Contemporary Purim Reflections 5773/2013

As we celebrate Purim, I have been thinking about how radically different our experience of Purim is here in Israel in 2013, when contrasted with that of my ancestors who lived in Europe (Poland, Germany) only one-hundred years ago. I will try to explain and fully articulate this sentiment.

1. From Powerlessness to Sovereign Power

One insight that comes into focus in the Megilla is surely the dependence of the Jews upon the foreign power that hosts them and thus the fragility of their existence in Galut.

Let us begin with the closing lines of the Megilla:

"And King Ahasuerus imposed a tax upon the land and on the isles of the sea. And all the acts of his power and his might and the full account of Mordecai's greatness, how the king advanced him-are they not written in the book of the chronicles of the kings of Media and Persia? For Mordecai the Jew was viceroy to King Ahasuerus … seeking the good of his people…"

What is the purpose of these lines? Why mention the tax? What else do we observe here? Rav Yoni Grossman suggests that this section drives home the fact that when ultimately, despite the victory of Esther and Mordechai, all the prestige and power of Mordechai is framed within the context of the Persian government. The REAL power is held by Achashverosh; he can even impose taxes upon the far-flung islands. Note too how Mordechai's greatness is recorded specifically in the Chronicles of Media and Persia. This notion of "chronicles of kings", of "Divrei Hayamim," is quite familiar from our Tanakh, where our history is recorded in the "Chronicles of the kings of Israel and Judah." In this vein Rav Yoni Grossman comments:

"… the reader who recalls the kings of Israel and of Judah, in light of this expression, cannot but dwell on the chasm separating the kingdom of Achashverosh from the kingdom of Israel in its own land; the chasm separating the "Book of the Chronicles of the Kings of Media and Persia" and the "Book of the Chronicles of the Kings of Israel/Judah." In other words, the whole story narrated in Esther is the story of the Persians; it is the story of Achashverosh and his kingdom! This expression is, to a large extent, a biting one specifically because of its inclusion at the end of the story. The narrator is telling his readers, as it were: "When all is said and done, the exile is still the same exile; the king is the same king, and the Jews of Shushan remain where they are. This is not really a story about the Jews. Even if they played an important role in the plot, all in all this was nothing but an episode in the story of the Persians, the ‘kings of Media and Persia.'"

Yoram Hazony takes this a stage further in his book, "The Dawn,"

To live in a society ruled by others means that the government and the laws are not the product of a Jewish concern for the general public interest, and that they are certainly not the result of an interest in the well-being of the Jews as a nation; that Jewish intellectual endeavors are under constant pressure, whether overt or implicit, to conform to alien norms; and that Jewish leadership, if it is capable and effective, is perpetually viewed with a certain measure of suspicion and even fear-both by the community of non-Jews, and by members of the Jewish community concerned that Jewish success may be interpreted by the gentiles as a challenge to their authority.

So what I am saying is that essentially, the Purim story is a story of temporary salvation, of real danger which is averted by political manipulation.

How do we view this from a modern Israeli perspective, from the vantage point of Jewish sovereign self-governance?

The modern Israeli is disdainful of this Galut existence in which we fail to determine our national future. Israeli's don't want to be dancing to anyone else's tune. To an Israeli ear, in an era where Israelis have an army to protect them, and will fight openly and proudly against our foes, the Megilla sounds too much like an expression of powerlessness, vulnerability, and dependence on foreign favor.

2. Jewish Violence: From Fantasy to Danger

At most moments during our 2000 year of global wanderings, the Purim story in which Jews actually killed their enemies, was absolutely unrealistic. Rabbi Daniel Landes recently described it as a comic fantasy in which Jews get their vengeance on their most feared oppressors. However, I doubt that their were any Jews in the past 2000 years who harboured genuine plans of killing thousands of the anti-Semites who threatened them. The mitzvah to wipe out Amalek was entirely theoretical, and represented a idealized fight against forces of evil, something that we could philosophize about , and we were unlikely to enact.

And suddenly, we have Medinat Yisrael. We have weapons; we have the most powerful military in the Middle East. We really can kill our enemies. And now, how shall we relate to the mitzvah of Amalek? Now, a mitzvah that calls for vengeance and killing, a festival that celebrates avenging our enemies – this becomes dangerous stuff, especially after the Baruch Goldstein massacre. The notion of Amalek when abused will have devastating impact, and hence, Purim must be accompanied by caution, and our discussions of Amalek must be regulated and qualified.

