Shmita and the Sanctity of the Land

I have always claimed that Jews and Am Yisrael have an indispensable bond with our ancestral Homeland Land, with Eretz Yisrael. We are first introduced to it in G-d’s promise to Avraham “To your offspring, I will give that Land” in Bresheet (Genesis 12:7). This special linkage was later validated on Mount Sinai when we were given the Torah.

One of the first commandments aimed at upholding and anchoring that connection is mentioned in Vayikra (Leviticus) 19:23, where G-d instructs us to “plant any kind of fruit tree” as soon as we “enter the Land.”

Admittedly, since the dawn of history, planting trees has been an important practice in various ancient cultures towards sustaining their connection to their soil. None, however, had, I believe, the same allegiance between the two as our People and Eretz Yisrael have had.

We have all read and learned about the ecological and nourishing benefits of trees. To many, it boils down to a choice. Not so with Am Yisrael, though. For us, unlike others, it is a commandment to plant trees and for a reason. In the case of our People, it is the essence of the infinite ties with our Land which gave birth to such a directive. For Am Yisrael, the union between the two is the nexus of our covenant with G-d.

The obligation to plant trees, for Am Yisrael in Eretz Yisrael, symbolizes the replanting of our People in its native territory. It is the renewal of that ancient covenant through performing the Mitzvah of inheriting the Land, settling it and never forsaking it (Ramban, Book of Mitzvot, D).

It is not only settling in the Land that the Torah commands us. It also charges us with the duty of taking care of it, treat it kindly and protect it. And this is one of the themes of this week’s Parasha, Behar.

I am specifically referring to Shmita. This is the Mitzvah which requires us to halt any cultivation of the land every seventh year, abandon everything that grows on it and treating its leftovers or any new sprouts with great sanctity and reverence.

Though Shmita is relevant to other important issues such as the treatment of slaves, (which I elaborated upon in an article entitled, “Judaism and Slavery” which I wrote a few years ago), I chose to address only its bearing vis-à-vis the subject of the Land.

Eretz Yisrael, the Land of Yisrael, together with G-d and Am Yisrael, constitute the backbone that defines our Jewish essence. It is the “Three Stranded Thread,” which has kept our People unified and alive over a few millennia, despite ongoing efforts to destroy it. These three are the fabric of our Jewish existence. They are interlocked, interconnected, and cemented in an unbreakable knot, which as the wise writer of Kohelet (Ecclesiastes) affirms “cannot be easily severed.” )4:12).

Just as our omnipotent G-d rested on the Seventh Day after completing the act of Creation and just as Am Yisrael are commanded to cease all work on the Shabbat, so that we can refresh and replenish our body and soul after the sometimes very energy depleting chores of weekdays, so does the Land need a pause. Shmita, like Shabbat or other holidays in which we are required to take a break from the mundane and busy world, rest, heal and recover has a balancing and liberating intent. It, also, serves as a constant reminder that just as we belong to G-d so does the Land that He has given us. We need to treat it with reverence just as we would G-d and our fellow Jews.

 Let us face it,  whenever a culture, a tradition respects its Land and sanctifies it, in the end, it is more likely to also venerate its own People and safeguard the dignity of Man.

That my heritage, this is our Jewish legacy. How much more blessed can one be?

Shabbat Shalom

"Terumah" – Building a Tabernacle Within Us

One of the topics of this week’s Parashah, Terumah, addresses the construction of the Tabernacle, Mishkan, the transportable house of worship which G-d orders Moses to instruct the Yisraelites to build for him: “have them make a sanctuary for me, and I will dwell among them.” (Exodus 25:8). The Parashah discusses the subject at length, rather exhaustively and with much details.

“It was a modest affair,” states Rabbi Sacks when reviewing the issue of the Tabernacle in his excellent book, “The Home We Build Together.” According to him, and rightly so, “it had, or so it seems, no lasting significance….. So why is the story of the Tabernacle told at such length?” he asks.

Sacks believes that “the {Tabernacle} narrative is deliberately constructed in such a way as to create a set of linguistic parallels between the Yisraelites’ construction of the Tabernacle and G-d’s creation of the universe.” According to Sacks, in “commanding Moses to get the people to make the Tabernacle, G-d was in effect saying: To turn a group; of individuals into a conventional nation, they must build something together.” The kind of Nation that the children of Yisrael were destined to become “is created through the act of creation itself,” Sacks adds.

