TEMPLE EMANUEL

CHERRY HILL, NEW JERSEY

SHABBAT SHALOM FROM TEMPLE EMANUEL

WE HOPE THIS WILL ADD TO YOUR FAMILY'S ENJOYMENT OF SHABBAT

Shabbat September 4, 2010 / 25 Elul 5770

Nitzavim/Va’yelech - Deuteronomy 29:9 - 31:30

PARASHA OVERVIEW

• Moses tells the assembled people that God’s covenant speaks to them and to all of the generations who will follow. (29:9-14)
• God warns the Israelites that they will be punished if they act idolatrously, the way the inhabitants of the other nations do. (29:15-28)
• Moses reassures the people that God will not forsake them and that they can attain blessings by following God’s commandments. (30:1-20)
• Moses prepares the people for his death and announces that Joshua will succeed him. (31:1-8)
• Moses instructs the priests and the elders regarding the importance of reading the Torah. (31:9-13)
• God informs Moses that upon his death, the people will commit idolatry and "many evils and troubles shall befall them." God tells Moses to teach the people a poem that will "be My witness." (31:14-30)

Parasha Summary

In parasha Nitzavim, Moses continues his farewell speech to the people. He tells the Israelites that "you are standing" (in Hebrew "nitzavim") this day before Adonai to conclude the covenant. This covenant binds the Israelites to God and God to the Israelites and was made not only with those present that day but with all Israel, past, present and future.

Moses tells the Israelites that the laws and instructions they have been given are not too difficult or beyond their reach. The ability to observe and maintain God's commandments is all close to them, "in their mouths and in their hearts" (Deuteronomy 30:14). Moses continues, saying that the people have been given a choice between life and prosperity or death and adversity. Moses admonishes the people to choose life by loving Adonai and obeying the commandments.

In parasha Vayelech, Moses informs the Israelites that he is 120 years old and therefore too old to continue as an active leader. Moses reminds the people that God has already told him that he would not live to enter the Promised Land. Moses publicly announces that Joshua will be the next leader of the people.

After completing the writing of this "Teaching" (the Torah), Moses gives it to the Levites and to all the elders of Israel. Moses instructs them to read this Teaching aloud to the entire community of Israel- men, women and children every seventh year when they gather to celebrate the holiday of Sukkot.

The “Close to You” Mystery by Amy R. Perlin

All the Jewish endings come together every year. Here we are at the last Shabbat of 5770. We are almost at the end of the Torah, with just five chapters left to go. The old year is coming to an end. In just a few days, we will come into the synagogue for Rosh Hashanah seeking guidance and direction as we embark on a new year. If, as I proposed when I began writing these passages on Deuteronomy months ago, the Torah is our GPS for life, where is this week’s portion taking us? How many options are we given for this last leg of our journey?

The answer in Deuteronomy 30:11–14 is that we do not have to travel by plane or spacecraft, nor do we need to book a cruise. The blueprint for a new year is closer than we think:

Surely, this Instruction [mitzvah] which I enjoin upon you this day is not too baffling for you, nor is it beyond your reach. It is not in the heavens, that you should say, “Who among us can go up to the heavens and get it for us and impart it to us, that we may observe it?” Neither is it beyond the sea, that you should say, “Who among us can cross to the other side of the sea and get if for us and impart it to us, that we may observe it?” No, the thing is very close to you, in your mouth and in your heart, to observe it.

I love that phrase, “the thing is very close to you.” But, I ask myself, “What does it mean for something to be close to us?”

I found a passage by an unknown author that answers this question for me.

In Rabbinic literature, we find an interesting story attributed to Rabbi Joshua ben Chananiah. Once, Rabbi Joshua was walking on a road seeking his way to an unfamiliar town. He met a young boy at the crossroads. I imagine that the boy was very much like the scarecrow in The Wizard of Oz. Rabbi Joshua asked, “Which is the way to town?” The boy, pointing his finger to the right answered, “This road is near and far.” He turned to the left, pointed his finger, and said, “This road is far and near.” 

Now, let’s stop right here. As an avid mystery reader, I know that the words used by people can be critical to solving a mystery. “Near and far” . . . “far and near”—which road would you take?

