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Areivim: Jewish Consciousness


Jewish consciousness is a difficult concept to describe. It’s even more difficult to present to others as being an integral part of living a successful frum life. Jewish consciousness is a concept you either “get” or you don’t. Yet, Jewish consciousness is essential in defining ourselves, to ourselves.

Without identifying ourselves as a Frum individual, and not just a peon that does frum things, a person will find it difficult at best to sustain a true Frum lifestyle. First he will slacken slightly in his performance and then the pace will increase, until he will have become far removed from what he once was. His children and grandchildren won’t even appreciate that, years before, he eleived his household would be a more religious one. He will look at his children, grandchildren and himself and see someone different than what, years back, he thought he’d see.

What is Jewish consciousness? Jewish consciousness appreciates that living a Torah life incorporates more than a set of Halochos. It is about living a lifestyle that is handed down to us within the words the Torah and given more detail by our Chachomim. It appreciates that intangible and delicate concepts do matter.

For instance, how important is it to have a set Shul to attend and, within that Shul a set place to Daven in? How important is it to appreciate a Shabbos meal? How important is it to wear shoes while making Kiddush Friday night?

None of these examples, when discussed separately, matter much. I can give many examples of strongly committed people who don’t follow some of these issues (except for making Kiddush without his shoes on) yet, each one highlights a lack of value given to a Frum lifestyle. Each example, and there are hundreds of them, matter little. Collectively, when accumulated within one person or family, begins to truly define the person’s commitment, or lack of commitment to a Torah lifestyle.

The perfect analogy may be that Mitzvohs create the rings of a chain. It’s these small rings, the Jewish consciousness, that bridge the pieces together. Separate rings can’t hold anyone or anything together. Connected, they can.

Think of the avid skier. Anything he sees reminds him of his hobby. At the same time he will jump at any opportunity to talk about it, watch others skiing or go skiing himself. Is there a connection between a person’s obsession to a sport and a desire to play it every opportunity? Speaking of the inverse, is there a connection between a partial interest in a sport and turning down opportunities to become involved? I can’t explain exactly why, but the connection is definitely there.

I often speak about hollow people. They seem to be doing fine but, inside them, there’s nothing there. How long can a person perform acts that, in his mind, it offers him little in return? As in sports, without the emotional connection, the person will, consciously or unconsciously, give up many opportunities to perform Mitzvohs and other Jewish activities until, after years he will find himself, as people tend to do, having given up their hobbies.

We are not discussing hobbies but something that’s more important, a Torah lifestyle. It’s a part of who he is; his Jewish consciousness. Becoming alienated from one’s own Jewish consciousness breeds resentment towards others that feel connected. This, in turn further alienates people from a frum lifestyle.

What is, and isn’t, considered having a strong Jewish consciousness is difficult to discuss. Two people can have a coin collection. One person has hundreds of thousands of dollars worth of coins, the other barely has a few hundred dollars of inventory. They may be equally involved in their hobby. The difference s that one collector is wealthy, the other isn’t.

A person can dress in a colored shirt on Shabbos and be heavily involved in Shabbos. His involvement, when considering his background and his present excitement for Shabbos, is an intense one. It can be assumed that his children’s involvement with Shabbos will be equal or greater than his. A Frum person who dresses “the part” and attends a long drawn out davening but sleeps and reads newspapers all Shabbos afternoon can’t be considered to be involved with Shabbos. How long will it take before his lack of passion will affect his Shabbos activities?

What can a person do if he finds himself missing some feelings towards Yiddishkeit? It’s difficult to adjust an attitude by prescribing robotic behaviors. I have two thoughts to suggest to the person who would like to increase his Jewish conciousness:

The first thought is to simplify one’s life. We are constantly running towards things we would like to do, with the belief that we “need” to do it. We rush through davening because we need to go online. We rush through buying a Lulov because we need to get home to talk to someone. Everything we do is left meaningless because we are looking towards the next step in our schedule.

