I Am That I Am - The Personal G-d

 

 

“Shemot” (names) is the first parashah of the second book (Exodus) of the Chumash (the five books of Moshe). It bears the Hebrew title of the book.

The parashah opens with this verse, “These are the names of the children of Yisrael who came to Egypt with Jacob. Hence, both the weekly parashah and the Book are called “Shemot.” The parashah marks the beginning of a new chapter in the history of Am Yisrael. Ya’akov, Yoseph and his brothers have passed away and the new Pharaoh decides to enslave their descendants who have grown and multiplied.

Names have power. They are the mark our identity. As we have seen, thus far, in the Torah, meanings of names, on many occasions, identify the essence and even predict the destiny of their bearer.

One of the names we are introduced to in this parashah is of the greatest leader Am Yisrael has ever had, Moshe. His name is given to him by Pharoah’s daughter when she finds him floating in a basket on the Nile. Since it is very unlikely that the Princess of Egypt spoke Hebrew, we can presume that she gave him an Egyptian name, Moses, as in Ramses, which, in ancient Egyptian, means “child.” Rabbi Sacks, ZT”L, suggests that “the etymology given in the Torah, that Moses means ‘I drew him out of water,’ tells us what the word suggested to Hebrew speakers.” I beg to differ with the esteemed Rabbi Sacks. Unlike him, I believe that the name was deliberately “Hebrewised” as the thought that the most prominent figure in Jewish history would bear a pagan name was intolerable.

The most enlightening revelation in the parashah, however, is the way G-d introduces Himself, by His Hebrew name, to Moshe. It happens when Moshe encounters the “burning bush” from within which G-d instructs him “to bring forth” His “People, the children of Yisrael out of Egypt” (3:10).

Though his modesty and humility push Moshe to challenge and object to G-d’s directive, he questions Him: “When I come to the Yisraelites and say to them, ‘The G-d of your fathers has sent me to you,’ and they ask me, ‘What is His name?’ What shall I say?”

Ramba”n (Rabbi Moshe ben Nachman), the medieval Jewish philosopher, observes that Moshe knows who is talking to him at the burning bush. Ramba”n also suggests that Moshe probably understands that G-d has many names and attributes through which He interacts with humanity. What Moshe is merely asking, according to Ramba”n, is which of G-d’s spiritual attributes,  or which manifestation of G-d is sending him to fulfill that mission.

G-d’s response to this question is “Eheye Asher Eheye” (3:14). Though literally it says, “I will be what I will be,” it is usually translated as “I am that I am.”

G-d’s answer suggests that He will appear to the Yisraelites as he will appear to them. It is not just a name. It is an attribute that, in its essence, is multi-faceted, multi-layered, boundless, and abundant with energy, one that transcends a universe of time and space, one that is ever present.

Furthermore, what is revealed to us here is a G-d that is personal and accessible, not just a remote one who created the universe. It tells us that there are many ways to reach Him and that each of us can connect to Him and find in Him what we seek.

To crystallize this concept, G-d continues with the original directive he gives to Moshe, in verse 10. In this one, though, He adds another four-letter name to His host of names. That name, or what has come to be known as the “Tetragrammaton” (Greek: tetra- ‘four’ + gramma, grammat- ‘letter’) is referred to in Rabbinic literature as Hashem. These four letters, which are regarded by many Jews as too sacred to pronounce, form the root meaning of the verb “to be” and their original meaning is understood to be “He Who is,” or “He who brings being into being.” That four-letter sacred name has already appeared to Biblical heroes in the book of Bresheet (Genesis) which is further affirmation of G-d’s attributes and qualities rather than just the introduction of another name.

In his book “Sharei Orah,” Rabbi Yosef Gikatilia addresses over 300 names for G-d. He provides a systematic and comprehensive explanation of these names that indicate the various qualities and aspects through which G-d communicates with humans and reveals Himself in the universe.

Therefore, for the sake of clarity and to ensure that the Children of Yisrael fully grasp and internalize the newly introduced and verbalized concept which G-d has just expressed to Moshe, G-d repeats the directive, this time adding the Tetragammaton, “Hashem:”

Say to the Yisraelites, 'Hashem, the G-d of your fathers - the G-d of Avraham, Yitzchak and Ya'akov - has sent me to you.' This is my name forever, the name you shall call me from generation to generation" (3:15).

G-d’s message is clear. This is the same G-d, the G-d of our fathers, the unified One G-d that we daily affirm in the following words of the “Shema”:

                                    " שמע ישראל, יהוה אלוהינו, יהוה אחד"

 "Shema Yisrael, Hashem, Eloheinu, Hashem Echad!” )Hear O, Yisrael The Lord is our G-d, the Lord is One).

Shavua tov.

Vayechi – the Molding of the Future Am Yisrael

 

This week’s parashah “Vayechi,” the last parashah of Bresheet, opens with a brief look at Ya’akov’s life in Egypt and his approaching death.

At the center of the parashah, however, stands the list of the blessings which Ya’acov bestows upon his sons and their offspring. His words can be perceived as an epilogue which sums up the history of the family. His language suggests, on the one hand, that he is offering a prayer or expressing a wish. On the other hand, some of his words can be interpreted more as a reproof or even a curse. Most likely, though, they can also serve as Ya’akov’s last will and testament, a projection, a portrayal or even a prophecy of what lies ahead and what is to become of his sons and their tribes in the future, in general, “Gather around so I can tell you what will happen to you in the days to come” (Chapter 49:1).

Initially, Ya’akov wishes to bless Ephraim and Menasheh, Yoseph’s sons. His blessing to them is the one that Jewish parents grant their children every Friday night. Though Yoseph is also, later, blessed (48:21-22), one may wonder as to why this blessing of all the blessings in the Torah. Rabbi Jonathan Sacks, adopts the answer given by his predecessor, Lord Jakobovitz, who said, “all the others {blessings) are from fathers to sons – and between fathers and sons there can be tension.” According to Jakobovitz, “Ephraim and Menasheh is the only instance in the Torah of a grandparent blessing a grandchild. And between grandparents and children, there is no tension, only pure love.”

Judging by the nature of the blessing to Ephraim and Menasheh, one can view it as Ya’akov’s strive to upgrade their status to that of a “tribe.” In Ya’akov’s own words “Now then, your two sons born to you in Egypt before I came to you here will be reckoned as mine; Ephraim and Menasheh will be mine, just as Reuven and Shimon are mine” (48:5). In other words, Yoseph’s sons become equal in status to that of Ya’akov’s other sons.

This measure or step taken by Ya’akov makes Ephraim and Menasheh not only, officially, part of the tribes. It also doubles Yoseph’s share of the inheritance and, according to some commentators such as Rashba”m and Ramba”n, establishes his rank and prominence as firstborn. They base their assertion on Devarin (Deuteronomy) 21:17 which states that a father should give his firstborn “a double share of all he has,” because that son “is the first sign of his father’s strength.”

