The Ultimate Craftsman

The Machzor is the prayer book that is used during the High Holidays. As I was reading through it, on Yom Kippur, I was yet again, as I am every year, captivated by the way it was compiled, consisting of special prayers for the occasion as well as the various Torah readings.  The Machzor is an assembly of all that the praying persons need for the Holy Day. It is aimed at their convenience.

A close review of its content will reveal that the Machzor is also a treasure trove of not only meaningful prayers but a collection of literary pearls in the form Piyyutim, poems which add much value and meaning to this day of awe.

One such Piyyut that always captures my eyes and leaves me in amazement is the one depicting G-d as the ultimate artist, the fundamental craftsman.

The first stanza which likens G-d to a potter leans on the words of G-d through the prophet Jeremiah (18:6) “Like clay in the hand of the potter, so are you in my hand, Israel.” I particularly like this metaphor since, as someone who works with clay, I can deeply appreciate the process and identify with it. Romancing the clay, shaping it, reshaping it until it reaches the desired outcome is a skill that requires much vision and persistence. It echoes the act of the creation of man in Genesis which relates to Man being made of clay/ earth and created in G-d’s image. And who if not G-d would possess such dexterity?

The second one, compares G-d to a gifted stone mason. Through His manipulations, holding the stone or breaking it, He can bring it to its desired final shape.

The third stanza compares G-d to a sailor who proficiently negotiates the steering wheel of the ship guiding it to its destination. Another stanza compares G-d to a glazier – a skilled tradesman specializing in cutting, installing and removing glass. Another one yet, likens G-d to an embroiderer who folds and flattens the fabric as he wishes.

However, the final stanza where G-d is likened to a silversmith is my favourite one. I like this metaphor, particularly, as it brings to mind for me the parable of the Silversmith in the Book of Zachariah (13:9) where G-d equates himself to the Silversmith anxd Am Yisrael to his silver: “I will refine them like silver and test them like gold.”

I recall reading an account, once, about a woman who visited a silversmith’s workplace in order to learn the details of the process of refining silver. As he was holding the piece of silver over the fire, the silversmith explained to her that the silver needs to be held in the middle of the fire where the flames were hottest for the impurities to burn away. That reminded the woman of G-d holding the Jewish People in such a hot spot in His effort to cleanse them.

The silversmith also explained to her that he must watch the furnace constantly in order to ensure that the silver is not destroyed. Again, the woman thought of G-d as the Silversmith who needs to put Am Yisrael into the furnace, closely watch each step with the intent of purifying them and bring them closer to him.

As she was about to leave, the woman wished to know how the silversmith knew when the refining was finished and the silver is pure.

“That’s rather simple,” he replied, “the process is finished when I see my image reflected in the silver.”

Yom Kippur is part of our purification process, the time when we shed our impurities, Personal and National and prepare ourselves to enter a better life, a clean future, a time where we hope that when G-d, the Ultimate Craftsman’ can look at us and see His Image.


Shabbat Shalom and a Happy Succot, fellow Jews and Am Yisrael.

The Affliction of the Soul

As we approach Yom Kippur, each year, the day seems to bear a more solemn and weighty substance, at least for me. As I grow older, the meaning and purpose of this monumental day for Jews, finally sinks in.

Why so?

On the lighter side, it is the only Jewish Holy Day where Jews do not eat (yes, I have known that, of course, but just realized it).That, we must admit to ourselves, sets it apart from all others. Anyone who is even slightly familiar with our Jewish traditions, knows that, on some Holy Days, we are commanded to rejoice, and food is always part of that joy. That is not the case on Yom Kippur.

On the more serious side, though, on this day, we are expected to atone and are charged with the duty to: “…afflict your souls … For on that day G-d shall provide atonement for you to cleanse you from all your sins before the L-RD.” (Leviticus 16:29-30).

It is not only the consumption of food that we are required to desist from on this day, though.  Chazal, our wise elders, ruled that we assume upon ourselves other self-inflicted discomforts on Yom Kippur. These include the prohibition to wash, anoint our body with oil, wear leather shoes or engage in sexual activities.

