ברוכים הבאים לבר מצוה שלי.
In other words...thank you all for coming to my bar mitzvah.
You may have noticed by now that I'm interested in Japanese culture. I even wanted to wear a kimono while leining but for some reason my parents weren't into it.
I see symbols of Japan everywhere I look. Perhaps it was meant to be that my middle name is Shachar, or dawn, which commemorates how I was born at dawn, and is also reminiscent of Japan, the land of the rising sun.
You may not realize it but there are many things that Japanese and the Jews have in common. For one, they both have a feline national symbol. We of course have the Lion of Judah which adorns our own ark and stained glass windows here at Ramath Orah as well as many arks in other synagogues.
The Japanese have the monokie niko, the lucky cat, symbolizing wealth, happiness, prosperity and business. Japan and Israel comprise the bookend borders of the Asian continent, with Israel at the southwesternmost point in Asia, and Japan to the Northeast.
But perhaps most fundamentally, the value of honor, or kavod, that is so deeply ingrained in both value systems. This value is expressed in both cultures through the custom of removing one's shoes before entering certain areas.
Take my parsha (Torah portion) for example. I started out the parsha reading about Aharon lighting the menora. Try to visualize how glorious he looked while performing this service in the Temple. He was adorned with eight different kinds of the fanciest clothes, including a robe, an apron, a tunic, and a big fluffy hat. These clothes were quite colorful, with royal blue, bright red, and pure white. Every part of him was up and covered. Every part that is, except for his feet.
You would think Hashem (G-d) would have commanded the Kohen Gadol (high priest) to wear shoes of the fanciest kind, in fitting with the rest of his outfit.
But we know from elsewhere in Tanakh that G-d considered it more respectful to remove one's shoes in his presence. When Moshe was at the burning bush he was ordered to do so, as was Joshua in the presence of the angel. Indeed, the rabbis tell us that every Jew was commanded to remove their shoes before entering the Temple mount. The Talmud learns this requirement from the verse in Isaiah, where the prophet scolds the Jewish people, quoting G-d Himself as saying "Who asked this of you that you trample my courtyard?"
Why, you may ask, did G-d find it disrespectful to wear shoes in His presence?
I think we can learn the answer from our Japanese friends. From what I've read in manga, the reason the Japanese insist on shoe removal upon entering a home is because keeping your shoes on shows you're in a hurry to leave, just as keeping your coat on is rude even in our culture. Taking these things off shows kavod, respect, in that you're telling your host "I like it here in your home and I want to stay a while" I think G-d is telling us the same through the prophet Isaiah. Since the Temple Mount is where His presence, or shekhina, rests, the Mount is His home, so to speak. In hebrew we call it "Har Habayit", literally the mountain of G-d's house. Not surprisingly, G-d found it rude to appear as if you were in a rush to leave His home.
So we see there are some shared values between us and our far eastern friends. What accounts for this? If we assume that all spiritual truth originated with Abraham, how did some of this truth find its way to the far east? One theory is based on the narrative found in Genesis 25.
There, it tells us something that is not so well known: that Abraham took another wife named Ketura after Sarah had died, and they had six sons. We don't hear anything about these sons at all except the fact that Abraham "gave them gifts, and sent them eastward to the land of the east", or in Hebrew, he sent them "kedma el eretz kedem. "The rabbis tell us that the Torah does not waste words, so why does it repeat like this, "eastward to the east"?
One interpretation is that Abraham sent them literally to the FAR east, and that the "gifts" he gave them were the spiritual gifts of kaballah.
And so the Zohar says these children carried the spiritual spark of Abraham with them even though they would later forget where this spark came from. Avraham was told by G-d that he would be a "father of many nations" (Av hamon goyim), and we can see that his spiritual legacy lives on in many peoples. This idea, that everyone shares spiritual bonds in common, is a value me and my family have always stressed.
To that end, for my bar mitzvah chesed project, we have chosen to get involved with the Judah Touro Infirmary in New Orleans. Judah Touro's distinction, other than having a great first name, was that he embodied a love of his own Jewish people as well as an awareness of the bond of brotherhood shared by all peoples. He was the son of Isaac Touro, founder of the Touro synagogue in Newport, Rhode Island.
Judah went to New Orleans to make his fortune, and his name is still well known there to this day. He founded the first public library there, as well as the Touro Infirmary, which today is the only hospital in New orleans which accepts patients without health insurance. Their work has been vital following Hurricane Katrina, and they have treated many of its poorest victims who could not otherwise afford care. He also gave to almost every synagogue in America, and gave money to the settlement of Yemin Moshe, the first modern Jewish settlement in Jerusalem outside the old city walls.
A portion of the proceeds from my bar mitzvah gifts will go the the Touro Infirmary. Judah Touro was both a proud Jew and a proud American. He showed that a person can be engaged with different cultures and be passionate about all of them.
I hope to continue to embody this value in my own life, as I continue to explore Japanese, American, and of course my own Jewish heritage.
UPDATE TO VISITORS: Within the next week, Judah will be making a donation to the Touro Infirmary. We hope to be able to reach the level of giving where we will become a Fellow in the Judah Touro Society! More info will be posted on the Touro Infirmary shortly!
