The Fire that Hardens the Egg, Melts the Butter

 

People who read my articles, occasionally, write to me asking about the level of my piety and Jewish observance.

Though I am not an observant Jew in the traditional sense of the word, I do believe, and very deeply, in G-d. I try to understand His wisdom, His teachings and accordingly live up to the role I have been destined to fulfill.

As I am sitting here, trying to grasp the enormity and the underlying messages of G-d in this week’s Torah portion, “Ki Tetze,” which I was first introduced to as a child, through my father’s teachings, I am yet again, thankful to have been born into such a great culture padded with so much insight and enlightenment. Its depth and wisdom are flabbergasting. The more I delve into it, the more I am left in awe.

It so happens that, in recent days, I have also been listening and watching a video where the mother of one of my childhood friends unfolds her horrific ordeals and misfortunes during the Shoah. She also shares experiences from her childhood where she was raised in a home steeped in Jewish tradition and customs and a staunch belief in G-d.

Auschwitz, unfortunately, "cured" her from her faith in G-d. That cursed place is where, for her, G-d existed no more.

That awareness, naturally, affected and determined the extent of Jewish education that my friend received at home. It was minimal if any, at all.

Like her mother, though, my late father had also been a survivor of the Nazi inferno.

Unlike her, however, and despite witnessing the horrible death of both his parents (burnt in the synagogue, along with other "useless" beings), as well as the untimely death of other family members, my father never lost faith in G-d. His motto was "G-d giveth and G-d taketh, may G-d's name be blessed." Somehow, I felt that the older he got, the stronger became his trust in G-d.

How else could my father, part of the remnant of the big fire, express his gratitude for his survival, for moving with my mother and brother to Eretz Yisrael, raising a family and living a long rewarding life?

Both my friend’s mother and my father were scorched by the same fire. They both came out of that experience different people, each with their own conclusions, resolutions, and world view. One melted, the other hardened. It is not my place to say which is which. I will leave it to each reader to decide that, should they wish.

Having said that, it is important to emphasize that one cannot and should never judge people for their decisions and choices. Each person holds life stories woven intricately which, jointly, make up the tapestry of their essence.  Each responds accordingly and reacts differently to similar experiences.

What I can and will continue to do is be obliged to my earthly father and the choices he had made, choices that had defined his Jewish substance which left its footprints on my core. Likewise, I will, forever, be beholden to my Heavenly father for that which I have and for that which I do not have. Both molded me and defined the terrain and the course of my physical and spiritual journeys through life.

 

Judaism and Compassion

“Christianity is more compassionate and loving than Judaism,” said to me one of my students who was indoctrinated by missionaries to parrot their words. “Judaism is vindictive, harsh and inflexible,” he went on to give me the reasons why he chose to adopt the Christian faith. As an example, he cited the verse from Mathew that states: “You have heard it was said, ‘An eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth.’ But I say unto you, ‘Do not resist one who is evil. But if anyone strikes you on the right cheek, turn to him the other also.” His example caught me somewhat flabbergasted as all it did was merely mislead him to believe that compassion is synonymous with abuse since, in the views of some, “turning the other cheek” is what it boils down to. I also found his observation and conclusion about Judaism not only unfounded but also surprising since that student came from a non-practicing home and had very minimal, if any, knowledge about Judaism and our Tanach in order to be able to form an objective view and disprove or refute such allegations.

So lest other innocent souls fall prey to such disinformation and deceitful messages, I have decided to take the opportunity and educate some of our fellow Jews about our own beautiful culture and hopefully rectify the damage that has been inflicted upon us through similar antics by those who will do all they can to “steal our souls.”

Firstly, not only is Judaism not vindictive or encourages to carry grudges, it teaches compassion and sympathy to the suffering of others. What then is a better way to arm the uneducated among us with knowledge than through revisiting our Tanach and other sources for pointing out the truth?

Towards that end, I decided to focus this article on this week’s Parasha, Ki Tetse.

Ki Tetse addresses several issues. They all share a common denominator, Compassion. According to the Cambridge Dictionary Compassion is: ”A strong feeling of sympathy and sadness for the suffering or bad luck of others and a wish to help them.” And these are the sentiments that are echoed in many of the commandments that are discussed in this Parasha. Let us look at a few.

The first issue in this Parasha discusses the treatment of non-Jewish women who are captured in war. The text stresses that the captive women need to be treated well. According to it, they have rights and privileges. And that, dear readers, was decreed thousands of years before the Geneva Convention was initiated.

Another important issue that is mentioned in this Parasha refers to the kind treatment of lost or hurt animals. “Thou shalt not see thy brother’s ox or his sheep driven away and hide thyself from them; thou shalt surely bring them back unto thy brother.” The text further expands to say:” Thou shalt not see thy brother’s ass or his ox fallen down by the way and hide thyself from them; thou shalt surely help him to lift them up again. ” Neither should one tie a donkey and an ox to the same plough when cultivating a field as they are not equal in capabilities and the weaker one might suffer as a result.

I can almost hear those who are familiar with the Parasha calling me out and claiming that some of the commandments that are listed here display women as disadvantaged to men. That, unfortunately, is correct. Though I do not condone such attitudes of inequality, I would ask the readers to look at this part of the Parasha from the perspective of the ancient world, mainly Mesopotamia, in which the Hebrew culture of the Tanach was reared. There, women were not regarded as autonomous individuals and did not practice much personal sovereignty.  

However, as I pointed out above, overall, these commandments do present a compassionate society. Honest compassion encompasses empathy and is perceptive to the needs of others. Compassion, therefore, can, eventually, inspire and encourage greater equality for everyone. All one needs to do, nowadays, is look at the modern-day Jewish society and see how our compassionate essence has produced a better and happier Jewish world.

Shabbat Shalom

To You, Germany, Deutschland from me

Special Thanks to Roger Froikin

Throughout the early years of my life in Yisrael, I heard people referring to you in various ways. They were diverse depending on the contexts, setting and who made a mention of it.