The second thought is to surround ourselves with people who have an appreciation for a Torah lifestyle. Passion is contagious. Passion doesn’t necessarily mean an extreme zealousness. It can mean commitment and an appreciation towards the Frum lifestyle.

I would like to conclude with a personal insight. I sometimes find myself in a Carlbach style Minyon. There is almost always a broad range of people davening there. Those looking in may be critical of what they see. Some are wearing jackets, some only shirts. A lot of people are walking around, some singing a little too loud. Many of them aren’t able to sit in one place for too long. To many people, such a davening isn’t something they’re comfortable with. They may even look down at those Davening in such a Minyon.

But you should look a little closer at each of those people. Those participating care deeply about what they’re doing and their entire heart is into that Davening. They walk out feeling moved. Those experiencing a warm Davening find that they Daven better the next few times.

Passion can often come in atypical environments. For adults it may mean davening with an English translation Siddur, something most Yeshiva people would never consider doing. It may mean inviting ourselves to another person’s Shabbos table just to see how others enjoy it. Each person should know what will work for them. What they should realize though is that they may be missing something in their lives and what their missing is something they can’t really live without

There are two more aspects of Jewish consciousness worth discussing. The first one came to my attention while I was talking to some of my students. Midway through our conversation it became obvious to me that they didn’t know whether the story of Purim took place before or after the story of Chanukah. Some of them didn’t know that Yocheved and Miriam were related, and how they were related.

Which American doesn’t know the story of little red riding hood? How about the story of George Washington chopping down a cherry tree? Part of being an American requires knowing both the significant and trivial parts of its heritage. Part of being in the Torah community requires one to also know its heritage.

To illustrate this point, consider what happens when one has a causal encounter with a group of individuals. They begin discussing a topic that’s of interest to them and of which they’re quite knowledgeable. However, you have little interest or knowledge of that topic and find yourself left out, unable to contribute to the discussion.

During the early part of the conversation you may have tried to contribute, even if it was only to avoid feeling left out. After a few minutes it became obvious to you that you couldn’t say anything intelligent. You became lost and felt as if no one even noticed you. Your only option was to slowly distance yourself from the group.

Without a broad base of Jewish knowledge, which comes from a healthy mixture of Chumash, Navi, Halacha, and Midrash, Jewish individuals also feel left out of Judaism. They don’t know when to dress in a certain way, what or how to Daven and, on specific days, what to say when they greet others. They feel the need to distance themselves from those that that are comfortable with Yiddishkeit. Eventually they’ll have distanced themselves from anything having to do with a Torah lifestyle.

The second one is a more “advanced” part of Jewish consciousness. By advanced I mean that it’s a thought that will be appreciated by those looking to “grow”, and rejected as “extreme” by those who are stagnant, in their Torah lifestyle. Consider the following two stories:

The first is about a man who was coming home early from Shul, on Shabbos morning, after Davening at a V’sikin Minyan (where Shemona Esrai is said at sunrise). As he passed a neighbor who was just going to Shul, the neighbor asked him from where he was coming. The man responded that he had already finished Davening. The neighbor said in jest, Hashem Yishmeraynu. (Hashem should protect us from such doings). The joke was that it’s terrible to wake up at 5:00 on a Shabbos morning, despite the wonderful things that can be achieved by Davening at a V’sikin Minyan.

The second is about a family whose boys attended a very Frum Yeshiva while their girls attended a very modern school. When the parent mentioned this to a friend, the friend responded “oh, you must be one of the Al Pi Darko people”. (Al Pi Darko refers to the Posuk that instructs parents to “raise” their children based on each child’s individual strengths and weaknesses.) Most parents attempt to mold their children into their own personal vision of perfection. In my friend’s mind, Al Pi Darko was a great conversation topic, but not something people actually applied in their lives.

Jewish consciousness is more than an appreciation for the value of enveloping ourselves in a Torah based environment. It requires us to appreciate the fact that when the Torah tells us to do, or not do, something, the Torah is telling us that it’s in our best intrests to follow that advice.

