It was one of those gloomy rainy days when people try to stay indoors unless they absolutely have to get somewhere, in which case they huddle over and scurry along intent to reach their destination without spending an extra second outdoors. But there I was, standing outside with no destination in mind at all. In fact, I was standing outside just waiting. There were eight men inside our shul at the Marriott Hotel and we needed one more to make a minyan. So there, I, the ninth man, stood, looking for a tenth Jew. Sure enough, someone walked past and agreed to come inside and join us for davening (prayer). Before he left, I thanked him and memorized his email address and phone number.
For the next two years I reached out to him, over and over again, at different times, in different ways. I invited him to Shabbat dinners at my house, to High Holiday services, and to our sukkah. I reached out to him on Chanukah to see if he wanted a menorah. I invited him to our Purim party, Pesach seder and to hear the 10 commandments on Shavuot. I emailed, texted and facebooked him, and finally, after my two-year onslaught he agreed to meet me for coffee.
We sat down and he said, “Rabbi, I want to ask you about something that’s been bothering me for quite a while.” I was expecting to hear some question about Judaism, something philosophical, or an ethical dilemma. But no. He wanted to know, “Rabbi, what do you want from me?” His question actually caught me off guard and I had to think for a second, what do I want from him?
As I tried to formulate an answer, I was reminded of a conversation I had with another friend last week. I walked into his office and he explained that when he sees me, and studies with me, he is reminded of the spiritual world and its importance. But when I leave, he is again immersed in the business world and it becomes easy to forget about spirituality.
This Sunday is Tisha Be’av, the day we mourn for the destruction of both Holy Temples. It is a day of fasting and prayer; the saddest day on the Jewish calendar. The Shabbat before Tisha Be’av is called Shabbat Chazon, the "Shabbat of Vision." Rabbi Levi Yitzchak explains that on this Shabbat each and every one of us is granted a vision of the third and final Temple. It is our soul that sees this vision, and it has the power to evoke a profound response in us, even if we are not consciously aware of the cause of our sudden inspiration.
G-d is showing us, this is what I want from you! I want you rebuild the temple. This is your mission statement. This is the goal. How do we rebuild it? Through doing good deeds. Through showing love and acceptance to those around us. Through giving extra tzeddakah (charity). Through scheduling time to learn Torah, on our own or with others.
This is what G-d wants from us, and this is what I want from my friend – and all my friends!
It is time to tune into our spirituality and focus on the important things in life. And Friday night, G-d will show our souls what to expect when we do that.
Bulgaria, July 18, 2000:
We’ve learned to expect it: whenever we plan an event we inevitably have people calling at the very last minute (long past the reservation date) wanting to join. Our recent Belev Echad Friday night dinner was no exception. We’d sent emails, mailings and facebook invitations months in advance. We’d made announcements in shul and at other events. And while many people did make advance reservations, we still had calls coming in all through the last week. On Wednesday we calculated that we could not fit more than 500 people into the hall and we confirmed that number with the caterer. Five hundred reservations, five hundred seats and five hundred meals. We were good to go.
Suffering from a sore throat this past weekend, I tried to treat myself with tea, honey, lots of fluids and more rest than usual. When several days passed, and my throat still felt no better, I made myself a doctor’s appointment – something I haven’t done in years.