In my household, for instance, it was always negative and understandably so. Both my parents, my close family members and most of our friends were Shoah survivors. The mere citation of your name evoked memories of pain and suffering. It brought to the surface nightmares and recollections of an era which were frenziedly pushed to the dark corners of my family’s sub consciousness in an effort to erase any trace of their existence. Your forbidden name was engraved on their brain, the physical scars brandished on their skin and both are still imprinted on my soul.

“Never Forget, Never Again” is the motto that our people has adopted when we recall that chapter in our history where you, Germany, Deutschland have played such a critical role. That role, I must admit has changed us immensely. You have helped us raise and shape a race of Jews who are determined to make that motto a reality every single day of our lives.

In my home, though, and again, plausibly so, that motto was followed by “Never Forgive.” Surely you cannot blame blemished souls, emotionally and physically disfigured (my father was 70% disabled), for vowing that. We never bought products made by you. We never drove cars produced by you. Neither did we ever listen to the beautiful music composed by Strauss and Wagner. My brother and I were raised to believe that you were the embodiment of all evil.

I refused to accept that perception and was determined to change it. I was resolute to “Never Forget,” but I was also ready to forgive. For how, I asked myself, can anyone blame the children for the sins of their fathers? The optimist in me wanted to believe that the seed of goodness was after all in you and continued to hold the conviction that its fruition was provisionally hindered because it was tended by the wrong gardener. I wanted to believe that you and your people have learned the lessons of World War II and would make every effort to educate your youth the meaning of compassion, justice, civility and respect.

Needless to add that my embarking on such a journey towards such a noble goal was not very welcome by those who raised me otherwise.

Reality, however, soon dealt me a hard blow .The new, repenting Germany might have been the case for some. Not for all, though, so it seemed.

I recently learnt that "According to reports submitted by Israeli NGOs, in 2012-2015 alone, €4 million of German taxpayer money was allocated to 15 Israeli NGOs (this may be a partial amount, as not all Israel NGOs adhere to the submission requirements), 42% of which went to organizations that promote BDS and/or “one-state” visions. " (http://www.ngo-monitor.org/funder/germany/)

Such a reality makes me wonder, why do you, Germany, of all nations, engage in such activities, aimed at out rightly undermining the Jewish state, the Homeland of the same people that almost a century ago, you were so determined to annihilate?

The answer, I believe, can be summed up in one word, Projection. The term is used in the realm of psychology where it describes the actions of humans who defend themselves and their bad deeds by denying their existence in themselves and attributing them to others.

Naturally, you, Germany and some of your proud Germans, are aware of your dark history and your atrocious actions against the Jews. Such a history rests as a yoke on your neck refusing to disappear. The human conscience can bear only so much guilt especially when it is repeatedly flung at it. Your guilt-ridden essence needs to relieve itself of it.

Supporting and financing groups that promote BDS, which clearly present Yisrael and Jews as malevolent, is one way of dealing with all that guilt. It helps dwarf the crimes you committed against the Jewish Nation. Creating and aiding a narrative which portrays your victims as evil and themselves guilty of “war crimes,” helps diminish the magnitude of your own crimes and shift focus from them to those of their victims, those they have wronged so badly.

Such actions by you, Deutschland will eventually act as a boomerang. They may provide you with the so long sought after relief but it is merely a temporary one. Your current behaviour not only reopens and deepens our scars, it makes ‘Never Forget” and “Never Forgive” for people, like yours truly, more unyielding than ever before.

Some of us are not only Jews, we are also Jewish

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

As far as we are concerned, there is a difference between the two. They are not always one and the same.

A Jew, according to the Oxford definition is “A member of the people and cultural community whose traditional religion is Judaism and who trace their origins through the ancient Hebrew people of Israel to Abraham.”

We are not going to enter a debate here on who is a Jew. This definition merely addresses what a Jew is.

That same source defines Jewish as :” Of or relating to the Jews or their culture or religion.”

What begs to be concluded from these two definitions is that in order to be Jewish, one needs to be a Jew first. To be born a Jew or to become a Jew, one is automatically admitted into the Covenant that G-d entered with Avraham.

The Abrahamic Covenant is an unconditional Covenant. G-d made promises to Avraham in Bresheet (Genesis) 15:18-21. That Covenant which requires nothing of Avraham deals mainly with the dimension of the Land that G-d promised to him and his descendants. The rite itself as described in Bresheet 12:1-3 reinforces the notion that it is an unconditional one as it is G-d alone who passes between the pieces of animals after causing Avraham to fall into a deep sleep. The sign of this Covenant is the Brit Mila, the ceremony of circumcision (Bresheet 17:9-14). All males in the Avrahmic line were to be circumcised so that they bear a lifelong mark of it upon their flesh. Any descendant of Avraham who is denied or refuses circumcision was naturally declared and destined to be outside of G-d’s Covenant. Entering the Avrahamic Covenant is one of the conditions of being a Jew.

There is another Covenant that every Jew enters either upon birth or when becoming one. It is one that has shaped Am Yisrael and our Jewish people into who we are today. It is the Mosaic one, the one we entered with G-d at Mount Sinai. Unlike the Avrahamic Covenant, this one is a conditional one.

A Law school professor might call it a “contract of adhesion” in which the terms are presented as non-negotiable and to be accepted by the people. G-d presented His law to Am Yisrael at Mount Sinai as described in Shemot (Exodus) 19:5. Their response was acceptance, saying, “נעשה ונשמע " We shall do and we shall hear!” (Shemot 19:8).

The Mosaic Covenant sets Am Yisrael and the Jewish People apart from other nations. It is in understanding the responsibilities and values that are inherent to the Covenant at Mount Sinai, being motivated by them, identifying with them and acting consistent with them, that turns the Jew into Jewish. It is important to note here, that though some of the values such as social justice and moral code dictated to Am Yisrael, at Mount Sinai are universal, Judaism itself is not universal. It belongs to Jews and Am Yisrael only.

Now, we would bet people reading this so far expect the next paragraph to include an endorsement that Jews become more religious. No, that is not the intent of this essay. Nor is the intent to define who is a Jew or what Judaism is beyond the statements above.