Moreover, in Leviticus 23:29, the Torah even prescribes a punishment for those who do not adhere to engaging in what it refers to as the “affliction of the soul.” It states: “For whatever soul it be that shall not be afflicted in that same day, he shall be cut off from among His People.”

One may ask and rightfully so, since all those forbidden pursuits seem to be associated with the physical or bodily realm, how come refraining from them is referred to as “affliction of the soul?”

In the world of Jewish/Hebrew wisdom, one can find different approaches to the dualism or unity between the Body and the Soul.

Genesis 2:7 establishes the dualism between the two with the soul being more eminent: “Then the Lord G-d formed a man from the dust of the ground and breathed into his nostrils the breath of life’ and the man became a living being.” What this verse is telling us is that without the soul, that spark of G-d, in us, our body is worthless. Ecclesiastes 12:7, likewise, echoes the superiority of the soul and its divine eternal essence as opposed to the body which is temporal and merely serves as the vessel for it: “and the dust returns to the ground it came from, and the spirit returns to God who gave it.”

Whereas the body attempts to indulge in its desires and wishes of the here and now, the soul which, according to those two versesת belongs to G-d, constantly strives, to free itself, rise and reconnect with its Creator. In this light, the body is viewed as the enemy of the soul and its constrictor.

Only when the body is tamed and subdued can our Divine spark unshackle itself from its earthly constraints and reach its contentment and self-actualization. This concept of controlling and subduing the body to the Spirit is common in many faiths and creeds.

Yom Kippur is a day when we celebrate the fabric of our Jewish core, its importance and its magnitude. It is a time when we are expected to grant those attributes of G-d within us the power and the authority to reset our inner compass.

Only through the prescribed physical depravations listed for Yom Kippur, can our Soul, our Spirit prevail and be free to rise above our immediate needs into higher dimensions. In that realm, it can peacefully reflect upon and evaluate our past actions and the actions of others, learn their respective lessons and open the door to a tomorrow which finds us better and more deserving of the Gift of Life.

Wishing everyone an easy fast and may we all be inscribed in the Book of Life.

Judaism and Personal Responsibility

"If you are not a better person tomorrow than you are today, what need have you for a tomorrow?" – Rebbe Nachman of Breslov

As we enter the Jewish New Year, I spend much time pondering the purpose of the High Holy Days and their significance in our Jewish Ethics. Reflection upon and taking personal responsibility for our deeds, conduct and mistakes is, in my view, mainly what these days are about.

The premise that underlines these available courses of action in our Jewish tradition rests in the human conditions. As humans, we are destined to err and make mistakes. At the same time, however, we are given the opportunity to address them, correct them and learn from our experiences in order to become more accomplished human beings and help make our world a better place.

Our Torah and Jewish literature give us the tools to make this happen. They guide us along this complex path where on the one hand, free choice is in the realm of G-d alone and where our actions are pre-destines while, on the other, humans are expected to know Good from Evil.

The Tanach, as we know, is the story of G-d and His interactions with humans and their choices between Right and Wrong. In numerous instances, it shows us that despite the omnipotence and omnipresence of G-d in our life, humans are given the ability to distinguish between the two and make the right decisions.

The first verse that points to that is in Genesis 1:26 “And G-d created man in His image.” The image that the verse refers to is not a physical one since we do not know what G-d looks like. Rather, the text hints to some attributes that humans share with G-d, one of which is the ability to distinguish between Good and Evil. This is further reinforced in Genesis 3:22 following the eating of the forbidden fruit of the Tree of Knowledge, where G-d states: “Verily, this human being is unique, that he has his own mind to choose between good and evil.”

Indeed, without free will there would be no purpose to life. That is what G-d decreed to us. Free will gives a meaning to our life. It affects those around us and the world we live in.

With Free Will comes Accountability for one’s deeds and assumption of Personal Responsibility. What cements these three is Emotional Intelligence and Maturity.

