Lazer Beams

Interactive Parable: The Rabbit and the Fox - Readers' interpretations

An interactive parable is when Lazer throws the allegorical ball and our readers run with it. Refresh your memory about The Rabbit and the Fox from last Sunday. Here are some choice interpretations:

Danny-girl from California writes:

"Your beautiful story, at first reading, did not seem to me at all a parable, but just the plain description of our sad present reality. The ruling class, the decision makers, the intelligentsia that controls the power, show itself as mighty lions, but not only they are asses (but only in the symbolic sense... they are stupid parasites, instead donkeys are useful animals), they are also mean and stupid. The self-appointed cunning foxes, the CEO, the enterprisers, they can't even describe themselves beyond their job, however, they are nervous wrecks, they need "entertainment" and to "escape" (how so, if they were so passionate about "the mission" as they claim to be?) and on the spanish riviera they eat like pigs and gain ten kilos in a couple of months, complaining at the same time they're homesick. Where's the parable? it's all quite literal.

It's enough to threaten them with the loss of the job (aka their identity) to have them comply instantly, and accept their new role of rabbits, that is, scared slaves that decide nothing and implement orders, while the brainstorming gets shifted to the newly-hired "foxes" that aren't overweight and rigid-minded - yet. As for the rabbits, they don't hesitate to disguise their nature of trembling slaves as often as they can, posing as "foxes", cunning and "smart" (in their own opinion) individuals that shoot in the back their fellow humans and fill out all those forms that nowadays are so popular, where one should spell out the shortcomings of co-workers. I never filled those forms as intended, and always thought it'd be pretty transparent that, putting ethics aside for a minute, it's not a smart idea to do so, but apparently lots of people that call themselves smart fill those forms as intended. I think the story is not a parable but just an ordinary day at work, especially in the USA.

However, given that you solicit interpretations, and given that I like very much to play, I'll give you my thoughts. Not only on the job, but in all of western civilization, things are messed up, so I'll propose the human mind. It should be ruled by a mighty, intelligent, and wise lion king, the neshama, but sadly, there is in his place a donkey disguised as the king, it's the arrogance of the stupid low-level brain on a power trip. The donkey/lion gives a hard time to the rabbit and the fox, blaming them, harassing them, and altogether being mean to them; they in turn are totally prey to their own fears. Both of them appear as the contrary of what they really are; they are incapable to advise the king or even to find their own true nature themselves; they represent the shyness/compassion and the cunningness/aggressiveness, and it's no surprise that, if the king is a donkey, human passions are confused and misused, or even worse, one ends up being mighty with the weak and weak with the mighty. The mess is often blamed by the arrogant "self" alternatively on the aggressiveness or the weakness, hence guilt, depression, etc. while in fact their insecurity and their identity crisis and their questioning their own purpose in life could be easily and quickly resolved if only there was a wise king."

Thanks, Danny-girl, for the exquisite and inspiring interpretation.

Yaakov from London writes:

"I reckon the lion is the Soton, the Rabbit is the Tzaddik who helps us to do Teshuva by speaking emuna and da'as disguising his true genius and righteousness, and the Fox is the neshomo caught up in one of best traps of the Soton (as Pharaoh did too), who manages to trick us to never stop think and make an account of what our real goals should be until we cannot rescue ourselves from this quagmire without the help from a tzaddik. May we merit to see the Lion unmasked, soon, amen!"

Yeshe koach for your targeted thoughts, Yankele.

Dov from Western Canada writes:

"It seems obvious to me that the jackass parading as a lion, elected so by the dimwitted jungle animals, is Olmert. The fox that left on vacation despite the lion's warning is the National Religious Party that left the Israeli government, ultimately losing their job as a fox, their real identity, and their homes in Gush Katif and Northern Shomron too. Instead, government propoganda has turned the NRP youth - the settlers - into homeless, jobless miskenim - miserable people - that everybody's chasing. Now, the Haredim - timid rabbits who never had the guts to help Gush Katif (except for the Bostoner and Sedigorer Rebbes, Chabad, and the Breslevers) are now strutting around like foxes inside the government, taking orders from a disguised jackass when they should be taking orders from Hashem."

Thanks, Dov! Miriam (from Atlanta) and Karen (from Jerusalem) wrote almost word-for-word interpretations as yours.

Thanks to everyone for participating.

Interactive Parable: The Rabbit and the Fox

The fox went to the lion, king of the jungle, and complained that he needed a vacation.

Fox: I haven't had a vacation in nearly three years; this jungle is slave labor!

Lion: If you leave the jungle, fox, you might lose your job. The risk is yours...