The significance of Ya’akov’s words further increases as the parashah brings to closure the theme of sibling rivalry which runs like a golden thread through the book of Bresheet. Rivalry was the reason for tension between Caine who ends up killing Abel. That was the underlying factor in the conflict between Sarah and Hagar resulting in Yishmael and Hagar being banished. Later, we encountered the tensions between Ya’acov and Esav and most recently between Yoseph and his brothers where both cases almost ended in murder.

 Following the death of Ya’akov, the brothers ask Yoseph to forgive them. Their fear that he might avenge them for the wrong that they had done to him is dispelled when Yoseph tells them “You intended to harm me, but G-d intended it for good” (50:20).

“The Torah,” writes Rabbi Sacks, “is telling us an unexpected message here: the family is prior to all else, to the land, the nation, politics economics, the pursuit of power and the accumulation of wealth.”

This was, I believe Ya’acov’s intended legacy and wish for his future generations, the future Am Yisrael. His yearning to ensure that rivalry among his children and their posterity is removed and replaced’ instead, by sharing, love and compassion was the driving force that pushed him to deliver the detailed, eloquent, and powerful monologue on his deathbed.

“That,” according to Rabbi Sacks, “is what Genesis {Bresheet} is about. Not about the creation of the world, which occupies only one chapter, but about how to handle family conflict. As soon as Avraham’s descendants can create strong families, they can move from Genesis to Exodus {Shemot} and their birth as a nation. Rabbi Sacks believes “that family is the birthplace of freedom. Caring for one another, we learn to care for the common good.”

I could not agree more.

Shabbat Shalom, Fellow Jews and a wonderful weekend to all.

Dreamers and Dreams

 

This week’s Parashah, “Miketz,” just like “Vayeshev,” last week’s Parashah, opens with dreams. Dreams and their significance, as we encountered in Ya’akov’s monumental dream, a few weeks ago, are dispersed throughout the Biblical story.

What makes the dreams in this Parashah more compelling, however, is their interpretation and the imminence of their fulfillment in the context of the time in which they occur.

In “Miketz,” Yoseph displays his great talent of solving the dreams of others. In the past, his own dreams were a threat to his brothers and the subject of their mockery, “Here comes the dreamer!” (Bresheet, 37:19). His dreams also spawned their hatred of him and evoked in them the desire to kill him “Come now, let’s kill him and throw him into one of these cisterns and say that a ferocious animal devoured him. Then we’ll see what comes of his dreams.” (37: 20). Unlike his brothers, who were “jealous of him,” Ya’akov, their father, considers Yoseph’s dreams a matter of substance, a futuristic vision which is destined to transpire in the days to come, “but his father kept the matter in mind.” (37: 11).

So, Yoseph, the man who was thrown into the cistern, sold to the Yishmaelites because of his upsetting dreams, eventually rises to power by virtue of the dreams of others which he interprets. His dreams are the reason for his exile. His talent to decipher them gets him out of jail. Most importantly, his wisdom lends excellent counsel based on his interpretation which ultimately earn him the second highest position in Egypt.

A study of the methods of dreams interpretations, in the ancient world, reveals that it was considered a serious and established science. The way Yoseph illuminates dreams, in this Parashah, reflects a systematic familiarity with such methods. For instance, Oneirocriteria, a Greek treatise about the interpretation of dreams, written by Artemidorus of Ephesius, written in the second century, points at the significance of wine in dreams which implies their positive or negative indication. Drinking wine in a delicate and “wisely” way, according to Artimidorus (Oneirocriteria, book 1, 66) is always considered “a good sign.”

Using the same technique, Yoseph recognizes the difference between the two dreams of Pharaoh’s cupbearer and chief baker with whom he shares a prison cell. In his dream, the cupbearer serves the wine in a noble, royal manner, and thus improves his fate. The baker’s dream, on the other hand, in which he does not serve the bread “wisely” and where “the birds were eating them out of the basket on my head,” faces execution. 

Prior to listening to the dreams of the cupbearer and the chief baker, Yoseph asks them, "Do not interpretations belong to G-d?" (40:8). His question suggests that Yoseph believes that dreams deliver a Divine message which G-d conveys through the interpreter. 

It is this unique ability which earns Yoseph his freedom when he is invited to solve Pharaoh's dreams. 

I doubt that there is anyone here who is not familiar with Pharaoh's famous dream where he sees seven well-fed and fat fleshed cows standing by the river followed by the arrival of seven lean fleshed and hungry cows that stand by the plump cows (41:3) and consume them. Likewise, I trust that most are familiar with Yoseph's prediction that the cows represent good years of economic plentitude which will be followed by bad years of famine and hunger.

It is important to note that when Pharaoh recounts his dream to Yoseph, he omits one detail which appeared in his dream and replaces it with his own perception. In the version that he unfolds, he deletes the part where the lean and fat cows first stand alongside each other. Instead, he adds, "And when they had eaten them up, it could not be known that they had eaten them; but they were still ill favored, as at the beginning" (41:21) - the well-fed cows, in this description, disappear without leaving an impression.

Yoseph, in his wisdom and outstanding talent to solve dreams, erases this detail added by Pharaoh which would mean that the seven good years would leave no positive mark. Instead, he interprets the original dream in which the bad and the good cows are placed side by side. Only by acknowledging the presence of the seven good years can one prepare oneself for the subsequent seven bad years.

Pharaoh’s dreams occur in history itself. The Parashah reveals the materialization of the dream, as Yoseph’s states, “What G-d is about to do he sheweth unto Pharaoh” (41:29). In other words, the dream is the revelation of G-d’s plan and the key to understanding the course of history.

Pharaoh who is familiar with the original dream, becomes aware of the latent rigor of its interpretation. He recognizes Yoseph’s wisdom and foresight and is convinced. Moreover, Pharaoh himself, grasps the validity of Divine guidance in our earthly matters, “Forasmuch as God hath shewed thee all this, there is none so discreet and wise as thou art.” Later in the Parashah, he goes one step further and refers to Yoseph as a man “in whom the Spirit of G-d” dwells (41:39). He then sets Yoseph “over the land of Egypt” (41:41) to implement G-d’s outlined plan which Yoseph presents to him, a plan which eventually saves Egypt and its surrounding countries.

The term “dreamer,” as we can see, takes on a new meaning in this Parashah. It is no longer a disparaging label, a Walter Mitty, a mild man with fantasy life. Rather, it evokes appreciation and respect. Yoseph, who was the subject of disdain and mockery by his brothers, turns out to be a blend of vision, a moving force, and a strategic planner with great administrative skills.

 

 

מעשה בדגל

 

במשך שנים רבות התגוררתי בגלות, במספר מדינות. ייחלתי ליום שבו אוכל לחזור הביתה ולחיות את מהותי כיהודיה בארץ ישראל

למרות המרחק והניתוק ממשפחתי, מחברי ילדותי ומארץ אהבתי לא כבה הזיק הבוער בתוכי. "הביתה, הביתה," הייתה הקריאה שהדהדה אל מול קירות ליבי. בכל הזדמנות שעלתה בידי, לחמתי למען ארצי ועמי והגשמת חלום הדורות לחיות בשלום בארץ אבותינו.