The Tabernacle which “was built out of difference and diversity” and which was built out of the differential contributions where each was valued equally…….was a visible emblem of community,“ Sacks goes on to say. “It represented…, in social terms integration without assimilation.” The Tabernacle, therefore, is the symbol of society,” Sacks explains. Once we recognize that, we understand the parallelism between the story of creation and the construction of the Tabernacle and its “immense implication: Just as God creates the natural world, so we are called on to create the social universe.”

As always, I am, again, in awe of Sacks’s brilliant interpretation of this Parashah.  I believe, however, that there is another angle that it can be looked at. It stems from the Hebrew choice of words in G-d’s directive to Moses regarding the construction of the Tabernacle, which, unfortunately, is mistranslated..

The Hebrew word, “B’tocham,” that the text uses, means “in them” and not “among them” as the English translation states. That difference sheds another light on what I reckon G-d intended.

My understanding of G-d’s command to Moses is that it is not only the material portable structure that He was referring to. I believe that G-d also meant a spiritual Tabernacle, one that will create a permanent dwelling place for Him not only in their camp but also in their heart, in their soul. G-d wants to dwell “in them,” not only among them. He wishes to be part of their essence.

As significant a step as it was towards helping them become a nation, the Yisraelites did not need only a social universe.  They need to remember that G-d did not intend for them to be a nation just like any other. They are G-d’s chosen People. Without internalizing that notion, without understanding it, their social universe, on its own, would not last long. Without G-d ‘s dwelling in them and not merely among them, as a constant reminder of the Covenant entered at Mount Sinai, they would never accomplish the role that they were called to fulfill.

I would venture, therefore, to add another dimension to Rabbi’s Sacks’s drawing the parallel between G-d’s creation of the natural universe and the social universe symbolized by the construction of the Tabernacle. In my view, the Tabernacle also represents the creation of our Jewish spiritual universe, the one that cements the natural and the social ones into a cohesive unshakable, indestructible and powerful force.

Shavua tov.

Is Jewish History Repeating Itself?

The last few months, here, in Yisrael, have compelled me to re-evaluate our Jewish history, especially its latest chapter, which is unfolding itself to us, as I write these lines. As many know, Yisrael has been going through a period of upheaval surrounding our recurring elections.

It is not the repeated elections that I have a problem with. Rather, it is the platforms of some, those spewing “justnotBibi” slogans (https://wingnsonawildflight.blogspot.com/2019/08/the-just-not-bibi-party.html and spreading “anti-Hareidi” arrogant messages.

The hatred and disdain displayed at the Hareidi echoes, at least for me, other periods in our long Jewish history, times that were of great concerns to many who lived through them. The contempt projected at that segment of the Yisraeli society is, I believe, the product of both internal and external forces.

Other cultures and traditions, their concepts and values have always been attractive and tempting to our Jewish people. Already in the Book of Samuel 1 (8;5), Am Yisrael demands of him “appoint a king to lead us such as all the other nations have.” How quickly had they forgotten that a)  we are NOT and were never meant to be like “all other nations,” b) that we are not supposed to have any king other than G-d.

Samuel does not understand it. G-d, however, does. “It is not you they have rejected, but they have rejected me as their king,” He tells distressed Samuel.

Unfortunately, it was not merely the desire to abandon G-d that put our treasured tradition at risk. It involved many other aspects that came as part and parcel of the covenant that we entered with Him at Mount Sinai. It meant not only deserting some observances and customs but some wonderful Jewish values as well.

Who has not heard of the Hellenizing Jews during the ancient Greek and Roman times, those Jews who chose to adopt Roman principles, assume their names, espouse and practice their hedonistic habits while mocking their Jewish ones?

The 12^th century Spanish Jewish society is another such example. The rejection of Jewish values and heritage in favour of the more “enlightened Greek philosophy” threatened to undermine the foundations of Jewish belief among the more educated segment of the Jewish population. The apprehension at what he had witnessed then compelled Rabbi Yehudah Halevi to write his greatest work, “Hakuzari.” The book, originally named, “The Book in defense of the humiliated and debased religion,” was written in response to such trends.

We have all heard about the “forced conversions” and the “secret Jews” during the Spanish and Portuguese Inquisition which took place one century later. In a revealing research (“The Origins of the Inquisition in Fifteenth Century Spain” 1995), Professor Ben-Zion Netanyahu challenged some traditional views and suggested that those Jews whether converted unwillingly or otherwise, were dedicated Christians who never practiced their Judaism. Some even became great thinkers of the Christian faith in Spain and reached high ranks in the Church there. Others, according to him, even elected to write books in praise of Christianity and its greatness and lived a Christian life in the true sense of the word.