--

One hundred years ago, a Jew in Poland or Russia, or Morocco, may have identified with the Shushan reality as not that different from his own. The paradigms were familiar. Purim is the quintessential holiday of survival in exile, repeated time after time around the diaspora.

Purim in Israel today then, is radically different from one-hundred years ago. We engage it in a manner unknown to our Galut forebears. And in that case, we have to wonder about the message that Purim can offer us here and now. What is the message that Purim should communicate?

Here are some thoughts that occur to me:

• The Persistence of Jew hatred. We need to use Purim to remind ourselves of how – from Haman to Hitler, from Aquinas to Ahaminajad - Jew-hatred is alive and well. It is irrational, but extremely deadly. We would do well to fight it whenever it raises its ugly head.
• The Impermanence of Stability. The analysis that I gave above, suggested that life in Shushan, to an Israeli ear, sounds impossibly vulnerable. However, even in an era of statehood and Jewish power, we need to recall that stability is never permanent, and that despite the illusions of security, the situation can turn dire at any given moment. Possibly Shushan is closer than we think. We should never get too overconfident.

Of course, there are many other messages within the Megilla itself. If you have anything to add, please do so in the comments below.

Purim Sameach!

Quick Election Analysis - the morning after

1.      The press is talking about blocs of left-wing and right-wing. They are talking an old language. They don’t understand what happened yesterday. So much of the analysis is so old-hat. Yesterday created a new paradigm – one that I am  excited about
2.      Goldberg (http://www.theatlantic.com/jeffrey-goldberg/) talks about a Knesset with 40% dati MK's. It may be true, but it is not that relevant.
3.      All the world press said this would be the most right-wing rascist government. They were wrong. The center won.
4.      This election was about new politics that overlooks whether you are right or left, dati or hiloni.
5.      Both Bennet and Lapid brought honesty to the table. Israelis said "no" to dirty politics. They want transparency. Lapid and Bennet won because they offered principles which they promise to follow.
6.      Israeli hard-working, Zionist, "social protest" society won yesterday. It said that we want a future for our children. We will work hard, but everyone should serve, pay taxes, and the government should serve its citizens.
7.      Bennet had a secular woman on his list. Yesh Atid has many religious MK's. What matters is whether you follow the mainstream Israeli-Zionist way.
8.      Likud lost support due to not appreciating all this, but also because people didn't want to vote for extremism (if they want right-wingers they can vote for Bennet), nor for criminals, nor for a party that is hijacked by political manipulation. The honest center won yesterday.
9.      The peace issue is on the back-burner. It isn't going anywhere fast, but us Israelis can wait for that. In the meantime we are building our society.
10. And one further thing - new faces. People don't want the same old tired politicians, who lack the solutions to the big questions. People are looking for new ideas, fresh personalities.

Of course... the challenge is in the coalition building and the putting ideas into action. That will bring its own imperfections, as Obama said in his inaugural speech on Monday:

For now decisions are upon us, and we cannot afford delay... We must act, knowing that our work will be imperfect. We must act, knowing that today’s victories will be only partial, and that it will be up to those who stand here in four years, and forty years, and four hundred years hence to advance the timeless spirit once conferred to us...

Rejecting the Extremists in our Midst

Today's Daf Yomi (Shabbat 54b-55a) presented a forthright and powerful ethical message:

Anyone who is able to protest against the transgressions of one's household and does not, is punished for the actions of the members of the household; anyone who is able to protest against the transgressions of one's townspeople and does not, is punished for the transgressions of the townspeople; anyone who is able to protest against the transgressions of the entire world and does not is punished for the transgressions of the entire world.

We are all culpable for our environment. We cannot claim that we are not interconnected with those who live in our home, our community, our town, or even our planet. It is our responsibility to raise our voices to protest when we see injustice, wrongdoing.

This passage struck a deep chord, because I had been thinking about the incident that happened last week with Rav Lior. If you are not up to date, here is the story as reported (link):

Rabbi Dov Lior, the chief rabbi of Kiryat Arba and one of the settler leaders, was surprised last week by the chilly reception he received from reserve soldiers stationed on the Gaza border.

One of the reserve soldiers called up by the IDF at start of Operation Pillar of Defense was Rabbi Lior's son-in-law, Efraim Ben-Shachar. Ahead of the weekend, shortly before the reservists were released, Ben-Shachar invited his father-in-law to meet with infantry fighters and support them with a Torah lesson following the arrival of many artists throughout the week.