מקצוע ההוראה, אשר בו עסקתי במשך שנים רבות בעת שהותי מחוץ לגבולות הארץ היה אחד האמצעים אשר פתחו בפני אפשרויות רבות להגשים את מטרתי זו.

באחד מהפרקים המשמעותיים יותר בחיי, התגוררתי במדינת טקסס שבארה"ב. שם, נפל בחלקי הכבוד הגדול ללמד עברית בבית ספר תיכון אשר יצא לו מוניטין נפלא בכל רחבי המדינה. באופן טבעי, מרבית תלמידי, אשר הצטיינו בהשיגיהם האקדמאים ובכך תרמו לשמו הטוב של בית הספר, היו ילדים להורים יהודים וישראלים אשר רצו לעודד ולחזק את הקשר עם מורשת ישראל באמצאות השפה העיברית.

קירות כיתתי היו מעוטרים בתמונות מארצנו היפה. סמלים המייצגים את תרבותנו, חגינו ומועדינו הוצגו לראווה לעיני כל. אף דאגתי שדגל ישראל יתנוסס בחלון כיתתנו לתפארת מדינתנו.

בחדר הסמוך לכיתתי לימדה מורה אשר מוצאה מקנדה. רעיון הדגל המתנוסס בחלון כיתתי קסם לה והחליטה לאמץ אותו.עלה המפייל האדום על הרקע הלבן בחלון חדרה לצד תדמיתו של ה"כוכב היהודי,"  כפי שהגדירו אותו חברי למקצוע, הכחול, אף הוא, על רקע לבן, חיו זה לצד זה בשלום ובדו-קיום ראוותי זמן מה.

האידיליה בין השניים נקטעה באיבה ובאופן הצובט את ליבי עד עצם היום הזה.

בוקר בהיר אחד, קרא לי המנהל לחדרו ומסר לי שמספר דיירים בקרבת בית הספר התלוננו על כך שעליהם לקום בבוקר למראה דגל ישראל, מראה אשר מטריד אותם. המנהל בקש שאסיר אותו מאזור החלון ואעביר אותו למקום אחר בכיתתי.

מיד הבינותי את מקור הדרישה. סמל הקשור לעם, לתרבות ולמסורת עתיקת יומין עורר, מאז ומתמיד, ועל לא עוול בכפו, את אותן מפלצות שנאה אשר גרמו לשפיכת דמים שמלאה את נהרות ההיסטוריה היהודית. למרות שקבלתי את הוראתו (וכי עמדה בפני ברירה אחרת?), חוש הצדק והדרישה לשיוויון התקוממו בי ובחוצפתי הישראלית והלגיטימית במקרה הנ"ל, ולמרות שידעתי מראש את התשובה, בכל זאת שאלתי את המנהל אם תגובת אותם דיירים הייתה זהה למראה הדגל הקנדי אשר התנוסס בחלון הסמוך.

כמובן שלא.

תחושת הכאב, ליבי המתכווץ, הבלוטה ההולכת ותופחת בגרוני שכמעט חנקה אותי וים הדמעות שפרץ מעיני בעת שהסרתי את הדגל המסמל, עבורי, את כל אותם עקרונות אשר עליהם גדלתי ולאורם חונכתי, אלה שלמענם לחמתי ואותם לימדתי את תלמידי, עדיין, שנים לאחר מכן, מלווים אותי. למדתי שלמרות שהינני אזרחית אמריקאית, כיהודיה, אין זה הבית הלאומי שלי וכי עלי לקבל את מרותם ולחיות על פי כללי ההתנהלות של אותם אשר בקרבם  בחרתי לחיות.  באותו רגע גם הפנמתי את התובנות כי אם ברצוני לחיות כבת חורין ולהפגין את לאומיותי בראש חוצות, ללא חשש וללא פגיעה ברגשותיהם של הסובבים אותי, אוכל להגשים משאלה זו אך ורק בביתי, "בארץ ציון וירושלים."

אז שבתי הביתה!

מסתבר שזו לא בדיוק המציאות אשר לה ייחלתי לאחר למעלה משלושים שנות העדרות.

לפני למעלה משבוע, התעוררתי לקריאת השכמה כואבת ונוראה שהרעידה אצלי את אמות הסיפים. בתאריך ה-17.11  העלתה חברת הכנסת גלית דיסטל אטבריאן הצעה לתיקון חוק המועצה להשכלה גבוהה לפיה, "מוסד ציבורי להשכלה גבוהה שלא יניף את דגל המדינה כפי שמחייב חוק הדגל ייקנס ויופחת ממנו 10% מתקציבו השנתי." כמו כן, מבקשת הצעת החוק להוסיף לחוק הדגל "את החובה להניפו לא רק על בניין המנהלה הראשי של מוסדות להשכלה גבוהה אלא גם בכניסה הראשית לכל קמפוס של המוסד." הצעת החוק נדחתה.

גיגול קצר ומהיר של הנושא הראה כי במדינת ישראל קיים "חוק הדגל והסמל" אשר התקבל בכנסת בשנת  1949     החוק קובע, בין היתר, את הכללים להנפת דגל המדינה ולהצבתו. על פי חוק זה (סעיף 3), יונף הדגל על בניין המנהלה של המוסדות להשכלה גבוהה.

סעיף 2א לחוק שהתווסף ותוקן בתיקונים מס' 2 משנת התשמ"ז – 1986,  קובע את החלת חובת הנפת הדגל והצבתו  "על בניין המנהלה של המוסדות להשכלה גבוהה." סעיף 3 בחוק אף הוא תוקן, התשנ"ז - 1997 ונתווסף לו סעיף קטן (א) הקובע כי דגל המדינה יונף "על הביניין הראשי או בחזית  הביניין הראשי של מוסד חינוך מוכר כמשמעותו בחוק לימוד חובה, תש"ט – 1949 ."

יתר על כן, בשנת התשנ"ז -1997, הועברה בקריאה שלישית הצעת חוק (פ /13 /629), חוק הדגל והסמל (תיקון הנפת הדגל במוסדות לימוד) של חה"כ לימור לבנת.

החוק פותח במילים, "בכל הכיתות של מוסדות החינוך היסודיים, העל-יסודיים והאקדמאים במקום שייקבע ע"י הנהלת המוסד יונף דגל ישראל. מטרת החוק היא לנהוג כבוד, להגביר את  המודעות לערכים, לסמלים, לערכי המדינה ולשמליה במוסדות החינוך. זה מקובל גם בדמוקרטיות מאוד גדולות, בארה"ב ודאי. ראיתי זאת גם בפריז וגם במקומות אחרים. אני חושבת שהעובדה שבמדינת ישראל, למרות שבמהלך השנים כבר היו תיקונים אחדים לחוק הדגל והסמל, הנושא של מוסדות החינוך לא נפתר."