There are many more examples to such tendencies among our Jewish People.

Only recently, during my studies towards my doctorate degree, I have learned about the devastating effects the Haskalah (Jewish Enlightenment) movement of the 18^th century posed to Jewish existence. The willful abandonment of Jewish values in favour of adopting foreign ones, the shameful existence laced with anti-semitism and poverty which were the lot of many members of the Jewish population in Eastern Europe, pushed many Jews to convert.

Just like Rabbi Yehudah Halevi, some Jews were concerned about the dangers that loomed over the Jewish world. It was in response to such worries that the Hareidi movement was established in central and eastern Euope the late 18^th century.

And Frankly, I , personally, am grateful for that.

Had Judaism not been preserved and kept by some segments of our Jewish world, what justification would there have been to setting up a Jewish Homeland in Eretz Yisrael? It could have, instead, been established anywhere else (far from this dangerous neighbourhood) as a “state for Jews” rather than the Jewish state.

Which brings me to the sad reality we are faced with in the Yisrael of today. Now that we have a state of our own, why are there forces toiling so hard to remove its Jewish essence? Would we have survived thus far had we not adhered to the commandments of the Torah that were meant to preserve us both physically and spiritually? Why would we want to distance ourselves from the very source that has imbibed us with the elixir of Life, our Torah? Why do we want to be like everyone else when history has shown us time and again that we simply cannot no matter how hard we try?

I remember my late mother telling me how, while incarcerated in the Nazi death Camps, they always asked “My G-d, my G-d, why hast thou forsaken me?”

Dear mom, He has not forsaken us. Rather, in today’s Yisrael, I am afraid, it seems that we, yet again, have forsaken Him.

Shabbat Shalom and may we all have a week filled with every blessing.

Tanach, the Elixir of Jewish Life

Today, I met with a fellow student who is doing her doctorate in Tanach studies.

She needed help with translating some research for her dissertation.

What a refreshing break it was. What a bliss to be able to unchain myself from the daily chores, from a world that is slowly draining itself off any trace of decency and dignity, where personal agenda replaces the imperative to make the world a better place and where the commandment to choose life is crushed by cultures of death. .

As someone who grew up in an observant home with a father who was very knowledgeable about the Tanach , I developed a wonderful and very rewarding love affair with this great book.

It, therefore, deeply saddens me to witness our Jewish people (the ones I care about first and foremost) distance themselves from the BEST piece of writing ever presented to mankind.

I do not prescribe to the belief that the Tanach was written by G-d. Humans, like you and I, I believe, made of flesh and blood with emotions, wants, desires, faults and imperfections, wrote it. They did, however, have one trait in common. They were very wise.

The Tanach is not just about the righteous or people that lived by or adhered to the strictest of moral codes. It is about reality and, like any reality, where humankind is involved, it is composed of the good, the bad, the beautiful the not so good, the not so bad and the not so beautiful. It tells stories of betrayal, sacrifice, love, deceit, power struggles, conflicts, pain, joy and some victories.

Its narrators were very crafty.

Each tale, each experience was meant to teach, to educate. Their lessons are so great, woven so intricately into each book, each chapter and each verse. Their eternal message is, sometimes, camouflaged in the form of parables, adorned with the finest of pearls, and sometimes hidden in plain sight, just waiting to be uncovered.

As I read and re-read them, they unfold new angles, new insights, and new understandings. They are the fountainhead of unending wisdom, a river of pure, clear water that refreshes one's tired soul, the elixir of Life, if only we opened ourselves to absorbing them and their teachings.

It is a book that recounts the sagas of a unique and determined nation, from its infancy through adulthood. It describes its various stages of growth and spiritual development as it never fails to list its contributions to a, often, hostile world.

So, my dear fellow Jews, when your tired spirit seeks a respite, longs for a quiet corner away from the madding crowd or wishes to take a break from a troubled burdening world, heed my advice. Shake off your shackles and delve into the most soothing ancient cradle called Tanach.

 Let it lull your troubled essence on the verses of Psalms and reignite any fading spark which is begging to be revived. Imbibe the wisdom of Solomon and reconnect with the treasure of our Jewish soul. Allow its pillar of fire to guide you back onto our glorious path washed out by the foamy and angry waves of a grim history.  Let it nourish your every cell with renewed vigor and be awaken to a bright new dawn in our Eternal Covenant.

Prioritizing

 In this week’s Parasha, Moshe assembles Am Yisrael and provides them with the final directions and guidelines for the monumental and important undertaking of building the Mishkan, G-d’s dwelling place among His People.