Rabbi Joshua ben Chananiah clearly was not a member of the Agatha Christie Society. He took the road to the right, the one the boy told him was near and far, thinking it was the shorter, because he stopped listening actively after the word “near.” Yet, soon the rabbi discovered that the way was obstructed by fruit gardens surrounded with fences.

Tired and frustrated, Rabbi Joshua returned and found the boy who had given him directions. “Why did you mislead me?” Rabbi Joshua admonished in a grumpy tone.

“You did not take heed of my directions,” the boy responded respectfully. “Did I not say that the road to the right is near and far? It is the nearer road if you ask about distance on a map, but because of the garden barriers, it is the farther involving more time and effort to traverse. I told you that the other road was far and near. It is further on the map, but nearer because it is clear and unobstructed” (Babylonian Talmud, Eiruvin 53b and Midrash Eichah Rabbah 1, in Moments of Transcendence: Inspirational Readings for Rosh Hashanah, ed. Dov Peretz Elkins [Northvale, NJ: Jason Aronson, 1992], p. 32)

God tells us in Deuteronomy that Torah and mitzvot are not far from us in the heavens or across the sea. We are too often like the impatient Rabbi Joshua, asking for directions but not truly listening to them, clear as they may be. Moreover, we do not ask very many follow up questions, an important tool in solving any mystery. Too often, we don’t hear someone out before we act or jump to conclusions. God doesn’t only say that the answer is “close to you.” God actually tells us the location of this incredible gift of Torah: “[it is] in your mouth and in your heart, to observe it.”

When we come into our synagogues on the High Holy Days, we will ask forgiveness for all of the times we took the long way through the fences and orchards and other obstacles with our mouths and the words that came out of them. We didn’t let the Torah guide our speech or our writing, and it ultimately took us a lot longer to remedy a detour that could have been a straight path guided by kindness, compassion, and understanding.

We will seek atonement as we enter 5771 for all of the times we were deaf to our hearts’ pleas for respite, when we knew that Shabbat would give us peace and rest. Instead, we took the seemingly shorter route by continuing our work and our responsibilities leaving ourselves no time for a Sabbath of rest. Yet, this “shortcut” ultimately created an over-programmed and far less-fulfilling life in which we expended great time and energy with little personal or spiritual result.

Observance not only takes less time, but in the end, it offers a better, clearer, and unobstructed path. The observant Jew knows that keeping Torah close to you is the direct way to Shabbat and holidays, study and spirituality, mitzvot and acts of social justice. The mitzvot add meaning, purpose, and direction in a life filled with stress and struggles. As Reform Jews, we need to remember that a life guided by Torah is for us as well.

Often we are Rabbi Joshua, quick to blame the giver of directions—God, rabbis, teachers, tradition, or Torah. But, patiently and lovingly, a modern, authentic Judaism is the boy at the crossroads offering the way, if we would only listen, reflect, and seek answers when the way is unclear.

Sh’ma Yisrael, “Listen Israel!” This week’s portion is offering you a direction: Take the road that is far but near. It is very close to you.

Rabbi Amy R. Perlin is the senior and founding rabbi of Temple B’nai Shalom in Fairfax Station, Virginia.

Is That the Best You Can Do? by Yair Robinson

There is a story told by Winston Lord of a speech he wrote for Henry Kissinger.

“[Kissinger] called me in the next day and said, ‘Is this the best you can do?’ . . . this went on eight times, eight drafts; each time he said, ‘Is this the best you can do?’ So I went in there with a ninth draft, and when he . . . asked me that same question . . . I said, ‘Henry, I've beaten my brains out . . . I know it's the best I can do. . . ..’ He then looked at me and said, ‘. . .  now I'll read it.’” 

Doing one’s best has come to be a cop out: something we might say, mealy-mouthed, to avoid improving ourselves. But as this story illustrates, it’s actually a challenge—to commit one’s faculties and abilities fully to the task at hand.

But what happens when our best isn’t enough? At some point, we will say the wrong or hurtful word, we will duck our responsibility to others, we will be overwhelmed by the task before us. What then?

