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Rosh Hashana 5770/2009 - Jewish Infertility

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SHAAREI TIKVAH/ FALL <strong>2009</strong><br />

59<br />

The greater the degree to which we are honest with ourselves,<br />

remaining aware of and giving direction to our<br />

“other self,” the more likely we are to achieve real change.<br />

Inside, we discover the yetzer hara, which is the part of<br />

us that takes joy, that feels power and self-affirmation, in<br />

the defeat of our rivals, even when we are behaving<br />

kenegged Hashem. We also find the nefesh habeheimis, the<br />

instinctive, animalistic side of our spiritual nature, as opposed<br />

to pure evil. Evil must be dealt with intelligently and<br />

unflinchingly (and this is where the reading and conventions<br />

come in), and it can be defeated with a strong dose<br />

of Hashem’s help, but our nefesh beheimis is here to stay.<br />

We will always be territorial and survival-oriented, attracted<br />

to the basic physical pleasures that are part and<br />

parcel of this world. This instinct can “sleep,” allowing us<br />

the dangerous illusion that is no longer alive, but it will live<br />

as long as we do. The greater the degree to which we are<br />

honest with ourselves, remaining aware of and giving direction<br />

to our “other self,” the more likely we are to achieve<br />

real change.<br />

The haftara on Yom Kipper presents two approaches to<br />

taming the beast. Sefer Yona, the Vilna Gaon tells us, is both<br />

the story of a prophet and the story of every soul. The soul<br />

is called yona, the dove, because of its instinctive desire to<br />

cleave to Hashem unconditionally and eternally – like the<br />

dove, who is ever loyal to its mate and, unlike other birds,<br />

will submit to the slaughterer’s knife without flinching or<br />

flapping its wings.<br />

It is also called ben Amitai, “son of the Truthful One,”<br />

since the soul also knows the truth instinctively. Its mission<br />

is to “go to the Great City,” the tumultuous, fascinating<br />

world out there, and “call out G-d’s Name,” make His Presence<br />

known, because “its evil has risen before Me.” What it<br />

its evil The Gaon tells us that there is only one accusation:<br />

“You have defiled My Sanctuary.” Hashem created for us a<br />

world that is bold, beautiful and engaging, but we are to<br />

use it with awareness and sanctity. Tragically, we tend to<br />

let our animal selves lead us aimlessly.<br />

Yona escaped to Tarshish, which was the richest and<br />

most colorful storehouse of wealth in the ancient world.<br />

He descended to Yaffo, which means “beauty,” in order to<br />

escape the challenge of his mission.<br />

The Lubavitcher Rebbe, Rav Shalom Ber, zy”a, tells us in<br />

his Kuntres Ha’avoda that there are two ways for us to take<br />

hold of the reins once again, so that we will be leading the<br />

“animal” rather than being led by it. Both involve changing<br />

our relationship to Hashem. One is awe of Hashem, and the<br />

other is love of Hashem.<br />

Awe is instinctive. It speaks the same language as the<br />

animal, provides us with the means of moving in a completely<br />

different direction. Through daily mediation on the<br />

physical world itself, its astounding intricacy, and its overwhelming<br />

and constantly changing beauty, we can move<br />

closer to reflecting on Hashem’s Presence in our own lives,<br />

His providence and His interventions. We can learn to see<br />

ourselves as part of the creation itself, just as dependent<br />

and subservient as a leaf or a sunset. This leads us to ask<br />

new questions, such as “How can I serve the Master”<br />

The other path is developing our love of Hashem, which<br />

is not a matter of instinct. When we say our daily prayers,<br />

we can focus on the truth of the words, both in the broadest<br />

and most general sense, and also in the most intimate<br />

and specific sense. Because this is counterintuitive, prayer<br />

is called avoda, “work.” It sharpens our sensitivity to the<br />

One we are addressing and helps us feel the same sort of<br />

closeness throughout the day.<br />

Ahava and yira are called “wings.” When we learn to use<br />

our wings, we can fly.<br />

Reprinted with permission from Hamodia.

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