Many of us live a life of Torah up to a point of discomfort. When I meet with parents, they often begin by describing the problem that brought them to my office. They give me an overview of their family and their family’s approach to life. They often introduce their overview by telling me that “we are Chasidish / Litvish people, the normal type, not too modern and not too extreme.

I then challenge them on this description. What does normal mean? Is everything that they’re not comfortable in doing defined as “to extreme”? Do the Mitzvohs and practices that they’re comfortable with, define those that don’t do them as being “too modern”?

True Jewish consciousness requires us to work backwards. We shouldn’t decide our standards based on what makes us personally, socially or financially comfortable. Instead we should listen to what we’re being told is healthy for us, and apply it to our personal lives.

I’m not saying that anyone less than perfect is unacceptable. We all have Nisyonos (personal tests) and challenges. What I’m suggesting is that our thoughts and speech should be consistent with this Jewish consciousness. We shouldn’t “talk down” to those who’ve undertaken something admirable simply because it’s something that we can’t imagine doing ourselves. Whether we’re discussing early Shacharis Minyanim or the extent of Chasidish / Litvish behavior, the definition of what is normal should be based on what the Torah says is the perfect behavior, and not what makes us comfortable with our present level of Mitzvoh performance.

Our speech also effects our actions. Human nature is fascinating. We say what we think, but once we say it, it becomes, in our minds, truer than when we only thought about it. When we refer to ourselves as normal, we become calmer and feel better about ourselves. Our realization of the fact that we’re not doing as much as we should, causes internal changes within us. Articulating what we should be doing creates a level of discomfort within us. By doing the opposite, by saying things that make us comfortable, we become normal in our own eyes. Instead of focusing on how we should feel about ourselves, we limit our natural inclination to change.

A part of Jewish consciousness is keeping in touch with how we should think and, therefore, what our goals should be. We can’t do that if we insist on thinking only comfortable thoughts. Comfort and growth don’t often co-exist well.

I found myself stuck in my car during the last blizzard. There were five other vehicles in front of me: cars, trucks and even snow plows, all trying to get out of a snow bank. It was past midnight, but there were still several men and women of all ages outside of their homes observing us. Many stayed outside in the blustery wind for more than two hours. They were talking to each other, the stranded drivers, and to those who responded to the numerous calls for help. I found it fascinating that the “parking lot” of cars would hold such a spellbound and loyal audience. The group of onlookers was animated and lively. They really seemed to be enjoying themselves.

 It reminded me of something I read with regard to adults and teenagers who play video games. Adults can sit in front of a video game or computer for hours. They’ll speak proudly of their achievements and the time that they’ve invested in order to reach the video or computer milestones that they set for themselves. They’ll tell this to all types of people, unaware that many of them may be shaking their heads at their investment of time and money for such seemingly unimportant things in their lives.

 I don’t believe that people should be robots, and not waste a second of their lives. I also appreciate that trivia and atypical incidents are interesting to many people. Those people who were talking outside of their homes during the snow storm may have done it as a “break” from their otherwise busy and productive life. Everyone needs to “get away’ once in a while. This article focuses on those people who spend large amounts of time on “nothingness”.

 I’ve included this subject in the Jewish Consciousness series because it’s the secular world that promotes people’s right to do what they want, without being accountable to others or themselves. Today’s society promotes the belief that people should do what they want and not do what they don’t want. People who want to spend their days playing video games should be allowed to. People’s rights are inalienable, even when they conflict with their responsibilities towards their spouses, children and jobs.

Jewish thought strongly disagrees with this philosophy and promotes the concept that people are supposed to do more than what they need for themselves. They have a moral obligation to do as much as they’re able to help themselves, others, and the entire world.

 Before I offer my insight into this subject I’d like to offer the following introduction. I often discuss self improvement and helping others improve. People need to have two separate standards for judging, one for themselves, and one for others.