We find an answer this week in our parashah, where turning is mentioned twice (Deuteronomy 30:1−2). First, when our best isn’t good enough, we turn to God (v’shavta ad Adonai, “and you return to the Eternal your God,” Deuteronomy 30:2). Then, God turns to us (v’shav Adonai, “the Eternal your God will restore . . . ,” Deuteronomy 30:3). That turning defines our High Holidays. When we falter we turn and say, “I did my best, but sometimes it wasn’t good enough. I’m sorry, and I will do better in the future.”

As the High Holy Days approach, ask yourself: when were you at your best this year? What do you need to work on? How will you turn again to God, and those in our community?

No one is perfect, but so long as we strive with all our heart and soul to do our best, we may turn toward blessing.

Rabbi Yair Robinson is the rabbi at Congregation Beth Emeth in Wilmington Delaware

D'VAR TORAH

In February 2005, I was witness to an amazing moment during a visit to the Knesset, Israel’s parliament. After several hours of meetings, the small group I was with was prevented from leaving and told to wait at the bottom of a staircase. At the top were two rows of uniformed police officers. A few minutes passed, and suddenly, everyone stood at attention. Through the phalanx of police walked German President Horst Koehler, on the first such visit by the president of Germany to the State of Israel. It was almost sixty years to the day after Allied troops liberated Auschwitz. On this day, however, the head of Germany strode into the Knesset, the representative body of the Jewish State, side by side with the prime minister and president of Israel, flanked by Jewish policemen.

President Koehler began his remarks in Hebrew and then continued in German. In his address he said that responsibility for the Holocaust was an integral part of his country’s national identity and cautioned that the battle against anti-Semitism had not been won. He also noted Germany’s support of Israel and Israel’s right to exist and defend itself against Arab aggressors. He concluded, “Germany stands unswervingly side by side with Israel and its people.”

In the days after the liberation of the death camps, if someone had said that Jewish police would guard the head of Germany in a Jewish land and that he would affirm German affiliation with the Jews and the Jewish state, we would have laughed at the possibility. Yet I have witnessed such a thing. And if this happened, we can have faith that similar progress can be made with those who are our enemies today. Forgiveness, reconciliation, and restoration of relationships—these are central themes of the approaching Days of Awe that are alluded to in the parashah that always appears just before Rosh HaShanah—Nitzavim/Vayeilech.
 
Set before us is the blessing and the curse—symbols of the power we have to choose our fate. The Hebrew word for “repentance,” t’shuvah, stems from the Hebrew word shuv, “return.” Some form of this word occurs seven times in the first two paragraphs of Deuteronomy 30. This serves as a reminder to the Israelites as they are about to enter the Land of Israel that if and when the relationship with God is broken, it can be restored. What a powerful message of hope and consolation this is for future generations who will lose their way.

In our own lives, we too can lose our way. We betray trusts, leave promises unfulfilled, and do not act in ways that allow us to realize our own potential. It is even more difficult when we feel that past mistakes bind us in ways that prevent change. As the band U2 sings, we get “stuck in a moment,” assuming that who we were and what we did is the measure of who we are—or will be. How easy it is for us to assume the same of others.

Our parashah challenges us, however, to put aside despair, to have confidence in ourselves and faith in others. How do we choose to be a blessing? 

• First, we must stand up straight (see Deuteronomy 29:9, “you stand this day, all of you”) and take responsibility for our behavior. We must admit our past transgressions, but not become mired in them. The awesomeness of the coming days is that change is possible, that the past is not a determinant of the future.
• Second, we must be open to the possibility of change at any moment. Why add the word hayom, “this day” (Deuteronomy 30:11)? To teach us that we should not put off the possibility of change for some distant messianic time. Rather, it can happen in our lives and in our lifetime. Enemies can become friends, those distant from us can be brought close, wounds can be healed—now!
• Finally, our parashah gives us a goal for the coming Days of Awe to demonstrate in our actions that we have changed. “The thing is very close to you, in your mouth and in your heart to observe it” (Deuteronomy 30:14; emphasis added). The Hebrew for “observe,” laasot, also means “to do.” It is not, then, merely by saying the proper prayers or asking for forgiveness that we are changed. Ultimately, how we or others act—what we do in our lives—is the measure of true repentance.

