Ya'akov and the Spotted Sheep

A few years ago, a rabbi from M'chon Pu'ah delivered a series of lectures to our s'micha class in Israel. The lectures were designed to give future rabbis insight into the complexities of fertility treatments and halachot which deal with reproduction. At the end of the first session, he told us a fascinating, novel approach he had regarding Ya'akov's spotted and striped sheep. While it may not be quite the pshat, it certainly is interesting.

In the story, Lavan gives Ya'akov only block colored animals. The striped, spotted and banded ones stay with Lavan's sons. Ya'akov puts striped branches within the sheeps' sight when they drink, and when they mate, they somehow give birth to striped animals. Of course, this seems non-sensical. I always understood the story as Ya'akov doing his best hishtadlut and Hashem lending a hand. But how?

When Ya'akov explains how he is so successful to his wives, he tells them of a vision he had when approached by an angel of God. "Behold, all the males that mated with the ewes, were striped, spotted and banded." How does Ya'akov's vision match the reality of the situation?

In genetics, there are dominant and recessive genes. In peas, to use one facet of Gregor Mendel's experiments, green peas are recessive, and yellow are dominant. The way genetics work is that a plant or animal inherits two sets of genes, one from each parent. As long as there is one dominant, the pea expresses a fully dominant phenotype, and will be yellow. Only when both inherited alleles are recessive will the phenotype be expressed as green.

It has been some time, but I hope that I accurately relate what Rabbi Brownstein explained: Striped and spotted sheep are the result of a recessive genetic mutation. The block colored ones are dominant. It so happens, he said, that the recessive gene also relates to earlier heat seasons.

When Ya'akov had a flock of block colored sheep, he had homozygous and heterozygous males and females. The sheep that were ready to mate earlier would likely carry a recessive gene for spotting and striping, heterozygously. Thus, the ewes ready for mating earlier, even though they were identical in phenotype to the homozygous sheep, were ones that could produce homozygous recessive babies, if mated with males that also carried the recessive gene.

This is the 'opening of the eyes' that the angel performed on Ya'akov. He allowed Ya'akov to 'see' the stripes that were latent in the block colored animals, and taught him that the only way to have a high number of striped offspring would be to allow heterozygotes to mate with heterozygotes. Allow the animals that were ready to mate early to mate together, and then segregate all striped and spotted offspring, permitting them only to reproduce amongst themselves, maintaining the homozygous recessive genes in his flocks.

All that is left are the branches in the watering troughs. It seems that in ancient times, this type of trick was believed to have worked. In fact, the Talmud records just such a popular belief in the idea that what one sees can influence the look of one's offspring (see Brachot and Niddah; exact pages forthcoming). Ya'akov's actions are nothing more than the use of the best animal husbandry knowledge of his time. It is a model for us of hishtadlut.

Poetry I Like II

In the second installment of "Poetry I Like", I present to you Gerard Manley Hopkins, and King David. Hopkins was born in 1844, on July 28. He became a Catholic priest, but found himself better suited to writing and teaching. He studied Welsh, and incorporated into his English poetry what he called "sprung rhythm". This constantly changing rhythm, rising and falling, was meant to demonstrate the immanence of God in his poetry. Later in life, he became depressed, and feared that his prayers did not reach God. This doubt was painful, but, as he died of Typhoid fever in 1889, he said, 'I am happy, so happy.'

Below is my favorite of all his poems, which recalls to mind very strongly the verses of chapter 104 in Psalms. I find the lilting meter and substance of Hopkins echoing these verses. And so, first Hopkins, and then the psalm.

Glory be to God for dappled things—For skies of couple-colour as a brinded cow;
For rose-moles all in stipple upon trout that swim;
Fresh-firecoal chestnut-falls; finches’ wings;
Landscape plotted and pieced—fold, fallow, and plough;
And áll trádes, their gear and tackle and trim.

All things counter, original, spare, strange;
Whatever is fickle, freckled (who knows how?)
With swift, slow; sweet, sour; adazzle, dim;
He fathers-forth whose beauty is past change: Praise him.

--GM Hopkins

תהום, כלבוש כיסיתו; על הרים, יעמדו מים.
מן גערתך ינוסון; מן קול רעמך, ייחפזון.
יעלו הרים, יירדו בקעות-- אל מקום, זה יסדת להם.
גבול שמת, בל יעבורון; בל ישובון, לכסות הארץ.
המשלח מעיינים, בנחלים; בין הרים, יהלכון.
ישקו, כל חיתו שדיי; ישברו פראים צמאם.
עליהם, עוף השמיים ישכון; מבין עופיים, ייתנו קול...

הכפירים, שואגים לטרף; ולבקש מא-ל, אוכלם.
תזרח השמש, ייאספון; ואל מעונותם, ירבצון.
ייצא אדם לפועלו; ולעבודתו עדי ערב.
מה רבו מעשיך, ה'-- כולם, בחכמה עשית;מלאה הארץ קניינך.