Nevertheless, instead of delving unswervingly into this matter, Moshe precedes it by reminding Am Yisrael of the importance of keeping the Shabbat.

The commandment concerning the Shabbat, as mentioned in Exodus 20 verse 7-10, states:

“Remember the sabbath day, to keep it holy. Six days shalt thou labour, and do all they wor but the seventh day is a Sabbath unto the Lord thy G-d, in it thou shalt not do any manner of work, thou, nor thy so, nor thy daughter, nor thy man-servant, nor thy maid-servant, nor thy cattle, nor thy stranger that is within thy gates for in six days the Lord made heaven and earth, the sea, and all that in tem is, and rested on the seventh day; wherefore the Lord blessed the Sabbath day and hallowed it."

The reasoning behind keeping the Shabbat, as the commandment implies, is not just moral but also suggests that by resting and sanctifying it, one acknowledges the immensity of G-d as the creator of heaven and earth and all living things. 

Had Moshe wanted to remind Am Yisrael of the need to abstain from engaging in this colossal mission of building the Mishkan on Shabbat, all he had to do is remind them of the commandment and refresh their memory regarding it. Instead, however, he does not merely remind them of that, he also expands on it and tells them: “

“whosoever doeth any work therein shall be put to death. Ye shall kindle no fire throughout your habitation upon the Sabbath day.” (Exodus 35:2-3) Unlike the referenced commandment given at Mount Sinai which puts G-d as the ultimate creator at its center, here Moshe stresses the onerous nature of keeping the Shabbat and attaches a punishment by death to those who break it. Why the sudden preoccupation with the Shabbat and the stress on observing it, some may wonder. Moreover, why is it done in a forceful, threatening manner, others may ask. After all, should not the task of building the Mishkan be associated with pleasant positive and rewarding experiences? To answer that question, one must look at the role that Shabbat serves in the essence of Am Yisrael and the covenant it entered with G-d at Mount Sinai. It was the Covenant that transformed us from a multitude of slaves into a Nation, forged into a cohesive unit where each member shares the same destiny. There are other covenants that were entered in the Tanach. Each had its own, unique sign. Here are some examples. There was the Noahide Covenant with the rainbow designated as its sign. There was the Abrahamic Covenant. Circumcision is its mark. Among all the Biblical covenants, the Sinaitic one entered at Mount Sinai was probably the most significant in the history of Am Yisrael. The symbol of that Covenant, also known as the Mosaic Covenant, is the Shabbat. Shabbat occurs fifty-two times in the Hebrew calendar. We have weekly reminders of it. What use, therefore, would there be for spending time, efforts and other resources in building a dwelling place for G-d, if Am Yisrael does not remember its purpose in the first place? Prioritizing the significance of the milestones in the journey of Am Yisrael is the lesson G-d wants to teach His People at the onset of the Parasha. Internalizing that, is of prime importance. Without keeping the Covenant, without recognizing the substance and the core of the Covenant, the Mishkan will end up being nothing but a mere grand material monument devoid of any meaning or purpose. That is why Moshe needs to precede the instructions to build it by reminding Am Yisrael of their vocation and the unique part that they play on the chessboard of history irrelevant of constructing the Mishkan. And it is precisely by remembering this Covenant, signified by the Shabbat, that we can adhere to our fated role without the need for a physical or earthly structure to carry it out. Shabbat Shalom

Choosing Life

" הַעִידֹתִי בָכֶם הַיּוֹם אֶת הַשָּׁמַיִם וְאֶת הָאָרֶץ: הַחַיִּים וְהַמָּוֶת נָתַתִּי לְפָנֶיךָ, הַבְּרָכָה וְהַקְּלָלָה; וּבָחַרְתָּ בַּחַיִּים, לְמַעַן תִּחְיֶה אַתָּה וְזַרְעֶךָ " This day I call the heavens and the earth as witnesses against you that I have set before you life and death, blessings and curses. Now choose life, so that you and your children may live - Deuteronomy 30:19

Living is about choices. Living well is about making the RIGHT choices. The choices we make have a great impact on our lives and in many cases those whose lives we touch.

Who among us does not wish their life to be anything but happy, rewarding and fulfilling?

In my view this week’s Parasha, Nitzavim (standing in front of G-d) where Am Yisrael reaffirms the Covenant we willingly and enthusiastically entered with G-d at Mount Sinai, is what Judaism and our great tradition, in fact our whole Jewish existence, is all about. It is encapsulated in one commandment, the center of this Parasha, “Choose Life.” 