You may have noticed by now that I'm interested in Japanese culture. I even wanted to wear a kimono while leining but for some reason my parents weren't into it.
I see symbols of Japan everywhere I look. Perhaps it was meant to be that my middle name is Shachar, or dawn, which commemorates how I was born at dawn, and is also reminiscent of Japan, the land of the rising sun.
You may not realize it but there are many things that Japanese and the Jews have in common. For one, they both have a feline national symbol. We of course have the Lion of Judah which adorns our own ark and stained glass windows here at Ramath Orah as well as many arks in other synagogues.
The Japanese have the monokie niko, the lucky cat, symbolizing wealth, happiness, prosperity and business. Japan and Israel comprise the bookend borders of the Asian continent, with Israel at the southwesternmost point in Asia, and Japan to the Northeast.
But perhaps most fundamentally, the value of honor, or kavod, that is so deeply ingrained in both value systems. This value is expressed in both cultures through the custom of removing one's shoes before entering certain areas.
Take my parsha (Torah portion) for example. I started out the parsha reading about Aharon lighting the menora. Try to visualize how glorious he looked while performing this service in the Temple. He was adorned with eight different kinds of the fanciest clothes, including a robe, an apron, a tunic, and a big fluffy hat. These clothes were quite colorful, with royal blue, bright red, and pure white. Every part of him was up and covered. Every part that is, except for his feet.
You would think Hashem (G-d) would have commanded the Kohen Gadol (high priest) to wear shoes of the fanciest kind, in fitting with the rest of his outfit.
But we know from elsewhere in Tanakh that G-d considered it more respectful to remove one's shoes in his presence. When Moshe was at the burning bush he was ordered to do so, as was Joshua in the presence of the angel. Indeed, the rabbis tell us that every Jew was commanded to remove their shoes before entering the Temple mount. The Talmud learns this requirement from the verse in Isaiah, where the prophet scolds the Jewish people, quoting G-d Himself as saying "Who asked this of you that you trample my courtyard?"
Why, you may ask, did G-d find it disrespectful to wear shoes in His presence?
I think we can learn the answer from our Japanese friends. From what I've read in manga, the reason the Japanese insist on shoe removal upon entering a home is because keeping your shoes on shows you're in a hurry to leave, just as keeping your coat on is rude even in our culture. Taking these things off shows kavod, respect, in that you're telling your host "I like it here in your home and I want to stay a while" I think G-d is telling us the same through the prophet Isaiah. Since the Temple Mount is where His presence, or shekhina, rests, the Mount is His home, so to speak. In hebrew we call it "Har Habayit", literally the mountain of G-d's house. Not surprisingly, G-d found it rude to appear as if you were in a rush to leave His home.
So we see there are some shared values between us and our far eastern friends. What accounts for this? If we assume that all spiritual truth originated with Abraham, how did some of this truth find its way to the far east? One theory is based on the narrative found in Genesis 25.
There, it tells us something that is not so well known: that Abraham took another wife named Ketura after Sarah had died, and they had six sons. We don't hear anything about these sons at all except the fact that Abraham "gave them gifts, and sent them eastward to the land of the east", or in Hebrew, he sent them "kedma el eretz kedem. "The rabbis tell us that the Torah does not waste words, so why does it repeat like this, "eastward to the east"?
One interpretation is that Abraham sent them literally to the FAR east, and that the "gifts" he gave them were the spiritual gifts of kaballah.
And so the Zohar says these children carried the spiritual spark of Abraham with them even though they would later forget where this spark came from. Avraham was told by G-d that he would be a "father of many nations" (Av hamon goyim), and we can see that his spiritual legacy lives on in many peoples. This idea, that everyone shares spiritual bonds in common, is a value me and my family have always stressed.
To that end, for my bar mitzvah chesed project, we have chosen to get involved with the Judah Touro Infirmary in New Orleans. Judah Touro's distinction, other than having a great first name, was that he embodied a love of his own Jewish people as well as an awareness of the bond of brotherhood shared by all peoples. He was the son of Isaac Touro, founder of the Touro synagogue in Newport, Rhode Island.
Judah went to New Orleans to make his fortune, and his name is still well known there to this day. He founded the first public library there, as well as the Touro Infirmary, which today is the only hospital in New orleans which accepts patients without health insurance. Their work has been vital following Hurricane Katrina, and they have treated many of its poorest victims who could not otherwise afford care. He also gave to almost every synagogue in America, and gave money to the settlement of Yemin Moshe, the first modern Jewish settlement in Jerusalem outside the old city walls.
A portion of the proceeds from my bar mitzvah gifts will go the the Touro Infirmary. Judah Touro was both a proud Jew and a proud American. He showed that a person can be engaged with different cultures and be passionate about all of them.
I hope to continue to embody this value in my own life, as I continue to explore Japanese, American, and of course my own Jewish heritage.
UPDATE TO VISITORS: Within the next week, Judah will be making a donation to the Touro Infirmary. We hope to be able to reach the level of giving where we will become a Fellow in the Judah Touro Society! More info will be posted on the Touro Infirmary shortly!