Instead, the idea is to alert Jews to a problem. There are those Jews who have excluded themselves from the Jewish People representing themselves as Jews, when often they are not under normative and historical Jewish definitions. These Jews represent their motivations as Jewish when they are not. These Jews claim their values as Jewish when they are not.

This not a new phenomenon. Only the titles have changed. Throughout history, when Jews have been a minority or under foreign rule, there have been those Jews who saw it in their best interest to join with the powers that be and the group they ruled. They did it, and too often, to prove their allegiance (sometimes required, sometimes not) to their new “friends” by opposing the interests of the Jewish People, by actively negating – or reinterpreting – their connection to the Jewish people.

For instance, in Iberia, between 1200 and 1500, some Jews converted to Christianity so as not to be persecuted. When the Inquisition came in 1492 (1496 in Portugal), many of these converts became the most anti-Semitic people in Christian Spain. Torquemada, the first grand inquisitor, is one example.

In the late 19th Century and early 20th, many Jews in Europe, in an effort avoid being subject to exclusion and persecution, converted to Catholicism, seeking safety and security in a change of ideology, dumping their Judaism for what appeared to them to be “universalism.” Other Jews joined political movements, socialism, communism, trading Judaism for these universalist movements, as if to hide and seek safety in a universal ideology.

Today, we see some Jews acting similarly, but with a bit of a change. It is no longer necessary to hide that one is a Jew. Thus, instead of denying that they are Jews and in order to fit in, they reinterpret what Judaism is and turn it into universal secularism. This way, they create the fiction which allows them remain Jewish under the claim that the ethics of Judaism are indistinguishable from the latest liberal universal definition of secularism. In short, they leave Judaism and Jewish concerns and interests behind to become the Jew who is a believer in whatever the latest fashionable approach to secularism is. Liberalism and all its clichés of the day has become their religion, though they falsely label it Jewish.

So how is this modern manifestation different from the former Jews who were anti-Semites in post 1492 Spain, for example ? Not at all. So, for instance, when we see a “Jewish Voice for Peace” sidind with those who call for the destruction of Yisrael and the murder of Jews, we need to understand what they are. When we see an organization like B’Zelem in Medinat Yisrael (Israel) make an effort to damage Yisrael’s security and give aid and comfort to those that wish it destroyed, because they worry about what Europe thinks, we’ve seen it before.

We have all seen these online debates in which some far left wing Jew that claims to be pro-Palestinian and anti-Zionist is called a Kapo by those who oppose him. Not only is that kind of characterization unfair and inaccurate, but it is perhaps not strong enough. “Kapos” became Kapos, because they were trying to survive often when the alternative was death. Those who claim the title “Jew” today, but who ally themselves with anti-Semites, who support murderers of Jews, did not take that position for their own safety or that of their families, but for other reasons that are not nearly as noble. We believe that they are worse than Kapos by any measure.

Frankly, the Jewish nation does not need people who choose to endanger the Jewish people in favor of some left-wing universalist clichés. The Jewish People does not need those who want to solve their psychological and sociological problems by damaging the future for the rest of us. The last thing the Jewish People needs is the kind of Jew who laughs at Jewish heritage and dismisses it in some misguided effort to be liked by gentiles.

In the Passover Hagaddah, there is the allegory of the 4 sons. One of them asks, “what does all this mean to you” as if excluding himself from Judaism, its Heritage, history and its ethical and moral standards. It is those misguided Jews, we believe, that the Hagaddah addresses.

So what should the Jewish people do about these “Jews in Name Only” ?

The first step is to understand what we started this essay with --- that a Jew can choose to be Jewish or not. We, Jews, first and foremost, need to understand that merely being a descendant of the Avrahamic Covenant does not automatically make one a party to the one made at Sinai. Wishing our Jewish brothers and sisters a happy and blessed Pesach.

Liberty - Another Gift of the Jews

The middle of the month of Nissan, according to the Jewish/Hebrew calendar, marks the start of the Holy Day of Pesach (Passover). In Hebrew, the language of Am Yisrael, it is also known as the Spring Festival.

But for many Jews, it is, first and foremost, celebrated and commemorated as the Holy Day of Liberty, the time in our history where the Yisraelites were liberated from slavery in Egypt and were on their way to becoming a Nation at Mount Sinai.

The concept of Liberty, Cherut (חרות) or Dror (דרור) in Hebrew, as practiced and applied by Am Yisrael was unheard of prior to Yetziat Mitzrayim (The Exodus from Egypt). Its magnitude was never underestimated or diminished and has been celebrated by Jews the world over for over to three millennia.

The significance of the notion was already established at the most important event in Jewish History, the giving of the Torah at Mount Sinai. The act of the Giving of the Torah is akin to the signing of a contract, a covenant, a Brit. This one is between G-d and Am Yisrael. As in any contract, both parties are first introduced. A swift review of Shemot (Exodus in its Hellenistic name) 20: 2, G-d announces: "אָנֹכִי יְהוָה אֱלֹהֶיךָ אֲשֶׁר הוֹצֵאתִיךָ מֵאֶרֶץ מִצְרַיִם מִבֵּית עֲבָדִים." I am the Lord your G-d who took you out of Egypt out of the House of Slavery.”

A question is begging to be asked: “Why did G-d mention the Exodus from Egypt as his achievement? Surely G-d could have introduced Himself as the Creator of the Universe, for is there a more compelling deed than creating a Universe?”

One of the answers to this very important question is linked to the concept of Liberty. The reason G-d elected to introduce Himself in that manner is because He wanted to show us humans that Liberty is analogous to the act of creation.

