Sukkot and Pesach -Two Facets of Jewish Epistemology

 

    

Pesach represents the love of G-d for his people. Sukkot represents the love of the people                                                                               for G-d." - Rabbi Jonathan Sacks ZT"L

  

Many years ago, I was watching an episode of “The People’s Court” with the late Judge Wapner. It was about a lawsuit presented by a person who lived on Malibu beach. His issue was with his Jewish neighbour who decided to erect a “hut,” during this time of year. The “hut,” he claimed, blocked his view of the ocean.

In his ruling, Judge Wapner gave the defendant one week to remove the “hut.” Everyone was satisfied with his decision.

Naturally, being Jewish, Judge Wapner knew the reason for erecting the “hut.” He knew that the suspicious “hut” is called a “Sukkah.” Having been raised in an orthodox home, he was aware of the commandment calling upon us, Jews, “Speak to the people of Israel, On the fifteenth day of this seventh month and for seven days is the Feast of Booths (Sukkot) to the Lord.” (Vayikra-Leviticus 23:34).

Now that we know the commandment, let us take it one step further and provide the reason for celebrating the Holy Day. The answer is provided in Vayikra 23:43,

“So your descendants will know that I had the Israelites live in temporary thatched huts when I brought them out of Egypt. I am the Lord your G-d.”

Clearly, Sukkot, just like Pesach, commemorates the Exodus from Egypt. As the Torah tells us, throughout the wanderings in the desert, Am Yisrael was living in huts or sukkot.

Some believe that since both Pesach and Sukkot commemorate the same event, the Exodus from Egypt, they should be celebrated at the same time.  After all, it could be much more pleasant to have a Seder outdoors, in the Sukkah, during Springtime when Pesach occurs, than in the Fall when Sukkot takes place.

The question as to why Sukkot is observed separately and why it was set to take place at this time of year, Fall, engaged many Jewish scholars.

Rabbi Yaakov ben Asher, also known as “Baal Haturim,” explains that during the spring and summertime, many people tend to sit under an awning or in a shade to protect themselves against the rays of the sun. Had we built Sukkot during Pesach, we would not have been able to discern as to whether we sit there for the sole purpose of performing a Mitzvah or merely for our own pleasure. However, when the rain starts and people generally seek cover in the comforts of their homes, we elect to go out and sit in the Sukkah to demonstrate that we perform G-d’s commandment.

The Vilna Gaon offers another explanation. He believes that that Sukkot is the time when the clouds of reverence returned to wrap Am Yisrael after they were removed subsequent to the sin of the Golden Calf.  The Gaon asserts that soon after his descent from Mount Sinai, Moshe decreed the building of the Mishkan. Upon commencement of its construction, there was reconciliation between G-d and Am Yisrael and the clouds returned. The Holy Day of Sukkot was solemnized to commemorate that moment in our history.

In my opinion, there is an educational component in separating Pesach and Sukkot on the Hebrew calendar. As mentioned above, a golden thread runs through these Holy Days. On both, Torah charges that we should stress the importance of teaching our children and our future generations the significance of freedom from the house of bondage. On Pesach, we are commanded, “And you shall tell your son in that day,” (Shemot, Exodus 13:8-9). A similar decree, as we saw above, is given regarding Sukkot, “So your descendants will know…” A lesson of such immense prominence needs to be reinforced and repeated lest we forget it.  Spacing its review every seven months, which is the span of time between the two Holy Days, is one way to ensure its absorption and retention.  

 The late Rabbi Sacks, quoting Rabbi Akiva, offers yet another explanation as to why Sukkot is celebrated in the Harvest time. According to him, the answer lies in the prophecy of Jeremiah who states,

“Israel is holy to G-d,

The first fruit of His harvest.” (Jeremiah2:2)

Just as during Sukkot,  “the Israelites celebrated their harvest,” states Sacks, “so G-d celebrates His – a people who, whatever else their failings, have stayed loyal to heaven’s call for longer, and through a more arduous set of journeys, than any other people on earth.”

Hoping and praying for better days.

Am Yisrael Chai 💖

Yom Kippur and Yisraeli Democracy

 

Yom Kippur is the holiest day on the Jewish calendar. I doubt that many will disagree.

For me, Yom Kippur bears a unique significance for a few reasons. It was a tradition in my family ever since I can remember. Its reverence vibrates in every part of my essence. In addition to its piety among our Jewish Holy Days, Yom Kippur also bears poignant sadness as it brings to the surface memories of the Yom Kippur war and its painful losses.