בתאריך 29.5.2001, דיווח עיתון "הארץ" כי על פי חוזר מנכ"ל אשר נשלח למנהלי בתי הספר כשבוע קודם לכן, "על כל בית ספר, המוכר כמוסד חינוכי מתוקף חוק לימוד חובה, להניף את דגל ישראל בחזית. החוק," מוסיף "הארץ," תקף כמעט לכל מערכת החינוך: בתי הספר הממלכתיים והממלכתיים-דתיים, בתי הספר הערביים ואף מרשת מעיין החינוך התורני של ש"ס, או בתי הספר המשתייכים לחינוך העצמאי של אגודת ישראל. החוק מחמיר מאוד עם סרבני הנפת דגל המדינה וקובע עונש של שנת מאסר אחת לעבריינים."

למרות התיקון בנוגע להחלת חובת הנפת הדגל במוסדות להשכלה גבוהה אשר, כאמור, התווסף בשנת התשמ"ז -1986, נראה שאכיפתו עדיין אינה מתבצעת בכמה מהמוסדות הללו. זו הסיבה, כך מסתבר, העומדת מאחורי הצעת החוק של ח"כ דיסטל-ארטביאן.

באותה מידה שחה"כ ליבנת קבעה החמרה עם סרבני הנפת הדגל במוסדות חינוך המוכרים ככאלה מתוך חוק לימוד חובה, כך מבקשת חה"כ דיסטל-ארטביאן  אכיפת התיקון לחוק הדגל אשר הועבר ב-  1986 בתוספת ציון העונש הכרוך בסרוב לביצוע החוק. בנוסף לקנס, היא מציעה הפחתת 10% מתקציבו של המוסד אשר אינו פועל על פי הוראות חוק הדגל.

כמו כן, מבקשת הצעת החוק להוסיף לחוק הדגל את החובה להניפו בכניסה הראשית לכל קמפוס של המוסד להשכלה גבוהה ולא על בניין המנהלה בלבד.

כפי שציינתי, החוק לא עבר.

ואני לתומי, חשבתי שחזרתי הבייתה, לבית הלאומי של בני עמי היקרים, הבית אשר לו ייחלנו, כעם, במשך אלפי שנים ובהם אני, "הקטנה והדלה באלפי מנשה," אשר, לחזור איליו, כמהתי במשך עשרות שנים.

Vayishlach - the Art of Diplomacy

 

After over twenty years of absence, the decision has finally ripened in Yaakov, and he is preparing to leave his father in law’s home in Padan Aram and move back to resettle in the Land that G-d has promised him and his posterity. During the years that he was living with Laban, Yaakov flourished, built a strong family, amassed wealth, and many assets. Now, he is ready to legitimize his status as primogeniture and fulfill his calling as a son of the Covenant.

That major step, however, is cloaked with distress and much concern for him. There is still one issue that needs resolving, his strained relationship with his estranged brother, Esav, who vowed to kill him for having stolen his birthright. As much as Yaakov is looking forward to meeting his brother, the fear that Esav might launch a war against him hovers over his head. He does not want to kill, nor does he want to be killed.

Yaakov who is determined to go ahead and meet Esav, elects to use a three-pronged approach. The first step he takes is in the form of appeasement. He sends Esav gifts of cattle and flocks and instructs his messengers to tell Esav that: “it is a present sent unto my lord, even unto Esav; and behold, he also is behind us.” (Bresheet 32:19). Furthermore, in verse 21, Yaakov expounds and adds to his message, “Moreover, behold, thy servant Yaakov is behind us. ‘For he said: ‘I will appease him with the present that goeth before me, and afterward I will see his face, peradventure he will accept me.” It could not be more obvious that Yaakov’s hand is stretched out for Peace.

The second plan that Yaakov conceives of will be echoed many centuries later in the immortal words of the Roman Military expert, Vegetius, “Si vis, para bellum” (If you want Peace, prepare for war). While aiming for peace, Yaakov is preparing for the possible eventuality of a war with his brother. “And he divided the people that was with him and the flocks and the herds, and the camels, into two camps. And he said: ‘If Esav come to one camp, and smite it, then the camp which is left shall escape.” (32:8-9). Yaakov is splitting his household into two camps to ensure that, at least some do survive if a war does break out.

Finally, as a true son of the Covenant, Yaakov puts his trust in G-d through prayer. He reminds Him of His promise to watch over him and multiply his seed. (32:10-13).

When Esav and Yaakov eventually meet, both brothers seem to have transformed, through character development, into mature men who have learned to respect each other and put family before everything else. They part ways in peace and continue with the course of their lives.

The Midrash explains that the conflict between the brothers started already in their mother’s wombs (Bresheet 25:2). It was over the inheritance and control of the two worlds, this world, the corporal one, and the world to come, the spiritual world.

The Mahara”l of Prague dwells on this issue in his book, “Netzach Yisrael” (The Eternity of Yisrael). He claims that Yaakov was born with the inherent tendency towards the world to come, while Esav’s natural inclination is towards the physical world. The latter came into the world a fully physically developed newborn (with hair). Yaakov came out holding Esav’s heel. He, apparently, needed Esav’s support and was dependent on him. Esav’s descendants, the Mahara”l explains, feel at home in this world and reside in peace, alongside it. They have a stronghold in it which allows them to determine where war and peace should nest.

Unlike Esav, the core and the role of Yaakov and Am Yisrael (the children of Yaakov whose name changes to Yisrael, later, in this Parashah), continues the Mahara"l  is spiritual. Their task is to improve the world and build the House of the Lord. It is, therefore, only a matter of courtesy to seek permission from Esav, the one who controls the corporeal, earthly world prior to entering to make changes in it.

Even though G-d promised the Land to Yaakov and his future generations, Yaakov still seeks Esav’s consent and permission to enter it, as reflected in this his week’s Parashah. Yaakov’s future generations will, likewise, need the approval and the back of Esav’s offspring, concludes the Mahara”l.

This, as it turns out, is, indeed, the case through our Jewish history. Each time our People wish to pursue our yearning desire to leave the diaspora to join the Family of Nations, we seek the approval of the representatives of Esav.

The next time we encounter such an effort is when Am Yisrael leaves Egypt and is about to enter Eretz Yisrael, the Land that was promised to them. In that instance, they seek permission from Edom (named after Esav).

Similarly, after the Babylonian exile, Cyrus, the Persian King, issued his renowned Declaration. It granted and authorized the right of the Jews to return to Zion and build the Second Temple.

In modern times, we detect the same course. Did not Herzl, the founder of Political Zionism, bounce from one world leader to another, from the Sultan of the Ottoman Empire to the Kaiser, king of Prussia to seek permission from a great power to support his idea to establish a Jewish Homeland? Did not Chaim Weitzman approach Lord Balfour with the same request, an encounter that produced the Balfour Declaration and later, the San Remo Accord which decreed the rights of Jews to build their National Home in Eretz Yisrael, their ancestral Homeland?

Yes, that is our forefathers’ legacy to us. What a great privilege it is to be part of a nation, a culture that abides by international laws, engages in the art of diplomacy in a manner that dignifies not merely its members but also displays respect and courtesy towards those who are in power, in a mere effort to seek approval for what has already been rightfully ours.

Shabbat Shalom Fellow Jews and Am Yisrael and a wonderful weekend to all.