It is important to mention that while the concept of Liberty has become universal, the Holy Day of Pesach is reserved to Jews and Am Yisrael ONLY. That is reiterated by another, very captivating interpretation of the above verse. Rabbi Yehudah Halevi, in his book “The Kuzari,” points out that we learn a basic educational truth from this introduction. For people to accept direction from a teacher, parent, or anyone else, they must first trust that person. Trust occurs when there is a personal and beneficial relationship between the two parties. Once trust has been established, the one is able to accept direction and criticism from the other. That is why G-d introduces Himself as the architect of the Exodus rather than the Creator of the universe. The Exodus was a personal experience that benefitted every Jew. It was a clear expression of G-d’s love and concern and it generated within the nation a sense of trust and gratitude. “

Moreover, each Jew and member of Am Yisrael is commanded to regard themselves as if he or she personally came out of Egypt from out of the House of Bondage into Liberty. This commandment is reflected in The Oral Torah (Masechet Psachim) where it states, “בכל דור ודור חייב אדם לראות עצמו כאילו הוא יצא ממצרים". “In each generation, each person is obligated to see himself or herself [lirot et atzmo] as though he or she personally came forth from Egypt.”

It was only after Am Yisrael was liberated that they were taught and coached in the art and the skill of practicing certain freedoms. Liberty, as the Cambridge Dictionary defines it is the right “to live as you wish or go where you want.” It means mobility.” Liberty precedes Freedom which the Oxford dictionary defines as the “condition or right of being able or allowed to do, say, think… whatever you want to, without being limited.” One cannot have Freedoms such as freedom of speech, freedom of expression without experiencing Liberty first. One cannot exercise the virtue of Liberty without following the Divine directive to practice choice. Freedoms must be heralded by Liberty.

The concept of Liberty is described in Vayikra (Leviticus) (Leviticus) 25:10. “Proclaim Liberty throughout all the land and to all its inhabitants,” וּקְרָאֵתֶם דְּרוֹר .בָּאָרֶץ לְכָל יֹשְׁבֶיהָ” This concept was adopted 3000 years later as one the founding principles embodied in the Declaration of Independence and the Constitution of the USA. It is inscribed on the Liberty Bell.

This verse in Vayikra adds another facet to the term Liberty. The word “Dror” is used in the context of Yovel יובל (Jubilee). It is not only in terms of physical Liberty but also freedom from economic slavery. All debts are to be erased. A person who is in debts is a slave to his or her creditor. Jubilee puts people back on their feet allowing them the opportunity to experience Liberty as it should be.

Though many of us take the concept of Liberty for granted, unfortunately, a large segment of humanity is still shackled to the House of Bondage. We can only hope that this Pesach, the proclamation made in the Torah, as decreed by G-d to Am Yisrael will be carried forth and reach the ears of the hearts and souls of those who hold the key to their Liberty, Cherut, Dror and Freedom.

May we all have a meaningful Pesach crowned with every blessing

Special thanks to Michal Dar-El with her help on this.

Roger Froikin says it best!

I have been attacked on more than one occasion for my suggestion that people, mainly Jews, for that is what I care about, refer to  our Homeland as Yisrael. I base my argument on the origin of the name and its meaning, which to me precisely defines who we are and what we, Am Yisrael, are all about.

The origin of the name is in Bresheet 32:28. "Your name shall no longer be Ya'akov but Yisrael for you have fought with G-d and with humans and have overcome." The name is powerful and prophetic at the same time. Yaakov means to follow in the footsteps of others. That is what Jews and Am Yisrael have done for the last 2000 years. We have let the Nations dictate to us who we are, where we should live and what we shall be.  No more. We are now in our own land ,the land of our forefathers. We are now in control of our own destiny! We lead ourselves. Not only that, we have been in constant struggle with all. But as the name Yisrael suggests, we have prevailed and will continue to prevail. Why would we want to change that name. And NO, Israel does not mean that. Israel in Hebrew , and our name is Hebrew, means G-d will sow. That is NOT what the Angel of G-d told Ya'akov.

To all those who argue otherwise, Roger Froikin,  one of my best and most knowledgeable friends has this to say:



"Language is an interesting thing when it comes to place names. No Spanish speaker calls Mexico the same way an English speaker does. The Italians call a city on their coast Livorno, but if you listen tyo the BBC from London, you know that they will call it Leghorn. While, the Italians will call London, Londra.

3800 years ago, Avraham's grandson Ya'akov (Jacob) was called Yisrael for a reason, because the name meant something, and said something special ab...out his descendants and the attitudes at the core of Judaism that made it unique in the world then - and now, that Am Yisrael (the Hebrew Nation) relates to the world by "doing", by thinking, by debating, not by passively accepting or submitting. In 1948, the state of Yisrael (in Hebrew) was reborn.

Yes, that is what it is called by those who live in it, respect it, and believe in it. So, is it Israel or Yisrael? I understand that one cannot get English speakers to call it anything other than Israel when speaking to one another. Just as I understand that Italians will call the British capital, Londra, and Germans will call their country Deutschland, no matter how many Americans call it Germany.

So, in a smaller world, we need to understand that these differences do exist, that what we call a place, because of our linguistic histories, may not be accurate to those living there. So, as a Jew, I lived in Medinat Yisrael for years of my life, and my heritage is part of Am Yisrael. That's a fact. People might not want to hear it, but it is still a fact. Or should the the Germans be forced to call their country Germany just because others do? "

Yiddish, anyone?

It was not easy growing up speaking Yiddish in the nascent state of Yisrael. The language evoked memories of the Diaspora and its recent tragedy of the Shoah, an experience that has forever changed the Jewish people.

It was my first language, the only one I could communicate through with my grandmother who never spoke Hebrew. It was also the language that drew much mockery, contempt and disdain by many. “That is the language of the Ghetto,” some suggested. “That is the language of those who went like a lamb to the slaughter house, without any resistance,” others yet never hesitated to contribute their two cents. I was called a “vusvus.” (what, what in Yiddish). I was called a “soap” since, after all, Yiddish was the language spoken by those, some of whom were targeted to become soap by the Nazi killing machine.