But Rabbi Lior's visit sparked a row. Some of the unit's soldiers were outraged by the presence of the controversial rabbi, who had endorsed the "King's Torah" essay, which legitimizes the killing of non-Jews.

'Persona non grata'

According to one of the unit's soldiers, Omer Parter, an activist in the Working Youth movement, protested the rabbi's presence. Rabbi Lior tried to shake his hand, but he refused. When the rabbi asked, "Am I not allowed to speak to the soldiers?" Parter replied, "You are a persona non grata here."

As religious soldiers began gathering around the rabbi to listen to what he had to say, Prater told his comrades that Lior was one of the rabbis who gave their consent to the "King's Torah" book. Along with other soldiers, he searched for quotes from the book on his cell phone, including the permission to kill small children "if it is clear that they will grow up to pose a threat to our nation."

As tensions rose, Rabbi Lior decided to leave several minutes later without addressing the soldiers.

"I believe there is no room for Rabbi Lior's messages in the army," Prater told Ynet. "I oppose and condemn Rabbi Dov Lior's work and activities. I did stop him from speaking in light of his support for Baruch Goldstein and his conduct in the period before Rabin's murder. This is how I educate my pupils at the Working Youth – to love the land and practice equality, and not to hate anyone."

Amos Netzer, a friend of the protesting soldiers, wrote about the incident on his Facebook page: "I am proud of my friends who insisted on the truth, despite the harsh conflict with their comrades, exposing the true colors of one of the greatest instigators in Israel."

So that is the story. I read it and felt inspired by of those soldiers who actively opposed Rav Lior's presence in the army base. Rav Lior is an extremist. His views encourage violence and even murder. His political views, phrased in religious language, were part of the incitement in the lead-up to Rabin's murder. He has supported the book "Torat Hamelekh" a pseudo-halakhic work that incites violence and hatred against Arabs, moreover, when he was summoned for questioning by the Israeli police, he refused to comply. I have not studied his works in detail, but even upon this evidence alone, his views and personal example are dangerous for Israelis and for Judaism.

I asked myself whether I would have protested his arrival at an army base, or at my shul, with the moral clarity and stridency of those soldiers, and I am unsure whether I would have raised my voice or remained on the sidelines, not taking a stand. I live in a yishuv (settlement) in which I feel like a moderate, and I frequently encounter many people hold extreme views, some of which are expressed in blatantly racist language. When people write something offensive, I usually just read and ignore it; after all who wants to get into a fight? And standing up for your beliefs against other people always means that you will be attacked, accused and maligned. It is compounded more when, in the case of Rav Lior, the man is undeniably a huge Torah scholar and has a devoted following. There is a conflict: Do I shame a Torah scholar? And yet, I find his views unacceptable. How strongly should I oppose him? Should I personally not attend his lectures, or should I protest outside them? Should I campaign that he be removed from his post as chief rabbi of Kiryat Arba? (- a position paid for by the State of Israel.)

Here let me make a general comment which goes to the heart of the problem. Every community has difficulty reigning in their extremists. We propose that the Haredim in Beit Shemesh control their extremists who insult and harass schoolgirls on their way to study. We suggest that ordinary Palestinians bring pressure to bear on Hamas to stop firing rockets into Israel and to cease storing weaponry in hospitals and kindergartens. We wonder why the Peace camp cannot restrain their anarchists who throw stones at the IDF in Billin every Friday. And the moderate settler community should be responsible to expunge their extremists.

But it is hard for the community at large to bring down their radicals, the people at the more extreme fringes of the community. Why? First, these are frequently scary or powerful groups. But second, these people share the ideology of the entire community; their basic political perspective is not enormously different from everyone else. But they take it to an extreme, engaging in violence or unethical behavior. So how does one draw lines? And how does a person turn against their neighbour and possibly report them to the police, or protest against them? And how does one know for sure if this person is harmful?  

In a lecture I attended recently, they spoke about how one of the favourite pastimes of kids in Israel in the 1950's was going out and picking wild flowers, with some even sold commercially. In the mid-1960s, however, the Nature Reserves Authority, with the help of the Society for the Protection of Nature, published a list of protected wildflowers and launched a vigorous education campaign. The public was urged: "Don't pick! Don't uproot! Don't buy! And don't sell!" The effort saved Israel's wildflowers, and three decades later it is considered the most successful nature protection campaign conducted in the country. A professor of botany (who has an official permit to pick wild flowers) reported that he cannot go into the countryside on weekends or vacations because he is stridently accused and virtually accosted with children who berate him for ruining nature!
 