The fox figured that with his cunning, he can outsmart the boss any day, so he packed his valise, and went to the Spanish Riviera for a month. After sitting on the beach all day long and eating a tray full of arroz con pollo or paella every day, he gained 2 pounds (nearly 30% of his body weight). Homesick, overweight and out of shape, he returned to the jungle.

The first thing on the fox's agenda was a visit to the boss.

Fox: Say hey, boss, I'm back!

Lion: You're a cheeky critter - either call me Your Majesty or get thrown in the slammer...

Fox: OK, Your Majesty, I want my job back...

Lion: Nope, I filled your slot with a different fox. Besides, look at you - you can't be a swift fox with that potbelly you put on.

Fox: C'mon, King - I gotta have a job!

Lion: If you want, I'll take you on as a bunny rabbit.

Fox: What happened to the last bunny rabbit?

Lion: You see, you're too stupid to be a fox! Everybody knows what wolves, jackals, cobras, lions, and tigers do to bunny rabbits...

The fox aka bunny rabbit spent the next three weeks hiding in a cave. He had to wear this stupid bunny rabbit costume, and as soon as he showed his face in public, some beast would try to devour him. Man, what a tough way to make a living!

One day, he had to breathe some fresh air. The cave was stifling. Fear or not, he stuck his head out in the sunlight, and filled his nostrils with the sweet fresh air. All of a sudden, he saw a bunny rabbit in a ridiculous costume with a fat tail, walking upright and with no fear.

Fox: Hey rabbit, how in the heck are you strutting around in broad daylight as if you're Chuck Norris or something; aren't you afraid?

Rabbit: No way, man! Can't you see my uniform? I'm a fox! I ain't scared o' nothin'! Pauses for a moment, and inspects the long fox nose protruding from the bunny mask peering out of the cave. What're you doin' inside that cave? Why don't you come out?

Fox: Are you nuts? Every time I stick my nose out, some beast tries to devour me. This job is dangerous. Stops and thinks for a minute. Say, how did you get to be a fox?

Rabbit: The same jackass of a lion that made you into a rabbit made me into a fox.

******

Questions: Who is the jackass disguised as a lion? Who is the fox disguised as a rabbit? Who is the rabbit disguised as the fox? How would you interpret the above fable?

Send your answers to: rabbit(at)lazerbrody.net . Selected interpretations will be published G-d willing on Tuesday's Lazer Beams.

The Modzitzer's roar

My good buddy Yitz from Heichal Hanegina sent me the following note & story:

Hi Reb Lazer!  Regarding your tobacco/Shabbos post, I'd like to share an incident which I heard from the brother of the one who heard it first-hand.

As you know, I have a connection to Chassidus Modzitz. One of the Modzitzer Chassidim lives in the Lower Galil, on Kfar Gideon, just outside of Afula. As you can imagine, someone dressed in Chassidic garb is a bit unusual to find on the Egged buses in this part of the country. So my friend's brother, R. Avraham, is travelling on the bus; a man spots him and asks him if he's a Gerer Chassid. Avraham says, No, I'm a Modzitzer. So the man says, "nuch besser" - even better - I have a story to tell you about your Rebbe.

Of course by now Avraham's curiosity was piqued, and he was "all ears."
 
  When Rebbe Shaul of Modzitz ZT"L [grandfather of the present Rebbe Shlita] was still in Europe, a young man was seen in his Beis Medrash, smoking on Shabbos! The Chassidim didn't know what to do with this, so they went & told the Rebbe. When the Rebbe, who was a big man - tall and broad - heard this, he began to run towards the man who was smoking. But the man just continued, undaunted, to puff away. When Rebbe Shaul approached him, he said to him, "B'farhesia - in public - you dare to do this?"

Reb Lazer, I've been told that Reb Shaul had a voice like thunder! You can be sure that these words penetrated the very being of this man! How do I know? Read on...

From that day on, the man never smoked on Shabbos. All week long he would smoke, but not on Shabbos. Other than that, he was completely non-observant. He came to live in Eretz Yisrael, and raised his family in one of the secular Kibbutzim in the Lower Galil.

His children couldn't figure it out - this man didn't keep Shabbos, he smoked all week long, yet on Shabbos, Abba never lit up! It got to them so much that they decided to investigate what Shabbos is all about. I probably don't have to tell you that they are fully observant Jews by now - just from that "B'farhesia?" statement of Rebbe Shaul of Modzitz! And yes, the one who told the story was one of these children!