תהילים קד:ח-יב, כ-כד

Modesty and Openness

I am sure that there are some people out there who have been following the discussion in which I have made the point that modesty is necessary even when discussing adult topics. As it seems that many have misunderstood my point of view, and feel that I am trying to 'police' other blogs, I will clarify my position here.

First of all, let me begin with the good. I think it is great that people want to know the halachik view of matters between husband and wife. It speaks of the holiness that an authentic Jewish life can engender, when bloggers ask important questions regarding intimacy within the framework of Jewish law. It happens far too often that both women and men, when meeting their 'marriage teachers' (חתן or כלה teachers), are too embarrassed (or too naiive) to ask detail-oriented questions. Teachers should be bringing up these issues if the prospective bride or groom do not mention them. All to often, tragically, these classes are the first and last exposure the couple has to a religious figure that invites them to ask anything they need. I believe that people require open relationships with honest, trustworthy clergy, so that questions can be posed and answered in a professional and private manner.

It is inevitable that many people will not be exposed to this kind of support system. In this day and age, people turn to the internet, and lately, blogs, to find answers and camaraderie in their quest for fulfilling relationships and lives. This is fine, and there are many sites where rabbis answer anonymous questions in a respectful and halachik way. (Without endorsing any, here are some links: askmoses, kippah, and shoresh.)

When we find out about the details of what is permitted, we fulfill our responsibility to build a healthy relationship with our spouse, while attending our duty to act within the framework of the Torah. However, the danger that lurks at the edges of this important exploration is that a public discussion of these issues, innocently begun with the best of intentions, can quickly degenerate into the presentation of salacious details for the voyeuristic excitement of the audience. This is what happened on one of the threads in the blogosphere, and it is the inherent danger of any public discussion of what traditionally was the most private of issues, discussed between man, woman and respected halachik authority.

The Shulchan Aruch (Even Haezer 21:1-15) and Yad Hachazaka (Hil. Issurei Biah 21) make it clear that experiences which cause a person improper thoughts for unacceptable reasons is against the law. We are a holy nation. When we learn about what is permitted and what is forbidden, we do it with seriousness. We do not do it in a forum where the discussion will turn into the lowest talk of pubs and beer-halls.

I applaud the desire to know more about how we treat intimacy in halacha. I think the internet can be a good source of information. However, everyone who takes part in such discussions is responsible to make sure that the information is in keeping with the halachik standards of tzniut, and cut off any wandering from the goal honest and serious study of issues between man and woman.

May we merit our Nation שוכן לשבטיו, with love and happiness in abundance, within the bounds of our holy Torah.

Fortitude and Patience

The following poem reminded me of the Yerushalmi I quote afterwards. Both remind us of the calm inevitability of the גאולה.

Say not the Struggle Nought Availeth

Say not, the struggle nought availeth,
The labour and the wounds are vain,
The enemy faints not, nor faileth,
And as things have been they remain.

If hopes were dupes, fears may be liars;
It may be, in yon smoke concealed,
Your comrades chase e'en now the fliers,
And, but for you, possess the field.

For while the tired waves, vainly breaking,
Seem here no painful inch to gain,
Far back, through creeks and inlets making,
Comes silent, flooding in, the main.

And not by eastern windows only,
When daylight comes, comes in the light,
In front, the sun climbs slow, how slowly,
But westward, look, the land is bright.

--Arthur Hugh Clough, 1869

ר’ חייא רובה ור”ש בן חלפתא הוו מהלכין בהדא בקעת ארבל בקריצתא ראו אילת השחר שבקע אורה א”ר חייא רובה לר”ש בן חלפתא בר ר’ כך היא גאולתן של ישראל בתחילה קימעא קימעא כל שהיא הולכת היא הולכת ומאיר מאי טעמא (מיכה ז) כי אשב בחשך ה’ אור לי.

The rabbis were walking in a valley during the harvest time, and witnessed the day-break as its light broke forth. One said, "Such is the redemption of Israel: first, it is bit by bit, but as it goes on, the light continues to grow, as the prophet states, 'Even as I sit in darkness, God is my light'."

-- ירושלמי יומא, פרק ג, דף מ, עמ’ ב

Rivkah and Avraham

When Eliezer goes to find a wife for Yitzchak, the Torah tells us that he found 'Rivkah coming out, who was born to Betuel'. (Gen. 24:15) This seems quite redundant, as in 22:23, the Torah has already told us the exact same fact, that Rivkah was born to Betuel. What is being added here? Further, the verb used in our verse is pu'al, effectively making Betuel's fathering of Rivkah passive. Why this change from 22:23 and, indeed, most other similar situations in scripture, where the verb is active?