Yaakov's Dream, a Reassurance of Divine Providence

 

I remember reading, once, an anecdote about two friends who were competing over who would tell the biggest lie. “I was in the museum and saw the axe with which Caine killed Abel,” said the first. “That is nothing,” retorted the other, “I was in the museum and saw the ladder which Jacob saw in his dream.”

In many cultures, the image of the ladder signifies the links between Heaven and Earth, Spirit and Matter and the Metaphysical and Physical spheres of our existence. There are those who believe that not everyone has the capabilities nor the readiness to experience or conceive of a journey between these two realms. They presume that it is reserved to a very select few and when they least expect it.

This week’s Parashah, Vayetze, shares with us one such episode. It recounts the famous dream Yaakov experiences on his way from Canaan to his uncle’s home in a faraway land, as he is trying to escape the wrath of his brother, Esav.

Needless to add that Yaakov’s circumstances are far from soothing. They are rather bleak. He is alone and vulnerable. He is in an unfamiliar terrain with an uncertain future. One cannot even start to fathom what goes through his mind as he falls asleep on the cold ground under the canopy of darkness, using a stone for a pillow.

Shortly thereafter, the most unexpected vision appears to him. “And he dreamed and Behold! A ladder set up on the ground and its top reached to heaven; and behold, angels of G-d were ascending and descending upon it.” (Bresheet 28:12).

As a child, I remember wondering why the “angels of G-d” appeared to be ascending the ladder and only then descending it. Later, I was introduced to Rashi’s explanation of this verse. According to him, the ascending angels are those that accompany and protect Yaakov while he is within the borders of Canaan (the future Eretz Yisrael). The descending ones, explains Rashi. are the ones who are going to escort and guide him on his sojourn outside of the Land.

The dream itself, its meaning and its purpose engaged the minds and the imagination of many artists and poets around the world. They were also the subject of interpretations of many of our Jewish sages.

I tend to think that the purpose of the dream is mainly to comfort Yaakov, reassure him and strengthen his trust in G-d.

Yaakov, I believe, is not only concerned about his physical safety through his journey. He is also worried about being spiritually forsaken by G-d Himself. His apprehension, it would seem, stems from the conviction prevalent among Jewish scholars that Eretz Yisrael is unique in the sense that the connection with G-d and His worship can be expressed better within its borders and stands several levels above that which is practiced outside of it. Rabbi Ovadia Sforeno, for instance, suggests, in his commentary to Bresheet 11:31, that the reason Terah left his home to move to Canaan (prior to God’s decree to Avraham) was because the Land was known as a place for acquiring and improving mental faculties.

Similarly, during the famine years in the days of Yitzchak, G-d commands him not to leave Eretz Yisrael even though the latter wants to follow in the footsteps of Avraham, his father, and go down to Egypt. G-d appears to Yitzchak and tells him not to leave the Land. The Midrash, Bresheet Raba, Chapter 64, section 3, depicts it as an indication that Yitzchak, in his purity and because of his virtue, should serve as an example to clinging to the Land even during famine times.

The belief that G-d can be worshipped only in Eretz Yisrael is also echoed in the famous verse in Psalms 137:4, “How can we sing the Lord’s song in a strange land?”

The “changing of the angelic guards,” as Rashi interprets their ascension and descension on the ladder, may, likewise, serve as a hint that the angels of G-d who escort Yaakov through Eretz Yisrael, could not leave its borders for the same reasons listed above.

These, might, also, be the concerns of Yaakov as he is on the verge of despair, shortly before he has a constitutive experience via a dream. In it, he is elevated, through a metaphorical ladder to a reassurance from G-d Himself: “I am with you and will watch over you wherever you go, and I will bring you back to this land. I will not leave you until I have done what I have promised you.” (Bresheet 28:15).

Rabbi Sacks, as always, offers a very interesting perspective to this episode. He claims that the “verb used at the beginning of the passage, ‘He came upon a place,’ in Hebrew vayifga ba-makom, also means an unexpected encounter. Later,” continues Sacks, “in rabbinic Hebrew, the word ha-Makom, ‘the Place,’ came to mean G-d. Hence the poetic way the phrase vayifga ba-makom could be read as ‘Jacob happened on, had an unexpected encounter with G-d.”

With restored confidence that the Shechinah will never desert him, Yaakov wakes up from his metaphysical experience to the mundane world which lies at the foot of that magnificent visionary ladder. What he “realized when he woke up from his vision,” Rabbi Sacks tells us, “is that G-d is in this place. Heaven is not somewhere else, but here – even if we are alone and afraid – if only we realized it. And,” concludes Sacks, “we can become angels, G-d’s agents and emissaries, if like Jacob, we have the ability to pray and the strength to dream.”

Sacks’s message, I believe, is that if wish it, we all have the power to see, in our dreams, the ladder that Yaakov saw in his.

Shabbat Shalom, Am Yisrael and fellow Jews and a wonderful weekend to all

Primogeniture

 

One of the topics of this week’s parashah, “Toledot,” addresses is the rights of the Firstborn. In the Tanach, as was the case in the ancient Levant, those rights referred only to first born males.

“Primogeniture” is the Latin term that describes such practices. It reflects the right, by law or custom, of the firstborn male child to inherit the family estate, in preference to their siblings.

Some of the stories in the book of Bresheet surround the status of the Firstborn. We read about Cain and Abel competing over G-d’s approval of their respective sacrifices. We follow Sarah’s worries over Avraham’s inheritance, doing all that is in her power to ensure that it will go to her son Yitzchak rather than to Yishmael, his eldest son from Hagar. In this week’s Parashah, we encounter the struggle between Yaakov and his older brother, Esav, over the Birthright and the blessings of Yitzchak, their father.

In all three of the above examples, it seems that the Torah rejects the practice of primogeniture, which was prevalent in ancient times in the region, favours the younger sons and elects to endow them with that right. What, one may ask, is the purpose of such a, rather revolutionary, step?

In the first account, the decision was made by G-d. He chose Abel’s sacrifice over that of Cain.

In the case of Isaac and Yishmael, however, that preference of the former is embedded in the legal norms of that era, as reflected in the Hammurabi Code of Law, and which pertain to the inheritance rights of the son of a maid/slave, the status of Yishmael, Hagar’s son. That is this issue which is at the core of Sarah’s concern.

Article 170 of the Code states that if a man’s main wife bore his children as did his maid, the father shall bequeath all he owns to the children from his main wife, during his life. If the father passes away without declaring his rightful inheritors, his assets will be divided between all offspring regardless of who their mother was. Hagar was never the legal wife of Avraham. Sarah was. Hagar was a maid and a servant who bore a son to Avraham when Sarah thought that she was barren. Yishmael, though the eldest, was never the legal heir of Avraham. Sarah was his wife and Yitzchak, the younger son, was the legal heir.

In order to understand the choice of Yaakov over Esav, it is important to add that the term primogeniture, sometimes, also entails succession to power and office and not merely rights to tangible possessions. In other words, the Firstborn right can be onerous, demanding and carry responsibilities - a dutiful task suited for only a few selected ones. In early times, the Firstborn would substitute the father and was honoured accordingly. In ancient Egypt, for instance, Firstborns were revered and worshipped like gods. Hence the significance of the tenth plague, the plague of the Firstborn since according to our sages when G-d avenges upon a nation, He initially avenges upon its gods.

