100 Days Without a Drink (A Small Attempt at קדושים תהיו ) - Rav Bendavid, Kehillat Shivtei Yisrael

I've decided that for the next one hundred days, from now through Simchat Torah, I'm going to stop drinking alcohol. This is not because alcohol is forbidden, nor because I think everyone else should do the same. In fact, this isn't really about alcohol at all. Alcohol simply happens to be the area in which I've decided to challenge myself. To be clear, I don't drink very much alcohol in the first place, it's simply an area where I've decided to challenge myself because I think it raises larger questions about the culture we live in, the values we want to cultivate, and the example we are setting for our children. I've become increasingly uncomfortable with something that I see not only in the broader culture, but in our own community as well. We are not immune to the forces around us. We live in a general culture that increasingly revolves around consumption, stimulation, and partying. More food. More drink. More entertainment. More kiddush. More clothing. More shopping. A bigger and fancier simcha…More of everything. And at moments like this, I think it is worth stepping back and asking: Who are we, and what are we about? What is a healthy life balance? I remember when I was growing up, there was a small kiddush club in B'nai Yeshurun in Teaneck. Four or five older men would gather around a bottle of pink schnapps that probably cost four dollars. Today, partly because we are blessed with greater prosperity and partly because our tastes have become more sophisticated, the bottle is Glenlivet 18. The question isn't really about whisky. It's whether we've lost some sense of proportion. Whether we've forgotten how to say, "This is enough." Whether we've become so accustomed to excess that we don't even notice it anymore. Whether we have crossed lines that aren't really consistent with our values simply because everybody around us is doing the same thing. And perhaps most importantly, what are our children learning as they watch us? They learn not only from what we teach, but from what we celebrate. What picture of adulthood are we presenting to them? What does it mean to celebrate? What does it mean to have simchah? The Ramban famously writes that a person can become a Naval Birshut HaTorah. Holiness is not only about avoiding what is forbidden. It is also about exercising restraint with what is permitted. The Rambam writes in Hilchot De’ot that when a person sees themselves drifting too far in one direction, it can be helpful to move temporarily in the opposite direction in order to restore balance. This can be true on a societal level as well. When everyone moves in one extreme, move in the opposite direction. That's all this is for me: a small attempt to restore a sense of balance. Part of my motivation is educational. I want my children to see that it is possible to have a good time without alcohol being at the center of the experience. You can have a tisch, a chaburah, a Friday night meal, or even watch the World Cup without needing a drink in your hand. Friendship is what matters. The Torah is what matters. The conversation is what matters. I also think that many of us have been carrying a tremendous amount over the last few years. COVID. War. October 7th. Miluim. Anxiety about Israel and the future of the Jewish people. Iranian Ballistic Missiles. Trump’s maddening chaos. These are real burdens and there is nothing wrong with relaxing and enjoying life, but I don't think that consuming more, partying more, or constantly seeking distraction is the answer. For me, this is simply an attempt to strive for a little more kedushah. To be a little more deliberate. A little less dependent on comforts. A little more in control of my choices. Maybe in one hundred days I'll conclude that it made very little difference, but I think there is value in occasionally stepping back and reassessing. Who are we? What are we about? Are we becoming the people we want to be? And what values are we teaching our children? If this idea resonates with you, if you've also been wondering whether we've become a little too comfortable with excess, then perhaps consider joining me. One hundred days. A small challenge. A small attempt at קדושים תהיו