If we can teach our kids about protecting flowers and empower them to speak out, how do we educate our kids to speak out against other forms of extremism?

If  violence is involved, that should be a clear line. I often wonder how we can hear so many reports about settlers cutting down Arab's trees and nobody has been arrested and put on trial. Either the reports are fabricated, or the police are inept, or worse -apathetic.Why have the perpetrators of "Tag Mechir" ("Price Tag") attack not been located and tried? The moderates condemn them but will the mainstream settler community actively eschew them?

Some time back, when a nearby mosque was firebombed, I attended a public demonstration to protest the fact that a Jew would attack a mosque. But in an area of many thousands of Jews, only 30 people turned up. Happily several key local Rabbis made a visit to the mosque to express their moral outrage, and to express their regret to the local muslims, but again, these are the moderates - Rav Lior was not there. A similar scenario when some youths in the area threw a firebomb at an Arab taxi with six people injured. Moderates condemn, the rest are silent. If we do not protest these things, are we not compliant when the next attack comes? We need to find ways to empower ourselves to eject extremist elements from our communities, and to send a clear message that racist, hateful and murderous philosophies, and acts of violence or prejudice are unacceptable and reprehensible.

In the meantime, think about this. Would you have protested Rav Lior's visit? And what will you do next time you encounter reprehensible behavior?

Missiles in the South and Parashat Toldot

This week's parsha finds Isaac in the South, the Negev, under attack. The people of Gerar perceive him as a foreigner, accusing him of usurping their land, and they challenge his right to live in the region. However, in contrast to Abraham who is a transient shepherd, Isaac is a farmer who is deeply connected to the land, making the desert bloom and digging for water deep into the soil. He refuses to be intimidated into abandoning his farm, his land. He digs and finds a well of spring water. He gives it a name - "Esek" - which means contention or dispute. Isaac is not flustered. He digs another well and names it "Sitnah" - Enmity or Hostility. Clearly the conflict continues unabated. Isaac represents the quality of Gevurah, tenacity, persistence, and he doesn't give up. However, the 3rd well that he digs reflects the fact that he has prevailed in his struggle. He calls it "Rehovot" indicative of space, relief, calm. Once the people of Gerar understand that he is not going to leave, and that he is growing stronger, they accept his presence and approach him to make peace. (Read Genesis 26:12-33.)

This could not be more relevant and resonant to events "down South" this week. We, like our father Isaac, will grip the land, and we will not be intimidated by those who seek to dislodge us. We too will persist so that we may flourish here, and eventually, when they accept our presence here, achieve peace with our neighbours.

Shabbat Shalom!

Rosh Hashanna 5773 - Shofar and God's Love of Israel

On the one hand, the cycle of the Jewish year is predictable and familiar: The solemnity of Yom Kippur, the smells and feel of the Sukka and the 4 species, the warmth and intimacy of Hannnuka, Purim's raucous frivolity, the tunes and tastes of Seder night, the lilt of Eikha on the 9th of Av, and so forth. We know what to anticipate, and we look forward to the special atmosphere that each holiday brings.

And yet, each year is unique. Something is happening in my life this year that is different from last year. As individuals, we face new concerns and challenges; our health, our finances, our family undergo change and development. Our insights expand us, new experiences unlock fresh emotions and understanding. Nationally, the challenges of Israel and the Jewish people shift and fluctuate with time. And so, in some way, each year is experienced anew.

And so, looking towards Rosh Hashanna, I found myself seeking an insight that will generate new kavanna, a fresh perspective to inspire the powerful davening experience of the day. I would like to share the following idea which has excited me this year. I hope it will affect you as well.

Parashat Balak records the famous blessings (that might have been curses) uttered by Bilaam. In those blessings Bilaam praises the unique relationship between God and Israel: 

לֹא הִבִּיט אָוֶן בְּיַעֲקֹב וְלֹא רָאָה עָמָל בְּיִשְׂרָאֵל יְהוָה אֱלֹהָיו עִמּוֹ וּתְרוּעַת מֶלֶךְ בּוֹ.