It is indeed true that when Yaakov asserts “I am Esav, your Firstborn,” (Bresheet 27:19) he not only lies, but he also commits fratricide and condemns Esav to oblivion both as a human being and his rights to inheritance as well.

Several Jewish commentators offer various justifications for Yaakov’s lie. Isaac Abrabanel, for instance, suggests that Yaakov lamented to Esav that the latter was never around the house, always roaming in the fields and not fulfilling his duties as the Firstborn while he, Yaakov, had to attend to their sick father, feed him and Esav when the latter returned from his hunting. According to Abrabanel, Yaakov went even further to suggest to Esav that if he were not ready to assume that role, he would gladly take his place and feed him as should the eldest brother address the needs of the younger one. Esav, explains Abrabanel, pondered in his heart and decided that he was better off relinquishing those duties. Yaakov took them upon himself and promptly offered Esav bread and lentil soup, as would the Firstborn do to his younger sibling.

Rabbi Shmuel Ben Meir (Rashba”m) provides a different rationale. According to him, Esav was willingly renouncing his Firstborn right claiming that his hunting activities often put him in harm’s way. Therefore, he reckoned, there was no point in him waiting for his father to die to qualify for that right.

Finally, Rabbi Sacks, who bases his interpretation on Rashi, suggests that as much as Esav tried to deceive Yitzchak, the latter “was not deceived as to the nature of his elder son. He knew what he was and what he was not. He knew he was a man of the field, a hunter, a mercurial in temperament, a man who could easily give way to violence, quickly aroused to anger, but equally quickly, capable of being distracted and forgetting. He also knew,” concludes Rabbi Sacks that Esav “was not the child to continue the Covenant.”

It is, therefore, not by accident that Yitzchak preferred Yaakov over Esav.

This week’s Parashah teaches us that leadership should not necessarily be granted to the Firstborn son but rather to the best one.

Shabbat Shalom

Vayera – A Lesson in Hospitality, Manners, and Personal Relationships

 

This week’s Parashah, “Vayera” recounts two stories. The first stresses Avraham’s humanness and kindness which is rewarded by the blessed promise of eternity. The second shares the tale of the wickedness and evil acts of the people of Sedom and Amorah followed by their punishment.

I elected to dwell on the first part which, I feel, has not been accentuated enough. I did it in the hope that its message and lesson will emanate and continue to fill our universe with every blessing.

The opening scene of the Parashah describes Avraham sitting at the entrance to his tent when G-d appears to him. The text mentions that it was an especially hot day. The purpose of G-d’s visit or what is being discussed is not mentioned. Some commentators suggest that G-d is performing the Mitzvah of “Bikur Cholim” (visiting the sick) to check on Avraham’s recovery after he had circumcised himself at the advanced age of ninety-nine (Chapter 17).

Suddenly, Avraham notices three men standing at a distance as if deliberating which way to turn. Avraham does not yet know that they are messengers (mala’chim) of G-d, nor does he know the purpose of their visit. To him, they are nothing but three strangers who seem stranded and lost. Nevertheless, despite his age, his, still, delicate physical condition, and the heat, he runs towards them, bows down, invites them into his tent and offers them food, drink, and respite.

Avraham’s words in Chapter 18 verse 3 “If I have found favour in your eyes, my Lord, do not pass your servant by,” can be interpreted, according to Rashi, in two ways.

The first, and most important, can be viewed as Avraham’s speaking to G-d with the intent of showing his respect to Him. G-d’s visit should be of top priority and attended to first. After all, it is not everyday one gets bestowed with such a great honour and such a privilege. To neglect G-d and attend to unfamiliar people would be rude and show lack of mannerism on the part of Avraham. He, therefore, excuses himself and apologizes to G-d before attending to the strangers.

There is, however, another angle of looking at this verse. This one points at Avraham’s hospitality and generosity. Avraham is almost begging the strangers to be his guests and enter his modest abode where he and Sarah welcome them warmly and affectionately. While Sarah is preparing and baking bread, the Torah tells us that Avraham “ran to the herd and selected a choice, tender calf and gave it to a servant, who hurried to prepare it. He then,” the account continues to share with us, “brought some curds and milk… and set these before them.” (18:7-8).

Moreover, as we are told, “While they ate,” Avraham, “stood near them under the tree. Now, do not Avraham’s conduct and attitude display the epitome of kindness?

But it is not only towards G-d and strangers that Avraham and Sarah show respect and thoughtfulness. They also demonstrate it towards each other, as the Parashah continues to unveil to us.

When the messengers ask to see Sarah to announce to her that she will bear a son in a year’s time, Sarah, who “was listening at the entrance of the tent, which was behind him…….laughed to herself as she thought, ‘After I am worn out and my lord is old, will I now have this pleasure?’” (18:10,12).

Evidently, Sarah did not know that G-d had already shared this news with Avraham earlier. In Chapter 17, G-d tells Avraham, “I will bless her and will surely give you a son by her.” (Verse 16). Upon hearing that, “Avraham fell face down; he laughed and said to himself, ‘will a son be born to a man a hundred years old? Will Sarah bear a child at the age of ninety?’” (Verse 17).

Both Avraham and Sarah respond by first describing themselves as old and worn out and only then mention that their respective spouses endure a similar existence. They assume responsibility for their condition first and do not point a blaming finger at the other, an instinctive trap that so many of us fall into easily. What a blessed connection and bond they share. What a wonderful example for a marital relationship, or for that matter, any relationship.

May we all continue to be blessed through Avraham, the father of many nations and Sarah, the mother of Am Yisrael our Jewish People.

Shavua tov, fellow Jews and a great week to all.

Shivah – Paying Homage to The Living, Not the Dead

 

Special thanks go to Roger Froikin for his assistance and advice.

Many of us have heard the Hebrew term “Shivah” (seven) which is the first stage of mourning in Jewish tradition. The others include, the first thirty (“Shloshim”) days counting from the burial and the one-year period from the day of death.

 Shivah is the course of the seven days (or less if interrupted by a Holy Day or Shabbat) following the burial of a family member. This custom had existed even before the giving of Torah and can be traced to Bresheet 50:10 where Yoseph declared seven days of mourning following the death of Ya’akov, his father.  The Jerusalem Talmud states that it is an enactment of Moshe, “just as Moshe enacted seven days of rejoicing after marriage, so, too, he enacted seven days of mourning (shivah).” (Jerusalem Talmud, Ketubot 1:1)

Unfortunately, some, especially some of our fellow Jews, as I found out, merely a few days ago, are vaguely familiar with or understand, the depth of the concept and its purpose.

A dear friend shared with me that when her late father passed away, it was her mother’s wish that they refrain from sitting Shivah following his burial. Naturally, I raised my eyebrows and before I was able to utter a word, she added, “It is ok, we, immensely, respected him, anyway.”