 When judging themselves they should be demanding and even slightly critical. When judging others, they should be patient and understanding. When trying to change others it must be done with a feeling of empathy and not impatience. I’m constantly reminding people that when they attempt to change others they must be goal oriented. Their purpose should be to make the other people better, and not to make themselves feel good.

 Let’ return to my happy, but cold, friends of a few nights ago. People have different things that interest them and its these interests that define who they are. For instance, people who constantly help others demonstrate the trait of kindness.

However, wanting to help others may also indicate that the helpers have poor self images. Helping others may be rooted in a need to be appreciated, a selfless act motivated by selfish needs. Nevertheless, observing people who constantly do acts of kindness, even if they’re motivated by selfish reasons, still indicate that they’re kind people. People in need of being appreciated can do many things. Kind people who feel a need to be appreciated do kind things; unkind people do unkind things.

 Some people’s interests highlight intelligence, others an absence of intelligence. Most people whose interests demonstrate a lack of intelligence or depth, have never been exposed to the beauty of a life with meaning. There are many “tastes” that must be cultivated to be appreciated. One may question as to why a person should attempt to cultivate an appreciation for an expensive wine or beautiful furniture, but there are “tastes” that are important for healthy living and are worth cultivating.

 There are different categories of interests and each one corresponds to a different level of pleasure. The first and lowest level is the pleasure of fun. Fun, in my mind, is highly overrated. It’s something for which children, teenagers and some adults feel a strong need. They aren’t satisfied with the enjoyment that comes from reading a good book, or the accomplishment that comes from helping others.

 The problem with the fun form of pleasure is that it wears off quickly. Being superficial, it doesn’t internalize within the person and creates only a short lived pleasure which disappears when the fun is over. Just as water slips from an oiled object leaving little or no residual effect, fun leaves little or not effect. Since the effect is short lived, the person must continue to look for more fun, more intense excitement, and constant stimuli.

 The second level of pleasure is the arts. This is something that’s more spiritual and more individualistic to man. (Have you ever seen a moose staring at a sunset or listening to a beautiful song?) The pleasure of the arts has a certain comfort to it. Although intangible, the arts are deeply appreciated by people. These first two levels of pleasure have one thing in common. The people who’re the recipients of the pleasures don’t contribute to them. They’re passive and not active.

 The third level of pleasure is the feeling of accomplishment. People can do very mundane and boring chores, but when they’ve completed them, they feel a sense of accomplishment. They may have even tried to “get out” of doing them, but once completed, they stand back and admire their work. They’ve created something. It may be a neat room or a tasty supper. If they helped others, they may have created within the others the ability to do something that they weren’t able to do previously.

 The fourth level of pleasure also has to do with the feeling of accomplishment, but on a higher level. It’s reserved for accomplishments that focus on the purpose of our being in this world. One can easily understand that people will feel greater pleasure in finding a cure for cancer than from cleaning a garage. The magnitude of the work, how many people have been helped, and the manner in which they were helped, separates this level from the previous ones.

People can cultivate within themselves and their children an interest in higher levels of pleasures. This is an easier goal with young children than with adults. Children, who see their parents as being conscious of time, Chesed, and goal oriented, will naturally feel that those traits are positive ones to emulate. Children whose parents highlight that “things matter” and that “things make a difference”, will learn that people are allowed to have fun but, like everything else, fun has its time and place. Adults also can gain an interest in higher levels of pleasure by surrounding themselves with people who are goal oriented and thereby acquire a taste for a life dedicated to accomplishing.

Rabbi Shmuel Gluck is director of Areivim, www.areivim.com, a teen crisis intervention center. R. Gluck’s articles are widely published in the Torah Chinuch world. For previous articles or for speaking engagements you can contact R. Gluck at Areivim: www.areivim.com 845-371-2760 E-mail: [email protected].

(Rabbi Shmuel Gluck – YWN)



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