These condescending remarks, however, never deterred me. They had the opposite effect on me. “I am a daughter of two such ’lambs’,” I always came out in defense of Shoah victims. I saw their existence as a triumph. “It is the language of survivors,” I retorted. “in fact, Yiddish is the culture of survivors.” I was proud to speak it, to hear my grandmother’s Yiddish stories about shtetl life, to sing its songs and to laugh at its humour. “If not for Yiddish and its humour,” my late mother told me on more than one occasion, “I doubt that even those who had come out of the inferno would have. אז מעז הונגעריק זינגט מען אונד אז עס טוט ווי לאכט מען  (When you are hungry, you sing and when you hurt, you laugh) was our motto when we were in the Nazi camps,” she repeatedly told me. I adopted this motto.

Years later, when I lived in Texas, I taught a Yiddish course in one of the synagogues as part of an adult education program. I always started the lesson with a humourous anecdote about life in the shtetl. On one occasion, I had to travel out of town and asked another teacher to cover for me. “Why have you been teaching them only about the wonderful aspects of shtetl life?” she asked me upon my return. ”Why don’t you teach them about the hunger, the poverty, the anti-Semitism?” I did not need time to think of an answer. “That, they can read about in any encyclopedia,” I told her. ”The purpose of my course is to teach them how the Yiddish language and culture helped Jews overcome some of the darkest chapters in our Jewish history. This is what Yiddish is for me, this is what Yiddish was for many, a survival tool.”

Unfortunately, not many are aware that the Yiddish culture which nearly became extinct since so many of its members were brutally eradicated, was also blessed with great writers, poets, philosophers and thinkers. My daughter and I had the honour to have had a glimpse at it when we attended a two month Yiddish course at the University of Vilna, in Lithuania.

Vilna housed one of the largest Ghettos during the early years of WWII. The Ghetto library, full of Yiddish books, was one of its busiest centers. One hundred thousand books, per month, were checked out at one point of its existence. The Yiddish culture was the residents’ sustenance, their elixir and sliver of hope during those difficult years.

So yes, Yiddish it is for me. I still learn it, read it, speak it and sing it. I vowed that as long as I am alive, it will live on with me and through me. My parents taught it to me, I taught it to my daughter and I intend to teach it to my grandchildren. After all, isn’t remembering, keeping our heritage alive one of the tenets of Judaism? Is it not what Exodus 13,8 commands us where it says, “And you shall tell your son. וְהִגַּדְתָּ֣ לְבִנְךָ֔” ?

Giving Credit

“Failure to accord credit to anyone for what he may have done is a great weakness in any man.”  - William Howard Taft

Without diminishing the importance of Taft’s wise words, allow me to add that failure to render credit is a weakness not only in any man but in any nation as well. It is the essence of humility, individual and national.

As a Jew, I am proud to belong to a tradition, to a heritage that has shared much with world civilization. What makes me ever more proud of it is that it never fails to give credit where and when credit is due.

This week’s Parasha (Torah portion) is a great example of it. It is entitled “Yitro,” (Jethro in Greek). Yitro is a non- Yisraelite who later becomes Moshe’s (Moses) father in law. He is a dedicated father and family man and is the governing leader of the tribes of Midian, to where Moses escapes from Egypt as a young refugee. After rescuing his daughters and their herds from hostile shepherds, grateful Yitro invites Moshe to break bread with them and offers him his daughter Tzipporah as wife (Exodus 2:21).
Following the liberation of his people from slavery in Egypt, Moshe, now a powerful and famous leader, returns to Midian where Yitro guides him on how to govern his people. Yitro advises him of the need to appoint magistrates and judges to assist him in the task of administering justice to Am Yisrael. (Exodus 18:17ff). Yitro fulfills his task as Moshe’s mentor with grace, elegance, sincerity and honesty. In return, he receives Moshe’s utmost respect and deference.

Yitro’s modesty and humility are further demonstrated in Numbers 10:29-30 where he is invited by Moshe to join Am Yisrael where he would be respected and honoured. Yitro courteously declines by entreating his responsibilities and duties to his own tribe in Midian.

Later in this week’s Parasha, we are told that the Children of Yisrael camp at the foot of mount Sinai where they are preparing to receive the Torah as G-d has chosen them to be His “kingdom of priests” and “Holy Nation.” That is where the children of Yisrael first become a Nation, Am Yisrael after they proclaim “Naaseh V’ Nishma “(we shall do all that G-d has spoken).

The giving of the Torah is, undoubtedly, the most important event in the timeline of the history of Am Yisrael and the Jewish people. It is the event that has connected our Past, Present and Future as a Nation.

When undertaking the task of dividing the Torah into fifty-two portions, our Rabbis elected to name this most important Torah portion after no other than Yirto, a Midianite, a non-Jew, an outsider.

Why, some of you may ask?

And this is where one of the greatest gifts of our Jewish nation lies, the essence of our strength. Yitro’s name was chosen precisely because our Rabbi’s followed one of the most important tenet inherent in our Jewish culture - giving credit where credit is due. Yitro, as we witnessed throughout the Parasha, was very instrumental in shaping our destiny and help us make it a reality. He provided Moshe with refuge when he escaped the hostile environment in Egypt, gave him food, shelter and coached him into becoming one of the greatest leaders Am Yisrael has ever had. His contributions to who and what we are today are immense. He is what we, Jews, call "A Righteous Gentile."

Yitro’s credit was not only given to him, it was well earned and well deserved.

Russia and Yisrael

Last night I attended a concert of the Red Army Choir. It brought fond memories of an early childhood in Yisrael, memories of a home where the Russian culture was an integral part.

My parents who moved to Yisrael in 1949 were born in Belarus and Lithuania. Russian was one of the languages spoken at my home. We listened to Russian songs and we sang them. I will never forget how at the age of seven, my mother, who was a brilliant singer, taught me “Under Moscow’s Nights” (which I can sing in Russian until this day). I used to sing it on family celebrations such as weddings and Bar-Mitsvahs when I had to reach up to the microphone which was always much taller than me. We also sang Russian songs, in their Hebrew translation, during my youth movement days. Those were happy songs. Those were happy times for me.

Unfortunately, however, Russia does not evoke only doting memories in me.