Rabbi Levi Yitzchak of Berditchiv has an interesting explanation. Rivkah, he says, was born to Betuel, it is true, but not in his merit, and not for him. Rivkah was given to Betuel for Avraham. Avraham is the hidden cause for the birth, and she carries his personality, as a proof of authenticity. Rivkah's capacity for loving-kindness is unique in her generation, and recalls Avraham's chessed. It is for this reason that Eliezer was so sure of his selection.

All middot must be balanced by an opposing one. Too much strictness is dangerous, and so is too much kindness. Especially in raising a family (or, in the fore-fathers' cases, a nation), we need to make sure we provide a balance of traits as examples for our children. Each fore-father had a specific characteristic. Avraham was full of loving-kindness, while Yitzchak exemplified gevurah, strict justice. In order for them to produce successful families, they needed the input of opposing traits from their wives. It is clear from last week's parashah that Sarah was able to provide the trait of gevurah, as we see from her sending away Yishmael when he became a bad influence.

Yitzchak needed a balance, and this was provided by Rivkah's loving-kindness. The proper mate for Yitzchak had to be inspired by Avraham's trait.

The Talmud (Bava Batra 16b) records an argument. Some amoraim hold that Avraham had a daughter, implied by the verse stating that Avraham was blessed with everything. Others hold he had no daughter. Perhaps this view of Rabbi Levi Yitzchak in his Kedushat HaLevi can make peace between the two views.

It is only with a harmonious balance of traits on display in a Jewish home can children be raised with a healthy atmosphere of love and strictness. Our fore-bearers are a lesson to us in how we must structure our homes for the benefit of our children and, indeed, for all of Israel.

Last Note on Providence

What comes out of our previous discussions of divine providence is that (according to Rambam and Ramban) God does not always actively make a good or bad thing happen to us. Sometimes, it is a product of the natural general providence. However, this does not take away from the fact that God did allow this to occur. If an event could not fit in with the divine plan for the world, it would be stopped before it occurred.

Therefore, when evil befalls us, we can use it as an impetus from God to mend our ways and repent. By allowing this event, God has given us a doorway through which to move towards greater spiritual growth. We may find a specific action on our part that this event corresponds to, and treat it as individual providence, or we may not, and simply treat is as falling under the rubric of general providence. The same can be said for good events that befall us.

We can find comfort and solace in the fact that no evil could befall us, even through general providence, if it could not be reconciled with the ultimate designs of God for the course of world events. God may allow evil to occur, even when it goes against His will, but he would not allow it to occur if it would derail the ultimate plan.

And so, the destruction of the Temples, the crusades, the Holocaust, and on an individual level, even the loss of a cherished infant, are certainly not the way God may have wanted the world to act. However, his very allowance of these events testifies to their being compatible with ultimate redemption and meaning in life.

Yahrtzeit

As we move further and further into the nightmare of Oslo and land for peace, Rabbi Kahane's Yahrtzeit today reminds us of where we should be: a proud nation, steadfastly faithful to God, demonstrating power and security before its enemies.

May we soon merit his dream.

The Pride of the IDF

Loosely translated from the Maariv article:

"In unit 202 of the paratroop brigade, the religious soldiers choose to vacation in a yeshiva.

Ever fighter in the IDF waits for this moment. After endless guard duties and ambushes, after training and pressure, the unit earns a week of vacation. It happens about once a month, and when it comes, the soldiers celebrate. When this celebration came to unit 202, many of the soldiers chose to spend their vacation in Torah lectures, spiritually uplifting talks, and meetings with rabbis.

The soldiers approached the rabbi of their unit, and explained that they felt a need to strengthen their resolve with Torah study. He turned to the Hesder yeshivas, and they organized a Torah-oriented vacation for the soldiers in Karnei Shomron.

The soldiers enjoyed Torah study as well as separate swimming. One of the soldiers explained: "Our life choices lead us to combine Torah and army service. For us to learn for two days in between our operational responsibilities and training is a spiritual necessity."

Tomorrow these soldiers will join their comrades in Givat Olga for a day of sports. Lior Lifshitz, dean of the Hesder yeshiva in Karnei Shomron, said that, "These guys are used to learning. Two days of return to the study halls is a tonic for them, and it is what does them good." He pointed out that when these soldiers have weekends off the base, they spend them in yeshivas.

Hesder soldiers serve the army for sixteen months, and for three and a half years, study in yeshivas. Most of the students serve in fighting units. In the officer's course that ended last week, ten of the graduates were yeshiva students."

While every Jew, religious or secular, can connect to Israel and Am Yisrael, serving and defending, it is these religious soldiers, who carry in one hand the sword of Gideon, and in the other hand, the Book of God, who embody our national spirit completely. May God guide them to victory in war and success in Torah.