As Reb Shlomo Carlebach used to say, "You never know!"

best regards, yitz

The Princess and the Three Brothers, an interactive parable: Part Two, readers respond

The Princess has received some beautiful advice from all over the world. She expresses ger heartfelt gratitude to all that wrote her, and apologizes that she couldn't possibly answer each of you personally. Here are a representative few of the many superb letters she received:

Alice J. from Atlanta writes: The King is God. His daughter is the soul of Israel, which is in distress and asleep, lacking spiritual consciousness. Three things can help Israel in different ways: The brother who has the optical technology represents the high-tech brilliance for which the people of Israel are rapidly becoming famous, which also brings wealth to the nation; the brother who makes the jet plane represents the nation's awesome IDF which physically protects the actual land and people; but the brother who heals the princess with his medicine, thus ultimately repairing the spirit or soul of Israel, is the most important. If the soul of Israel is healthy, then its people can rid the world of darkness, making the IDF and the hightech, industry irrelevant. The military and wealth have helped Israel and are vital to her existence, but without spiritual health, it's all for naught. Therefore the princess should marry the doctor, allegorical to the spiritual guide that cures her ailing soul.

Indira from New Delhi writes: The son with the telescope is the Christian Messiah, who sees that the world is sick but is powerless to cure it. The son with the jet car is the Islamic Mahdi, who controls the sword and the oil, and spreads more violence and destruction. Only the Jewish Moshiach - the doctor - can cure a suffering and sick world, as signified so brilliantly in the King's (the Creator) daughter. Moshiach will "marry" the world and cure it, and I hope by that time, I will have converted and will be one of the bridesmaids.

Rael from South Africa writes: She marries the one with the telescope, as that led to all the rest. There are many with fast cars/jets, and wonder cures, but the telescope
found her plight, and focussed on her. The story is about Hashem giving us 3 levels of soul - Nefesh Ruach and Neshama. All 3 must work together. But, we must start at the beginning - knowing where we are going.

Tuvia from Lansing, Michigan writes: Dear Princess, I would suggest that you marry the son with the telescope. While the other sons had good characteristics, the son who could see across the world is best. Having the proper vision is a most admirable trait. From Kol Hator and the Vilna Gaon the Vision of Zion refers to the sentence "visualize Zion, the city of our designated times". This means that the designated time of the redemption depends on Zion. It also agrees with the sentence, "to visualize the pleasantness  of the Lord and seek deep undestanding in his Temple".

Shmuel from Modiin, Israel writes: The princess should choose the doctor son for two reasons: 1. Both of the other sons did not study with the strict purpose of
saving lives - unlike the doctor son. In most people's opinions saving lives and curing people is considered a higher form of wisdom than travelling quickly or seeing far. Travelling quickly and seeing far can only improve the 'quality' of a life. However, the ability to apply medicine possesses the higher order of being able to save lives. 2. If the princess has a relapse of her illness the doctor son, as her husband, will be near at hand to cure her a second time. However if she is married to either of the other two sons and falls ill, they may not have the luck of being able to apply their wisdoms to save her a second time.

Elisheva from Paris writes: I think that the princess is Reb Lazer's allusion to the faithful of Israel, who shall inherit the land and merit Moshiach. In that case, judging from what happened in Amona, she better marry the doctor, considering the brutality of the self-hating antisemitic administration that so brutally beat the princesses of Israel.

Zvi Shenkin from the UK writes: Dear Princess,marry the doctor! Do you really need to see from one end of the world to another? Or, do you really feel the need for speed? No, better to choose someone who has a good steady job healing the sick. And besides, have you ever heard a mother-in-law cry out with nachas "My son-in-law the Optician/rocket scientist!"???

Dan G. from Los Angeles writes: Dear Princess, Without the knowledge gathered by all 3 of them, you would not be here today. But, of the 3 sons, the one that seems the best shidduch is the doctor-brother, as he is a fine scholar who will likely continue studies in his discipline, bringing a greater tikkun to your Family.  As with many parents of a young Princess, I also think your father would be very happy with you marrying a doctor, though you may expect your doctor-husband to be learning each evening, as his profession requires life long study. To top it off, from a totally material perspective, I wouldn't be surprised if the doctor-brother gained some expertise in cooking food from the Far East in addition to gaining an expertise in Oriental medicine.  History has shown that regardless of observance, people in your family appreciate fine, authentic Asian cuisine.  Have you checked your family tree to see if those in the Far East are long lost relatives of yours? Will this be an open chuppa?