The observance of this sacred day is commanded in the Torah, in Vayikra (Leviticus 23:28-320: “You shall not perform any work on that very day…. and you shall afflict yourselves.” Furthermore, G-d warns that any disobedience will be followed by severe punishment and any person “who will not be afflicted on that very day, shall be cut off from its people. And any person who performs any work on that day, I will destroy that person from amidst its people.”

This, a few millennia old, directive, sounds appaling and scary, does it not? What a menacing scenario - the embodiment of theocratic dictatorship, so it seems.

The inevitable and eminent enforcement of that commandment is what some have tried to warn us against for close to a year. Yisrael, they keep parroting, is going to turn into a replica of Iran, G-d forbid.

Not quite.

On the Eve of Yom Kippur, as I was making my way to services in a nearby makeshift synagogue, dressed in white and immersed in the cloak of holiness, I watched my many fellow Yisraelis who were flocking the traffic free streets. While some were, like me, observing that commandment, others were playing with their children who were riding their bikes, some of which were electrical and enjoying themselves. A few were busy texting or speaking on their mobile telephones. Some were wearing shorts and dressed casually. I even noticed one or two drinking water out of plastic bottles. As I walked past them, I wished them “Chatima Tova,” the traditional greeting on that day. They responded in kind.

Having been warned, repeatedly, that religious dictatorship was upon us, I was surprised to see that none of the “disobedient” souls were scolded, stoned, or destroyed. My hawk eyes were searching for the secret “dress code police” ready to arrest the culprits. Alas, to no avail.

What I did sense, though, is what the late Rabbi Jonathan Sacks termed as “The Dignity of Difference.”

As I approached the place of worship, I noticed many other folks entering it. They were young, they were old. They were dressed in the customary white attire while others were wearing torn jeans. Some women even entered it with their bare arms and shoulders exposed.

No one stopped them. No one scolded them. No one denied them entry, and no one sent them back home to change their garments. Surprisingly enough, even here the “theocratic dress police” was nowhere to be found.

“The Dignity of Difference,” was welcoming all who sought to pray indiscriminately.

Upon entering the room, as I always do, I seek a place in the women’s section (generally front row) and make myself comfortable. I personally prefer separate sections for men and women. Is it because of habit? Perhaps. Whatever the reason, I love it.

Before anyone jumps at me on that point, let me interject and add that separate seating for men and women is not the only setting available in Yisrael. A childhood friend of mine who wishes to sit next to her partner during prayer, elects to attend a reform synagogue. We continue to respect each other and accept our respective choices. Each to their own.

Indeed, there are those of us who continue to practice “The Dignity of Difference.”

Some parts of the service also include chanting. As a former singer, it is perfect for me. From what I know, some religious sectors bar women from joining in the invocation. They base it on Halachah. It is their choice and a difference that needs to be dignified. Exclusion of women is what a few elements in Yisrael have been warning and threatening us against. As I was singing, I stealthily checked around the hall in search for hints of the covert secret “religious police” lest its representatives come and arrest me for practicing my freedom of chanting.

Instead, “The Dignity of Difference” was smiling at me from every corner.

What did, however, catch my attention, admittedly for the first time, even though I have attended Yom Kippur services for many years, is one line, part of “Kol Nidrei,” a prayer which ushers in Yom Kippur. “Kol Nidrei” (All Vows) which is recited in Aramaic nullifies the binding nature of promises and vows in advance. They are declared invalid. All vows “are absolved, remitted, cancelled, declared null and void.” The line that struck me and sent shivers through my body is the one offering forgiveness to the entire congregation of am Yisrael and EQUALLY “to the stranger/foreigner who resides amongst them.”

Now, you tell me, dear readers, if that is not the epitome of “The Dignity of Difference.”

“The Dignity of Difference” amid members of any nation as well as towards the strangers amongst them is one of the most important pillars of any democracy. It is part of the Jewish D.N.A and is evident in almost every aspect that characterizes the modern-day State of Yisrael, the National Home of the Jewish People. Yom Kippur is but one example.

It is noteworthy to mention that the group which sets up these makeshift synagogues is “Herzliya Torah Center” (Garin Torani) headed by Tsachi Weiss. Tzachi and his team have been doing it for several years thus making participation in the High Holy Days accessible to all who wish to partake in them. The service is conducted by residents of Judea and Samaria who leave their homes and families during this special time of year to bestow upon us the blessing of the experience.

And what an experience it has been.

Chatima Tova to you, fellow Jews and Am Yisrael and a wonderful year to all.