There are often moments when we despair that things may not change. This parashah and the Days of Awe are a radical challenge to such despondency. Even the most egregious of enemies can, in time, become allies—even friends.

The children of those who sought to wipe out the Jewish people now seek forgiveness—and stand with us. This can serve as a beacon of hope to we who live through difficult times with the current enemies of Israel. And if nations can change, so can individuals: children who have not spoken with parents, brothers and sisters who have become distant from one another, loved ones who have been betrayed and have all but lost the capacity to trust.

Too often we get “stuck in a moment.” We have the capacity, however, to “stand up straight” by allowing ourselves (and others) the possibility of change, taking responsibility, and acting in a way that reflects our noblest intentions. With hope, then, we live and pray that even the most difficult of times will pass.

Commentary

How can a contract or covenant made many, many centuries ago, obligate all future generations to honor its terms?

Rabbi Isaac Abarbanel, a Torah scholar who lived in the 15th century, explained it in this way. If a person borrows money and cannot pay it back in his/her lifetime, the obligation falls on the descendants. Just as children inherit money and property from their parents, so do they inherit their debts? Abarbanel suggests that Israel remains in debt to God for its liberation from Egypt and the gifts of Torah and Eretz Yisrael and avows that future generations will not and cannot reject this inheritance.

Professor Nehama Leibowitz, a modern Torah commentator, argues that the children do not inherit their parents' debts if they decide to give up all of their inheritance. However, she claims that inherited debt and the debt of the covenant are not comparable. God took the Israelites out of Egypt and redeemed them from slavery. For this we owe a debt of gratitude and thanksgiving but this is not the reason for our keeping the covenant. We as a people made a promise to God, to follow God's teachings forever. When a nation or a country makes a promise to do something, it is a commitment that must be kept forever.

According to Professor Leibowitz, the covenant with God is legal and binding for all time.

Rabbi Gunther Plaut suggests that future generations, those born into the nation as well as those who will join it voluntarily, are committed to the covenant even though they had no voice in concluding it. Plaut remarks that this concept is essential to the continuity of Torah and of the people who are its bearers. He concludes that we are who we are because of our ancestors and of their achievements and failures.

Rabbi Meir taught the following Midrash to explain the concept of inherited covenant: When the Israelites came to the mountains of Sinai to receive the Torah; they discovered that God was not willing to give it without proof that they would cherish this precious gift. So God said to Israel: "Give Me guarantors that you will treasure My Torah."

The people of Israel said: "Our ancestors will be our guarantors." God answered: "They are not sufficient. I have found fault with your ancestors. They would need guarantors for themselves!" The Israelites spoke again: "If You will not accept our ancestors, accept our Prophets - they will vouch for us." But God answered: “I have found fault with your prophets as well. They too would need their own guarantors. You may try one more time." The Israelites, newly freed from the slavery of Egypt, looked up to the heavens and said to God: "If You will give us Your Torah, we will offer You our children." And God said: "Since you offer Me your children, I will give you My Torah." (Song of Songs Rabbah 1:4)

Passing the Torch by Philip N. Kranz

Transitions are inevitable but rarely easy. Psychologists inform us that the loss of a loved one, a change of residence, or a new job are among the most traumatic events a human being can experience. For a community or nation, the installment of a new political leader can be no less unsettling. Only if that transition is thoughtfully planned does everyone benefit.

During the middle years of the twentieth century, a number of African nations were granted their independence from colonial rule. The transition was smooth in those nations that were properly prepared for leadership. In many of the others, however, where the colonial powers simply left, freedom and democracy have still not been established.

The example of Moses in this week's double Torah portion, Parashat Nitzavim/Vayelech, teaches us a timely and timeless lesson on how to effect a positive and productive transition of leadership. Chapter 31 of Deuteronomy provides a step-by-step guide on the correct way to pass the torch.

Knowing When to Call It Quits

It is an art to know when to retire. Not only can extending one's tenure beyond the time of effective leadership result in damage to the community, it also tends to erase all memory of the good that the leader had performed in the past. Moses is not afraid to admit that he "can no longer be active." (Deuteronomy 31:2) He himself acknowledges that it is time for change.

