Seidemann: Another year, come and gone

Well, it’s been a year now since we last prayed for a year of peace, prosperity and blessing. And by all measures, it has been a most difficult and troubling year. The forces of good are still doing battle with the forces of evil and no end is in sight. The economy has not improved yet; Jewish institutions are hurting and families are struggling to survive on many fronts.

As 5770 approaches, I feel frustrated about battles I thought I had won on a personal level; battles this nation has fought; battles Israel has wrestled with for years — I thought all of that was behind us, but they still exist.

Frustrated that Israel still has to defend its right to exist and that we still must combat the myth that “we” stole “their” land, that we are terrorizing them, that we are practicing apartheid. Concerned that most Jewish high school students probably do not possess the information and/or desire to set the world straight.

Worried that morality is being redefined.

Dejected that as the Jewish year 5669 draws to an end, there seems no let up from tragedy. Just the other morning there was a Torah dedication ceremony in a town near here to commemorate the life of a mother of six who passed away at the age of 45 from cancer. The very same town is still reeling from the passing of a 13-year-old girl who just didn’t wake up this past Friday morning. It goes on and on and on.

Financial ruin for many while others, who still have money “party on” as if nothing has happened. Where is the modesty, the humility, which used to be the hallmark of the Jew? Since last Rosh Hashanah, when we intoned Unesaneh Tokef, the haunting “who shall live and who shall die” prayer, I know of people that have suffered through every one of the afflictions set forth therein.

I know of those who passed before their time. I know of those who drowned, if not in water, then in emotion. I know of families that suffered serious fires, and those that felt the piercing pain of a sword — a surgeon’s blade. You and I both know of those who are hungry and thirsty here in our own backyard; “Mi Bachenek”— people who have choked, and  “Mi Baskeela” — kids from our neighborhood who get “stoned” on a regular basis.

“U’mi Yetareif” — I know families that no longer live together in harmony, and families that have been literally Yetareif, torn apart. Continue reading the Unesaneh Tokef — not the Hebrew, but the English. I know that we all know — still know — those who have become impoverished and those who have been degraded, either through their own less-than-honest deeds, or by being shunned by a social circle because they no longer can afford to “keep up.”

So with all of this misery, with more questions than answers, with a year of prayer and practice behind us, why go on? Why not give up? Why? Because for all the bad I’ve seen, I’ve seen the good as well. Yes, I’ve heard of a drowning, but I’ve seen more babies emerge from the waters of their mother’s womb. Finding the good, finding the blessing, is more difficult than finding the bad but it can be found.

And if your neighbor is in pain and you don’t have the magic to change his fate than at least, at the very least, join him in his pain. That, too, is a blessing as the following story reveals.

The couple had been engaged for a few weeks when a problem in the girl’s past was revealed. The problem was of a nature that the upcoming marriage was rendered prohibited by Jewish law. They sought out one rabbi after another. Each time the p’sak, the ruling, was the same. It would be forbidden for these two Jews to marry one another.

Finally, they were able to meet with Rav Shlomo Zalman Auerbach. He heard their story, asked a few questions and wrung his hands. The ruling was the same. Exasperated, they cried out to Rav Shlomo Zalman, “Isn’t there anything you can do for us?” “Yes,” said Rav Shlomo Zalman, “I can cry with you.” And so they did, the three of them, for close to half an hour.

Within days a previously unknown document surfaced from the young lady’s home country that put to rest any questions about her pedigree. The couple was married a few days later.

Cause and effect? Believers will say yes, cynics will say coincidence. Irrelevant, I say. The happy ending was not the point of the story. And if you thought it was, like I did the first time I heard it, you need to hear the story again.

A single individual may not possess enough of his own tears to be inscribed in the book of life for 5770. But when we add our tears to our neighbor’s tears, I think G-d has no choice but to cry as well and lift His pen and inscribe all of us in the book of all that is good.