Emotional Intelligence and mature conduct is another attribute of G-d’s image which Jewish Literature and Jewish sages expect to find in us.

In Judaism, no one gets punished nor dies for our sins and transgressions. We each must come to terms with our actions and bear their consequences, good AND bad. No learning, no improvement would or ever could take place if someone else takes the blame and endures punishment for our misdeeds.

Hence the numerous repetitions throughout the Tanach of the importance of each Jew doing good and be the recipient of the rewards associated with it as opposed to the punishment that follows the election to do evil.

The solemn period AKA, the Ten Days of Awe, between Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur, each year is, therefore, of great significance for Jews. It gives us a chance to repent, evaluate, improve and above all pave our path to G-d’s ultimate commandment to “Choose Life”:

“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)

This commandment is cited, rightfully, justly and most appropriately so, in the Torah portion that precedes Rosh Hashanah. It is a great reminder for us, Jews, that we are given the chance to make that commandment a reality and ensure that in the words of Rabbe Nachman of Breslov, we each are “a better person tomorrow….than today.”

Wishing Jews, the world over, Shanah Tova, a year of good deeds and abstention from evil, a year of Choosing Life.

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.

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

Barking (deliberately) at the Wrong Tree

The following article appeared in Hebrew in Israel Hayom on 30.07.2019 following the murder of a young gay Arab man by a family member. It was written by Tal Gilad. I decided to translate it into English for the sake of the English speaking segment of the Israeli population who are not entirely familiar with the antics of the Israeli Left.

Screaming about gay rights and blaming, even by merely hinting, the religious establishment or the entire Israeli society and holding it responsible for the stabbing of an Arab boy by his family, is akin to demonstrating in front of the Knesset against the crime level in the favelas of Rio De Janeiro.

It is impossible to ignore the obvious: the attack is related to the cultural characteristics of the Arab society. However, anyone who will express it explicitly, will be automatically accused of racism. On the other hand, there did not seem to be a problem to accuse the whole Hareidi society of the terrible murder of Shira Banki, may she rest in peace, despite the fact that among the Hareidi community there does not exist a culture of murder for innumerable “justifications,” starting with family honor and ending  with nationalistic revenge.

For some reason, when one deals with the Arab citizens of Israel, the attitude towards gays is not considered an essential problem that needs an intensive treatment.

On the contrary, one must walk on eggshells in order not to offend them. One should avoid talking about motives, education and mentality.

This globalism, the “we are all guilty,” version, is hypocrisy. Dancing  half naked in the streets of Tel Aviv, you will not change by one inch the kind of education a child gets in the Arab society just as you would not be able to change the level of crime in Rio or the rotation of Earth. These are barks at the wrong tree, except the tree is selected deliberately.

Why? Because the concern for gays clashes with the selective principle of “honoring the other.” On the one hand, there is the constant dwelling on women’s rights. On the other, the right of Arabs to degrade women and demand that they cover themselves with burkas because “it is a cultural matter.” The Left is so tolerant that it does not relate to Arabs as rational people who are supposed to blend and become part of in the country in which they live, but as a remote tribe in the Amazon forests whose life style should not be disturbed by giving it a pair of jeans which might spoil the idyllic nature.

Had we been dealing with a Hareidi boy, the Left would have united in an outrageous demand for a pogrom in Benei Brak. However, when we are dealing with a segment where murder for the sake of family honor or revenge are part of its rule of thumb, suddenly it is forbidden to call the child by its name. I do not know exactly how to process the data in the bug full and contradictory politically correct software.

Obviously, it is also convenient. After all, the Left really does not wish to solve problems. It loves them, seeks them, creates them if in lack of them, thrives on them and benefits from them. This is the essence of the Left, to protest and be furious. Perhaps it is better that way. The position in which the Left is in a festival of abstract theater and the Right is in government -  is pretty normal. The Right is rational and knows that two plus two is four, and the Left demonstrates against it since it is racist that two plus two is four.

At the bottom line though, it will not help to look for the coin under the lamplight merely not to offend the  darkness.