The Binding of Yitzchak

At the end of this week's reading appears the narrative of the binding of Yitzchak, עקדת יצחק. This is how the prayer service of Rosh Hashanah refers to it, "ועקדת יצחק לזרעו ברחמים תזכור." And indeed, Rabbi Hirsch explains that this was a great test of Yitzchak's faith. Yitzchak only found out about this command of Hashem through his oral law-giver, his father. As the Talmud (Sanhedrin 89b) explains, this הוראת שעה, temporary commandment was only relied upon because Avraham had proven himself a true conduit of God's word.

However, the Torah narrates the event as the climactic test of Avraham's faith. His son is passive, inactive, throughout the story. It is Avraham who is commanded by God to bring his son up on an altar, and demonstrate his willingness to sacrifice everything he worked for, and all his hopes for the future, at God's command. Why does the Torah put the emphasis on Avraham?

(It is worth noting, when mentioning this theologically difficult episode, that the pshat is clear that God never intended Avraham to actually carry through with the sacrifice. The Torah decries human sacrifice such as מולך, and the words והעלהו שם לעולה imply that he is only to be brought up, but not slaughtered. The lesson was to be one of devotion to God's will to the extent that, when commanded, we are willing to follow blindly God's word, even when it seems to contradict everything we know about the world and His ways. It is a lesson in humility and יראת שמים, and, according to Rav Kook, a demonstration that passion and active service do not take a back seat to abstract philosophy in Avraham's (and Judaism's) philosophy.)

Rav Yosef Dov, author of the Beis HaLevi, has an interesting take on this. He writes that the harder test was not Yitzchak's. Yitzchak was charged with a martyr's death. Although this is certainly a high level, and a tremendous test, it is absolutely terminative. His martyrdom would not create any emotional, theological or psychological crises in the future because, quite simply, passing his test he would cease to exist.

Not so for Avraham's test. When Yitzchak is gone, Avraham would be left with a void in his life. His most prized acquisition in this world, his whole hope for the future, Yitzchak, would be gone, and Avraham would be left with a sterile existence that would leave no possibility of God's lessons and Avraham's worldview being propagated in this world. Avraham would be left emotionally and psychologically scarred as well. The test for Avraham is less the commandment to sacrifice his son, and more the order to actively destroy all hope for the good future of mankind.

The Beis Halevi points out that while many people would be willing to make the catastrophic show of faith of dying על קידוש השם, it is harder to find people who are willing to forego personal comforts, and live without something they truly desire, for God. Living for God is harder than dying for him. This is why the Torah calls it a test of Avraham. He is the one who we must model, with a willingness to be stripped of all material, emotional and psychological goods in God's service.

In our times, it may seem that the aspects of קידוש השם, martyrdom for God, is not something we need worry about. We do not experience existential fear while serving God. However, we do experience the test of Avraham in our own ways. We give up on prestige, comfort and ease for shabbat, yamim tovim, and kashruth. וחי בהם, living for God through the tests of everyday life, is the more intense and protracted test. It is the one we can find glory through in our lives.

The Dialectic of Individual and Community

Last week, we discussed the emergence of the creative individual, and the accompanying elevation from mediocrity engendered by an individual's spiritual activity. Rabbi Carmy, in the same essay, presents the other side of the coin.

In the Guide, Rambam states that those who interpret every trouble and annoyance in life as expressions of hashgacha pratit are guilty of the tragic flaw, hubris. The assumption is all too common that we are in tune with God to a greater extent than our peers, and there is more meaning in everyday troubles for us than others. Rambam calls a person who feels this way foolish, and writes against expecting too much hashgacha pratit. There is great divine wisdom in the shepherding of the flock, and there is great human self-knowledge in the concession that perhaps, in the words of Rabbi Carmy, "vanity, spiritual self-indulgence, and sullen self-justification" lead us to expect too much individual attention.

Rav Kook echoes this when he states that the cringing in the face of personal suffering and troubles prevents the natural love and reverence towards the divine. Individuals and the collective nation can thus become spiritually and physically sick. A pre-occupation with hashgacha pratit can paralyze our abilities to perform our tasks in this life, causing us to constantly evaluate and re-evaluate ourselves vis-à-vis God and what he has allowed to befall us. This is what Rabbi Carmy refers to as "hothouse hashgacha theology".

It is also clear that, however great a human being's personal achievements, they are only possible in the cultural and social milieu into which he is born and raised. Science, theology, logic, music, art and language are all fields which clearly demonstrate that great progress is made on the shoulders of those who came before. And so, as much as a man may like to view himself, and have God view him, as an individual, he cannot and should not completely shake off the shackles of his species.

I would posit therefore that there is great benefit in being viewed, both by God and by ourselves, as members of a Nation, and not simply as individuals worthy of individual attention. Our achievements are only attainable because of our origins, and our nation is the repository of a wealth of cultural and intellectual treasures that fuel our creativity.