Giving Support to One's Successor

Nothing is more damaging to the process of transition than the undermining of the authority of one's successor by a retiring leader. Moses proclaims publicly that Joshua is the ideal person to succeed him and in so doing, Moses also affirms the decision of the "top management." "Joshua," Moses tells the assembly "is the one who shall cross before you, as God has spoken." (Deuteronomy 31:3)

Providing Public Support for One's Successor

"In the sight of all Israel," Moses bestows his blessing upon Joshua, giving him encouragement and affirmation, essentially assuring him that he is perfect for the task. (Deuteronomy 31:7) At the same time, Moses is careful not to offer too much advice, being wise enough to exit with grace and dignity.

Moses' greatness as a human being and community leader is revealed in his consecration of Joshua. The thoughtfulness and prudence he demonstrates guarantee Joshua's ultimate effectiveness as successor to Moses. The great lawgiver can now ascend Mount Nebo in peace, without regret and concern. He knows that he was the best possible leader during the time he served and that he had done everything he could have to insure that leadership would be transferred to the best person for the job.

Disraeli once said that "change is inevitable in a progressive society." Moses teaches us that it also takes a special sensitivity to know when the time for change has come, a special insight to know how to effect that change, and the grace to help that transition take place without displaying any hurt feelings or resentment.

 Philip N. Kranz is the senior rabbi of Temple Sinai in Atlanta, GA

Covenants and Codes - Renewing for Ourselves As We Innovate for the Future
Rachel Mersky and David A. Mersky

I make this covenant…with those who are standing here…and with those who are not with us here this day. (Deuteronomy 29:13-14)

In Parashat Nitzavim, God renews the covenant with the people of the "present" generation as well as with those who are not yet born. This covenant, neither bound by time nor place, creates a sense of continuity between the Torah and those who uphold its teachings. By participating in the renewal of the covenant, those present made a commitment to the generations to come. Implicit in that commitment is the responsibility of each generation to transmit this experience with the Divine to each subsequent generation. From a different point of view, there is a rabbinic teaching in a Midrash that states that the souls of these future generations were present when the covenant was renewed. If the souls of the future generations were in fact present, then why do we have to teach each subsequent generation? It is because by teaching, we relearn that which we already know. That is why when we study; we should not do so alone but with a companion or, better yet, with a community of learners.

We read Parashat Nitzavim on the Shabbat immediately preceding Rosh Hashanah, when we are in the process of reflecting on our past in preparation for the future. For many of us, our past includes involvement in NFTY, the North American Federation of Temple Youth. We have wonderful memories of a time when we felt a true sense of belonging. It was in NFTY that many of us experienced for the first time a clearer understanding of who we were as young adults in the Jewish community, responsible for our own actions, our own learning, and our own expression of spiritual yearning.

NFTY is what it is today thanks to the commitment and success of past generations of Reform Jewish youth. They paved the way for us to explore and live Reform Judaism by creating a communal covenant based on the three essential elements of Judaism: study, worship, and acts of loving-kindness. NFTY has been and continues to be committed to Jewish education, spiritual exploration, social action, and personal growth in the congregational setting.

NFTY is governed by a covenant called the Code of Conduct, which is a list of rules that help maintain the health and safety of our participants. Some NFTYites perceive the Code of Conduct as negative reinforcement that dictates what they cannot do. However, the structure that the Code of Conduct creates provides boundaries that enable NFTY to continue to be the quintessential place for Reform Jewish youth to grow and learn. This generation of NFTYites is having a significantly different experience from the one that the founding generation of NFTY had. We are trying to teach them to focus on the endless opportunities that exist as they pass through this wonderful stage of personal Jewish growth. It is our responsibility to renew the communal covenant for today's generation just as it was renewed for us by those who came before.

Rachel Mersky is the assistant director of NFTY. Rabbi David A. Mersky is the managing director of Mersky Jaffe & Associates and was the vice president of NFTY from 1961-63.