If that is a commandment, you may ask, where then is the choice here? After all, selecting one’s life’s path implies making decisions through free will. Commandments, generally, dictate actions, warnings and provide precautionary measures aimed at saving lives and preventing death.

Opting to “choose life,” is, I believe, looking at the glass as half full, finding the positive in every experience, getting the most out of it and reaping its rewards. It kind of forces one to revert to the old cliché, “Look at every day as the first day of the rest of your life.” It keeps one dreaming, encourages and pushes growth, dispels and removes fear. Life is the most precious present. One does not and should not even contemplate discarding of such a gift.

In addition to one’s own reward that result from choosing life, G-d also lists a whole host of other benefits that He will bestow upon those who will follow His Covenant and pick Life. “וְלֹ֥א אִתְּכֶ֖ם לְבַדְּכֶ֑ם אָֽנֹכִ֗י כֹּרֵת֙ אֶת־הַבְּרִ֣ית :הַזֹּ֔את. . כִּי֩ אֶת־אֲשֶׁ֨ר יֶשְׁנ֜וֹ פֹּ֗ה עִמָּ֨נוּ֙ עֹמֵ֣ד הַיּ֔וֹם לִפְנֵ֖י יְהֹוָ֣ה אֱלֹהֵ֑ינוּ וְאֵ֨ת אֲשֶׁ֥ר אֵינֶ֛נּוּ פֹּ֖ה עִמָּ֥נוּ הַיּֽוֹם” (And not only with you am I entering this Covenant, but with those who are here and those who are not here. Deuteronomy 29:13-14). This Covenant embraces and binds future generations as well. It is the ticket to eternity, the promise of Hope and Continuity.

Imagine waking up in the morning to such a commandment and gearing the direction of your day, your goals, your objectives and your choices towards one end, choosing Life. Imagine making that commandment your pillar of Cloud during the day and Pillar of Fire at night, using it as the compass that will guide your perpetual journey, lead you eventually to a destination crowned with the petals of brilliance and bliss, ensure your safety and well-being and above all pave your way to a gratifying future to you and your posterity.

This is the essence of Am Yisrael and the fabric of our Jewish tradition. During times of havoc, pain and destruction, our defiant spirit never gives up. We pick up the pieces of our, pogroms, Shoah, Terror and wars torn and shattered subsistence and in following that commandment, we build bigger and better tabernacles out of them. We are, by far, the most optimistic nation on earth. It is the secret to our success and to our intellectual and spiritual prosperity. It is the elixir of our ongoing presence in a world that on more than one occasion wished to bring about our demise. It is the adage that keeps echoing, day and night on the walls of our Jewish core, “AM YISRAEL CHAI.”


Shanah Tova and may this year be a year of Love, Joy and choosing Life.

He Came to Curse and Ended up Blessing

There is a great lesson for Yisrael’s foes in this week’s Parashah (Torah Portion), Balak, a lesson that repeats itself numerous times through history, one they simply refuse to master.

The lesson has to do with the meaning of the name Yisrael, a name given to Yaakov (Jacob), a name the essence of which describes the destiny of Am Yisrael and the Jewish People. It is soaked with historical facts, ones that withstood the trials and tribulations of time. This historical evidence is blotched and sprinkled on the core of every Jewish generation from time immemorial. Our enemies rise to curse us and try to kill us but the Eternal of Yisrael being the loyal guardian of our People always subverts their intentions and turns their efforts to destroy us into making us stronger and more resilient while their curses transform into a blessing.

This week’s Parashah tells about Balak the king of Moav who follows the moves, battles and conquests of Am Yisrael as they make their way to Eretz Yisrael after they left Egypt. As he is not aware of G-d‘s command to Moses not to destroy Moav, naturally, he is concerned about the safety of his land and decides to join hands with Midian, another brutal enemy of Am Yisrael, to fight them.

The two states decide to send emissaries to one, Bilaam, a well-known sorcerer and ask him to curse Am Yisrael and bring defeat and destruction upon them.

G-d then appears to Bilaam at night and orders him to bless, not to curse Am Yisrael. Bilaam, fears G-d and continues to refuse to do as Balak orders him.

Balak, however, does not give up. He sends another delegation to Bilam. Again, Bilam refuses.

That night, G-d appears once more to Bilam and tells him to join Balak but to say only what He, G-d, instructs him to say.

Much to Balak’s dismay, Bilam ends up blessing and glorifying Am Yisrael.

