Wednesday, September 13, 2006

Shafran and Shefa

Not surprisingly, the Shefa folks are up in arms about Avi Shafran's latest shot across the Conservative bow. Shafran writes in the Jerusalem Post that "a prediction I made in an article for Moment magazine more than five years ago - and for which, at the time, I was roundly pilloried - has been confirmed by recent events." What recent event could have confirmed Shafran - none other than the clear signal that a Conservative decision recognizing homosexuality is imminent. So, while Shafran could only predict 5 years ago that the Conservative movement would drop its adherence to Halacha, now he has his proof?

But that isn't what causes me to write. It is Bill Plevan's response. Plevan takes the standard way out of this accusation - he simply states that what Shafran understands as halacha and what the Conservative movement understands as halacha are different and therefore the accusation is baseless. Plevan says, "his [Shafran's] characterization of the 'halachic process of the millennia' is at best contestable, which is precisely what many rabbis and scholars within Conservative Judaism have argued for a "century." Of course, the only Rabbis who contest this are Conservative rabbis, who, having abandoned an adherence to traditional understandings of halacha have taken it upon themselves to define halacha to fit their own pre-conceptions.

Lets face it, Neil Gillman is write when he states categorically that it is time for the Conservative movement to abandon its tortured defense of its halachic bona fides. Gillman writes in this issue of Conservative Judaism magazine that a definition of halacha as loose and flexible as that of the Conservative movement can hardly be called halachic at all. I'm no fan of Rabbi Gillman, but I have to admire his candor. I surprised that Avi Shafran didn't quote directly from the leading philosopher of the movement.

Kavvanah

My son and I were talking last night about Kavvanah. His goal is to daven with Kavvanah at all times, but he finds this very difficult in his school minyan in which few are davening at all or in our shul minyan in which the pace is too fast for him to concentrate. We talked about whether it is really possible to strive to daven always with such concentration and intent.

I related a story that I had heard from a source now forgotten. A Rabbi in a Yeshivah asked his students how often they davened with Kavvanah. Answers ranged from "Every day" to "Once or twice a week." No student wanted to admit that Kavvanah was hard to achieve, at least on occasion. The Rabbi told his students, "I feel fortunate if I can daven with Kavvanah once or twice a year."

Kavvanah is something you can strive to achieve, but can not achieve consciously. Once you become aware that you are davening with Kavvanah, it is over. Kavvanah is an attempt to become joined to G-d, such that there is no difference between your prayer and G-d. As Rabbi Pinchas, a Hasidic master, says, "When a man who is praying thinks his prayer is something apart from G-d, he is like a supplicant to whom the king gives what he has begged from him. But he who knows that prayer in itself is G-d is like the king’s son who takes whatever he needs from the stores of his father."

Kavvanah is a spark that burns only for a instant. Its brilliant light catches our eye, if we are looking in the right direction, but then, just as we see it, we lose sight of it and it vanishes. All we can do is to keep trying to capture that spark each time we reach out to HaShem with our prayers.

Pirkei Avot 4.13

Rabbi Eliezer ben Yaakov says: He who fulfills a single mitzvah gains for himself a single advocate; one who commits a single transgression gains for himself a single accuser. Repentence and good deeds are like a shield against retribution


I found, in the ArtScroll Pirkei Avos Treasury, a parable (paraphrased) for this mishna that is worth sharing:

There was a man who had three friends. He loved the first friend very much and spent much time pursuing this friendship, sometimes to the exclusion of other friends. The second friend was almost as close and he felt very comfortable in this friend's company. The third friend was more of an acquaintance; the man would occasionally seek out this friend, but might go some time without his friend's company.

This man was summoned to appear before the court to be accused of a crime. The man, understandably concerned and wanting for someone to stand with him, approached his first friend, but this friend would not accompany the man to the court. The second friend was willing to accompany the man to the court, but only as far as the outside steps, not inside the courtroom. Desparate, the man approached the last friend, the acquaintance. This friend said that he would be happy to stand with the man in the court and help to defend him against the charges.

The first friend is like our money and wealth and all that we strive so hard and with such single-mindedness to accumulate. None of this will make any difference when we stand before our Judge and answer for our actions. The second friend is like our family who loves us and whom we love. They can accompany us only as far as the cemetery and no farther. They can not stand with us when we stand before the Judge. The third friend is our good deeds, our true repentence, and the mitzvot that we have strived to keep. These stand with us when we answer our accuser before the Judge of all. These are our witnesses that we have striven to live our life as G-d intended it.

As we approach the Yomim Noraim, we can keep in mind that even one mitzvah may be just what is needed to tip the scales of justice in our favor. A single mitzvah may be the advocate that we need to win a favorable judgment.

(Delivered 9/8/2006 at Congregation Agudath Israel