Chaim from Thornhill, Ontario writes: A tough choice indeed. But the one who learned medicine deserves to be wed. G-d was with the one who went to the East (the doctor). Learning to save a life and actually doing so SAVED THE WHOLE WORLD.  Although the other brothers had a very important place in the story I believe the final step was the hardest. Not only did the medicinal son learn the most vital of knowledge (for where would we all be without learning to preserve life?); but he knew exactly what was causing the princess harm from such a far off place. How could he tell what was killing her? Last but not least the doctor spent the most time caring for his beloved patient. He never asked for anything in return. He showed compassion by watching her symptoms. He slowly treated her so that she would recover properly. Her life was ultimately in his hands.

A Simple Jew from the USA writes: While all the brothers used their G-d given abilities for good, the princess should marry the inventor of the telescope. Of all the things in the world that one could look at, this son noticed the suffering of another human being. Although it may not have been his innate nature to help [like his brother who was the expert in medicinal herbs], it was his caring heart that prompted him to start the process which ultimately led to saving the princess.

Susan from Australia writes: Princess: Ask the brothers if they love and serve HaShem – if one does then marry him. If they all do – cast lots and see which one HaShem has chosen for you.

Tikva from Kansas writes: I am choosing the doctor. The brother with the telescope could see her and the brother with the jet could have gotten him there but they could not help without the medical knowledge. If there had been no telescope they would not have been the wiser. If there had not been a jet they might have found another means to get to her. Without the medicine she surely would have perished.

Michael Winner from Jerusalem writes: Simple. She should marry me. My wife has been begging me for another wife to help her out.

**********

From the above answers, the princess was 98% sure that she should marry the doctor. To be completely sure, she asked the Melitzer Rebbe shlit'a. Here's what he responded: The parable refers to the three partners who bring a human being to the world - the father, the mother, and Hashem. The father and the mother - like the optical expert and the jet engineer - play an important role in the beginning. But, only Hashem - the doctor of the universe - accompanies a person throughout his or her entire life. Just as the princess owes a debt of gratitude to all 3 brothers, we are beholden to both parents and to Hashem our whole lives. But, as Hashem is forever with us, the King's daughter (the divine soul within us) should choose Hashem - the doctor - as her mate for eternity.

Update: The poor jet engineer, nobody voted for him! That is, until now: We've just received an urgent message for the princess from Ted Alper of Palo Alto, California, who writes: Dear Princess, Each of the brothers, on his own, would make a worthy husband. But I think, as a practical matter, the aviator is your best choice. First, note that these three brothers have already shown their compassion and their willingness to work together. This assures you, in the future, the benefit of their services. To have an accomplished healer as a brother-in-law is not so bad! But please consider that, should you need medical treatment in the future, the brother with the plane is best situated to help you. He can bring his brother, the doctor to you, or you to his brother -- and should your future needs outstrip the skills of that doctor, he can bring you to the door of his brother's teachers, or  to the best physicians in the world. WIth him, every pharmacy, every sanitarium, is available to you. The optician can see others needs, but he cannot make others see his -- or yours! The doctor can heal the one he is with, but he is only able to help those he can reach, and only within the limits of his knowledge.  Only the aviator can carry people together, can make the person or things needed be with the one who has the need. In the borei nefashot, we bless Hashem for creating living things with their lacks, and creating the things to fill those lacks. That which you need in this life has been created for you, and the pilot is the brother who most clearly brings you the means for realizing your needs.

Thanks so much to all of you for making this interactive parable such an enjoyable and meaningful exchange of ideas. The princess says you can expect wedding invitations in the mail, soon, G-d willing.

The Princess and the Three Brothers - an interactive parable

A wise father gave each of his three sons a respectable stipend, and ordered them to set out to the far corners of the earth in search of wisdom. After blessing them, he instructed them to return home in exactly three years, each with his respective acquisition.

The three sons arrived home on the appointed day. The first son, having traversed all of North America, had learned how to build a supersonic jetmobile whose cruising speed was Mach 2, or twice as fast as the speed of sound. The second son, having combed the optics research laboratories of Germany and Switzerland, had learned how to build a telescope that could see anything anywhere in the world, even down to the tiniest detail. The third son, during his travels through the Far East, had become an expert in medicinal herbs and all sorts of Oriental therapy for every known ailment.

The father, extremely gratified by his sons' achievements, requested a practical demonstration of their abilities.

The optician son gazed through his telescope to a faraway kingdom. He saw the King and all his court in utter distress; the King's only daughter was withering away on her death bed with some inexplicable ailment. Her end seemed to be near, with no relief in sight.

"What's the problem!", exclaimed the son who had built the jetmobile. "With my machine, we can reach the King in a mere hour!"

"I'll grab my herb-and-medicine bag," said the doctor son, "if we hurry, we can save the King's daughter!"