 

 

Yisrael is not only a Jewish State, first and foremost, it is also Democratic

 

“The Jewish tradition carries very powerful democratic genes.” – Fania Oz-Salzberger

As many here are probably aware, the state of Yisrael is currently undergoing some turbulent times. Part of the public debate that has been raging surrounds the question of whether Yisrael, the National Home of the Jewish People, should give up its Jewish essence to maintain its democratic core.

We hear repeated calls to make the state “Jewish and Democratic.”

And that, dear readers, is precisely what Yisrael is and has been since its inception.

I doubt that there is anyone who would ever not associate Yisrael with Jews. Surprisingly enough, the Jewish substance of the state was decreed by gentiles, not Jews.  Lord Balfour, for instance, was one. In his famous Declaration of November 2, 1917, called for the establishment of a “National Home for the Jewish People” in Eretz Yisrael which, in those days was, also known as “Palestine.”

Then came the San Remo Accord where The Supreme Council of the Allied Powers, which acted as an International Court of Law echoed his call, in article 22 of the “Covenant of the League of Nations” of April 25^th , 1920. That resolution has been anchored in International Law.

The final stamp of approval for what was to become a Jewish state was U.N. Resolution 181 of November 29^th, 1947. It called for the partition of Eretz Yisrael into an Arab state A  N  D  a Jewish state. Yisrael is the name of Jewish state. It has been a Jewish state and will continue to remain that way, de Jure (by law/right) and de Facto (in effect).

The language of Yisrael’s Declaration of Independence which, I trust, was carefully crafted, reinforces, and repeatedly mentions that what lies at the heart of the nascent state is its Jewish essence. Already in its first paragraph, the Declaration mentions the “eternal Book of Books,” our Tanach, our code of ethics that teaches us the values of justice, equality, and freedom which we shared with the world.

These values were constantly preached by our prophets. They are the guidelines that have dictated the objectives of the newly established State, as mentioned in the Declaration “…it will foster the development of the country for the benefit of all its inhabitants, it will be based on freedom, justice and peace as envisaged by the prophets of Israel.”

What are those values? What was the ultimate message of the “Book of Books” and the “Prophets of Israel?”

The decree to equality, do justice and ensure freedom runs like a golden thread throughout the Tanach, the “Book of Books.”

The concepts of justice and equality are stressed already in the Book of Bresheet (Genesis 18:18-19) where G-d proclaims “…. Since Abraham is to become a great and populous nation and all the nations of the earth will be blessed through him. For I have signaled him out that he may instruct his children and his posterity to keep the way of the Lord by doing tzedakah and mishpat (justice and law) …..”

“Justice, justice you shall pursue,” commands us the Book of D’varim (Deuteronomy 17:20). It is one of the cardinal obligations of Judaism. In the Torah portion of Shoftim (judges), we are commanded to “Appoint judges and officials for” our “tribes…. and they shall govern the people with due justice. You shall not judge unfairly,” we are told (Deuteronomy 16:18). “The Hebrew Bible,” claims Rabbi Dr. Bradley Shavit Artson, “possesses a passion for justice for the poor, the weak and the despised…. We betray a broad heritage of the Torah,” he continues, “when we fail to recognize justice and righteousness as primary religious categories of Judaism.”

The Tanach focuses on the weak and oppressed by referring recurrently to the “orphan, widow and foreigner” for a reason. A human society is measured by its attitudes towards the powerless. The care and the compassion that the “Book of Books,” the Torah and then the prophets display towards the under privileged of society is probably one of the reasons it has been translated into every possible language. The constant appeal to the advantaged members of society to feed the hungry and the disadvantaged is an appeal to one’s conscience and is justified as either a religious obligation (“I am G-d” Psalm 46:10), a historical rationale (“For you were strangers in Egypt” Deuteronomy 10:19), as carrying an eventual reward (“your days may be prolonged” Deuteronomy 5:16)or, sometimes, a social one (“So they may rest as you” Deuteronomy 5:14).

All these prove that Judaism and the principles of Democracy go hand in hand.

The word “democratic” is not mentioned in Yisrael’s Declaration of Independence. However, the social and “democratic gene” which manifests itself in the values of the “Book of Books” as its basis, the moral values of liberty, justice, and freedom, the pillars of any democracy, which the Declaration espouses were the guiding principles for the founders of the State.

One of the goals of the newly established state, as the Declaration states is to “Ensure complete equality of social and political rights to all its inhabitants irrespective of religion, race or sex: It will guarantee freedom of religion, conscience, language, education, and culture; it will safeguard the Holy Places of all religions; and it will be faithful to the principles of the Charter of the United Nations.” The Declaration further appeals to “the Arab inhabitants of the State of Israel to preserve peace and participate in the upbuilding of the State on the basis of full and equal citizenship and due representation in all its provisional and permanent institution.”

