Ki Tavo- The Evil That Men Do and Divine Retribution

V’nish’artem bimtei m’at tachat asher hayitem k’khokhvei hashamayim larov ki lo shama’ta bkol Hashem Eh-lohecha.

And you will be left few in number whereas you were like the many stars of the heavens since you did not heed the voice of Hashem your God.

The text of the Torah speaks in glorious terms.  Blessings and curses are absolute.  Because of this, throughout our history tragedy has often been taken as a divine sign instead of the evil that men do.

Following the Holocaust, many Jews had one of two reactions.  Some lost their belief in God.  After all, how could God allow such a horror to be perpetrated?  Others moved in the opposite direction.  As Jews of ancient times, they saw the destruction of such a large percentage of Jews as a sign these curses had come to pass.  They reacted by turning inward, attempting to increase their piety, and cutting themselves off from the rest of the world.  Both groups continue to have an effect on our people today.  They are the two extremes, and interestingly, they often come full circle to connect with each other. 

Using the traditional terms of left and right, on the left we have the secular world of Jews.  These are the Jews who embrace only the social action aspects of Judaism, rejecting God and religious tradition.  These are the Jews who, in the name of “doing right,” too often lose their way, and find themselves standing with the enemies of Jews and Israel.  On the right are the haredim.  These groups move ever rightward in an attempt to “heed the voice of God.”  In their extremes, such as the Neturei Karta, they have aligned themselves with those who would propagate another Holocaust in order to protect Judaism from Jews.  In both cases the circle comes together with Jews situating themselves with their own enemies.

Interestingly, the beginning of the verse speaks to us in the plural, “and you (plural) will be left few in number whereas you (plural) were like the many stars of the heavens.”  The end of the verse is in the singular, “since you (singular) did not heed the voice of Hashem your God.”  Throughout the Torah we are told to care for others, especially within our own community.  We are reminded that we came out of Egypt a mixed multitude, and we are commanded to follow God’s mitzvot.  We are also taught not to add or take away from these mitzvot.  When we, as individuals (singular), act in ways contrary to this, we, as a community, suffer. 

The evil that men do is not a sign of divine retribution, but it should serve as a reminder to build our community, to strengthen it, and to support it, and with a strong Jewry and a strong Israel we can stand together to be the or lagoyim, the light to the nations, that we were called to be.

Swiss Cheese

There was a time in my life when I could stay up for days on end without any ill effect.  I am now old.  I have lacked a few hours of sleep over the past week, and my mind is now swiss cheese.  I cannot count the typing errors I have made in these few sentences, and I cannot remember the names of people I've known for years.

Oh well, sleep is for the weak.

By the way the person's name is Lisa.

Yes, I Speak English Very Goodly

Sean recently posted The Final Insult.  It is about the ups and downs of our trying to become official permanent residents of Canada.  Sometimes I wonder how it is that we are not yet official permanent residents.  We've been here for the better part of a decade.  Keren and Gavi have lived here longer than in the US.  We own a home.  But it's still not official.  This is through no fault of ours.

I used the phrase "ups and downs."  Mostly it's been downs.  Canada lost our application; there went nine months.  We had to start over.  Canada lost our medical reports.  By the way, I live here already.  If I have some illness I caught it here.  Canada closed offices dealing with our application.  In this time, my residency started over, due to Canada's losses and a necessary trip back to the US.  I lived in my own home as an official tourist for four months.

The best part, in entertainment value anyway, was the English Proficiency Test.  I am proud to say that I did better than Sean on the written part of the exam.  We tied for the oral.

The oral exam is administered from a book.  The examiner must ask the questions from the book, and may not deviate.  Clearly this book was not written for Americans.  My question was "Please tell me about your national food."I spoke of hot dogs and apple pie, although I believe cherry pie is a strong contender due to the story of George Washington and his father's cherry tree.  I spoke of going to ball parks where our national food could be combined with our national pastime, baseball.  I spoke of regional differences in toppings, from mustard to ketchup, sauerkraut, fried onions, relish, or, as in Chicago, everything but the kitchen sink.  By the end the examiner was laughing so hard he was crying.  He couldn't figure out why I was there.

Sean followed me.  The (same) examiner asked, "Tell me about your national costume..."  I hope we made his day.

Did I mention that after 4 years of working on this Canada has streamlined the process for those already living here?  It should take a maximum of 14 months.

