: It is April 1945. The Russians entered Auschwitz. The Germans fled. The Jews are still in the death camp. You tell them, “Tonight make sure to eat maror, so that you remember how the Germans embittered your lives.” You’re kidding me? Bitter herbs to remember? I have to remember? And a bitter vegetable will remind me of it? I have lived on this hellish planet for years! All bitter vegetables in the world don’t begin to compare to what I have been through.”

One of the answers is this. The mitzvah to eat the maror is what allowed the Jewish to become free.

When people experience pain they often react in one of two ways: Some people repress it; others become defined by it. Some people don’t talk; they don’t want to face the pain. It remains etched in the depth of their psyche, paralyzing them unconsciously. Others do not stop talking about it. It becomes the sole focus of their life. Bad things people might have done to you completely occupy your mental space. Disappointments, challenging experiences and difficult moments become your defining reality. Both paths are understandable, but we are capable of more. And that is the secret of the maror.

When G-d instructed that generations of Jews eat maror on the night of the seder, He was sharing with them the Jewish way of dealing with all types of disappointments and painful experiences in life: Designate a time and space to eat it, to look at it, to deal with it, to choke over it, to cry for it, to feel the pain. But do not let it become the focus of your entire life, and swallow up your future and destiny. The Jews leaving Egypt, by eating maror, objectified their pain, meaning they transformed it into an important reality that they could look at, feel, study and learn from. But it did not become their entire reality. They were a free people. Otherwise, they would have left the Land of the Pharaohs, but the Pharaoh would have not left them.

Once you eat maror, then you can eat matzah and drink four cups of wine. You can say to yourself, there is also joy in my life. There may be challenges but there is so much opportunity. There may be frustrations, but there is blessing, and, perhaps, I can utilize my experience to grow even more and to help others around me.

We do not ignore pain or take it lightly. We do not delegitimize human feelings. We do not say “get over it.” No, we designate a sacred space in our heart and our seder plate for the “maror.” When we eat the maror, this is our focus. We honor our feelings and experiences. And when we do that, we can say: that was the maror. And now it’s time for the matzah and the wine.

We are hosting our annual Seder at the Jewish Center of Lighthouse Point. To RSVP: e-mail Tzvidechter@gmail.com or visit our website at www. JewishLHP.com. Have a happy and a kosher pesach!

There was a rabbi known for his constant preaching about the need to nurture children with warmth and love.

One time he noticed some children who were playing in the freshly laid concrete outside his newly renovated home, their little feet leaving lasting impressions. He became irritated and started chastising the children.

A congregant asked, “How can you, a person who devoted his entire life to teaching warmth to children, speak this way?”

To which the rabbi replied: “You must understand. I love children in the abstract, not the concrete.”

Who can love?

Where is the first time the term “love” is mentioned in the entire Torah? Who is the first lover in the Bible?

No, it is not Adam and Eve. It’s not even Abraham and Sarah. I am sure they loved each other, but the term “love” is not mentioned.

The first time we discover “love” in the Torah is “G-d said to Abraham… take your son, your only son [from Sarah], whom you love, Isaac, and offer him as a burnt offering.”

Note: It is not saying that Abraham loved Isaac; it is saying that G-d testifies that Abraham loves Isaac. That must have been some intense love!

Now, where is the second time love is mentioned in Torah?

It is in the following portion: “Isaac married Rebecca and he loved her.”

The subtle message being conveyed is clear. What many psychologists and spiritual and self-help books now explain is intimated in this profound sequence in the Torah. Abraham loves Isaac. Isaac loves Rebecca. He who is loved is capable of loving. Isaac was loved; hence he was able to impart love.

Fascinating: This pattern continues throughout Genesis. The third time love is mentioned is the love of Rebecca to her son. Rebecca was loved and so she could love. The fourth time is Isaac’s love to his son, and so on.

Why is this so?

When I am loved, I feel confident about myself. I cherish my own innate value. I, thus, don’t always have to take; I can also give. If I feel unloved, I have a void which I always need to fill. I am forever parasitic. I am always craving your validation, your compliments, your respect, your gratitude, your appreciation, your attention and your approval. But when I feel that my essence is good, I am a lovable being. I can suspend myself and become attentive to you. I can create space for you.

Narcissists, who are self-absorbed 24/7, usually have a tremendous void in their self-value. They never felt genuine love. Their tank is on empty. They cannot afford being there for anyone, ever.

A young woman was being interviewed and said, “I am giving up dating.” The interviewer asked what caused her to take such a drastic measure. She replied, “The last man I met talked only of himself for two solid hours. And then he looked at me and said, ‘Enough of me talking about me. Tell me what you think of me.’”

