Living, Learning, Dancing and Crying with a Sacred Camera and a Holy Anchor

This summer, once again, I was privileged to take some time to focus on my professional development and went to Israel, for, what one colleague called “the un conference”.

As we all know, when entering some professional conferences there is an unstated rule that one is supposed to put on their professional armor. Bring your business cards, your laptops, you chargers, and be ready to talk shop.  

But, deep in the hills outside Yerushalayim at Yeshivat Mekor Chaim, there were no desks, no power chords, no lanyards, no clock on the wall. Just a pen, paper and a circle of chairs and 20 other educators who are inspiring and inspired to grow and learn.

This was the Linfai V’Lifnim conference where for 6 days you are challenged to dig deep into your soul and find the language of your heart to connect best to yourself. To others. To your students, to Torah and to God. (Learn more about it here)

At Lifnai, most sessions begin with what is called a bracha rishona, an initial moment before each session whose purpose is to connect to self and others before diving into a Torah text. 

One of our first “bracha rishonas” presented to the 19 educators from around the world was to fill in the sentence– “Torah is like ….” 

And we were given space and time to think. 

My mind went to the classics first. —Torah is like esh, fire. Torah is like mayim, water. Torah is even the air we breathe. But then two images entered my head and they have been stuck there ever since.

Torah is like a camera. And Torah is like an anchor 

When you pull out a camera, or even one on your phone, you are prepared to see the world or others and capture them in a unique moment. Also, different moments with a camera require you to see your world beyond yourself with a wide angle lens and, at times, moments require you to see things more deeply, with a zoom lens. 

Torah does and should always inspire us to do the same. Learning Torah should always be challenging us to see the big picture, looking beyond ourselves, being aware of those next to us (ben adam lechaveiro) and to our God above us (ben adam lemakom). 

Four psukim from the last few weeks’ parshiyot display this wide angle focus perfectly, 

Devarim 10:18-21

עֹשֶׂ֛ה מִשְׁפַּ֥ט יָת֖וֹם וְאַלְמָנָ֑ה וְאֹהֵ֣ב גֵּ֔ר לָ֥תֶת ל֖וֹ לֶ֥חֶם וְשִׂמְלָֽה׃

(God) upholds the cause of the fatherless and the widow, and befriends the stranger, providing food and clothing.—

וַאֲהַבְתֶּ֖ם אֶת־הַגֵּ֑ר כִּֽי־גֵרִ֥ים הֱיִיתֶ֖ם בְּאֶ֥רֶץ מִצְרָֽיִם׃

You too must befriend the stranger, for you were strangers in the land of Egypt.

אֶת־יְ-וָ֧ה אֱלֹהֶ֛יךָ תִּירָ֖א אֹת֣וֹ תַעֲבֹ֑ד וּב֣וֹ תִדְבָּ֔ק וּבִשְׁמ֖וֹ תִּשָּׁבֵֽעַ׃

You must revere the ETERNAL your God—whom you shall worship, to whom you shall hold fast, and by whose name you shall swear.

ה֥וּא תְהִלָּתְךָ֖ וְה֣וּא אֱלֹהֶ֑יךָ אֲשֶׁר־עָשָׂ֣ה אִתְּךָ֗ אֶת־הַגְּדֹלֹ֤ת וְאֶת־הַנּֽוֹרָאֹת֙ הָאֵ֔לֶּה אֲשֶׁ֥ר רָא֖וּ עֵינֶֽיךָ׃

God is your glory and your God, who wrought for you those marvelous, awesome deeds that you saw with your own eyes.

At the same time, Devarim also challenges us to not only look widely, but to look deeply with a zoom lens into  our souls and look at the motivations for what we do. 

It gives us advice on how to navigate how we see ourselves by telling us how to speak to our hearts. (9:4 אַל־תֹּאמַ֣ר בִּלְבָבְךָ֗   7:17 כִּ֤י תֹאמַר֙ בִּלְבָ֣בְךָ֔8:17, וְאָמַרְתָּ֖ בִּלְבָבֶ֑ךָ, )

And it also commands us to focus on those closest to us, by telling us in the Shema to teach Torah and values to our children as they, and family should always be our primary focus.

(4:7 וְלִמַּדְתֶּ֥ם אֹתָ֛ם אֶת־בְּנֵיכֶ֖ם    11:19, וְשִׁנַּנְתָּ֣ם לְבָנֶ֔יךָ  )

Yes, Torah pushes us to see things broadly and deeply. Torah  is like a camera. 

And Torah is also the anchor. It anchors our lives. Our selves. Our priorities. 

Over my trip to Israel I was continually inspired by Israelis who show incredible resilience and strength.  I had the distinct honor to spend Shabbat at Netiv Asarah, a Moshav near the border of Gaza where 17 people were killed on October 7. And the man I most remember from that Shabbat is Yerahmial Menachem. He turned 80, this past Rosh Chodesh menachem Av. (Thus the name Menachem.)

As we sat at kiddush, he was asked to share a bracha. As we sat in this space where there is so much tragedy, his bracha was simple. He told us all, no matter what, to follow Tehilim 100,

 עִבְד֣וּ אֶת־יְהֹוָ֣ה בְּשִׂמְחָ֑ה בֹּ֥אוּ לְ֝פָנָ֗יו בִּרְנָנָֽה׃

worship GOD in gladness;come into the divine presence with shouts of joy.

Yerachmiel is just one of the countless Israelis that I met who are just so grounded in what’s important, filtering out the negativity teaching lessons that all of us can learn. 

There is so much distraction and so much suffering and challenge in all of our lives, but we must turn to Torah  to stay focussed, stay grounded on what you really want to accomplish and your true mission on  the earth. 

Whether it is joy, or faith or empathy or love–make Torah your anchor, doing your best to navigate the distractions, while staying grounded in what matters most. 

As we head into Rosh Chodesh and begin the process of looking back on another year of joys,tears, dancing, hardship, ups and downs, I challenge all of us to answer what Torah might be "like" as these images should be our companions as we move forward. 

Wishing everyone an Elul of introspection, prospective and grounding.