An old man goes to the synagogue and prays, every day, thusly: “God, let me win the lottery. Please, just one big win. I’ll give money to the poor, and live a righteous life. . . . Please, let me win the lottery!”
For years, he comes to the synagogue, and the same prayer goes up: “Let me win the lottery! Please, Lord, won’t you show your grace, and let me win the lottery!”
Finally, one day, after fifteen years of this, as the man mutters, “The lottery, Lord, let me win the lottery. . . ,” a golden light suffuses the sanctuary, and a chorus of angels singing a major C chord is heard. The man looks up, tears in his blinded eyes, and says, “Lord . . . ?”
And a deep resonant voice rings out, “Please . . . would you please BUY A TICKET already?”
A kindly old man died peacefully and found himself resurrected in the middle of a country road. And behold! Running toward him was his favorite dog! He knelt and embraced his long lost pet in tearful reunion. After some time, the dog seemed anxious to walk the road in what seemed to be the direction of the rising sun. The man followed.
Before long, they came to a fence of wrought gold, with pearly gates, behind which there stood mansion upon mansion. The gatekeeper, a tall man in flowing white robes, greeted the man, and welcomed him to enter.
"But what exactly is this place?" said the man, who had been a lifelong agnostic.
"This," said the gatekeeper, is Heaven. But there are no dogs allowed. So you'll have to leave your dog outside. We have a strict no-pets policy."
The man stood in confusion for some moments. His face became grim. "No thanks," he said. "I'll take my chances with my dog."
For a long time, the man and his dog wandered down the road. At last they came to an unpretentious farming community with no fences or gates of any kind. What appeared to be a contented old farmer was sitting on a stool next to an old-fashioned hand operated water pump. The dog ran up to the farmer, who petted him, and gave him some water.
"Where is this place?" asked the man.
"This is Heaven," answered the farmer. "It's all around you. You've been in it, or at least the outskirts of it ever since you died."
"But that fellow back yonder behind the pearly gates said that place was Heaven." replied the man.
"Nah, that's Hell," replied the farmer. "We leave the entrance there to weed out the hypocrites who'd leave their best friend behind."
The man at the counter of a bakery noticed a small boy standing by the front of the bread display. He has been standing there for a few minutes.
Curious, the man asked the boy, "What are you doing there?"
"Nothing, I'm just enjoying the smell of the newly-baked cinnamon bread," the boy replied.
"You can't do that. Get lost!" the man said in a loud voice.
"Buy why? I'm not bothering anybody," the boy protested.
"You're bothering me. Besides the aroma of the cinnamon bread is not free - you have to pay for it," the man said angrily.
"How much is a cinnamon bread?" the boy inquired.
"One dollar each."
The boy took out a five dollar bill from his pocket and held it up close to the man's face.
"How many do you want to buy?" the man asked
"I don't want to buy any. I just want to pay for the aroma of the cinnamon bread with the smell of my dollar bill," the boy replied.
A priest, a minister, and a rabbi are playing poker when the police raid the game.
Turning to the priest, the senior officer asks: "Father Shaunessy, were you gambling?"
The priest turns his eyes to heaven, murmuring "Lord, forgive me for what I am about to do." To the police officer, he then says, "No officer, it was just a social game."
The officer then asks the minister: "Pastor Fredrick, were you gambling?"
Again, after a message to heaven, the minister replies, "No, officer, I was not gambling."
Turning to the rabbi, the officer again asks: "Rabbi Goldschmitt, were you gambling?"
Shrugging his shoulders, the rabbi replies: "So with whom would I be gambling?"
I shall not continue with my studies of sacred texts he said. I live in a small house with my brothers and parents, and never have the ideal conditions for concentrating on that which is important.
Nachman pointed to the sun and asked his disciple to place his hand over his face, in order to hide it. The disciple obeyed.
Your hand is small, yet it can completely cover the power, light and majesty of the great sun. In the same way, the small problems manage to give you the excuse you need in order to hinder your progress along your spiritual journey.
Just as your hand has the power to hide the sun, mediocrity has the power to hide your inner light. Do not blame others for your own incompetence.
About two hundred years ago, the famous Chassidic Rabbi, Zushia of Anapoly lived a pious, simple and God fearing life.
In a rabbinical college, near to rabbi Zushia, two students were studying the Talmud. They got puzzled about a statement (Berakhot 54a, 60b Mishnah (9:5)) that said:
"A person must bless God for the bad just as one must bless God for the good"
Thanking God for the good, that's understandable and reasonable, but thanking God for the bad? That didn't make any sense.
So they went to the dean of the college for an answer. Th dean stroked his long beard and pondered the question. "This..... is a question that only Rabbi Zushia can answer. Go to his house and ask him!"
The students decided to go immediately. Rabbi Zushia lived outside of the town. They walked beyond the town's limits and entered into the wooded forest. Following a narrow path, they soon arrived at a run-down shack that was Rabbi Zushia's abode. The windows were broken, the roof looked in need of repair and the walls were badly cracked. As Rabbi Zushia greeted them and led them in, they saw the abject poverty in which Rabbi Zushia lived. The chairs were wobbly and few. The other furnishings were shoddy and in poor repair.
Rabbi Zushia apologized for not having any thing to offer them to eat but perhaps a glass of hot water would be sufficient.
The students explained that they had come to ask him this question. "Why does it say in the Talmud that we must thank God for the good as well as the bad?"
Rabbi Zushia asked them, "Why come to me to ask me that question? I also can not understand it. Nothing bad has ever happened to me. Is it possible that God does anything bad?"