What is more, if I feel unloved, I do not value my emotions. I can’t believe that my love means anything; I delegitimize my love, because I think I am valueless and certainly all my emotions have no value. It is even deeper. If I do not value my being, then, if I love you, I actually believe that it is wrong; because, if I love something, it must be bad since I, myself, am pretty bad and worthless.

Abraham loved Isaac. He loved his essence. Thus, Isaac could love.

Some have even suggested that this may be part of the story of Abraham sacrificing Isaac. At the fringe of losing his son, Abraham discovered how much he really loved him. This begins the miracle of the Jewish family, the infinite love between parents and children, which spanned millennia and has been the envy of the world.

What then do you do if you weren’t loved? The answer is what David says in Psalms 27; “My mother and father rejected me, but G-d took me in.”

You must find G-d’s unconditional love for you. You ought to discover the essential value of your being in G-d’s eyes. Birth is G-d saying you matter.

Much of our prayers revolve around this theme. G-d loves you, cherishes you, thinks the world of you, and begs of you to coronate Him as your king. He can’t think of you as too worthless if he really believes that all of history depends on you.

Rabbi Tzvi Dechter is the director of Chabad of North Broward Beaches, located in the Venetian Isle Shopping Center at 2025 E. Sample Rd. in Lighthouse Point. For all upcoming events, please visit www.JewishLHP.com.

Once there was a beloved emperor in a small country who was growing old and knew it was coming time to choose his successor. Instead of choosing one of his assistants or one of his own children, he decided to do something different.

He called all the young people in the kingdom together one day. He said, “It has come time for me to step down and to choose the next emperor. I have decided to choose one of you.”

The kids were shocked! But the emperor continued. “I am going to give each one of you a seed today – one seed. It is a very special seed. I want you to go home, plant the seed, water it and come back here one year from today with what you have grown from this one seed. I will then judge the plants that you bring to me, and the one I choose will be the next emperor of the kingdom!”

There was one boy named Ling who was there that day and he, like the others, received a seed. He went home and excitedly told his mother the whole story. She helped him get a pot and some planting soil, and he planted the seed and watered it carefully. Every day, he would water it and watch to see if it had grown.

After about three weeks, some of the other youths began to talk about their seeds and the plants that were beginning to grow. Ling kept going home and checking his seed, but nothing ever grew. Three weeks, four weeks, five weeks went by — still nothing.

By now others were talking about their plants but Ling didn’t have a plant, and he felt like a failure. Six months went by, still nothing in Ling’s pot. He just knew he had killed his seed. Everyone else had trees and tall plants, but he had nothing. Ling didn’t say anything to his friends, however. He just kept waiting for his seed to grow.

A year finally went by and all the youths of the kingdom brought their plants to the emperor for inspection. Ling told his mother that he wasn’t going to take an empty pot. But she encouraged him to go, and to take his pot, and to be honest about what happened. Ling felt sick to his stomach, but he knew his mother was right. He took his empty pot to the palace.

When Ling arrived, he was amazed at the variety of plants grown by all the other youths. They were beautiful, in all shapes and sizes. Ling put his empty pot on the floor and many of the other kids laughed at him. A few felt sorry for him and just said, “Hey, nice try.”

When the emperor arrived, he surveyed the room and greeted the young people. Ling just tried to hide in the back.

“My, what great plants, trees and flowers you have grown,” said the emperor. “Today, one of you will be appointed the next emperor!”

All of a sudden, the emperor spotted Ling at the back of the room with his empty pot. He ordered him to come to the front. Ling was terrified. “The emperor knows I’m a failure! Maybe he will have me killed!”

When Ling got to the front, the Emperor asked his name. “My name is Ling,” he replied.

All the kids were laughing and making fun of him. The emperor asked everyone to quiet down. He looked at

Ling, and then announced to the crowd, “Behold your new emperor! His name is Ling!” Ling couldn’t believe it. Ling couldn’t even grow his seed. How could he be the new emperor?

Then the emperor said, “One year ago today, I gave everyone here a seed. I told you to take the seed, plant it, water it and bring it back to me today. But I gave you all boiled seeds which would not grow. All of you, except Ling, have brought me trees and plants, and flowers. When you found that the seed would not grow, you substituted another seed for the one I gave you. Ling was the only one with the courage and honesty to bring me a pot with my seed in it. Therefore, he is the one who will be the new leader!”

This is a metaphor for life. Each of us was given his or her “seed,” his or her body, psyche and soul. The saddest thing you can do is try to mimic other people because you dislike your own seed; to live your life based on other people’s expectations, so that you gain their approval and feel successful, even if that means repressing your own seed and using the seed of another. Only when you become completely honest with your own condition and reality, confessing that your seed has grown nothing, can you truly make something of yourself and become a genuine source of leadership and inspiration to yourself, and others.