BRAINSTORMING WITH BAARS by Rabbi Stephen Baars

The legendary real estate tycoon stared intently at his interviewer.” Only two choices have I ever made in my life." "And they were?" questioned the reporter.

"The first was when I decided to work seriously at being rich."

"And what was the second?"

"Recently, when I decided to retire."

"That's it?" the reporter said in amazement.

"I wish I had more", the tycoon responded, "but everything I ever did followed logically from these two decisions."

"And tell me", the reporter asked, "Which was the hardest to make?"

"Without a question, the second."

"Then, I don't understand", the reporter said incredulously, "why did you make it?"

"Because," the tycoon said in a deep and soulful tone, "I realized that until that moment... I had only made one choice in my life!"

The essence of life is choosing. It is what makes us most human. It defines who we are. It is the source of our greatest pride and our greatest pleasure.

We laud our choices, holding them high for all to see: "Come see what I have chosen; see how clever and wise I am."

When we stop choosing, we stop living. But finding meaningful choices is not easy.

In theory, you could choose whether to get out of bed or not, whether to eat or not, whether to go to work or not. But do you really have these choices? Is not doing them really a viable option?

A real "choice" has to have a reasonable alternative, the possibility to just as easily choose "Yes" as choose "No."

If we could just as easily choose between eating or not eating, if both choices seemed equally desirable and good, our lives would be very scary indeed. Every day would be a battle within ourselves: "Should I eat, or shouldn't I eat?"

Imagine if all our actions involved such choice. We'd be a nervous wreck by the time we got to the office!

Such a life, though, would be thrilling and exciting beyond words. It's the kind of life mercenaries sell themselves for, the excitement of having to think through the most mundane of actions: "Maybe there's a land mine under my boot. Or maybe the car is booby- trapped."

As the choices of life diminish, the more meaningless it grows.

In reality, however, difficult choices are something we tend to run away from. It looks great on TV, but who wants that kind of pressure?

Thus we have a paradox: The more we limit life by removing the choices, the more boring, repetitive and meaningless life gets. On the other hand, the more we confront difficult decisions, the more exciting life is - but the more pressure it has. What should we do?

What many people opt for is the "illusion" of choice. These illusions come in many shades. Popular hues include the soap opera, murder mysteries and the NFL.

All these forms of entertainment are popular because they involve people with whom we can identify as they live through their struggles. When Joe Montana steps up to the line of scrimmage, I can determine what I would do if I were him. I "call the plays" and make choices, albeit illusionary ones. It's like a virtual reality life!

Business can be another shade of illusion. Isn't it exciting to decide where to invest and what to sell? But this, too, is not real choice. This is really just a matter of being smart enough to understand the principles, in which case you'll make more money than the next guy. There aren't necessarily meaningful alternatives. But it does give the "feeling" of real choices.

If the only result is that I can buy another car or take another vacation, then the choice is not very significant.

MEANINGFUL MOMENTS

The KGB officer knocked three times. "Does comrade Kapolsky live here?"

"No!" came the stern reply from behind the tightly closed door.

The officer shrugged and walked away, only to return a half hour later. He knocked again three times, this time harder.

"Are you sure Kapolsky doesn't live here?"

"Very sure!" came the immediate answer.

"What's your name?" the officer questioned.

"Kapolsky."

"I thought you said Kapolsky doesn't live here?  "Kapolsky replied, "You call this living?!"

Existing" is easy, but "living" requires active participation and choice. We can go through a whole year just existing, but living requires 365 days of choosing life. The Torah is telling us that mere "existence" equal death. Because if we're not growing, we're decaying.

For choices to be real and meaningful, there have to be consequences. Choices that have the greatest consequence are the most meaningful. For example, the day you decided to get married or the day you decided on your career were your most meaningful days. You grew as a person because you made choices. People who don't make choices... don't change and don't grow up!

You cannot have a meaningful life if you only occasionally do something meaningful. Meaningful lives require many meaningful moments.

But how can you make meaningful choices every day? What is there to choose from?

This week's parasha quotes G-d as saying: "Behold! I have put before you this day, life and good, death and evil... the blessing and the curse. Choose life in order that you will live, you and your descendants." (Deut. 30:15 - 19)

Both life and death are in front of us. Both are equally available.