Even more than this, the hashgacha klalit that the nation provides us is not simply a lower level of providence, one that should be replaced with hashgacha pratit at all costs. The national providence in play in hashgacha klalit is a powerful mechanism of protection for the individual. As Rav Kook points out in his essay, "Process of Ideas in Israel," the national identity provides immortality to our actions in this world. We are supposed to see ourselves as gaining fulfillment through our national identity. Further, the national destiny of Israel collects even sinners, and allows them to be gathered up in the salvation of the nation. (See Vayikra Rabba 3, where the midrash compares the different parts of the nation to the elements of the mitzvah of lulav. The midrash ends, יבאו אלו ויכפרו על אלו, teaching that even sinners are forgiven and provided for in the redemption.) Indeed, there is unique value and protection that national providence is capable of, that individual providence simply cannot reach.

This point is elaborated upon by the כלי יקר (Sh'mot 30:11-12) in Ki Tisa. He asks a number of questions regarding the nature of protection that donating money provides from the dangers of being singled out by counting. Perhaps, he says, each individual will be remembered and inspected and found wanting. However, as the shunamite woman said of herself, "sitting amongst my nation" can defend against just such analysis.

The national aspect of a Jew provides him with providence vital to survival. And so it is that an individual constantly experiences this paradox, the dialectic between his individual identity, and that of his nation. To abdicate either is to sign one's own spiritual, intellectual and emotional death warrant. Forever vacillating between these two extremes, we nurture ourselves from both springs, never fully our own personality, and never simply part of a group.

Thus judged, we become deserving of the protective qualities of both hashgachot, protected from anonymity on the one side, and from the lonely starkness of isolated individuality on the other.

Individual Providence and Avraham

In Rabbi Carmy's Essay, "Tell Them I've Had a Good Enough Life", he points out a contradiction in Rambam's Guide, and shows how Rabbi Soloveitchik resolves it. In chapter 17, Rambam differentiates between the animal world, which is run on hashgacha klalit, general providence, and the human world, which runs, additionally, on hashgacha pratit, individualized attention from God. However, in chapter 18, Miamonides states that individual attention is bestowed upon one who actively seeks and engages the Divine.

This apparent contradiction is resolved in Halachik Man. Rabbi Soloveitchik divides humanity's existence into two modes. The first is representative of nothing more than an incarnation of the platonic form 'Man'. He is simply an example, an instance of mankind. He lives with no special understanding of any higher purpose, and his existence as a human is analogous to the existence of a cow as a bovine; he naturally participates in the life-cycle and perpetuation of his species. To quote the Rav, he "has never done anything that could...legitimate his existence as an individual." He is not an individual. His reality is mired in the mediocrity of humanity.

On the other hand, a human being can transcend this earthly, animalistic persona. By engaging the universe as a creative, active participant, he elevates himself out of the hum-drum of the species. He thinks, designs, and strives for further understanding of the world around him, his purpose in it, and his relationship to his Creator. Such a person has raised himself out of the mediocrity of his species, and "lives not on account of being born but for the sake of life itself, and so that he may merit thereby the life in the world to come."

And so, one who, through his actions, acts as a creature of the species Man (quantitatively, but not quantitatively, above other animals), is treated with hashgacha klalit. It is a person who sees the glory and grandeur of the calling of Man, qualitatively different from other creatures, who is provided with hashgacha pratit.

Ultimately, the design of Man is to obligate him to strengthen that relationship to God. He is commanded to create, improve and elevate his existence, and, in doing so, to increase the level of providence he is showered with from Above. "When a person creates himself, ceases to be a mere species man, and becomes a man of God, then he has fulfilled that commandment which is implicit in the principle of providence." Indeed, Rabbi Carmy points out, the very act of turning to God at a time of distress, and not discounting the troubles experienced as random occurrences, turns a person into an individual, and allows them to be judged so by Him.

This distinction may highlight the difference between Avraham and his nephew, Lot. Lot's choice to live with the wicked of Sodom for the economic benefits showed himself an excellent example of a human being allowing himself to be led by his animalistic tendencies. He goes where it is most economically prudent, and when there, he does not influence the people to be better, but hides the lessons he learned in his uncle's household from the Sodomites. He is therefore caught in the dragnet of the hashgacha klalit of the war between empires, and is only saved by Avraham. Even from the destruction of the city, he is only saved by the relationship he shares with Avraham.

On the other hand, Avraham, the quintessential Man in search of his Lord, finds hashgacha pratit in his fiery furnace, his battles, and ultimately, his quest for continuity through Isaac.

Forty Years of Jerusalem

It is forty years since God gave us the blessing of a unified Jerusalem. And it seems that, in forty years, we have squandered the miracles and blessings showered upon us before the eyes of the world in the Six Day War. Ehud Olmert, Prime Minister of Israel, is ready to hand over parts of Jerusalem to the arabs who have never ceased to call for our destruction.