It was the Russian Gulag where my late grandfather, Ben-Tsion, (after whom I am named) was deported to and where he eventually perished for no crime other than being a wealthy Zionist Jew. His legacy drove me to visit Siberia in my desire to trace his last footsteps. That was a hard experience. There was no comparison between the conditions under which I visited the place and the ones he experienced. I learned about those settings through avidly reading books written by Solzhenitsyn and others, hoping to learn as much as I could about the last phases of his life. I could not even begin to fathom what he had to face in that horrible place.

It was not, though, the only visit I made to Russia. Something drew me to that place, some unexplained call from the unknown and painful parts of my Jewish being - a call to go visit that part of the world. As hard as it might be to admit, I loved every minute I spent there.

I know, some would be quick to point out all the ugly aspects of Russia, its regime, its bloody history of anti-semitism and violation of basic human rights. Despite these, I could not help but be fascinated by its wealth of culture and great contributions, Jewish and other, to world civilization.

Listening to the Red Army Choir with its perfect performance, vocal and visual, triggered a resurgence of my admiration for that culture. I was so proud when I heard the choir chant Hebrew and Yiddish songs, songs of my happy childhood in Eretz Yisrael, songs of a culture that shaped me into who I am. I was dancing in my seat to the sounds of a wonderful amalgamation of my past, present and future.

As the lump was growing in my throat and my eyes were welling up, I could not help but express a silent wish that the coming days will see a growing cultural exchange between our two countries. I was praying for the building of bridges that would melt the political barriers and divisions and help improve the lots of both the Russian and Jewish People.

I hope you will all join me in this vision and in unison say “Amen!”

The Reign of Dishonesty

Written jointly by Roger Froikin and Bat-Zion Susskind-Sacks

The Ten Commandments are universally taken as a good list of rules for a fair and moral society.  We all seem to agree that “Thou shall not steal” is a good policy.  We all concur that not murdering is a necessary basic rule of any moral and stable society, that coveting leads to all sorts of problems and so on.

But less specifically stated is that all these rules hinge on honesty and are undermined by dishonesty.  We all hear that “honesty is the best policy” and that dishonesty leads to problems we do not want.  We all want our children to tell us the truth, businesses to treat us honestly and fairly, and friends and neighbours to never cheat us.

Everyone has been guilty of holding back on the truth so as not to hurt the feelings of a relative or friend, one’s wife or husband.  Half-truths to protect feelings are not uncommon.  Lies to protect against evil are justified at times.   The simple fact is whether one is honest or dishonest affects more than that person.  It affects others who depend on that person.

One fact, however, remains clear. Whether someone is honest or dishonest directly or indirectly touches the lives and choices of others.  

Another fact that remains uncontested is that, there are circumstances when honesty needs to be expected from those who affect our daily lives. Their honesty is something that we depend on for our decision-making processes and our choices.  Their honesty, or lack of it, determines what we must do, or not do.  

Honesty has rarely, if ever, been the governing principle on the timeline of history. For one to be honest, one needs to be courageous, be free of agenda and have a strong desire to bring about a change for the better in one’s world. In a way being honest is, to use Gandhi’s words, being the change that one wants to see in the world.

The honesty-dishonesty conundrum begins with childhood.  Children lie to protect themselves when they believe that they have done something wrong or disappointed someone close to them.  We teach them to develop trust and that being honest is best in the long run. 

Later in life, many use dishonesty in order to take advantage of others.  Businessmen who cut corners in order to sell faulty merchandise or who charge high prices in times of tragedy to profit from the hurt of others, come to mind. Politicians are another example of those who sometimes use lies, distraction, or evasion of truth as their compass to attract supporters and voters to gain power or push a policy that they believe might have opposition if people knew the facts.

Dishonesty, unfortunately, has become the rule rather than the exception in today’s world, today, more than ever before.  

Everyday people, sadly enough, also, play the same game in the hope of bringing about a change that will improve their status and advance their own personal agenda, gain friendships and buy love.

What is even more concerning is that we have learned to accept dishonesty and live with it. We may get momentarily upset when witnessing it, mumble our discontent with those that employ it, shake our head in disbelief yet we move on with our daily chores. We have all seen people who would excuse dishonest behavior and wonder why.   Some do wonder about the guy that shrugs off dishonesty by saying “everyone steals” or the politician who wants us to believe him but says “everyone lies”.   And what is worse is when people excuse dishonesty to protect their favorite friend or store or politician or political party,  strangely even when it might be against their own best interests.

Honesty, on the other hand and strangely enough has become a dirty word and is almost akin to a four-letter word.  In some countries today, the honest man is considered “naïve” or a fool.  The guy who shakes hands on a deal without paying a lawyer is called a “sucker”, assuming everyone is going to cheat him.  The honest man is scorned by many.

Likewise, in this Politically Correct world where opinions that do not conform  are censored, those that strive to express their opinions genuinely and sincerely amount to no more than “cyber bullies” and accused of promoting strife, hatred, lack of PC and warding off friendships merely for dissenting from current popular clichés. They are even considered by some, “the enemy.” What follows then is that the “enemy”, the “cyber bully” should be attacked, sanctioned and occasionally even threatened,  no different than the intolerance that led to pogroms against Jews in Europe.

The legitimization of dishonesty is alive and well and continues to pose danger to liberty.

Lost, misused and abused in translation

Translations have many positive facets. They bridge between cultures, peoples and societies. They can help enlighten us, educate us and enrich us.

Unfortunately, translations, when done by the wrong entities, some of whom may carry their own selfish agenda, can lead just to the opposite. The consequences can be detrimental, cause much strife and shed rivers of blood.

One such translation is what is known as the Septuagint (תרגום השבעים), an affair that went down in Jewish history as a sad and disastrous milestone. In fact, it was considered such a calamity that Jewish rabbis designated a special mourning day to commemorate it.