But how do we "choose life?" Surely we don't "choose" life - that's like saying we "choose to breathe!"

What are some of the choices of life? For example:

• How should you be raising your child?
• How should you treat your spouse?
• What would you most want to do with your days?
• Should you work less and spend more time with your family?
• How about trying Shabbat?
• Or even spending meaningful time by yourself?

They are difficult to choose because it's so much easier to not think about them... to keep going on our accustomed path without evaluating it... to just "exist."

We say: "But then I can't... It's uncomfortable..."

If you want to stop this merry-go-round called "existing," then you have to make serious choices. It's time to drop the convenient answers. Get beyond what is comfortable. You have to be prepared to do something else, to give yourself real alternatives. That's what makes up the choice of life. The choice of life cannot be passive because life is not passive.

Do you want to be here? Do you want to do what you are doing, or are you doing it because you did it yesterday, and yesterday you did it because of the day before? Can you trace back your life to some initial decision to become rich or famous or comfortable? Perhaps some time in college, did you put your life on automatic pilot - and forget to check the gauges? Without choices, you are no longer alive. And when you are no longer alive, you are no longer you.

BRAINSTORMING QUESTIONS TO PONDER

Question 1: What was the most difficult choice you ever made?

Question 2: What choice are you facing now? Are you dealing with it, or trying to go around it?

Question 3: Are you "living" or are you "existing?" How do you know?

FAMILY PARASHA FOR PARENTS AND KIDS

Real life has a lot to offer -- from the beauty of nature (even in our own back yard) to the warm feelings of being part of a family and a community. The simple pleasures of our daily encounters with the people around us can make our lives feel happy and rich.

Yet nowadays with so many types of entertainment to choose from, and all the exciting new gadgets that seem to be springing up everyday, we can get lost in fantasy and almost forget about our real lives.

The Torah portion this week reminds us to "choose life" -- to choose to fully live and appreciate the specialness of the real lives that God had given us; to realize that there is a lot to enjoy for each of us everyday.

In our story, a boy helps his brother to choose life and realize it has a lot to offer.

"Smoke Screen" by Nesanel Safran

"DO NOT DISTURB -- DEFENDER AT WORK!" read the sign in bold black letters hanging on the door to Eitan's room.

Eitan would lock himself alone in there for hours at a time and submerge himself in what he liked to call his "control center."

His "control center" included a surround-sound audio system and a state of the art large screen computer/video hook-up complete with the latest interactive game software. His grandparents had given it to him for his birthday and lately it seemed to be all he was interested in.

One afternoon his older brother Doron knocked on the door. There was no answer. He knocked again, harder, causing the do not disturb sign to swing back and forth on its hook.

"Go away earthling," barked out an annoyed sounding voice from with the room.

"Hey, come on out, Eitan," Doron shouted. "I need to talk to you."

Finally the door opened a crack and Doron could make out his younger brother's silhouette from behind it. He was wearing his new silver and day-glow wireless virtual space helmet.

"Eitan, I could use your help. I'm putting up screens on the windows. It's getting to be bee season and they're coming in. One even stung Rachel," he added, referring to their kid sister who could be heard crying in the background.

"Forget it!" answered the younger boy. "First of all I told you my name's not Eitan anymore, its 8-N. And secondly I'm busy with something much more important right now -- saving the world!"

"What do you mean?" asked Doron, incredulous.

"I mean," said Eitan, "That the Zilgons have practically entered our atmosphere. If I don't monitor the situation there will be a total invasion."

Doron rolled his eyes. "That's just a video game," he said. "It isn't really happening. Come on out and help me, or at least help Avi rake the leaves, you know how mom's allergic.

Besides," he added, "It's beautiful outside. The fresh air will do you good."

"Rake the leaves!" gasped Eitan. "How can you worry about such trivia while the future of the galaxy is at stake?!"

"Listen, brother," said Doron in an understanding tone. "I know you're really into your video games. I like to play too sometimes. But there's more to life. You live in a real family, with real people who care about you and expect you to be part of us. If you care about invasions, come help me with the real-life bee invasion that's going to happen soon if we don't get these screens up."