David Seidemann is a partner with the law firm of Seidemann & Mermelstein.  He can be reached at (718) 692-1013 and at ds@lawofficesm.com.

By David Seidemann

Well, it’s been a year now since we last prayed for a year of peace, prosperity and blessing. And by all measures, it has been a most difficult and troubling year. The forces of good are still doing battle with the forces of evil and no end is in sight. The economy has not improved yet; Jewish institutions are hurting and families are struggling to survive on many fronts.

As 5770 approaches, I feel frustrated about battles I thought I had won on a personal level; battles this nation has fought; battles Israel has wrestled with for years — I thought all of that was behind us, but they still exist.

Frustrated that Israel still has to defend its right to exist and that we still must combat the myth that “we” stole “their” land, that we are terrorizing them, that we are practicing apartheid. Concerned that most Jewish high school students probably do not possess the information and/or desire to set the world straight.

Worried that morality is being redefined.

Dejected that as the Jewish year 5669 draws to an end, there seems no let up from tragedy. Just the other morning there was a Torah dedication ceremony in a town near here to commemorate the life of a mother of six who passed away at the age of 45 from cancer. The very same town is still reeling from the passing of a 13-year-old girl who just didn’t wake up this past Friday morning. It goes on and on and on.

Financial ruin for many while others, who still have money “party on” as if nothing has happened. Where is the modesty, the humility, which used to be the hallmark of the Jew? Since last Rosh Hashanah, when we intoned Unesaneh Tokef, the haunting “who shall live and who shall die” prayer, I know of people that have suffered through every one of the afflictions set forth therein.

I know of those who passed before their time. I know of those who drowned, if not in water, then in emotion. I know of families that suffered serious fires, and those that felt the piercing pain of a sword — a surgeon’s blade. You and I both know of those who are hungry and thirsty here in our own backyard; “Mi Bachenek”— people who have choked, and  “Mi Baskeela” — kids from our neighborhood who get “stoned” on a regular basis.

“U’mi Yetareif” — I know families that no longer live together in harmony, and families that have been literally Yetareif, torn apart. Continue reading the Unesaneh Tokef — not the Hebrew, but the English. I know that we all know — still know — those who have become impoverished and those who have been degraded, either through their own less-than-honest deeds, or by being shunned by a social circle because they no longer can afford to “keep up.”

So with all of this misery, with more questions than answers, with a year of prayer and practice behind us, why go on? Why not give up? Why? Because for all the bad I’ve seen, I’ve seen the good as well. Yes, I’ve heard of a drowning, but I’ve seen more babies emerge from the waters of their mother’s womb. Finding the good, finding the blessing, is more difficult than finding the bad but it can be found.

And if your neighbor is in pain and you don’t have the magic to change his fate than at least, at the very least, join him in his pain. That, too, is a blessing as the following story reveals.

The couple had been engaged for a few weeks when a problem in the girl’s past was revealed. The problem was of a nature that the upcoming marriage was rendered prohibited by Jewish law. They sought out one rabbi after another. Each time the p’sak, the ruling, was the same. It would be forbidden for these two Jews to marry one another.

Finally, they were able to meet with Rav Shlomo Zalman Auerbach. He heard their story, asked a few questions and wrung his hands. The ruling was the same. Exasperated, they cried out to Rav Shlomo Zalman, “Isn’t there anything you can do for us?” “Yes,” said Rav Shlomo Zalman, “I can cry with you.” And so they did, the three of them, for close to half an hour.

Within days a previously unknown document surfaced from the young lady’s home country that put to rest any questions about her pedigree. The couple was married a few days later.

Cause and effect? Believers will say yes, cynics will say coincidence. Irrelevant, I say. The happy ending was not the point of the story. And if you thought it was, like I did the first time I heard it, you need to hear the story again.

A single individual may not possess enough of his own tears to be inscribed in the book of life for 5770. But when we add our tears to our neighbor’s tears, I think G-d has no choice but to cry as well and lift His pen and inscribe all of us in the book of all that is good.