It all started in the third century B.C.E. with the Greek ruler, Ptolemy II Philadelphus, the king of Ptolemic Egypt. An educated man, Ptolemy wished to augment his library in Alexandria and commissioned seventy-two (six from each of the twelve tribes) scholars to translate the Torah and later the rest of the Tanach into Greek. This translation came to be known as “The Septuagint” (Seventy in Latin). The main reason for producing the translation was for the benefit of the many Jews who were scattered throughout the Greek Empire and who were beginning to lose their Hebrew language. The translation also gave many non - Jews an opportunity to have a glimpse at the Hebrew Scriptures. Apparently, a noble cause but, as you will soon learn, dear readers, a great reason for alarm.

The main concern of Jewish authorities regarding this translation or for that matter, any translation, was that it might pose danger to the Biblical message and word, the danger of being misunderstood or badly interpreted. Unfortunately for us, Jews, this has ended up being the case which in turn gave rise to much of the suffering that many of our people have endured throughout history and continue to endure until this very day.

To those of you wondering why I chose to write about this subject, let me just add that I have personal reasons for alerting my fellow Jews to the dangers that such mistranslations hold. As a teacher who lost at least one student to the unrelenting efforts of missionaries to convert Jews, I learned that the lurking spiritual thieves use such mistranslations to lure Jews into their midst. Uneducated Jews will fall an easy prey to them. Knowledge is power and a tool to ward off such efforts. The more our Jewish brethren know about their own history and the better they understand it, the less likely are they to become victims of treacherous efforts by the missionaries!

Let us move on to some examples of how our Tanach was mistranslated and the ensuing price, we Jews and Am Yisrael sustained as a result.

One example that comes to mind is the mistranslation of Leviticus 34, verse 29: "כי קרן עור פני משה" (Moshe’s skin was radiant). The Hebrew word for “radiate”קרן  , is the same as that for  “horn.” This mistaken translation is well illustrated in the famous sculpture of Moshe by Michelangelo which is displayed in Rome. One can hardly ignore the horns that were added to the gracious figure of Moshe holding the two tablets. That mistranslation not only affected Michelangelo’s creation, it was also a tool used by many anti-Semites through history to describe Jews and attributing to them monstrous traits. And who loves monsters?

Another example causing much controversy and a rift between Judaism and Christianity can be found in the Book of Isaiah Chapter 7 verse 14. There it says: “לכן יתן אדני הוא לכם אות הנה העלמה הרה וילדת בן וקראת שמו עמנו אל” The same verse is conveniently translated as: “Therefore the Lord himself will give you a sign: The virgin will conceive and give birth to a son, and will call him Immanuel.”

Luckily, the Tanach was written in Hebrew and yours truly is proficient in that language. Isaiah does NOT use the word “virgin” in that verse in Hebrew. He uses the word  (almah) עלמה “maiden,” “an unmarried woman.” The Hebrew word for virgin is בתולה (betulah). If Isaiah had indeed intended to impress upon us that he was prophesying the immaculate conception would he not have used “betulah” instead of “almah?”

“But hey,” argue my devout Christian friends, “were not all maidens during Biblical era expected to be virgins?” A valid argument indeed, one would suggest. But do not rush to any conclusions, dear friends, not yet anyway. And this, by the way, is where many innocent ignorant Jews fall in the trap set by messianics and missionaries. Unfortunately for the missionaries who enter a debate with me on this verse in Isaiah, I always have the answer.

It is then that I enlist the help of a publication called  a “ Bible Concordance,” a verbal index to the Bible. In it, one can find references to every word that appears in the Tanach. Since my contenders suggest that “a Biblical maiden has got to be a virgin,” I looked up the references to maiden. It appears in the Tanach seven times. The first one is in Genesis 24, verse 43  where Eliezer, the servant of Avraham describes Rivkah, the future wife of Yitzchak “מג הִנֵּה אָנֹכִי נִצָּב, עַל-עֵין הַמָּיִם; וְהָיָה הָעַלְמָה, הַיֹּצֵאת לִשְׁאֹב, וְאָמַרְתִּי אֵלֶיהָ, הַשְׁקִינִי-נָא מְעַט-מַיִם מִכַּדֵּךְ.  ("See, I am standing beside this spring. If a maiden comes out to draw water and I say to her, "Please let me drink a little water from your jar") .In that same chapter verse 17, Rivkah is described as a Virgin, betulah that no man knew (and we all know what “to know” in the Biblical sense means). “טז ""וְהַנַּעֲרָ, טֹבַת מַרְאֶה מְאֹד--בְּתוּלָה, וְאִישׁ לֹא יְדָעָהּ  (The woman was very beautiful, a virgin; no man had ever slept with her). So here is my question to you, dear missionaries, if indeed it was so obvious that almah, a young maiden is akin to betulah in Biblical times, why was there a need to reiterate it in the case of Rivkah? Evidently, it was not as obvious as you would like your poor uneducated Jewish victims to believe!

So how did the Hebrew word almah become virgin? Remember the Septuagint, the Greek translation of the Tanach? That is where the answer lies. In Greek, the same word Parthenos means BOTH “maiden” and “virgin.” Isn’t it natural, therefore, that to make their case for the immaculate conception, early Christianity conveniently chose the word virgin instead of the original Hebrew word for maiden?

Finally, and I have used that example of mistranslation a few times, I have an issue with those who refer to my homeland as Israel (where the S is pronounced as a Z instead of Yisrael where the S is pronounced as it should be an S.

Israel (where S sounds like Z) when written in Hebrew עיברית (Ivrit) the language of Am Yisrael, the language of our heritage, is spelled as יזרעאל  which is how we spell the valley of Jezereel in the Northern part of Eretz Yisrael. That valley is ONLY one part of our Jewish Homeland. Additionally, it also means something totally different than what our forefathers intended for our state. It means in Hebrew, “G-d will sow”. The name Yisrael which is the correct English spelling of our Home has a totally different meaning.

The name “Yisrael, first appears in the Torah, in the Book of Bresheet (AKA Genesis in its Hellenistic translation) Chapter 32 verse 29 “לֹא יַעֲקֹב יֵאָמֵר עוֹד שִׁמְךָ כִּי אִם-יִשְׂרָאֵל כִּי-שָׂרִיתָ עִם-אֱ-לֹהִים וְעִם-אֲנָשִׁים וַתּוּכָל "  (No longer shall your name be Yaakov, but Yisrael because you fought with G-d and people).