The mere fact that such noble social and economic principles coupled with the ongoing quest for justice and the continuous deliberations over the best form of government which are sewn all over the Tanach, the "eternal Book of Books" formed the basis for Yisrael's Declaration of Independence, points to the undeniable fact that democracy is part of the DNA of the Jewish State. 

Saltzberg further asserts that in modern Yisrael today, "anyone pretending that Judaism and democracy are incompatible traditions and that Yisraeli "society must decide between the two is showing a certain measure of historical ignorance. Not only," she claims, "are Jewish and democratic elements of its statehood compatible, but they have been influencing one another for well over 2,000 years."

A Little Known Part of the Shoah

 

The following is an English translation of a Face Book post of Mr. Haim Taib. It was written a few hours before he, along with his family, partook in the “March of the Living” in Auschwitz' last week.

 

“In a few hours, I will have the privilege to participate in the “March of the Living” in Auschwitz and light, for the first time, a memorial torch in commemoration of the glorious Tunisian Jewish community which was conquered by the Nazis and suffered anti-semitic persecution, forced labour and hunger.

As a third generation to Tunisian Shoah survivors, I will lead he march, while carrying in my heart my grandfather, Haim Taib, after whom I am named, who was sent along with thousands of Jewish men, to forced labour camps and came back skin and bones, beaten and bruised.

Tunisia was conquered by the Nazis in November 1942.

The German launched a policy aimed at destroying Jewish life. Community institutions were closed, many Jews were fired from work, children were kicked out of schools, heavy fines were applied, private properties were confiscated and about 5000 men were forcefully enlisted to construction camps and fortifications.

My father, who was merely five years old at that time, would recall painfully how the German soldiers, dressed in ironed, grey uniforms, burst into the house, crushed personal items with their boots and confiscated his father’s radio and his mother’s sewing machine.

My grandfather, Haim and Zion, my grandmother’s brother, were taken to forced labour camps.

The following months filled the family with fear and concern. The German soldiers frequented Jewish homes in search of healthy and able men.  Sirens were wailing, shells were fired, and explosions heard daily. Roaming the streets ceased, windows were covered with dark fabrics and blackness befell the city, in an effort to defend against bombing of the allies which were directed at the anti-aircraft posts which the Germans deliberately scattered in civil neighbourhoods.

Four months later, Haim and Zion suddenly appeared at home. They were thin and bruised, their clothes torn, their faces unshaven and their hair messy and lice ridden. My grandmother, Koka, burst into tears of joy. She gave them food and boiled water so that they could shower and clean themselves. My grandfather recounted that he was sent to a deserted field, not far away. There the Germans ordered him to construct a forced labour camp. They were able to escape since in the last weeks, the German security loosened and under the blanket of one of the Allies bombings, he and his friends were able to escape from the camp.

On Friday, May 7^th, 1943, my father woke up to the sounds of joy. “The war is over!” shouted my grandfather and everyone ran out of the house still wearing their pajamas. The streets were buzzing with people, music, and dancing. Seven months of siege, bombing and suffering had come to an end.

Only two years later, when the family members were exposed to the horror movies which the Nazis had filmed in Auschwitz, were thy exposed to the horrible truth regarding the unfathomable size and cruelty of the Nazi plan for the Jews of Tunisia, Algiers, Libya, Morocco, and Egypt

Almost eighty years have passed since that dark era in history, and here we are, living in a Jewish and Democratic state that promises all of its citizens and pledges that the horrors of the Shoah will never be repeated.

Today, I shall march in the “March of the Living” and will light a memorial torch to commemorate the Jewish communities of Tunisia and North Africa who had they not been freed when they were, would have suffered the same fate as European Jewry.

I invite all of you to join me, here on my Face Book page to the live stream of the “March of the Living” and the ceremony of torch lighting starting at 14:00 on this link: https://fb.me/e/10M9dcDWd

My parents, Eliyahu and Janet Taib, of blessed memory, who were children at that time, tell of their memories from the Nazi conquest of Tunisia. Please watch the video

Here is the link to the Face Book post:

https://m.facebook.com/story.php?story_fbid=pfbid02m3zwpw8gv9C7o9FLWTGWGiXz4WANXiU2mMdcf8b5XjQQYivpH12LvwYGVNLAiYQQl&id=100062202317825&mibextid=Nif5oz