**********

The three brothers were ushered into the palace. With no other alternative, the King was happy to give anyone a chance to save the princess; time was running out.

The doctor-brother mixed a potion of exotic herbs. First, he passed the aromatic concoction under the princess's nose; she opened her eyes for the first time in days! Second, he fed her a few teaspoons full, and ultimately let her drink the entire glass. Gradually, color returned to the princess's pale cheeks, and her limbs regained their vitality. Within several days, the princess regained her health.

There was no limit to the grateful King's joy. In a royal celebration, he decorated the three brothers with the kingdom's highest medals of honor, and gave them presents of gold and rare jewels. In the middle of the festive thanksgiving meal, the King turned to the princess and said, "My darling daughter, would you agree to marry one of the three wonderful brothers that saved your life?"

"Certainly, Your Majesty," answered the smiling princess, "but which one?"

"Let each of the three brothers state his case, and then you shall choose," replied the King.

The princess agreed. The first son said, "Princess, were it not for my telescope, you would never have been saved. I saw your distress, and alerted my brothers. Therefore, I deserve to be your husband!"

"Not so fast!", proclaimed the second son. "Were it not for my jetmobile, the kingdom would have been mourning for the princess already. I'm the one that got us here in time to save her."

"Ahh," said the third son, "but what good would you two have done if I didn't have the proper herbs and treatments for her? No, I deserve the hand of the King's daughter!"

**********

The King is perplexed; each of the three brothers has a strong claim. Each of the them is handsome, wise, and talented - a befitting son-in-law for any King.

The princess, before she decides, wants you to help her make a decision. Send your advice - which brother you think the princess should marry and why - in an email to: princess(at)lazerbrody.net ; tomorrow, G-d willing, the princess will forward the best representative emails for publication here on LazerBeams. If you want to remain anonymous, then sign with a penname. Also, please include the state or country where you live. On Tuesday, G-d willing, Lazer will publish his advice to the princess, and interpret the above parable.

Serving the same G-d

On Shabbos, the Melitzer Rebbe shlit'a told me the following beautiful story, passed down from father to son from his great great grandfather Rebbe Meir'l of Promiszlan; Keep it in mind before allowing yourself the "luxury" of feuding with a fellow Jew:

Serving the same G-d

Rebbe Meir'l of Promiszlan and Rebbe Yitzchok of Strettin were engaged in a long, drawn-out feud. Knowing that dissension serves no purpose, Rebbe Meir'l approached Rebbe Yitzchok and attempted to make peace. The latter only turned his face to the wall. "Please, Strettinner Rebbe, allow me to tell you a tale," said Rebbe Meir'l, and told him the following story:

During the time of the Spanish Inquisition, a Marrano* suspected of secretly being Jewish became deathly ill. The Inquisitors called the local priest, and told him to go see if the dying man would make last confession, proving that he's a Catholic, or else otherwise be burned at the stake as a Jew. The Priest and the Henchman entered the sick man's room, and the sick man turned his face to the wall, refusing to reject his true faith in Hashem during his last minutes on earth.

The Inquisitors said, "Ahah, he's a secret Jew!" The priest said no, he's embarrassed to confess in front of others. Everyone must leave the room!

Only the dying man and the Priest remained in the room. The priest, a Marranno himself, whispered in the man's ear, "You can say Shma Yisrael now, and express your belief in Hashem before you die. You no longer need to turn your back on me, because we both serve the same G-d." With his dying breath, the Marrano utterred, "Hear O Israel, the Lord our G-d, the Lord is one!"

"So you see, Strettinner Rebbe," said Rebbe Meir'l, "You no longer have to turn your back on me, because we serve the same G-d!" The feud ended on the spot.

*Marranos - the Spanish Jews who posed as Catholics on the outside, and secretly continued to practice their Judaism behind closed doors

Rebbe Nachman of Breslev: 195th Yahrtzeit

On the 18th of Tishrei (today's date on the Hebrew calendar) exactly 195 years ago, Rebbe Nachman of Breslev zatza"l left the physical world at the tender age of 38. Rebbe Nachman is buried in Uman, Ukraine, and his gravesite attracts tens of thousands of people every year.

