A bow and arrow. The first weapon capable of non-hand-to-hand combat.
This Thursday is a lesser-known Jewish holiday; Lag B'omer. The day on which the great sage, kabbalist, and author of the Zohar (a chief kabbalistic text), Rabbi Shimon bar Yochai (Rashbi for short) passed away.
It is said that due to his piety, a rainbow never appeared during his lifetime. Gorgeous as they may be, Instagram worthy vibrant colors that last but a magical few moments, the rainbow has some less than idyllic symbolism. After the Great Flood, Hashem promised Noah that he would never again destroy everything. The rainbow would be the symbol, a reminder of this promise.
Thanks to Rashbi's influence on his generation, there was never any spiritual displeasure, and thus, never a need for a rainbow. So on the day tha
t we celebrate his lifetime and achievements, the kids play with a bow (get it?) and arrow.
Kabbalah is the inner dimension of the Torah, the secret or less than obvious aspects, the deeper levels. Naturally, there must be some deep significance to the bow and arrow.
As we navigate life there are two kinds of challenges we face. Obvious ones, such as my car running out of gas, have very direct solutions; go to your nearest gas station. In fact, life is a continuous series of these hand-to-hand sword combat style situations. The pantry is depleted, laundry needs to be washed, daughter needs to go to a ballet lesson, cell phone bill needs to be paid. And like little ninjas we navigate the maze of obstacles, knocking out as many opponents as we can.
However, there is another genre of challenges; the hidden ones. These lie in ambush, hiding behind a wall, pelting you with their munitions. These challengers, behind their screen of uncertainty, leave you with no direct solutions. As they say, it's complicated. Hence the bow and arrow, a form of attack that can arch its way and take out the lurking issue.
With a bow and arrow, one first needs to pull back towards oneself, propelling the arrow to otherwise unreachable targets. When faced with a daunting dilemma, with an unclear way forward, the bow and arrow teaches us, pull back - retreat into your heart, soul, and essence, gathering that powerful divine energy from within, and empowering us to tackle any adversary.
Come shoot a bow and arrow at Thursday's Family BBQ at Leghorn Park, along with field games by Kinder Kickz!
Also, next Friday evening is a community Shabbat dinner at the new Chabad center. Hope you can join us!
From the Rabbi's Desk
Bow & Arrow
Stick & Stones
So what's the scoop?
In today's world of tabloid magazines and sensational headlines, it's a race to the press room. With a gazillion different social media platforms, we forget about the person on the other end of
"social". When clicking that "share" button, it's not always about a positive contribution to our friends.
Usually, we don't even notice. Immersed in a culture of gossip, it has simply become a way of life. We spend more time focusing on others' shortcomings than on their (and our own) progress.
Up through the times of the Holy Temple, there was a gentle reminder from Above that words matter. One who engaged in gossip would be afflicted with a supernatural skin condition. To clarify, this was not an illness due to physical health issues or bacteria. So to heal it, the individual would first be diagnosed by a Kohen, and then follow a process that included isolation outside of the Jewish camp. This would give them the opportunity to reflect on and heal their spiritual self.
While we no longer have this condition (known as Tzara'at), the message remains. Unlike the classic "Sticks and stones may break my bones", the Talmud teaches us: Gossip hurts three; the one who talks; the one who listens, and the one about whom it is spoken. In a sense, the damage from a callous insult can last longer than mere action.
On the flip side, let's use this to inspire us to compliment, to speak sensitively, to congratulate accomplishments and to uplift one another.
Let It Shine
Hmm, I didn't have too much time to write, as we just got back from representing Camp Aleph at a camp fair (early bird end on the 18th - check out the superhero camp calendar below!). 
But there's definitely lots going on; The Kabbalah and Coffeebeginning on Sunday, the Holocaust Survivor Cookbookauthor coming on Tuesday and Cinco de Mayo Shabbatdinner on May 4th.
However, let's focus on something special that is happening every day: The counting of the Omer. For the 49 days from the exodus up until the giving of the Torah at Sinai, the Jews counted in anticipation. As we relive that experience in our own lives and leave our own slavery and challenges behind, we too count the days (or nights rather).
The Hebrew word for counting is Sefirah or the verb lispor. A very similar word is Sapir - a gem (sapphire). We don't just randomly count days, we've got google calendar and Siri reminders for that. What we do is illuminate them, we make them shine.
This is the best preparation for receiving the Torah. Taking the dull and mundane and infusing it with vitality and radiance.
Miracles How To
Moses? Check.
Pharaoh? Check.
Aaron the high priest? Miriam the prophetess? Check, check.
Nachson ben Aminadav? Say who?
Who is this (relatively) unknown figure?
The seventh day of Passover is when the splitting of the sea occurred. Imagine the chaos as hundreds of thousands of just-released slaves turn around to see Egyptian chariots chasing them down. With the red sea in front of them and the seemingly certain return to slavery behind them, no one quite knew what to do, and there were ma
ny varied responses (see my previous blog post) They needed a miracle. But how do you evoke a miracle? There's no instruction manual for miracle stimulation.
Well, from amongst the throngs, emerged one soon-to-be hero; Nachshon. The dire circumstance didn't phase him, the hysteria didn't shake him. He was laser-focused on the task at hand. Hashem had instructed them to travel, and come fire (Egyptian arrows) or come water (the Red Sea), nothing would derail him.
And so he stepped into the water and continued walking. Knees followed ankles, chest, and shoulders quickly proceeded. When it got to his nostrils, that is when the iconic miracle transpired. The waters split, allowing the fledgling Jewish nation to pass through on dry land.
The message to us is that miracles - the ability to overcome daunting obstacles - are inspired by action. Almost as if Hashem is saying, "you do your part, and I will do mine".
The Talmud relates a story of an impoverished sage who wanted to bring something special to the Holy Temple but could not afford to. One day, Rabbi Chanina ben Dosa spotted the most beautiful boulder and decided that it would make the perfect gift. As it was extremely heavy, he tried to flag down a group of passersby to help him transport it. After multiple failed attempts, a group of angels disguised as people appeared. They agreed with one stipulation; he must help them by placing his little finger on the rock. In an instant, they were in Jerusalem.
Why the need for his finger? Because for miracles to happen, we need to tickle them awake. "You do your part, and I will do mine".