Project Genesis, Leaders in Online Jewish Learning

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What better time to ponder the spring season than the end of January! As I softly cup my hands around a steaming cup of hot chocolate, I can picture the red budding leaves forming on dormant tree limbs, and the fresh, green daffodil foliage peeking through the soil. When my mind paints this annual display of G-d’s wonders, it kindles the feeling of His ever-presence.

However, the glorious and miraculous can draw attention from the small wonders. If we were to witness a nation’s water transformed to blood, three days and nights of paralyzing darkness, and the splitting of a sea we could mistakenly think that G-d’s might is present, but not ever-present. We can witness an obvious miracle, but live most of life forgetting there’s a G-d.

For this reason, Passover, which commemorates the leaving of Egypt, must be celebrated in the spring, just as the Exodus itself took place during that season. On the morning after hearing the detailed account of the open miracles of the Exodus around a Seder table, a little boy or girl can walk outside and witness the exodus of daffodils from frozen soil or leaf buds from dead limbs. Mentally fusing the two events, the Passover lessons can then penetrate their souls and prepare them for a lifetime of constant exodus from challenging trials to the comforting, and empowering, recognition of His ever-presence. (Based on Rav Shimon Schwab zt”l)

Good Shabbos!
Rabbi Mordechai Dixler
Program Director, Project Genesis – Torah.org

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After the impact of six plagues, Pharoah had no choice. He would have had to give up. The commentaries (Ramban and Seforno) say that when G-d told Moshe that “I will harden Pharaoh’s heart, and I will increase my signs in my wonders in the land of Egypt” [7:3], He was restoring Pharoah’s free will, Pharoah’s ability to choose to deny the obvious.

Just a few weeks ago, Jerry Coyne, an evolutionary biologist at the University of Chicago, wrote in USA Today that “there is no freedom of choice, no free will. And those New Year’s resolutions you made? You had no choice about making them, and you’ll have no choice about whether you keep them.” [Credit to Rabbi Avi Shafran for pointing out this article, in Ami Magazine.]

I pointed out that Coyne is an evolutionary biologist, because it is relevant to the conclusions he has reached. If one believes that our brains are nothing more than a collection of molecules in a “meat computer” (his words), then it is inevitable that the operations performed by that brain are not something we can control. As Coyne writes, “true ‘free will,’ then, would require us to somehow step outside of our brain’s structure and modify how it works.”

He then immediately proceeds to describe several corollaries of his conclusion. He discusses how this ought to change the criminal justice system, in that a “regular” criminal is really no more responsible than those found not guilty by reason of insanity. But even before he gets there, the very first conclusion he reaches is that religion makes no sense, primarily because it teaches the idea of reward and punishment. Since we don’t have free will, it makes no sense to imagine that someone would be punished for evil behavior.

This, of course, is circular reasoning. Coyne begins from the assumption that there is no afterlife, and uses this to “conclude” that the idea of reward and punishment in that afterlife makes no sense. The Torah teaches that G-d enables us to choose, to give us free will, even though it may not make sense “naturally.”

The philosophical challenge — how we can “control” our brains when there is no natural method for doing so — is not foreign to Judaism. The Torah does teach that our choices are predetermined, in that G-d, being above time, already knows what choices we will make. He knows all of human history from beginning to end, and how each of our choices did, do, and will fit into His master plan for the world.

That is the same conundrum, but it cannot be used to exempt ourselves from responsibility for our actions. On the contrary, we recognize that we were granted free will, even if, with our limited capacity, we don’t understand precisely how that is possible. The Torah requires that we make the effort to improve ourselves, rather than pretend that our actions are beyond our control.

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“Now I’m motivated. I’m going to make this happen.” Those are the sweet words that kick-off the path to progress. As human beings we have aspirations to grow, to build, to make a mark. What sparks the transition from stagnation to production?

While Moses was grazing sheep he noticed a bush, burning. Amazed that the bush continued to burn without being consumed by the flames, he stopped in his tracks to investigate. “G-d saw that [Moses] turned to see and G-d called to him from the bush” (Ex. 3:4). G-d understood that the first few steps Moses took were indicative of his general approach; one who’s prepared to change his course towards progress, the crucial characteristic of an effective leader.

We aspire to produce and grow, and G-d often extends His hand, as it were, to inspire us to move forward. He’ll send messages if we’re prepared to notice them, but it’s up to us to supply one basic ingredient: the few deliberate steps towards the goal. Once we take those steps, G-d provides the strength to produce — “Create an opening for Me the size of a needle’s eye, and I’ll create an opening for you the size of a great hall’s entrance” (Michtav M’Eliyahu 4:276, ShHSh”R 5:2)

When the ball is in our court, are we going to run with it?

Good Shabbos,
Rabbi Mordechai Dixler

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The blessing Jacob gives Judah concludes with the words: “his eyes will redden from wine, and his teeth white from milk.” Rabbi Yochanan says homiletically (Kesubos 111b) that you can read it as “teeth whiter than milk” — to give a smile to a friend is even greater than giving him nourishment.

When someone comes collecting charity, it is a difficult and often thankless job. Rejection can break a person’s spirits and keep him or her from continuing, no matter how important the cause. So, as it happens, a smile may be one of the most important things you can give — you can brighten that person’s spirits and enable him or her to persevere.

Closer to home, there is no one who doesn’t have a “hard day” now and then. There are great people who have tremendous internal reserves of happiness, so that no matter what, it seems like they are always happy. Even people like that need an encouraging word now and then — much less the rest of us, who sometimes just want to crawl back into bed and start over tomorrow, if not next week!

To be generous of spirit is at least as important as being generous with money — and when it comes to smiles, the more you give, the more you have!

Good Shabbos,

Rabbi Yaakov Menken