Dear Jewish readers, Am Yisrael and those who claim to love us, do you realize the significant message that the name יִשְׂרָאֵל  (Yisrael, where the S is pronounced like an S as it should be!) bears? Do you grasp the message of Hope, Strength and Promise that it holds? No longer shall your name be Yaakov, which in Hebrew means to follow, to walk in the footsteps of others. We shall no longer be followers, but rather leaders. We will lead our people and those who wish to follow our holy message that we carry for humanity. We shall do it against all odds. We shall face our challengers, our haters and adversaries and we shall win! We are the People of Eternity!

Am Yisrael Chai <3

·          

An Open Letter to My Jewish People

Recently, I have seen many open Letters. “An Open Letter to an Anti-Semite,” “An Open Letter to BDS,” “An Open Letter to the World,” and even “An Open Letter to Hillary Clinton.” It is time to write an open letter to my Jewish People because in my world,  you come first.

As the Jewish New Year draws nearer and closer, I have been thinking and evaluating the past year and how, I believe, we, Jews and Am Yisrael, can make the future better and more rewarding for us.

“Ata Bechartanu Mikol Ha’amim,” (You chose us of all Nations) is a major tenet in our Jewish tradition. This choice carries a myriad of obligations for us, not just privileges - probably more of the former than the latter. Alas, we accepted this choice, G-d’s selection of us, before we even knew and understood what  it entailed. “Naaseh Venishma,” (We shall do and we shall hear) is what we vowed and affirmed at Mount Sinai.

We are still learning what it is we agreed to and adjusting ourselves to that commitment. After all, we are still a young Nation. After all, what is 4000 years of existence for a People that is eternal?

Recalling our vocation, our calling and our role in history, I can think of three main characteristics or traits that describe us.  Firstly, we were told that we will be dwelling alone.  Secondly, we were destined to be a Light to the Nations.  Lastly, we were also foretold that we shall not be reckoned with the other Nations.

Thus far, I believe, we have lived and continue to fulfill the first two parts of that destiny. The Jews and Am Yisrael have always been alone. That is becoming more and more the case with all the hatred directed towards us by many and their  ongoing efforts to further isolate us. Likewise, we have definitely been a Light unto the Nations. We have contributed immensely to world civilization in remarkable ways and have left our footprints in almost every field of human history.

It is the latter and third part of our core which we seem to have not yet mastered entirely. Why? I believe it is very much rooted in our inability to grasp and to accept the unquestionable reality that we are different. We have a different essence, a different spirit than others and certainly a different destiny. We are not better than others and we are not worse than them. We are just different. And who wants to be different? Who does not want to be accepted as equals among others? Who would not want to blend nicely and easily into one’s surroundings?

What is even more bothersome to me is that we expect strangers to understand us when it is not part of their makeup and culture to comprehend and appreciate the fiber of our Jewish soul. In their desperate efforts to grasp it, they try to define us in their own terms and in accordance with their culture and their values which in many cases are so foreign to ours. They try to compartmentalize us and shape us into an organism that will help them understand us. Some even do it with the best and most sincere intentions. However, by the time they are done defining us, they have created an entirely different entity, one that is so alien to what G-d has intended for us, Jews and Am Yisrael to be.

And worst of all, we allow them to continue to do that to us. Why? Because we fear that if we protest and stand up against their, in many cases, well - intended efforts to help us and support us, we might lose their friendship. Towards that end, we continue to give up our most cherished values and for what?

This Rosh Hashanah, I turn to you, my dear Jewish brothers and sisters, please reconnect with our history. Learn to remember who we are. Engrave our ancient templates, the reason for being chosen, on your Jewish substance. Tie them as symbols on your heart and bind them on your brain. Betroth them and renew your covenant with them. That is the only way we will stay who we were meant to be. And we are here to stay. That, too, is part of our destiny.

Shana Tova

Please do not expect me.....

                                                                           

My eyes are blurry as the waves of tears are flooding them. My heart is bleeding and my soul is crying. The deafening shrieks of my Jewish essence refuse to fade.

I watch the falling victims of evil all around me. They are white, black, yellow. They are Christians, Muslims, Hindus. They are gay, they are straight. They are religious and they are atheists. They are young and they are old. Evil sees no color, no creed and no age. It smites anything and anyone who stands in its way towards its own redemption towards the fulfillments of its revolting prophecies.

The four chambers of my Jewish heart, however, have room to mourn and hurt the pain, the loss of only my people. Why? Because, as I repeated time and again, if I don’t, very few others, if any, will.

I am not going to beg you, plead with you, dear world, to join me on the journey of my bereavement. You never did, you never will. If anything, you only helped and continue to help pave the way and remove the roadblocks that hamper the path for those who target us, those who wish to turn us into an extinct specimen in the history of mankind.

Please do not expect me to join you when you mourn and count your dead strewn on the very same trail that you have toiled so hard to devise for us. I cannot, I simply cannot. I am still mourning millions of my people who died in the fires of the altars of history, alters that you and your ancestors sweated so hard to erect in their efforts to purge this world of a plague called “Jews.”

The tears I shed help extinguish those fires. Unfortunately, you never tire to ensure there are more fires than the gashes which my drying eyes could ever yield.

So please, do not expect me to join you in your pain. The scars of my ache reject, much with your unrelenting support, the healing process of my own agony. I have no time, no ability to share yours. You have numbed my sensitivity to your suffering. The bitter taste of the medicine you have been feeding my people has intoxicated us. It has failed you.  We have become indifferent to it. Unfortunately, it has made us like you, oblivious.

Your antics have forced many of us to produce our own medicine. We even have a name for it, “Our Jewish people come first!” We care for Jews first. If our common enemy, the monster you have given birth to, fed and nurtured, leaves our Jewish victims next to yours, we will mourn ours first. We will remember and commemorate ours before we do yours.

Please do not expect us to do otherwise.