"He has not beheld iniquity in Jacob, Neither has he seen perverseness in Israel; The Lord his God is with him, And the shout of a king is among them." (Bamidbar 23:21)

This passuk is particularly applicable to Rosh Hashanna as it features in the series of ten pesukim recited in the malkhuyot section of Musaf. On first reading it seems pretty straightforward in expressing God's love of Israel in that He overlooks our sins and faults. The verse's four clauses tell us that 1.) God ignores our sins, 2.) He is oblivious to our flaws, moreover 3.) "The Lord God is with him" i.e. with Israel, in other words He actively associates His identity with the Jewish people. But then we have the concluding phrase – "Teruat Melekh" - "and the shout (Terua) of a king is among them" - and this is difficult to understand. What is this "shout" or "fanfare" of the king? And how does it feature in connection with Israel?

Ibn Ezra writes: ותרועת מלך בו: במחנה ישראל וזה ותקעתם תרועה – "The Terua of the king is within him: In the camp of Israel, and this is what is indicated by   'And they shall sound the Terua.'(Bamidbar 10,5)."

Ibn Ezra is quoting a passuk that describes how trumpets were sounded when the Israelites journeyed in the wilderness. But how is this shofar blast demonstrative of God? In fact, when we read the context in Bamidbar, it seems like a signal, indicating to the throngs of Israel announcing that they would be breaking camp. Why is the pre-travel alarm signal defined as "the Terua of the King?"

Sephorno's reading offers one line of interpretation:

הם תוקעים תרועה בנסוע המשכן לשמחה שיגילו במלכם –
"They sounded a [trumpet] blast when the Mishkan traveled to express joy, delighting in their King [God]." In other words, this was a "blast of the king" because the Terua sound heralded the movement of the Mishkan, not the nation. This fanfare underscored God's presence amidst them. Israel's honor was the fact that God established His earthly residence amongst them, so that even when they journeyed, God's presence traveled with them.

These commentaries share the interpretation that the verse refers to an actual trumpet blast blown in the camp of Israel. However, this reading creates an imbalance in the passuk as the first 3 clauses refer to God's action, whereas the 4th clause depicts Israel's act (of sounding the trumpets.)

The Ramban however reads this phrase as God's action rather than Israel's: "ותרועת מלך גבור בו שלא ינוצח לעולם" – "The mighty King's war-shout (Terua) is amongst them, that they will never be defeated." In other words, the "Terua" is not a trumpet blast at all, but it refers to the sounds of war. This phrase states that God will ensure Israel's victory on the battlefield.

But Rashi contributes the most creative and surprising reading:

"ותרועת מלך בו: לשון חבה ורעות כמו רעה דוד אוהב דוד ויתנה למרעהו וכן תרגם אונקלוס ושכינת מלכהון ביניהון" – "A Language of love and friendship, as in 'The friend of David' (II Sam 15:37), [and see Judges 15:6]…"

For Rashi, the "Terua" is not a blast of the horn at all, not for travel or in the battlefield. It is a derivative of the word רעות meaning friendship, affection, fondness for a beloved.

For Rashi, the verse as a whole expresses the love between God and Israel whereby, as in a human love-relationship, objectivity is swept aside, flaws are ignored, and closeness and companionship is sought. Rashi's reading is highly attractive as it remains true to theme:

"He [God] is oblivious to Jacob's sin, and fails to notice Israel's errors, The Lord his God is with him, And the love of the king is extended to him [Israel]."

Here the word "Terua" is transformed from a horn blast to a deep emotion of love. If we can apply this to our Rosh Hashanna – the "Yom Terua;" God commands us to sound the Shofar, but that very word, and hence that gesture is symbolic and expressive of God's friendship and love towards Israel. Traditionally, the Terua instills a sense of dread, a feeling of fear. At Mt. Sinai, the people heard the shofar and trembled. And yet we are proposing a model which is the polar opposite. We sound a fanfare to God, but in truth God is giving us the Terua - a gift of love - which is a divine opportunity to celebrate the special relationship, the eternal love of God for His nation. And as we blow the Shofar of God's devotion and affection, we hope that God, in his love, will overlook the sins of Israel.

How Jewish are the Olympics?

I don't mean to spoil the party, but I need to say that there is something very cruel about the Olympics. An athlete trains, wins competitions, spends years of discipline, toil and sweat in dedication to their sport, excels in their field, and then is named the leading sportsman of their country. Then the athlete travels to the Olympic games, and comes 8th. No medal, no national anthem. The next day, the newspaper discusses their "failure" and they are interviewed on national radio in a spirit of commiseration and disappointment. Now, let us get this in perspective - this is the most supreme athlete in their country. This person is the 8th fastest/ strongest/ most skilled sportsman in the WORLD. This person lost by a fraction of a second, or by a 1/100th of a point. And they are cruelly discarded into the  garbage dump of history.