Rebbe Nachman taught that one must never despair, must always persevere, and should always be happy. In honor of his yahrtzeit, here's one of his many parables that drive home his teachings:

Regaining all Losses

A small-town jeweler lived a comfortable life with a more than adequate income. He had a nice shop in the center of town with a good clientele. One day, before closing, a robber surprised him and stole all the jeweler's gold and diamonds. The loss was tremendous, but not a mortal blow. Unable to pay the rent for the shop downtown, the jeweler decided to open up a low-overhead stand in the rinok (Russian for outdoor market). He moved his family to a smaller house, and managed to make ends meet. After a few weeks of selling watches and costume jewelry, he was able to reinvest in a small amount of gold and diamonds. A day later, the robber surprised him again, stealing the few diamonds, the gold, and the watches.

With nothing left other than virtually worthless costume jewelry, the jeweler moved his family into a one-room cabin and set off on foot to peddle his wares from village to village. One afternoon, while wearily treading along a country road with his meager sack of wares on his back, the robber again appeared and stripped the jeweler of everything.

Desparate to provide for his family, the jeweler collected a few buttons, patches, and needles, and tried his luck as a notions peddler. With no mercy, the robber pounced on him a fourth time, taking the poor peddler's last worldly possessions away.

The peddler, now beside himself, emitted a scream that shook the heavens. The robber's horse bolted, threw the robber to the ground, and then trounced on his head, leaving the robber dead as a doornail. The jeweler-peddler gently approached the horse, and removed the saddle bag; inside were all the diamonds, gold, and jewels from all four robberies. Not only had the jeweler regained all his possessions, but he now had a flashy ebony steed to carry him home.

The Yetzer Hora is the robber. No matter how many times he rips us off, we should never despair and should always make a new start. Whenever life becomes unbearable, all we need to do is to cry out to Hashem, and salvation is on the way!

The road between Uman and Breslev, Ukraine, 2003

May Rebbe Nachman's blessed memory be a guardian angel for all of us, amen.

Count Olivier's Hound

Images on this post copyright (c) 2002 by Anzovin Studio. All rights reserved.

Jewish folklore tells a story about King Charles VII of France. The king had two close ministers, Count Olivier and the Duke of Tremoille. The cunning and corrupt duke was insanely jealous of Count Olivier, and plotted to kill him.

One day, Count Olivier went for a walk in the woods with his trusty hound Denise. The Duke of Tremoille, mounted on a swift steed, staged a perfect ambush; without dismounting, he rode straight toward the startled Olivier and slew him with one fell swoop of his deadly sword.

Denise, forever loyal to his master, remained by his lifeless side day and night. After three days, the hound could no longer bear the hunger. He returned to Paris, to Count Olivier's old neighborhood, and scavenged food and drink. When satiated, he returned to the forest to his master's side. This pattern recurred several times, until a neighbor - Captain DuMont, one of the King's officers and a friend of Olivier - sensed something unusual. DuMont followed the dog back to the forest, and found the decaying corpse of Count Olivier.

Count Olivier received a state funeral. King Charles, the palace honor guard, the ministers, and all of Paris high society came to pay their respects. In the middle of the procession, a wolf-like growl alarmed nearly everyone, followed by a blood-curdling snarl; Denise, walking next to Captain DuMont, spotted the Duke of Tremoille and pounced on him, sinking its jaws into the Duke's ankle.

The Duke yelled and screamed. A host of people pounced on Denise, swatting the poor hound with their silver-tipped canes or with whatever came to hand. Ultimately, the dog let go and was seized by DuMont, who petted the hound and calmed it down.

King Charles, an astute judge of character, witnessed the whole spectacle. "Isn't that Olivier's hound?", asked the monarch. Captain DuMont replied in the affirmative. The King made a quick mental calculation and turned to the smarting Tremoille. "Duke, do you have something you'd like to confess? Possibly an evil deed such as a murder?"

"I-I don't know what you're talking about, Your Majesty," lied the terrified Duke.

"My impression, as well as the hound's, is that you are hiding something from me. So, I will place your word against that of the hound. Your soul shall be tried by the hound's soul. I shall give you ten days to heal, and then, you shall appear in the royal arena for a fight to the death with the hound!

10 days later

The Duke of Tremoille was dressed in armor from head to toe. With sword and bullwhip in hand, he expected to dispose of the hound in a matter of seconds.

The perplexed Denise encircled the armor-clad duke, in search of a tiny area of vulnerability.

A tiny chink between the duke's helmet and his suit - designed to enable neck mobility - revealed itself to Denise. Like a shooting star, he pounced on the duke, knocking him to the ground, and sinking his incisors deep in the jugular of his master's murderer, measure for measure, until the duke gasped for the very last time. The King's justice had been done that unforgettable day.

***********

The above tale is symbolic of a Talmudic passage (see tractate Sota 3b), which teaches that a transgression in this world is forever bound to a person's soul just like an avenging dog. Just as Denise the hound frenzily pursued Tremoille, a transgression produces an accusing angel that demands punishment.