A Vanished Culture

Last night, I was watching a TV programme about the acclaimed Yiddish poet, Avraham Sutzkever.

In my view, he is probably the best poet that the Yiddish language ever gave rise to.

Fortunately for me, Yididsh is my first tongue. What a blessing it has been to be able to read and study this and other great Yiddish poets in that language, in the context of the Yiddish culture

Sutzkever was born in the town of Smorgon, my mother’s hometown. As a result of the Ribbentrop-Molotov agreement, their part of former Poland fell into Russian hands. Shortly after the Nazi invasion into the Soviet Union, in the middle of 1941, they set up a Ghetto in Vilna to where my parents and their family were transferred. Sutzkever, also, ended up there.

Vilna, its rich Jewish history and Jewish life have been part of the fabric of my upbringing. Prior to the war, I had a large family there. My late grandmother visited that city on a regular basis. I used to listen to her stories, her vivid description of famous landmarks, its thriving Jewish culture, Yiddish theatre and renowned scholarship of Yerushalayim D’Lita” (Jerusalem of Lita). That city was an inseparable part of me.

I have been to Vilna three times. During one of those times, I spent a summer programme at the Vilnius University Jewish Institute with my daughter. It was there that I was introduced to the great Avraham Sutzkever.

One of his poems that was taught in the course, “By the Golden Chain,” (Songs from the Diary), especially, caught my attention. Here is my free translation of it from the Yiddish:

“By the golden chain […]
Already time to unbutton out of darkness the secrets

Where tiny hearts of slime continue to beat in the ocean’s laboratory

Now it is time to drink wine with long drowned
Sailors in water – innkeepers on deck of ocean, in a cabin

And hear them tell of pirates, albatrosses

And Love of a thousand years, and everything not yet - tranquil.”

It struck a familiar note. As an undergraduate in English Literature, these words reverberated those of another poem, a very well known one. It was Samuel Taylor Coleridge’s poem, “The Rime of the Ancient Mariner,” written in the late 18^th century.

 In Coleridge’s poem, after the ancient mariner commits a sin by killing the albatross, guilts hounds him. The ship he was on was wrecked by a storm and its crew of sailors sank to the bottom of the sea. The mariner was its sole survivor.

Without getting into the discussion on why Sutzkever chose that metaphor, I remember being astonished and utterly awestruck at the fact that he was familiar with Coleridge’s work. Moreover, I was very impressed by how well he incorporated it into his poem.

After having delved into some of his other poems, I understood the profundity and talent that Sutzkever possessed. I was intrigued, curious and challenged by his poetic gift and decided to learn more about him. What I discovered was overwhelming.

Poetry, Yiddish poetry it turns out was Sutzkever’s survival mechanism during the harsh daily reality of life in the Vilna Ghetto. That did not come as a surprise to me. Having been exposed to the pearls of Yiddish culture, values, its humour, I was aware of their potential to generate a perennial spring, keeping its speakers’ spirits and minds forever alive and alert. They were the source of vitality, endurance, and resilience that prepared, guided and supported Jews through the monstrous chapter European Jewish history.

Sutzkever wrote a poem every day during his stay at the Vilna Ghetto. He was also involved in the vibrant cultural life and activities in the Ghetto and was even able to salvage some literary works.

Following their liberation, Sutzkever, his wife and young daughter made their way to Eretz Yisrael.

Unfortunately, in the early days of the nascent state, Yiddish was discouraged from being taught, spoken. It was suppressed and even banned. To modern day Yisraelis, it was the language of the Diaspora, the language of the people who had allowed themselves to be led to slaughter without much resistance. Many mocked and ridicule me for speaking it with my grandmother. Many continued to mock me for teaching it to my daughter.

 I vowed, then, that I will do whatever is in my powers to preserve that great and wealthy culture. It is the fiber of my essence, the culture that helped shape my destiny and that of my offspring. I, we owe it to hundreds of years of Jewish survival and to all the immolation our Jewish brothers and sisters have endured to keep its practice alive and thriving.

It will not stop with me. It cannot stop with me.