We have tried everything that has been suggested. Land for Peace is a proven farce, and unilateral withdrawl brings our enemies closer than ever with more sophisticated weapons that they bring across their open border with Egypt. Israel suffers from a lack of enthusiasm because its citizens know that what they fight for heroically today will be seen as oppression and conquest tomorrow. Without Torah, zionism cannot survive, and we witness the pathetic crumbling of secular zionism with politicians who are willing to trade Israel's very security for a smile and handshake from US presidents and Arab terrorists.

And now, we come to the lowest point: The most obvious miracle performed in 2000 years, the return of the Jews to Jerusalem and to the Temple Mount, is turned into a trading card. The splendor and spiritual meaning of our redemption of our holiest place is lost in Olmert's desire for international approval. And the nation sits desolate, in apathy and shame.

In his book, Forty Years, Rabbi Kahane writes:

"The idea first entered my head as I sat, one day, in Ramle Prison. It was the eve of Tisha B'Av, the tragic commemoration of the destruction of both Temples, the beginning of both terrible exiles. I sat, reviewing the book of Jonah, with its message of repentance, on the day of national tragedy. Jonah enters the city of Nineveh, to which he has been sent by the Al-Mighty, to warn them of impending destruction unless they repent. And as I read, the words of Jonah to the people suddenly leaped out at me: "In forty days, Nineveh shall be overturned!"

Forty. The thought suddenly struck me: How many times, again and again, does that number arise in connection with sin and punishment? "And the rain was on the earch forty days and forty nights." (Genesis 7:12), the punishment of a world flooded for its sin. Forty. And centuries later, as the Jews of the desert "despised the pleasant land" and wept over their "home" in Egypt, the Al-Mighty angrily decreed that the generation of the desert would not enter the Holy Land, saying: "And your children will wander in the wilderness forty years and bear your faithlessness." (Numbers 14:33) Again, forty. And the punishment of stripes, whipping, is one of "Forty shall he strike him, he shall not increase," and the atonement for sin and the purification process begins with a study of Torah given forty days at Sinai continuing in a mikva, ritualarium, whose waters must be a minimum of forty S'ah.

...And iddn that tiny cell in prison the thought expanded. Not only was the concept "forty" tied to sin and punisment, it was specifically connected to the warning of G-d to the sinner, a warning designed to avert that punishment. Jonah warns Nineveh of impending punishment and this gives them a grace period of forty days during which they might search their souls and change their ways.

In the case of both Holy Temples, the Al-Mighty gave the Jewish people a period of forty years of grace; time to think and rethink their ways. Time to return to Him and save themselves from that punishment. In the awful final days of the first Jewish state, the L-rd tells the prophet Ezekiel: "And thou shalt lie again on your right side and bear the iniquity of the house of Judah, forty days; each day for a year, each day for a year." (Ezekiel 4:6)

...Once again, the period of grace. Forty years. The final hope of the Al-Mighty that, perhaps, His final warning would be heeded. The countdown of forty years, the last chance.

...For make no mistake. The magnificent miracle of return and rise of a Jewish State is surely the beginning of the Final Redemption, but hardly the end. THe true finality, the magnificent era of Messiah, comes to fruition gloriously and majestically and breathtakingly only if we cleave to the great axiom: "If you walk in my statues...I will give peace in the land." (Leviticus 26)

...This is the choice; the only choice. All the rest is nonsense. And time ticks away and the decision is in our hands.

...And it become clearer and clearer to me that, once again, it is forty years; forty years of warning, admonition, opportunity. The final chance."

It is up to us. The nation must decide. We must struggle as we have never struggled before, to stop the politicians who, whether or not they realize it, bring us to the brink of disaster. As long as it has not happened, we can still avert it.

Rav Kook on the Documentary Hypothesis

Someone (X.) brought up Rav Kook's comments in קבצים מכתב יד קדשו that purportedly say that believing in the "DH is not a problem". I think this is a serious stretch for the words of Rav Kook. Firstly, the DH purports that none of the Torah was written by God. It was all weaved together from different authors. Rav Kook speaks of the belief that some parts of the Torah were written in post Mosaic times. Also, Rav Kook ends up with a far more mystical approach to Torah מן השמים, from Heaven, than X. would accept. It seems that Rav Kook is being taken out of context and used against his true meaning. Therefore, I will post a translation, and readers can decide.

What follows is the fourth problem that leads people to leave orthodoxy, as posed by Rav Kook, and his response to it (The Hebrew text can be found at XGH. First the question, then the first page of the answer, and then then the second page of the answer):

"[Problem:] Biblical criticism weakens the foundation of Torah from Heaven, chas veshalom.

