Remembering What We Have & Who We Are

Rabbi Joey Haber The story is told of a woman who came to a Rabbi seeking advice, explaining that she was in the process of growing in her religious observance, but her husband had been moving in the opposite direction. "Every Friday night," the woman said, with unmistakable pain in her voice, "my husband makes kiddush and then goes to watch television. It is so hard for me to handle." She asked the Rabbi if she should divorce him. "You just said that your husband recites kiddush every Friday night," the Rabbi replied. "Do you know what this means?" The woman was befuddled. She didn't know what to say. "That is such a beautiful thing," the Rabbi explained. "Every week, he pours a cup of wine, lifts it in the air, recites the verses of ויכולו , announcing that Hashem created the world in six days, and he then proclaims the sanctity of Shabbat. This is a precious mitzvah which he performs every week. Sometimes we need to see the flame and ignore the smoke." The woman was stunned. When she returned home, her anxious husband, who knew that she had gone to consult with a Rabbi, asked her what the Rabbi had said. The wife smiled and replied, "The Rabbi said you're a tzaddik ." She explained that the Rabbi emphasized the beauty of the mitzvah of kiddush that he fulfills every Shabbat, and how precious and valuable this mitzvah is. That Friday night, the husband recited kiddush more slowly then in the past, and he then went to watch television. The next Friday night, he stayed at the table for a short while after reciting kiddush before leaving to watch television. The week after that, he remained for the whole meal and only then went to watch. The next Shabbat, he didn't watch television at all. Eventually, he became a fully-committed Torah Jew. The husband went to the Rabbi and asked him about that meeting with his wife. He asked the Rabbi how he knew what to say, and how he knew that he would eventually return to observance. "Simple," the Rabbi said. "I saw what you didn't realize you had." This can be said of all of us. We don't see what we have inside us, the great potential we have, our ability to achieve greatness. And the reason we don't see this is because we're distracted by all the "noise" in our lives, by all the stuff going on, by all the things that society presents to us as important and significance but is really worthless. This "noise" grabs our attention and turns our focus away from who we really are. It draws our focus toward the "smoke" and away from the flame"; toward wasteful, unimportant matters, and away from things that have real value. The Mishnah in Pirkeh Avot (5:21) teaches: בן חמישים לעצה – once a person reaches the age of 50, he is qualified to advise other people. The Hafetz Haim explains that the average lifespan (before the modern era) was around 70 years, and each of the seven decades of life corresponds to one of the seven days of the week. Therefore, once a person reaches the age of 50, he begins his sixth decade – which corresponds to Friday, Erev Shabbat. This is the day when we start transitioning from the mundane workweek to the kedushah of Shabbat. Similarly, once a person reaches the age of 50 or so, he has a clearer sense of priorities, of what's important and what's not important. His life experience has given him a clearer perspective and greater clarity to distinguish between vanity and matters of significance. And so such a person is worth consulting and receiving advice from – because he has a clearer sense of what our priorities should be. The celebration of Shavuot, which we are currently preparing for, serves to remind us what we have and who we are. We spend this day reflecting on the fact that Hashem chose us from all other nations in the world, revealed Himself to us, established a special relationship with us, and gave us His sacred Torah which teaches us how to live a life of meaning. The Torah was given in the quiet desert, away from all the "noise," and the only noise the people heard were the sounds of Hashem's revelation. Matan Torah is about redirecting our focus and attention, about shutting out the noise so we can concentrate on our real selves, on the " kiddush ," the holiness within us, and recommit ourselves to make this our highest priority and our life's mission.