Was That Really Necessary?

It is 7:55 AM.  Kids have just left for school.  (Thank you Lindy, who drives them every day!)  I am taking a moment trying not to fall asleep after a little over five hours of sleep while my breakfast cooks.

Why only five hours of sleep?  Thank you for asking.  Last night at 11:45 (scheduled) I had an MRI.  Is everything okay?  Yes.  It's really minor.  I have an inflamed nerve in my left foot, aka neuroma.  The nerve tissue becomes inflamed, and can become fibrous.  At it's best the toes (if it's in your foot) become numb, at worst, extremely painful.  I had the same problem in my right foot when Jesse was a year old.  I was unable to wear a shoe by the time I realized the problem.  It was treated over a few months.  It did not respond to the treatment, and so it was removed.  Not a problem since.

This time, I realized early on what was going on, and requested a referral to a podiatrist.  (Only much later did I discover that podiatry is not the same practice here as in the US.)  I saw a podiatrist, who did agree that I had the start of a neuroma.  He prescribed insoles.  They worked for a time, but a year later... OW.  Another podiatrist.  I didn't really like the bedside manner of the first.  This time custom orthotics.  These too worked for a period of time.  Then we added a toe spacer.  This was great when I was wearing shoes, but as I placed my foot on the floor most mornings the pain was growing. 

Who knew that a foot doctor was not the doctor to see for a foot problem.  My podiatrist does not do surgery.  Finally I was sent to an orthopedist.  It only took five years.  Within a minute or two of examination it was clear to him, and the resident, and an observer, that I have a neuroma.  Great.  We all agree, as do the two podiatrists.  When can we get it out?  Oh no, while we all know it's there, we must first do an MRI to confirm.  That was last night.

Sean drove me down.  I was a bit nervous and very tired.  We arrived early, and I was thankfully seen early.  The place was empty, so I don't fully understand why the 11:45 PM appointment.  We arrived about 11:30.  We were back in the car by 12:27.  The techs were professional and efficient.  They explained everything, and answered questions. 

Still, was this really necessary?  A very expensive test, very late at night, to confirm what 2 podiatrists, 2 orthopedists, an I all know.  I have a neuroma.  In the words of my uncle, a retired podiatrist who treated hundreds and hundreds of neuroma over the years.  (My first was removed in his office in NYC.)  An MRI for a neuroma.  That's stupid.

Have a great and restful day.  I'll be sleeping on my desk.

Construction & Jews

Sukkot is coming.

At this time of year, most Rabbis and Cantors are focused on the High Holidays and sermons.  Jews around the world are planning menus for the the guests that will descend for those same holidays.  For me, I look towards Sukkot.  If you are a regular reader of my blog, you will know I love sukkot.  I have written of my parents' sukkah, with walls of clear plastic to let in light and view my father's gardens, of our sukkot in Hawaii, North Carolina, and New York, and of our current sukkah.  You may even know we are about to go outside and put up this year's sukkah, if I ever stop typing.

I am dressed for sukkah construction.  I am an old pro, having built a sukkah most years since I was ten.  I have also been involved in other construction projects. When I was in grade six, community parents built a playground at my school from donated tires and railroad ties.  As an adult I have done a number of Habitat for Humanity builds.  There is much that is similar among all these construction projects, from tools, to reasons, but there are also differences.

Beyond the most obvious differences is the absence of the required steel-toed shoes and hard hats.  My clothes are similar, but I will be wearing a ball cap to shield me from the sun, and most likely my crocs.  They are bright blue and, most definitely, do not have steel toes.

However, even as I plan to put on my crocs, I wonder if I should go find some steel-toed shoes.  We build a serious sukkah.

I am not a sukkah snob.  I feel that everyone should find the sukkah that is right for her/him.  I love that Sukkah Depot advertises "klutz-proof sukkot" and pop-up sukkot.  The mitzvah is to dwell in a sukkah, not to design and build one from supplies at the local big box store.  But I, I love to build.  I love taking out the power tools.  I love the creative act of planning architectural changes.  I love the engineering (I guess Gavi gets that from me).

If you say to yourself, yes, but it's only a sukkah, I should tell you that one year  before we could secure a wall, the wind blew it over.  As the wall fell, it broke our deck table, causing the aluminum legs to buckle.  I'm glad that wasn't one of our heads.  We'd forgotten our hard hats that year too.