As a staunch believer in practicing liberties, especially Freedom of choice, I elected to remain silent. I was, however, deeply disturbed by her lack of knowledge and comprehension of the intent of such a practice.

It is important to note that once the Shivah begins, it is the mourners who become the focus of attention. Naturally, these are not easy days. The grief of the loss of a dear one is heart wrenching, emotionally and physically draining and takes a toll on the ones close to the deceased. It is during such times that the community is there to support them, help them and comfort them.

In Judaism, it is a Mitzvah to visit friends and relatives who are sitting Shivah. A Mitzvah is not merely a “good deed.” It is not something one is supposed to do just because Torah tells us to do. It is an act that is intended to do good to its performer. Supporting a relative, a friend or an acquaintance who is in need is a sign of true friendship.

Comforting the mourner, however, does not mean distracting them from the misfortune that they had been through. Being surrounded with visitors who through talking and speaking about the loved one they lost provides the mourners with soothing help and assistance in the healing process and the reconciliation with reality.

Most importantly, The practice of Shivah is aimed at aiding to restore and support a healthy psychological response to mourning and loss. This period serves as a distraction from the negative emotions of the mourning stage that the remaining family members must endure. It removes them from the regular daily duties and responsibilities of life.

Judaism is not the only faith that adheres to such a practice. Other peoples and other cultures have evolved similar effective means of dealing with the loss of loved ones.

There is plenty of research conducted in the last seventy years which links such a practice with good post-loss mental health, social adjustment, and job effectiveness.

So, we should continue to respect the dead, honour them, pay them homage, and continue to act in accordance with the lessons they have taught us in love.

But we need to remember that the custom of “Shivah” is for us, The Living, more than it is for them, the dead.

Shavua tov to all. May we all be blessed with abundant health and a long life.

United They Stand, United They Thrive

 

The many beautiful flowing hills, immersed in different shades of green and endowed with various crops have earned Rwanda the title, “The Land of a Thousand Hills.”

It is not, however, the natural beauty of this country where I have recently visited, to which I wish to dedicate this article. It is rather the magnificent people, this united nation of beautiful people, which have overcome one of the saddest chapters in world history, that has captured my heart and soul. It is dedicated to them

I want to pay tribute to the nation that was able to surmount, in a little over a quarter of a century, profound animosity, division, schism, bloodshed, and horrific carnage which branded its essence for far too long. It reached a crescendo in what has come to be known as the “Rwandan Genocide,” the fourth largest genocide in the history of mankind, which took place in April 1994. There were two main factors which served as precursors that fomented that heinous atrocity.

The first, the historical one, traces the roots of the conflict, as in many other places around the world, to the colonial era. Until its independence on July 1^st, 1962, Rwanda was under Belgian rule.

However, to grasp the background for the genocide that took place, one must be familiar with another factor, the demographical core of this small nation in East Africa. Rwanda is fundamentally a tribal society in its essence. It comprises of three tribes. The biggest one is the Hutu which constitutes 85% of the Rwandan population. The second is the Tutsi tribe, totaling about 14%. The third one, a relatively small one, is the Twa, which, as some claim, are the original inhabitants of Rwanda and are related to other forest tribes of Central Africa.

Though some maintain that the Tutsi tribe originated in north Africa, Ethiopia perhaps, based on physical traits that differ from that of the Hutus, culturally, there is little difference between the two.

The split between the Hutu and the Tutsi arose, initially, because of economic difference. The Hutus were farmers. The Tutsis tended livestock. They both speak the same language, intermarried, and lived amicably alongside each other for many years.

That, however, changed with the arrival of the Belgian colonial administration granted by the League of Nations mandate after World War I.

The favour shown to the Tutsis under the Belgian trusteeship between 1916-1961, “intensified the animosities between the two peoples,” (https://www.britannica.com/topic/Tutsi). The Tutsi “were given privileges and western-style education.” The Belgian, as it turned out, “used the Tutsi minority to enforce their rule.” In 1926, the Belgians even went as far as introducing a system of ethnic identity cards differentiating Hutus from Tutsis.” (https://www.pbs.org/wgbh/pages/frontline/shows/rwanda/etc/cron.html). The Tutsi retained their dominant position over the Hutu, not without opposition from the latter, until 1961.

Following the Belgian withdrawal from Rwanda, chaos took over. Occasional fierce guerrilla warfare between members of the two tribe, some of which drew support from neighbouring states, continued to plague the country. It claimed both Tutsi and Hutu victims.

With an eye toward settling the sanguinary conflict, peace negotiations between the feuding parties commenced, on July 12^th, 1992, in Arusha, Tanzania. The “Arusha Accords” were signed on August 4^th, 1993.

Unfortunately, the peace agreement was short lived. On April 6^th, 1994, the plane carrying the then Rwandan president, Juvenal Habyarimana, was shot down as it was approaching the capital Kigali. The identity of the perpetrators remains a mystery. Nonetheless, both sides blamed each other.

That regrettable event was the firing shot of the "Rwandan Genocide.” Radio broadcasters fanned the flames and urged Hutus (who were physically shorter than the Tutsis) to “cut down the tall trees.”

Within one hundred days, about one million people were brutally murdered. Most of them were Tutsi.

All this was happening as the “enlightened" world stood from afar, watched and did nothing, absolutely nothing!

The incompetent U.N. Security Council issued a resolution condemning the killing while, conveniently, omitting the term “genocide.” Had the word been used, the U.N. would have been required to intervene.

Today, almost thirty years later, the nation of Rwanda, under the great leadership of President Paul Kagame, has managed, against all odds, to overcome and heal its once divided and fractured world. It stands united under the invisible yet coalescing banner which proudly proclaims, “I am neither a Hutu nor a Tutsi. I am a Rwandan!”

Shabbat Shalom

A Memorable Dream

 

               “A good dream is a good gift.” – Reuven Alcalay

               “Dreams do not die if they bloomed once in your soul.” – Jacob Fichman

All of us dream, at least once in our lifetime.

Some remember their dreams, others forget. There are those who visualize the same dream repeatedly and there are those whose dreams are etched on their brains. Such dreams can be either haunting or comforting.

The one I am about to share with you belongs to the latter group.

My late father passed away in 1994. As I have mentioned more than once, he was a very constitutive figure in my life.

A Shoah survivor, who came out of the abyss, my father was what I would call a “Tzdik” (a righteous man). He never drifted from his faith in G-d. Every Shabbat, after coming back from the synagogue, instead of resting, he taught me G-d’s Torah and the wise words of our Jewish elders.

During the week, my father, who owned a small butcher shop, would get up at the crack of dawn, harness his horse to his cart, take chickens to the slaughterhouse and ensure that they are all ready and prepared by the time he opened his shop.

That, however, never stopped him from acquiescing to my request to stay with me a little longer on days that I had tests, review and go over the material with me, to ensure that I am ready for them. I drew so much comfort from his support and invigorating patience.

On Fridays, he would keep his shop open, albeit not for profit. Friday was a charity day. All that was left over from the week went to those who needed to prepare a Shabbat meal yet could not afford to pay.