The corrupt Tremoille failed to rid himself from the dog. But, we can rid ourselves of those nasty accusing angels that call for severe judgments against us. How? The process is simple; it's called Tshuva, and requires 4 main steps to neutralize a wrongdoing and to destroy the accusing angel that was created by the wrongdoing, as follows:

1. Vidui - we confess our sin to Hashem;

2. Charata - we express our remorse about what we did, and beg Hashem's forgiveness;

3. Azivas ha'chet - we promise to do our best to avoid repeating the old wrongdoing;

4. Kabala l'atid - we decide to strengthen our observance of Hashem's commandments, especially in the area where we went astray.

Our urgent task before the High Holidays is to devote as much time and effort as possible to soul-searching; Tshuva destroys accusing angels, and invokes Divine compassion so that we all shall be inscribed in the Book of Long and Healthy Life, amen.

The King and the Woodsman: Part 5

An eerie silence pervaded the King's palace. At 3 a.m., only six short hours before the execution, the unnerved King tossed and turned in his bed, distressed to the core of his soul. He refused to believe that Vassily would betray him and the motherland, but what could he do about the evidence? Royal law required that the King approve and sign the final verdict ordering the implementation of capital punishment against a minister. King Gustav smelled foul play, but lacked proof; his conscience berated him not to sign the verdict.

Worse than the turmoil of the King's indecision and insomnia, was the mystery of Vassily's last request, which both the court and the King approved: Vassily requested nothing other than the privilege of being allowed to address the King in public - in the presence of the Palace Guard, the ministers, and the throngs of onlookers - for five minutes while dressed in his old woodman's clothes before being executed. Why the old clothes? What was Vassily going to say? The King continued to toss and turn, until the first light of dawn penetrated his window.

A steady stream of people were arriving at the royal city from the four corners of the kingdom. For many, Vassily was a shining light in a sea of darkness. During his short-lived term as Minister of the Interior, he had helped more underprivileged and disenfranchised citizens than all of his corrupt predecessors combined. As opposed to the peasants, poor, and plain citizens who comprised Vassily's admirers and sympathizers, the carriage-chauffered nobleman were more than pleased to see the common "upstart" executed.

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8:30 a.m: A prison guard opened Vassily's oak and iron-reinforced cell door, and perfunctorily threw inside a rucksack with boots, cap, and old sheepskin clothes. "Prepare yourself," barked the guard, "we leave in ten minutes."

8:42 a.m: The guards remove Vassily from his cell, and excort him across across the main square of the royal city, to the gallows, erected in the center of the square. Tens of thousands of people have arrived to witness the final execution.

8:49 a.m: Vassily, hands and feet bound, is raised to the gallows platform.

8:50 a.m: With the royal executioner waiting in the holds, the chief prosecutor reads the court verdict, and passes it to the King for final signature.

8:51 a.m: The crowd of thousands hushes; the King declares: "Vassily Avramovich Zlotnick, I hereby grant you your final request..."; the King glances at Vassily, dressed in his woodman's garb, and nearly faints. Two officers of the Royal Palace Guard hurry to support the King from falling. The palace physician grabs the King's wrist, but the King reassures everyone that his composure has returned. The monarch inhales deeply and declares, "You are granted five minutes to speak your final peace."

Vassily looks the King directly in the eyes. "Not long ago, Your Majesty, you were lost in the forest, at the mercy of the elements and predators, both of a two-legged and four-legged variety. In the back woods, you were no king, only an object of ridicule and contempt that would soon meet a certain death at the hands of barbarians. Only I, Vassily Avramovich Zlotnick, recognized you. I risked my own life to save yours, yet requested nothing in return. I acted in your behalf before you offered me any reward and remuneration. You, Your Majesty, demanded that I return to the palace with you. Had I been a traitor and an embezzler like Puzhnikov and his patsies say (the crowd gasps), I would have slit your throat, taken your hundred gold rubles, and let your body rot in the woods. No one would have ever found you. But no, Your Majesty; when no one else recognized you or came to your aid, I did. I acted first, with no expectation of personal gain; only afterward, did I hear your promises. Just as I arrived here penniless, I now depart penniless, except for the tens of thousands whom I was able to help during my term of service to the Kingdom, as the masses here gathered can surely attest. No one can rob me of the merit of my selfless service to you and the Kingdom. I go now to my death with a clear and innocent heart, for I believe that truth and justice shall prevail forever, while the real tyrants shall taste their own bitter medicine!"