Interestingly enough, some of his blessings are more of a formative account or even a prophecy. They accurately describe the eternal core of Am Yisrael, its determination, resilience and the nature of their relationship with the Nations, a relationship that is unique to Am Yisrael. Above all, it also describes G-d’s unending support for the Eternal Covenant that He entered with Am Yisrael.

Bilaam starts by saying: "How beautiful are your tents, Jacob, your dwelling places, Israel” (Bamidbar 24:5) He is, in my view, describing the Yisrael of today. That is what Yisrael, the pearl, the flower of the middle east looks like. It is the Home of a people who after two millennia of wanderings have come back home, turned the desert into fertile land, built homes, schools and a high-tech empire.

Bilaam further states a fact that  is obvious to many :

“the nation shall dwell alone, and not be reckoned among the nations” (Bamidbar 23:9) 

The term “reckoned” can be interpreted in two ways. One, that Am Yisrael is not counted among the nations of the world. The other, that Am Yisrael will themselves not reckon the opinion of other Nations.

That, too, is a truth we witness daily, especially the former part of the interpretation of that verse. A few years ago, I wrote an article on the subject. I called it: “The Lonely Yardstick.” In it, I shared that the world has three yardsticks to judge nations. One for democracies. One for dictatorships. One for Yisrael only. It is a very lonely yardstick, just like Yisrael which is not always counted among the nations of the world and is often the subject of severe criticism merely for its desire to guard its sovereignty and the security of all its citizens.

Finally, there is one more truth that Bilaam’s blessing states which I wish to bring to the readers’ attention. I am referring to verse 23:21 "No misfortune is seen in Jacob, no misery observed in Israel. The LORD their God is with them; the shout of the King is among them.” The unconditional Love of G-d to Yisrael is eternal. To our transgressions and occasional misbehaviour (we are still humans and I never claimed we were perfect!), G-d sometimes turns a blind eye.  We witness it here daily. Miracles upon miracles. G-d is always within Am Yisrael, ready to fulfill His promises to the descendants of Yaakov who became Yisrael. The Lion of Judah, Bilaam continues his blessing in the form of a prophecy, “Shall rise up and devour its victims.”

A bird’s eye view of the recent history of Yisrael demonstrates and attests to the accuracy of Bilaam’s prophetic words of blessing.

That is the unassailable lesson of this week’s Parasha. Am Yisrael and the Jewish People have been sentenced to life, to continue to thrive and always triumph. It lies at the heart of the name Y I S R A E L : “For you have fought with G-d and men and you shall prevail”

Now, if the enemies of Yisrael inside and out would finally take heed and internalize this very important lesson wouldn’t it be nice?

Shavua tov

Reflections

The sound of children’s laughter woke me up from my brief afternoon slumber. It welcomed me as I walked onto my veranda blinded by the fiery red ball of sun slowly setting into the horizon. They were playing outside my window. Their melodious voices, some shouting, others running, chasing a ball, enjoying the basic slices of life here in Eretz Yisrael were the answer to our Jewish People’s prayers: “Lihayot Am Chofshi Be’eartzeinu, Eretz Tzion V’Yrushalayim.”

How was yesterday different than any other day, here in our beautiful Homeland, you might ask?

Yesterday was Yom Ha’Shoah, that solemn day when Yisrael commemorates the innocent souls that perished in the Shoah. It was merely seventy some years ago when young tender lives bearing the names Yoseleh, Moisheleh, Avremaleh and many other belonging to children like the ones playing outside my home were deprived of similar rights, not to mention some privileges.

Yom Ha’Shoah has always been a hard day for our Jewish People.

As I grow older, though, the images, the stories, the miracles of survival and above all, the pain that they carry fail to diminish. If anything, they grow harder and more difficult to bear. That is the day when old scars that are begging to be healed open and bleed our invisible and tormented Jewish spirits. It is the day when images of dear ones briefly flash before our eyes, images of relatives and of strangers, some bearing the Yellow Star, others in the arms of their mothers as they cling to them in one last hope, nightmares of our starved brothers and sisters facing the unknown. There is only so much that the human mind and heart can hold.

We must continue to carry their memory.  To remember is the eternal destiny of our people. “And You Should Tell Your Son,” we are commanded. Remember and tell. Tell and remember.

“What about forgiving?” asked one of my students.
“Forgive whom and for what?” I answered. Forgiveness is a great concept, I teach my students. But it is up only to those who were the subject of injustice, of inflicted suffering, to grant it. Neither one of us, members of “second Generation,” or even “third Generation” of the victims have been given a mandate to forgive in their name. They have, however, demanded and rightfully so, that we “Never Forget.”