The Baal Shem Tov said “G-d desires your heart” – your raw, naked truth, more than anything else. It is what your children need most, too. No fancy toys or fun trips — those are good but it is not what they really need. They need your sincerity and your truth.

Rabbi Tzvi Dechter is the director of Chabad of North Broward Beaches, located in the Venetian Isle Shopping Center at 2025 E. Sample Rd. in Lighthouse Point. For all upcoming events, please visit www.JewishLHP.com.

The ham sandwich

A Jewish rabbi and a Catholic priest were good friends. At a picnic one day, the priest was eating a ham sandwich.

“You know,” he said to his friend, “this ham sandwich is delicious. I know you’re not supposed to eat ham, but I don’t understand why such a good thing would be forbidden. When will you break down and try it? When will you stop being so stubborn about your ancient laws and just start enjoying life. Will you ever become integrated and taste ham?”

To which the rabbi replied, “Sure, at your wedding.”

And this is the theme I wish to discuss with you today.

The Dalai Lama

Rabbi Ben Zion Krasnyanski, the Chabad rabbi on the Upper East Side of Manhattan, was once present at a large spiritual seminar in Manhattan, with many a Jewish Buddhists in the crowd. One man asked him, “Rabbi, I know that you believe that for a Jew to find spiritual fulfillment, he ought to search for it in Judaism. And I resent that. Why would you not tell a Jew that there are many paths to attain meaning and enlightenment, Judaism being only one of them? Take Buddhism for example. It is, I maintain, a legitimate spiritual path for the Jew. Look at the Dalai Lama, the head monk of Tibetan Buddhism. He is an awesome fellow, beloved, peaceful, enlightened, gracious, tranquil and happy. Why would you not encourage Jews to use his path for spiritual meaning? Would it be so bad if we Jews were as fine and wonderful as the Dalai Lama?”

To which the Chabad rabbi responded “You have just defined the Dalai Lama in powerful adjectives: fine, wonderful, awesome, beloved, peaceful, enlightened, gracious, tranquil and happy. I would love to accept all these titles about him. But we Jews have a sacred tradition which dates back 4000 years. We do not believe any compliments about any man in the world, no matter who he is, until we first consult the man’s wife. We believe that only the wife of a man really knows him and if she consents to all the compliments about her husband, then we can accept them. Only the wife is a “valid witness” in Judaism. So as much as I would love to accept all your words of praise about the Dalai Lama, as a rabbi I must adhere to the Jewish rule and I must first speak to Mrs. Dalai Lama and hear what she has to say about her husband. Here is the deal — If she agrees to all of these titles, then, yes, I confess you are right. Buddhism is the way to go. But if Mrs. Dalai Lama disagrees, then, I stick with Judaism and you must also stick with Judaism.

To which the man responded, “Primitiveness, rabbi, has just emerged in full splendor. How old- fashioned and isolated can you be? I knew that ultra orthodox Chassidic rabbis are out of touch with reality, but so out of touch? Do you not know that the Dalai Lama may never get married? He is to remain a celibate for his entire life! By definition of his being, the Dalai Lama he could never have a “Mrs.!”

“Ah,” responded the rabbi with a smile. “That is exactly the point! He is not allowed to have a Mrs.”

“You see,” the rabbi said, “The path of Buddhism, and many similar paths, fascinating and meaningful as they may be, demand that the head monk remain unmarried.”

In 2008, a reporter interviewed the Dalai Lama, and asked him, does he not desire intimacy, marriage, family? The Dalai Lama said: “People marry, soon after, they divorce. Again, they marry, and may divorce again. Those who marry always have trouble…. If you live together, happy, and get old, there is the issue of who goes first, who dies first. Human attachment to your children and partner becomes an obstacle to peace of mind. The attachments are a trap… Monks are detached. One of the practices in all major religions is detachment. Don’t have too much attachment, and you’ll be content. You have it in Catholicism, Islam, Buddhism, Hinduism, all major religions.”

But the Dalai Lama knew not to mention Judaism because Judaism’s approach is different. In Judaism, the deepest spiritual fulfillment is attained only through deep and powerful concrete relationships here on earth. The Kabbalah explains why. Before creation G-d was alone. There was nothing but G-d, nothing but divine truth, light and purity. So why did G-d decide to create you and me? G-d was the ultimate Monk, fully detached and fully one and integrated. It is Niravana all of the time, one in all and all in one. So why did G-d disturb the silent peace and create a chaotic universe?

