Rabbi Stephen Weiss
Shabbat Va-ethanan 2020
So, Rabbi Feinstein asked the girl, “Tell me something, who loves you?”
This morning I want to share a story with you that I heard from my friend and colleague, Rabbi Ed Feinstein. It is a true story. I hope that you find it as moving as I do.
The story is about a young girl in Rabbi Feinstein’s congregation. She was a bright articulate second grader having night terrors. Well after midnight she would awaken screaming hysterically something about death. So, her parents brought her to see the rabbi. That rabbi was Rabbi Feinstein. Here is their conversation:
“Sounds like you’re really scared at night,” he began.
“Yeah,” she agreed, playing with the knickknacks on his desk.
“Did something happen that made you so scared?” he inquired.
“No, nothing really,” she put him off. Then after a pause, “Well, my dog died.”
He jumped on this, “That’s terrible! Your poor dog died. You must be really sad about that.”
“No,” she parried, “he was really old and really sick and really smelly, and I didn’t like him very much.” And then, “But when he died, I started thinking about my grandma who died.”
Having been put off once, Rabbi Feinstein proceeded more carefully, “And what was that like?”
“Well, I was only three, so I don’t really remember her very well. But I started thinking that if grandma could die, and grandma was mommy’s mother, well, that means mommy could die. And that made me really scared.”
The knickknacks were set aside, and they were both paying attention now. She was such an open and forthright kid that he decided to press a little farther. “What do you think about when you’re so scared?”
“Well, you know, if mommy died, who would take care of me?”
“That is scary.”
“Yeah, that’s what I think about at night and that’s why I start crying.”
Of course, she is crying, he thought. At age 7, she has discovered the single most terrifying element of the human condition. With that discovery, her world is no longer so secure and bright. Rabbi Feinstein knew in that moment where to take the conversation. Of course, she is crying. We’ve all cried those tears, he thought, but we know something else about being human. And you know it too.
So, Rabbi Feinstein asked the girl, “Tell me something, who loves you?”
“That’s a silly question…. lots of people love me!”
“Like who?”
“Well, mommy and daddy, my grandpa, and my other grandma and grandpa – I call them Nana and Papa, my Uncle Jack – he’s really funny…”
“Wait a second,” said Rabbi Feinstein. He reached to find a piece of paper and a marker. “Start writing. Make a list of all the people who love you.”
Then they started the list again. “Mommy, daddy, grandpa, Nana, Papa, Uncle Jack…” Soon the list grew long including teachers, doctors, babysitters, the lady at the bakery who gave away cookies. Even Rabbi Feinstein himself made the list.
When she had finished listing all the people who love her, Rabbi Feinstein told her, “Here’s what I want you to do. Keep this right next to your bed. When you wake up in the middle of the night, and you start thinking those scary thoughts about death, read the list. Read the list of all the people who love you. Read it out loud. Let’s see what happens.”
And she did. The little girl read the list every night before bed. And sometimes in the middle of the night. And do you know what happened? The night terrors stopped.
This week’s Torah portion, Va-ethnanan, contains the central affirmation of our faith: “Shema Yisrael Adonai Eloheynu Adonai Echad – Hear O Israel, the Lord is our God, the Lord is One.” In accordance with the paragraph that follows in the Torah, V’ahavta, we recite these words in prayer twice every day; before we lie down in the evening and shortly after we wake up in the morning. The Torah also commands us to keep these words in our heart, to teach them to our children, to recite them whether we are at home or away. They are meant to be a constant presence in our minds and hearts, not unlike the young girl’s list.
And you know, before we say Shema Yisrael in the morning, tradition requires – as we did just a short time ago this morning – that we gather together the tzitziyot, the long fringes on the four corners of the tallit. We wrap them around the fingers and hold them close as we affirm our faith.
There are many explanations offered by Rabbinic scholars over the ages as to why we gather the tzitziyot – the fringes. Among them, Rav Schneur Zalman of Liady taught that the tzitziyot are symbolic of the Kavannah – or focus – that we are to have as we say the Shema. As we chant its words, we should be concentrating on the idea that God is one in the heavens and the earth and everywhere on the four corners of the earth.
The alef in the word echad – one — stands for the affirmation that God is One. The value of the letter alef in gematria is one. So we hold the four fringes as one.
The chet stands for the seven different planes of heaven and the one earth. Seven plus one is 8, the value of a chet. There are eight threads hanging down loose on each fringe.
God’s singular presence fills the whole world. The four corners also stand for the four letters in the Name of God, Yud Hey Vav Hey. These are the four fringes that we hold together.
A second explanation is that the five double knots on each fringe – five times two (5×2) – equals ten – plus the eight threads of each fringe, equals 18. 18 x 4 for the four fringes equals 72, which is the value in Gematria of Chesed, the sefirah – or attribute of God – that represents lovingkindness.
And three – for the three letters in the word Echad – multiplied by 72 equals 216, the number of letters in one of the mystical names of God.
We also gather the four fringes to symbolize our belief that the Jewish people will be gathered from the four corners of the world and brought to the land of Israel in the messianic age. That idea is expressed toward the end of the last blessing we recite before the Shema.
But on that day, after having this conversation with this wonderful, insightful young lady, Rabbi Feinstein says he came to realize another profound meaning that infuses the ritual of gathering our tzitziyot. His explanation is so deeply profound that I wanted to share it with you today.
Rabbi Feinstein says, “As we gather the fringes, we gather all those who love us and all those we love into our hands. We gather them into one, as we say the word Echad — to affirm the solidarity that gives us the courage to face all the terrors of being human and continue to live with hope and with faith. The custom is, as well, to elongate the word Echad – hold the syllable, Ehaaaaaad – long enough to include them all, all those we love, and all whose love touches us. To feel their collective love is to feel the presence of the Holy One who loves us.
May we always – but most especially in this stress filled time in which we live, keep the list of those who love us before our eyes. May we always feel God’s love through their collective love. May that love hold us, comfort us, sustain us. May it fill us with calm and equanimity. May it give us the strength and determination to go on, no matter what challenges we face. May it lift our spirits and enable us to see the good and the beauty in every moment. May it fill our hearts with joy. May we return that love a thousand-fold to those who love us and to all those we encounter in our daily lives. And V’ahavta – through our love for others, may we return that love to God.