Some memories beg to be erased. Our tormented souls plead to free themselves of the pain and let the scars heal. But just like the tattooed numbers on many arms which bear witness of “What Man hath made of Man,” and which refuse to fade, so do those images of horror, engraved on our Jewish DNA, refuse to disappear.

They are all eternal reminders, I keep telling myself, in an effort to help ease the pain, of our One and Only Covenant with G-d, a Covenant of Hatikvah, Hope, Endurance and the Eternal verdict that we are here to stay. They are the unending Promise that “The Eternal of Yisrael Shall Never Lie.”

As we are about to enter this Shabbat, I pray that I will always be awakened by the sounds of laughter of Jewish children in Eretz Yisrael.


Shabbat Shalom

Tefillin

The Hebrew word תפילין (Tefillin or phylacteries in Greek) which is also referred in the Torah as טוֹטָפוֹת (totafot) describes a set of two small black leather boxes containing scrolls of parchment inscribed with verses from four sections of the Torah. These boxes are attached to leather straps. The word Tefillin is derived from the same root as the Hebrew word Tefilah (prayer) and these are worn by Jewish men during weekday morning prayers.

One of the boxes is placed on the left arm against the heart - the seat of emotions, and the attached leather strap is wound around the left hand, and around its middle finger. The other box is placed above the forehead -the seat of reason.

“In this manner,” according to Alexander Cowen, “our attention is directed to the head, heart and hand. It teaches us to dedicate ourselves to the service of G‑d in all that we think, feel and do. It is also to teach us not to be governed solely by the impulse of the heart, lest that lead us into error and transgression. Nor are we to be governed by reason alone, for that may lead to harsh materialism.

Placed on the arm opposite the heart, and on the head, the Tefillin signify the submission of one's mind, heart and actions to the Almighty, as well as the rule of intellect over emotion.”

Why have I decided to write about this subject now, you may ask?

A few days ago, I returned on an El Al flight from New York to Yisrael. As always, observant Jewish passengers perform this very important and several millennia old Mitzvah, one we are commanded in Devarim (Deuteronomy 6:8) “And you shall bind them for a sign upon your hand, and they shall be for ornaments between your eyes.”

Watching them filled my Jewish heart with joy and my cup of Jewish pride overflowed.

Sweet memories of my late father always surface before my eyes when I witness such scenes. They reconnect me with the beautiful days of my childhood when I would wake up to my father’s soft recitation of the morning prayer. His melodious chant was always filled with so much earnestness and sincerity. I would listen to him as he repeated the following verses from Hosea 2:21-22 while winding the leather strap around the middle finger of the left hand:

"וְאֵרַשְׂתִּיךְ לִי לְעוֹלָם וְאֵרַשְׂתִּיךְ לִי בְּצֶדֶק וּבְמִשְׁפָּט וּבְחֶסֶד וּבְרַחֲמִים וְאֵרַשְׂתִּיךְ לִי בֶּאֱמוּנָה וְיָדַעַתְּ אֶת יְהוָה."

“And I will betroth you unto Me forever; and I will betroth you unto Me in righteousness, and in judgment, and in loving-kindness, and in compassion. And I will betroth you unto Me in faithfulness and you shall know The Lord.”

This particular verse, which is the second reason I elected to put my sentiments on paper, bears a great significance for me, as a Jew. It encapsulates the eternal covenant between G-d, Am Yisrael and our Jewish People. It allows us to get closer to satisfying our aspirations to know G-d, the One and Only G-d of Yisrael and His benevolence towards us.

This daily renewal of the vow of betrothal and the eternal love story between G-d and Am Yisrael coupled with its subsequent commitment and rewards is what the gift of being Jewish is all about. How many of us avow, daily, our alliances, loyalties or sacred covenants be they with partners, siblings or just friends and dear or loved ones?

Furthermore, the marks of the straps that are left on the skin of those who perform this Mitzvah remain for much longer after they are removed. They continue serve as a constant reminder of that which has kept us Jews and Am Yisrael the Eternal People.

This verse from Hosea and the Mitzvah of putting on Tefillin are also a reaffirmation that my unshakable Motto, נֵצַח יִשְׂרָאֵל לֹא יְשַׁקֵּר” )Samuel 1 15:29 The Eternal of Yisrael shall never lie), is not merely another verse. It is a living proof that Jews are the People of Eternity and that G-d will never forsake us.

For as long as ONE Jew, yes ONE Jew only still performs it, just like in the words of Hatikvah, our Hope is not lost.