Following a fall which left him debilitated, he spent his last days on this earth in a hospital. He was in his 90’s.

When the call bearing the sad news of his passing away arrived, I drove like a mad woman to the hospital. His body was still warm when I kissed his forehead and whispered to him, “Dad, G-d has prepared a special place for you next to His Throne of Glory.” I could swear he was smiling at me, for a split second.

Fast forward to September 1996.

I was then on my way to New Zealand. I briefly fell asleep on the plane. That is when the most awe-inspiring dream occurred.

In it, I saw my father. He was all skin and bones and naked, save for an ivory-coloured piece of cloth covering his groin. He was standing on stairs ascending to an unknown place and facing me who was at the bottom of them. His weak body was so fragile that he was supporting himself, with his right hand, on a rail that was connected to nowhere. He slowly raised his left hand, and waved goodbye to me.

Suddenly, from behind him, a very bright light glared, flashing brightly and powerfully. It blinded me. It also woke me up from my reverie.

I was calm, and I was happy. Somehow, I knew that my father had finally reached that special place which G-d prepares and reserves for the selected ones only.

Rest in Peace, abba.

My first grandson, may he live a long life, is named after you. Your legacy will always stay with us.

Shabbat Shalom

Ha'azinu, Moshe's Farewell Poem

 

                   “The story of the Hebrew Bible as a whole…..is of a progressive withdrawal of divine intervention and the transfer of responsibility to human beings.” – Rabbi Jonathan Sacks

In this week’s Parasha, Ha’azinu, Devarim (Deuteronomy) 32, Am Yisrael are about to enter the Promised Land. The desert era is nearing its end, and Moshe is at death’s door. From now on, they are on their own. Moshe knows them well. He has experienced their impatience, faithlessness, and dependence on him and, of course, on G-d. For forty years of wandering in the desert, they have been provided with food and water. For forty years their complaints were heard and addressed while they repeatedly demanded to return to Egypt when they lost trust in G-d.

Moshe, like any great leader, the magnificent teacher that he has been to them, is, naturally, worried about what lies ahead, a new land with unique and very different circumstances than what they have been used to.

These concerns prompt him to compose his final speech in the form of poetry which he delivers poignantly, reminding Am Yisrael of their unending Covenant with G-d. In a passionate fashion he enlists the heaven and earth as his eternal witnesses, hoping to provide Am Yisrael with the essential means to complete that hard, yet very important journey upon which they are about to embark.

There are two vital concepts which Moshe’s poem stresses. The first is the importance of memory. The second is what Rabbi Sacks refers to in the quote above as “G-d’s call to responsibility.” Retrospection is a crucial phase which should precede and eventually lead to accountability.

Moshe reminds Am Yisrael of the eminence of G-d and what He has done for His People. “Remember the days of old, consider the years of many generations; ask thy father, and he will declare unto thee, thine elders, and they will tell you” (32:7). He urges them to recall G-d’s dedication to them, “As an eagle that stirreh up her nest, hovereth over her young, spreadeth abroad her wings, taketh them, beareth them on her pinions” (32:11). “Is He not thy father that hath gotten thee? Hath He not made thee, and established thee?” (32:6)

And this is where accountability enters the equation. Rabbi Sacks echoes Moshe’s words, “G-d is our father,” says Sacks, “He made us and established us. But parents,” he adds, “cannot live their children lives.” At some stage, the umbilical cord that connects them to their parents needs to be cut off and they need to learn to live on their own. As Rabbi Sacks further suggests, when that time comes, parents “can only show them, by instruction and love, how to live.”

What, then, is a better way, than the Torah, to instruct Am Yisrael how to live a rewarding life?

Before he steers Am Yisrael to the Torah as the source of instruction and guidance, Moshe admonishes and warns them against expressing any future ingratitude to G-d in return for all the good He has done for them. “But Yeshurun [poetic name for Yisrael] waxed fat, and kicked—thou didst wax fat, thou didst grow thick, thou didst become gross—and he forsook G-d who made him and contemned the Rock of his salvation” (32:15).

After a long sequence of the words and terms of the Covenant, reproof, encouragement and blessing, Moshe concludes his words and directs Am Yisrael towards the Torah, its laws and moral code, all of which were given to them, not for G-d’s sake but for their sake. The Torah is the way to enjoy a good and long life, he reminds them. Following its guidelines will help them in shaping their own destiny and ensure that they remain free, the fundamental desire of every human being.

“But with freedom comes responsibility,” concludes Rabbi Sacks.

And that is the ultimate message of Moshe’s final song.

May we all savour the gift of Life and enjoy a meaningful, productive, and fulfilling life in the coming year and always.

 

“We Shall Ascribe Holiness to This Day”

 

The titular quote is derived from a Hebrew Piyyut (liturgical poem), “Unetaneh Tokef,” recited by Jews on Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur.

As a child, I remember joining my father to attend Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur services. I also recall the tears rolling down my father’s cheeks when this prayer was recited. It was then that I began to grasp its solemn meaning and magnitude.

In it, Judgement Day is described in a succinct and powerful way. The depiction of G-d, the ultimate judge, sitting on His bench examining our deeds and ruling on our fate for the coming year, sends shivers through the body and soul of the faithful.

Though some suggest that the piyyut was written before the tenth century C.E., others attribute it to Rabbi Amnon of Mainz (11^th century).

According to the account, Rabbi Amnon was urged by the bishop of Mainz to convert to Christianity. He requested to be given three days to consider the bishop’s offer. Soon thereafter, Rabbi Amnon regretted not having refused the proposal for apostacy promptly and did not appear at the bishop’s place on the agreed time.

When he was finally brought, against his will, in front of the bishop, Rabbi Amnon requested that his tongue be cut out for not refusing to convert instantly. Instead, his limbs, which did not bring him on the set time, were chopped.

When he was brought to synagogue on Rosh Hashanah, he asked to pray and at that time composed the piyyut.

Despite the intense message of this prayer, G-d is still described as the merciful judge who recognizes the weaknesses of human beings. The poem juxtaposes the ephemeral nature of our existence as opposed to G-d’s perpetuity. Unlike G-d who has “no limit to His years,” “no end to” His years and “no measure to the hosts of” His “glory,” we, humans, are “like dry grass, a withered flower,” a “passing shadow and a vanishing cloud.”

G-d, the benevolent, understands the fragility of humans and as the piyyut suggests does provide us with hope and allows us to avert the harsh decree of the penalty of death. He, as always, gives us another chance.

According to our wise sages, three things can avert G-d’s ruling, “prayer, charity and repentance.” (Bresheet Rabba 42:12). All three, according to Rabbi Yudan, in the name of Rabbi Elazar, are mentioned in one verse, “When My people, who bear My name, humble themselves, pray [prayer], and seek My ways [charity] and turn from their evil ways [repentance], I will hear in My heavenly abode and forgive their sins and heal their land.” (2 Chronicles, 7:14).

May we have a good year, Am Yisrael and fellow Jews, a year of repentance, abundant with good deeds, forgiveness, and the healing of our fractured Jewish Homeland.