Now does this make any sense at all?  Why is this competition so narrow, so inconsiderate? The winner takes all, and the loser? ... what is left for the loser?

All of this gave me pause to consider Rav Soloveitchik's comments in his article, Catharsis (Tradition, 1978)

The mere myth of the hero gave the aesthete endless comfort. At least, the classical aesthete said to himself, there was an individual who dared to do the impossible and to achieve the grandiose. In short, the hero of classical man was the grandiose figure with whom, in order to satisfy his endless vanity, classical man identified himself: hero worship is basically self-worship. The classical idea of heroism, which is aesthetic in its very essence, lacks the element of absurdity and is intrinsically dramatic and theatrica1. The hero is an actor who performs in order to impress an appreciative audience. The crowd cheers, the chronicler records, countless generations afterwards admire, bards and minstrels sing of the hero. The classical heroic gesture represents, as I said before, frightened, disenchanted man, who tries to achieve immortality and permanence by identifying himself with the heroic figure on the stage. It does not represent a way of life. It lasts for a while, vibrant and forceful,  but soon man reverts to the non-heroic mood of everyday living.

This depiction accurately describes the Olympic games. It is about the human with superhuman strength - the figure of the "superhero" - who demonstrates the limits of human achievement and thereby wows us, somehow generating the confidence that we too share some of that greatness, that someone will save the world. It is about the show, the cheering crowds, but what does it have to do with me? Rav Reuven Ziegler explains the Rav in the following way:

"Catharsis" is a Greek term denoting purifying or purging (as when one purges gold of its impurities in a crucible). In his "Poetics," Aristotle defined the function of tragedy as catharsis of the emotions of terror and pity. Man is often troubled; he is full of anxieties which interfere with his social success. When he watches a tragic drama at the theater, he releases these emotions in a controlled and safe environment, emerging from the experience cleansed.

Although the Rav does not directly compare his notion of catharsis with that of Aristotle, the contrast is staggering (and certainly intentional). For the Rav, catharsis is not the passive response of a theatergoer but an active and demanding way of life. It is designed to attain not equanimity but redemption, to produce not an arrogant patrician but a sanctified personality balancing majesty and humility. While Greek tragedy teaches that man is an object acted upon by random forces and suffering an inexorable fate, Judaic catharsis is a means for man, as a subject, to connect himself actively to a higher destiny.

So what does Rav Soloveitchik offer as an alternative to the brute strength of the athlete, the theatrical experience of the "Games"? Rav Soloveitchik proposes that every person can become a hero! They will not be the fastest or strongest; but גבורה as opposed to כח (brute strength) is a quality of the mind, a spirit of endurance. For Rav Soloveitchik, adherence to Halakha that takes place in the privacy of a Jewish home; the commitment and self-control inherent in that system - THAT is heroism. And this is a different type of Catharsis, because it actively purifies our lives, our spiritual selves. It is not a show; it is life itself:

"It often happens that a man takes a wife when he is forty years of age. When... he wishes to associate with her, she says to him, 'I have seen a rose-red speck (of menstrual blood),' he immediately recoils. What made him retreat and keep away from her? Was there an iron fence, did a serpent bite him, did a scorpion sting him? ... Only the words of the Torah which are as soft as a bed of lilies." ( Shir ha Shirim R. to Song 7:3.)

Bride and bridegroom are young, physically strong and passionately in love with each other. Both have patiently waited for this rendezvous to take place. Just one more step and their love would have been fulfilled, a vision realized. Suddenly the bride and groom make a movement of recoiL. He, gallantly, like a chivalrous knight, exhibits paradoxical  heroism. He takes his own defeat. There is no glamor attached to his withdrawal ... The heroic act did not take place in the presence of jubilating crowds; no bards will sing of these two modest, humble young people. It happened in the sheltered privacy of their home, in the stillness of the night.

Of course athletes have enormous self-discipline, and yet, for me, the Olympics fail to relate. Judaism is not measured by who comes 1st, second or third, by the speed of the 100m, or the most exquisite equestrian performance. Rather, it is about the sanctity of the homes that we create, of the small acts of kindness, of the daily self-control, of the struggle with the evil inclination, of the life lived in adherence to a higher calling, of dedication to God, which in turn elevates and purifies man.

Pirkei Avot expresses the irony that the גבור - the athlete or hero - is not the person who exhibits greatest physical  prowess, but rather the inner strength - הכובש את יצרו.