The Torah, a Contract, a Covenant of a Different Kind

In this week’s Torah portion,  Parshat Ekev, D’varim (Deuteronomy) 7:12-8:10, Moshe continues to remind Am Yisrael of the terms of the Covenant that they had entered with G-d at Mount Sinai when receiving the Torah.

Like any contract, written or oral that is entered into between the parties ,  the Mosaic Covenant specifies obligation, the mitzvot, as well as the rewards that result from fulfillment of all obligations and includes  the adverse results of violating its terms and how to deal with such consequences.

There are other Covenants that G-d has entered with Am Yisrael as as the Abrahamic Covenant and the Davidic Covenant. Unlike the Mosaic Covenant though, those are unconditional. This one is not only conditional, it is one that is not easy to follow. Yet, as we all know, Am Yisrael accepted it verbally and out-rightly when they said,     נעשה ונשמע“Naaseh Venishma.” (We shall do and listen).  It is one that is not easy to follow,

A law school professor might tell his students that the Mosaic Covenant is a “CONTRACT OF ADHESION”

A type of Contract, a legally binding agreement between two parties to do a certain thing, in which one side has all the bargaining power and uses it to write the contract primarily to his or her advantage.

That law professor would also possibly ask his students about its validity.  After all, what choice did the people feel they had about accepting such a contract from an all-powerful G-d who had just freed them from slavery in Egypt?   Moreover, they were asked to accept this deal without having really studied it and without benefit of legal counsel to help them understand its implications. 

In retrospect, would they agree that it was a good deal?  Some, like those who erected he Golden Calf or Korach and his congregation, did not and proceeded to violate the contract’s provisions with disastrous effect.

Now, why have we written about this?  

This story teaches something unique about Judaism and Jewish culture and why Torah should have been studied and seen only in the original Hebrew language.

It, also, illustrates something vastly different between traditional Jewish interpretations of Torah and those of others who have adopted Jewish literature and interpreted it to fit their own theologies.

One example where translations of the Torah from Hebrew has erred, innocently or deliberately, is when one refers to the information that was written on the Two Tablets that Moshe brought down from Mount Sinai as “commandments.” What was inscribed on them is described in the Torah asדברות   (Diberot) literally meaning  “pronouncements,” NOT “commandments” as the translation reads. There is a different word in Hebrew for commandments, מצוות (Mitzvot).

Our Torah, literally “instruction” (not law), in Hebrew, describes what happened at Mount Sinai  as ‘giving’ the Torah as a ‘gift’ (giving and gift in Hebrew  are derived from the same root, נ,ת,נ), implying that the giver is benevolent and loving,  like a caring parent,  caring for the welfare and best interests of its children. Therefore, though it may still be a contract of adhesion, it is one provided in love and concern.  It’s the parent who tells his child “look both ways before crossing the street, because the consequences of not doing so could be horrible”, not to set up the child to be fearful and not to be mean to the child, but out of love and care.   That, too, is a ‘contract of adhesion’, but one based on love and concern.

We are troubled by those who teach that all Abrahamic religions are essentially the same, just versions of the same themes and beliefs with little differences here and there.  Some Jews want to believe that as it makes them feel safer to be like everyone else in what they fear as a hostile world.  Christian Missionaries have for a long time preached that line to Jews to encourage them to convert, to just accept a small change, they claim, for salvation.   The problem is that between Judaism and the other “Abrahamic religions,” there is a theologically wide gulf that makes them almost polar opposites.

Christianity sees the establishment of the contract between G-d and Am Yisrael precisely as that definition above of the Contract of Adhesion.  A cruel and demanding G-d imposing harsh rules on the people with a deal they cannot dare refuse without an opportunity to study it.  They combine that with the Hellenistic belief that mankind is helpless and at the whim of the fates and gods, needing a hero to save them.  (according to Christian theologian Fr. Hans Kung). 

In great contrast, Judaism sees that contract more as directions and lessons (Torah, as we mentioned above, means instruction) from a benevolent kind father, who wants the best for his children and from a Benevolent G-d who wants the best for His People, ones who share the desire to set the standards and warn against what will naturally happen if those standards are not kept.  It’s the parent who warns his children to look both ways before crossing the street because he cares for their safety and welfare. 

Thus, for Am Yisrael and Jews, the Covenant is not the kind of one sided deal imposed by the powerful G-d.  It is lessons given as a gift to those who might benefit. In this case, it is Am Yisrael ONLY.


This article was written jointly by Roger Froikin and Bat-Zion Susskind