Eitan was quiet. He opened the door, took off his space helmet, looking a little embarrassed. "I guess I am getting a bit carried away," he said. "It's just that the games are so … exciting. Real life is boring," he sighed.

"Only if you let it be," countered Doron. "Believe me it was pretty exciting when that bee was chasing me a few minutes ago. And when I finally managed to trap it and looked at it up close, it really looked like something from out of this world. God created an amazing world -- right here, right now. And you don't need any special helmets to enjoy it. So what do you say, 8-N?"

The younger boy chuckled. "You can call me Eitan," he said. "My real name is exciting enough too, I suppose. Hand me a force-field … er, a screen, and let's get going!"

DISCUSSION QUESTIONS

Age 3-5

Q. How did Eitan feel when his brother first asked him to stop playing the video game and help out in the house?

A. He was upset because he felt that what he was doing was more important.

Q. Was Eitan really helping more people by pretending to "save the world" on his video game or helping his family in the house?

A. By helping his family.

Q. Why?

A. Because even though his game was fun and exciting for him, it wasn’t real. But helping out his family was something real he could do to actually help people.

Age 6-9

Q. Would it really make any difference in the lives of Eitan and his family if the "Zilgons" in his video game invaded the Earth or not?

A. No.

Q. So why do you suppose Eitan was so caught up as to sit for hours in front of the screen in order to "defend the world?"

A. Things like video games, TV, etc., are designed to get a person excited. They simulate situations that, if they really happened in our lives, would be terrifying. (Imagine if aliens really had invaded!) But since in the end, these games aren’t really a part of our real lives, a person ends up getting all excited about nothing. These games can be fun for a while. But sooner or later, we all want more. We find that we want to put our energy into things with real meaning, and that when we do, it’s much more interesting than any video game. This is called "choosing life."

Q. Would you say that it’s necessary to be exposed constantly to new and different people and things for life to be interesting and exciting? Or can a person still feel that way around the same people and places everyday?

A. When we see the same people and places everyday it’s easy to get used to them. But in reality we only have to look deeper and we can see the wonders that God has put into the everyday. Next chance you get, pick up a flower or even a leaf and look at. Really look at it. You might be amazed at the awesome detail and incredible design that you see. Poets and artists are able to see this way and find the spectacular within the everyday things. Scientists teach us that the inner workings of the most simple flower or insect contain wonders that boggle the mind. Each person you meet is like a world waiting to be discovered. Life around us is amazing once we open our eyes.

Ages 10-13

Q. Unfortunately we often hear of people who become caught up in dangerous habits and self-destructive behavior. They claim that they engage in this behavior in order to "escape." From what do you think they’re trying to escape? Do you think they succeed?

A. Life can be challenging. God put us in the world and designed our lives to include many challenges. When we face these challenges and try our best to meet them, we grow as people. This is spiritual growth and while at times it can be uncomfortable or even painful, it can be the most valuable and meaningful part of life. Of course, there is always the temptation to try to escape or sidestep these challenges by blurring our minds and numbing ourselves to what is uncomfortable in reality. But ultimately this technique is about as effective as the ostrich who buries its head in the sand when it sees a lion. Sooner or later all challenges must be faced in order to grow. How much better to face them with our eyes open.

Q. In your opinion, who do you think is doing a more important job: a teacher who spends long days helping physically challenged (handicapped) kids learn how to walk and talk to live happier and fuller lives, or a big movie star, who spends his free time on the beach?

A. The teacher.

Q. Which one do you think receives more money and fame?

A. The actor.

Q. How do you explain this?

A. It can happen that those who are the real heroes of our society can be overlooked and at the same time somebody else doing something that in a real sense is not very important is considered a "star." One of the reasons is that the work that the real heroes are doing, although more important, doesn’t always seem as glamorous as the movies. Also, people who are genuinely interested in helping others and helping to make the world a better place often aren’t so concerned about their own fame and fortune. They know that what they are doing has real meaning in their eyes and in the eyes of God. This is enough of a reward for them. People like this, even if nobody ever hears of them, really make the world go around.

Shabbat Shalom,

Mayda Clarke