The crowd erupted like a volcano. Thousands chanted, "Vassily, Vassily, long live Vassily!" or "save him, save him!" Tears streamed down King Gustav's cheeks - there was no denying words of truth. The puzzle came together in his mind; surely, he had been forewarned on several occasions about Puzhnikov's treachery. An attack on Vassily was an attack on the King. Whispering something to the Palace Guard commander, the King raised the court verdict writ high above his head, and ripped it into shreds.

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Vassily was released and restored to his former position with full honors. Puzhnikov, Samenkin, Constantinov, and a score of others were detained by the army, ultimately tried, and convicted.

To this day, if you walk through the woods of Southwestern Russia, you can hear the wind from the northwest blowing through the pine trees and calling softly, "Vassily, Vassily!"

The end

G-d willing, tomorrow's post will be an interpretation of the Elul imagery in "The King and the Woodsman"; if you have your own thoughts, write Lazer at lazer(at)lazerbrody.net, and we'll try to include selected readers' interpretations in the post.

The King and the Woodsman: Part 4

Samenkin executed his duties with surgical precision. He was steel-cold and heartless, a perfect functionary for his superior; neither would have any difficulty disposing of their next of kin for a suitable pricetag. Withing the designated time period, Samenkin had gathered a giant dossier that incriminated Vassily in a score of major crimes, ranging from embezzling funds from the King's coffers and channeling them over the borders to conspiracy and high treason. A master of evil, Samenkin utilized factual circumstantial evidence, including actual times and dates of Vassily's visits to the border villages. On the foundation of several truthful facts, he built a mountain of lies with hermetically-sealed testimony: A host of witnesses were tutored, threatened, and purchased for the task. No one says no to Samenkin.

**********

The King read the writ of accusation from the Head Prosecutor's office. He felt dizzy and nauseous. This can't be true, he thought, reading about Vassily's alleged treachery against the kingdom. But law is law, and justice must run its course.

Cases of ministerial status were tried directly in the High Court. The sinister Pozhnikov bribed, threatened, and maneuvered the judges until his nephew, the pampered Count Constantinov, was named Head Justice of the tribunal that was designated to hear the case. Constantinov was also a carryover of aristocratic spoils; a brilliant thinker and an eloquent orator, he could have been a remarkable judge, had he not fallen into the influence of his uncle. Constantinov though, was perfect for the role at hand. Periodically during the trial, he strategically interrupted the prosecution, stressing salient points and rehashing the false charges and evidence, as if he was only seeking clarification of the facts. Ultimately, he delivered the lies even more eloquently than the prosecution itself.

Refusing to accept the aid of a barrister, Vassily sat alone on the bench of the accused. He listened to lie after lie, yet showed no emotion; only a telltale vein twitched from time to time on his forehead. His jaw was fixed like a block of granite.

The prosecution presented its case for two whole days. Meanwhile, Vassily was placed under house arrest until the termination of the proceedings. On the morning of the third day, High Justice Count Constantinov turned to Vassily and said with pomp formality, "The defense may present its case."

The entire kingdom occupied itself with nothing other than the sensational trial of the woodsman-turned-minister. The courtroom was packed with hundreds of people, yet a tense silence filled the air. All eyes turned to Vassily. Could he pierce the iron bulwarks of the prosecutor's case?

Vassily rose to his full height and looked directly at the supercilious Constantinov. "I shall not waste my breath on unravelling the inconsistencies of the prosecution's case, for it is all lies. You, High Justice, have broken every rule of jurisprudence; truth and justice have alluded this courtroom. It is surely a shameful day for the kingdom when the High Justice argues the prosecution's case for them. You, sir, have obviously swayed your two colleagues. Words of truth are divine; I shan't grace this odious room of lies and distortion with words of truth."

Pozhnikov went beserk, jumping out of his seat next to the Chief of Prosecution. "What insolence! Contempt of court! This is an outrage!"

Constantinov's faced became a flush pink then an ashen white. Vassily's admonition pierced his heart like a saber. He gulped, cleared his throat, and reassumed his peremptory High Justice's manner, and addressed his uncle with an ersatz calm, "Please, calm down Mr. Minister of Internal Security, any contempt of court is dwarfed by the charges at hand. We shall recess for two hours, and then state our verdict.

**********

Two hours later, to no one's surprise, the court reconvened to announce the verdict of guilty on all counts; the sentence - "Vassily Avramovich Zlotnick shall hang by the neck until dead, ten days from today. The accused has the right to issue one request before the execution of sentence."

Part 5, the conclusion of "The King and the Woodsman", will appear in this coming Sunday's Lazer Beams, G-d willing.