Because He wanted a relationship. So He made Himself vulnerable and He suspended His infinity to create space for the universe. So in Judaism, we touch the purpose of creation when we, too, come out of our cocoon and we connect with people deeply; when we turn the “I” into a “we,” when we create space for each other and we learn to love deeply and passionately.

So, on the holiest day of our calendar, the high priest who enters into the most sacred space on earth, may not be a spiritual bachelor. He must be a married man. You know why? Because it is in marriage where you must learn to be in a perpetual relationship, not only on your terms, but also on another person’s terms. For a marriage to work, you must be concerned with your partner 24/7. You must become one. And it is in our oneness with other people, that we emulate G-d who created the world in order to enter into a relationship with us.

Ham we may not eat, but marriage — oh yes! So if you’re looking to make a New Year’s resolution – emulate G-d by working on your relationships.

Rabbi Tzvi Dechter is the director of Chabad of North Broward Beaches, located in the Venetain Isle Shopping Center at 2025 E. Sample Rd. in Lighthouse Point. For all upcoming events, please visit www.JewishLHP.com.

I want to tell you a story about a little boy and a summersault.

When Sholom was 10 years old he was given a new suit that he was very proud of, especially its beautiful gold buttons. It wasn’t very easy to come by a new suit in 1930s Moscow, and certainly not one as nice as this one. Sholom wore his suit for the Jewish High Holidays that year and was extra careful to keep it nice and clean.

The climax of the High Holidays is on Simchat Torah when our joy knows no bounds. What was Simchas Torah like in Moscow during the height of Stalinist terror? If you would imagine that it was quiet and solemn, that would be an intelligent guess, but you’d be forgetting about Yonah.

That Simchas Torah Yonah had drank plenty in honor of the holidays and he was out in the streets dancing. He even grabbed a strangers to dance and drink with him. I’m not sure that we can even fathom the audacity and chutzpah!

To see Yonah make merry in the streets, you would never know that it was a Jewish community living under the state-run terror campaign and that arrest and even execution were a regular part of life. It was the Jewish Holidays and Yonah was in another world, a world in which Stalin and his secret police simply didn’t exist!

Then, Yonah took his joy to new levels and starting doing somersaults in the streets! A crowd gathered around him and Yonah got all the community Jews to do the same – somersaults in the streets.

Yonah noticed a 10-year-old boy standing cautiously off to the side. The boy was dressed in an obviously brand new suit with shiny gold buttons. There were no dry cleaners in 1930 Moscow. One tumble in the muddy street and that beautiful suit would never be the same. Yonah, the master educator and mentor knew exactly what the boy was thinking and also knew exactly what had to be done. You also know, yes?

This was what we call now days “a teachable moment.” You cannot plan for a “teachable moment;” you cannot engineer it. It is just an opportunity that arises where a teacher suddenly has a perfect, fleeting chance to endow the student with a lesson he or she will never forget. The teachable moment must be seized by the teacher or lost forever. Yonah knew what the suit meant to the boy, but Yonah also knew what the boy would need to learn in order to survive and thrive as a person living in dark times. Wanting to keep your suit nice and clean is the normal thing for a boy that age to want, but there are times when a person just has to do the abnormal thing – a somersault in the muddy streets even if it ruins your suit would be a great way to break free from the chains of communism.

“MACH A KULAH” (do a summersault) Yonah shouted at the boy. All eyes were now on him “ DO A SOMERSAULT” they all shouted with joy. There was no way out of this. The suit was about to get ruined. Ten-year-old Sholom took a plunge. It was a silly, crazy, defiant act, and it was very necessary – the defining moment of a young man’s education. Everyone cheered as Sholom tumbled head over heels in the muddy street!

Sholom survived the war, started a family and became a Rabbi and business man always teaching and inspiring along the way.

Sholom is my grandfather. He would eventually marry Yonah’s niece — my grandmother, Pesia. Incidentally, Yonah and his wife never had children. He eventually was caught by the KGB and passed away while in prison.

My grandfather, Rabbi Sholom, passed away this week at 89 years old in New York. He was surrounded by children, grandchildren and great grandchildren who are all proud Jews, and we are living the life he got dirty for. That “teachable moment” will forever be passed on through his family, most of whom are Rabbis and teachers across the globe.

You see getting dirty never felt so good! When you know getting dirty will help defy the challenges we face in this world so that we can be a free charitable and loving people, then getting dirty is just a pleasure.

MAY HIS MEMORY BE A BLESSING!

Rabbi Tzvi Dechter is the director of Chabad of North Broward Beaches, located in the Venetain Isle Shopping Center at 2025 E. Sample Rd. in Lighthouse Point. For all upcoming events, please visit www.JewishLHP.com.