[Response:] The truth is as our received tradition states, that nothing has changed the Torah, which has been preserved always with utmost care. However, even according to the incorrect idea that some portions were written later or that certain scribal errors found their way into it, this does not affect in any way the Torah or its authenticity. The authenticity of the Torah is dependent on the acceptance of the Nation, and the Nation accepted and continues to accept it with love. The Nation used [and uses] the Torah in its present form as a symbol of our covenant of faith in God. Therefore, it is impossible for an individual to remove himself from the plural [the Nation], for by the nature of any bond of covenant that is made by general [national] consensus, and by the nature of actions that are accepted [by all as powerful and binding] as national language, and [like] ethics [social norms -ed.] that are accepted by all, no individual is able to change [the covenant ] in opposition to the plural consensus. When one does try to change [his participation in this covenant ], he oppresses his own soul.

Now we can understand well the Godly bond that is present in the Torah, no matter how it reached us, and there is no difference whatsoever what circumstances brought it to us in this [its present] form. Since the pieces are all woven into the Torah, they are included in the Divine holiness. In this Israel is unique [מצויין can also mean noted. -ed.] from all nations, in that the existence of the Nation is bound in being known by the name of the Lord of the world, by which [Whose name] it [the Nation of Israel] is called.

Therefore, the commandments in their entirety, which are bound in the Divine bond, since they are tied to the Torah and written in it, are all in the grasp of the covenant of God. He who keeps them keeps the covenant, and he who breaks them, acts against the covenant . And if there are things which need to be strengthened or weakened [דברים שימצא צורך להחמיר או להקל באופן אחר קצת], the issue is given to the power of the Beit Din [when there are reasons, they have the power even] to uproot actively a part of the Torah. Meanwhile, without a central Beit Din accepted by the Nation, and with, additionally, a national stronghold, we are unable to the spiritual center of the nation for nothing...

When the Torah is upheld by Israel, the feeling is so pure and refined, and the bond to the Torah is so great, that those who have true intellect come to an inner knowledge that there is no place at all for those questions [questions from biblical criticism], for they recognize the hand of God that is spread out over us, who did wonders for us from then until now, so that we cleave to him with love. From a recognition of the greatness of Torah, we recognize its Divinity, so that all the stutterings are done away with from their root, and Israel does well, and the Torah of God is its stronghold."

The Torah is unassailable. It is definitely written by God and given at Sinai. However, even according to those who question each word's origin at Sinai, Rav Kook develops a world-view that maintains the divinity of the Torah as we possess it. The soul of Israel accepted the Torah. God endowed our National soul with a prophetic uniqueness. Its acceptance of things is a type of prophecy. And so, the fact that our nation accepted the Torah makes it God-given through this secondary prophecy, even if you believe that parts were not written originally by Hashem. Even if all of it were not revealed at Sinai, the Torah as we have it in our hands has been turned into prophecy by the soul of the nation of Israel throughout the generations. Even without all its parts being given at Sinai, those later parts would still become part of Torah through Am Yisrael ratification with the national nevuah-spirit.

Furthermore, now that the Torah its entirety has been ratified, no individual can deny its divinity. By doing so, they would be contradicting their own soul's testimony.

Rav Kook ends by reaffirming his stance, true to the nation, that the Torah was in fact given in its entirety to the Nation of Israel on Mt. Sinai.

Fear Protects Wisdom

כל שיראת חטאו קודמת לחכמתו חכמתו מתקיימת. אם אין יראה אין חכמה, אם אין חכמה אין יראה. --אבות ג:יב,טו
One whose fear of sin precedes his wisdom will retain his wisdom. If there is no fear, there can be no wisdom, and lack of wisdom implies lack of fear.

Of God's creations, humanity is the only one that is compared to Him by being made in His image. Rav Soloveitchick writes that the quality that represents this is our creative mind. Man can freely create and invent, using his intellect to participate in the creation process that God began.

However, this intellect also has the free-willed ability to rebel against He who endowed it. History is full of rebellion against God, and seldom does rebellion come without innovative philosophical support for it. Man doubts God or His word with the very intellect whose existence testifies to Him. Some believe in God, yet doubt the veracity of the Torah. I have heard people confindent in the impossibility of a flood or an exodus or a forty year sojourn in the desert, based on flimsy archeological excavation that is far from complete, and far from convincing. And when these methods (which are far from science) fail, they miss the lesson of the inherent problem with the way they study archeology, that לא מצינו אינו רעיא, lack of evidence is proof of nothing.

And yet, skeptics say, what are we to do? We cannot be intellectually dishonest. We must rely on the minds that we are blessed with, and accept whatever seems to us to be true, no matter where it leads. To this, masechet Avot responds.

Proper fear of sin holds our imaginative intellect in check. A world-view which admits that there is a source of wisdom above us provides us with a sine qua non of intellectual study -- humility. The understanding that there are things we may not know, that the best of our methodologies do not always lead us to certainty, this forces us to be less confident in what we think we know. When we have proper humility and a deep-seated fear of sin, of mistake, we can begin to search for truth. With the lesson of Avot we can be confident that our search for truth will not end in falsehood rooted in haughty assumptions. The world's intellectual history is full of those, and fear of Heaven is the gift, the rabbis teach, that can defend us from them, even as we plumb the depths of the unknown.

