Ancient Greek legend tells of Antaeus, a giant wrestler of incredible strength. He challenged anyone who passed his way to a wrestling match, and he invariably destroyed his opponents. But then Antaeus met a foe that he could not defeat: Hercules.

How did Hercules vanquish Antaeus? Hercules lifted Antaeus off the ground! As long as Antaeus stood firmly on earth, he was unconquerable; but once he was uprooted, his strength left him. Hercules was victorious because he understood that a rootless Antaeus would be sapped of power, unable to stand against the strength of Hercules.

This legend points to an important lesson: people who are well grounded are able to withstand opponents; people who lose their footing, who become rootless, are sapped of power.

When we pray for blessings on ourselves and our families, do we really know if we are asking for the right things?

Sometimes, we may think we very much need a certain blessing—but ultimately, what we think we want actually turns out to be detrimental to us. A short-term “blessing” may indeed be the recipe for a long-term “curse.”

Or, what we may think is very bad for us actually turns out to be a blessing. At first, we think we’ve suffered a terrible setback or defeat; but in the long run, this “defeat” turns out to be a great blessing for us. It offers us an opportunity and impetus to move in new directions, to discover new strengths.

“You shall make no idols for yourselves, nor shall you raise for yourselves a graven image or a pillar; nor shall you place any figured stone in your land to bow down unto it; for I am the Lord your God. You shall keep My Sabbaths and reverence My sanctuary: I am the Lord” (Vayikra 26:1-2).

The Torah juxtaposes the prohibition of idolatry with the positive commandments to observe Sabbath and revere the Sanctuary. What is the connection between these themes?

The essence of idolatry is to render a false representation of God. Idolatry, at root, is a lie. It purports to limit God to a physical image. It has people worship an image—but not the real God. It focuses on physical image, not on eternal spirit.

The funeral of my Uncle Dave Romey was held in Seattle on Sunday April 7, 2013. For many years, he taught Spanish language and literature—at the University of Vermont, Temple University, and Portland State University.

Wise people have commented on the juxtaposition of the names of the two Torah portions we will be reading this Shabbat. Aharei Mot means “after the death”; Kedoshim means “holy”. My interpretation of the juxtaposition of these words is that we often don’t appreciate the greatness of a person until after he/she dies. After the death, we come to think more carefully about the person’s life, and we come to a deeper recognition of his/her unique qualities.

A story is told of a dairyman in a small village who used to provide milk to the local population. In order to increase his profits, he decided to dilute the milk with 5% water. People seemed not to notice the difference, so a few months later he added 5% more water. Again, he received no complaints…so he continued to dilute the milk, little by little, month after month. People paid full price for diluted milk…and the milkman was making a nice profit.

Conference for University Students:

Where the Yeshiva Meets the University

Sunday, April 14, 10:30am to 2pm
Congregation Shearith Israel, 8 West 70th St., New York, NY
Just steps from the B/C and 1/2/3 at 72nd Street

Sponsored by the University Network of the Institute for Jewish Ideas and Ideals. This program, including lunch, is free for college and graduate students--but advance reservations are required:

Register today at jewishìdeas.weebly.com

Join students from around New York for a stimulating
conversation with Rabbi Hayyim Angel!

10 to 10:30am Registration
10:30 to 1 1:45-- Orthodoxy & Biblical Archeology: Friends or Foes?
11:45 to 12:45 Lunch
12:45 to 2pm-- Sarah’s Treatment of Hagar: Morals, Messages & Mesopotamia

A story is told about Rabbi Yitzhak Elhanan of Kovno, one of the great rabbinic sages of the 19th century. He was held in high regard among the Jews of Lithuania; even the “enlightened” Jews thought him to be progressive and broad-minded.

On one of his travels, his train stopped briefly at Vilna. Hundreds of Jews came to the train to see the famous rabbi. A certain maskil (“enlightened” Jew) decided to enter the train in order to meet the rabbi in person. He found Rabbi Yitzhak Elhanan wrapped in talit and tefillin, reciting his prayers. The rabbi had a long beard and was dressed in the “old fashioned” garb of religious traditionalists of those days.

Ruth Calderon, a new member of the Israel Knesset, has a Sephardic father and an Ashkenazic mother. She was raised outside the Orthodox religious establishment in Israel, but has earned a doctorate in Talmudic literature from the Hebrew University. She works to bridge gaps among all segments of Israeli society.

In her inaugural speech in the Knesset, she made an impassioned plea for all Jews to draw on the wisdom of Torah. The Torah heritage does not belong to one segment of the Jewish population, but to all Jews.

The Torah indicates that the Holy Ark of the Mishkan was covered by Keruvim, angelic figures. “And the Keruvim spread out their wings on high, screening the ark-cover with their wings, with their faces one to another; toward the ark-cover were the faces of the keruvim” (Shemot 37:9).

In describing Solomon’s Temple (Chronicles II 3:13) the Bible reports that the countenances of the Keruvim “faced the house” i.e. the Temple. This seems to indicate that the Keruvim’s faces were not looking at each other.

Sometimes it takes a crisis to remind us of the transience of life. It might be an illness, the death of a loved one, an accident, a shocking and tragic news report. At these crisis moments, we suddenly and starkly remember that we are mortal, that life on this earth is temporary.

When people confront their own mortality, they often come to the realization that time is precious; that life is too valuable to be frittered away on nonsense; that it is self-destructive to engage in petty feuds or egotistical competitions. It can take a crisis to help us live on a higher, happier level. Facing the transience of life, we take our living moments more seriously.