Shmini Atzeres and Water

During all days of Sukos (aside from the first) and Shmini Atzeret (the eighth day of Sukos), there was a beautiful ceremony performed in the Temple. Recorded in the fourth chapter of tractate Sukah, ניסוך המים consisted of water being drawn from the שילוח stream and brought to the altar. The water was then poured through a spout on the copper altar. ספר התודעה points out that the celebration is called שמחת בית השואבה, placing the emphasis on the drawing of water. This teaches us that the main point of this celebration was the drawing of spiritual sustenance, רוח הקודש, from the sources of Godliness.

On the last day of Sukos, water makes a second appearance. It is this day that we begin to hint at our need for rain in תפילת גשם. (There are two places in our daily prayers where we mention rain. The first is in the blessing of אבות, in which we do not request rain, but praise God as the 'One who makes the wind blow, and causes the rain to fall'. Afterwards, in the section of our t'fillah where we petition God, we insert an actual request for rain, 'send dew and rain as a blessing upon the earth'.) We do not actually begin to pray for rain in the daily prayer ברכת השנים until the second month of the year, so as to give Jews who made the pilgrimage to Jerusalem time to reach their homes in dry weather. However, since the season in which precipitation is needed starts with Sukos, we do begin to praise God as Giver of rain on Shmini Atzeres, in the blessing of אבות.

Why does water play such a central role on Shmini Atzeres and Simchas Torah, a day of rejoicing in the spiritual gifts God has given us?

In Jewish symbolism, water is a metaphor for Torah. Yeshaya (55:1) states, 'Let all those who are thirsty, go to water', and the Talmud (Bava Kama 82a) explains that this means that anyone who thirsts for meaning in life can find it in the teachings of the Torah. After leaving Egypt, the people cried out for water at Marah. The rabbis teach that for the Jewish people, going three days without Torah was insufferable; it was then that Moshe decreed that the Torah be read on Mondays and Thursdays, so that there should never again be three consecutive days without Torah-water being studied.

Indeed, the Rambam at the end of his synopsis of הלכות מקוואות, echoes the midrash, שיר השירים רבה. It states that, just as water cleans us of physical filth and ritual impurity, diligence in Torah purifies our mind and soul from intellectual and spiritual impropriety. The study of the word of God and the desire to become close to Him through His teaching is the most ethereal of our pursuits. Water, a liquid which arrives from heaven and, with a bit of heat, becomes a vapor to rise to the heights, is the perfect analogy for this.

Physical life could not exist without water. Rabbi Schorsch points out that the search for life on distant planets begins with a search for water. In the same way, spiritual existence is impossible without Torah. And so, Rabbi Chaim from Volhozin writes in נפש החיים, that, were it not for the study of the Torah, the wold would not be able to exist. He quotes Jer. 33:24, 'if not for my continued covenant day and night, the laws of nature would not have been established'. Nothing illustrates this point better than the martyrdom of Rabbi Akiva. The Talmud (Brachos 61b) tells us:

פעם אחת גזרה מלכות הרשעה שלא יעסקו ישראל בתורה בא פפוס בן יהודה ומצאו לרבי עקיבא שהיה מקהיל קהלות ברבים ועוסק בתורה אמר ליה עקיבא אי אתה מתירא מפני מלכות הרשעה אמר לו אמשול לך משל למה הדבר דומה לשועל שהיה מהלך על גב הנהר וראה דגים שהיו מתקבצים ממקום למקום אמר להם מפני מה אתם בורחים אמרו לו מפני רשתות שמביאין עלינו בני אדם אמר להם רצונכם שתעלו ליבשה ונדור אני ואתם כשם שדרו אבותי עם אבותיכם אמרו לו אתה הוא שאומרים עליך פקח שבחיות לא פקח אתה אלא טפש אתה ומה במקום חיותנו אנו מתיראין במקום מיתתנו על אחת כמה וכמה אף אנחנו עכשיו שאנו יושבים ועוסקים בתורה שכתוב בה (דברים ל) כי הוא חייך ואורך ימיך כך אם אנו הולכים ומבטלים ממנה עאכ"ו

When the Romans forbade the study of Torah on the pain of death, Rabbi Akiva continued to teach. A man asked if he was not concerned for his life! Rabbi Akiva answered with a parable: Some fish were swimming away from fishermen's nets. A fox saw them and said, why are you swimming? Come out on land and live with me in peace! The fish said, fool! If we are in danger in water, the element of world that allows us to live, how much more so will we die if we leave our life-giving medium! Fish cannot physically exist without water, and Rabbi Akiva declares that Jews cannot live spiritually without Torah.

The study of the Torah, must be done with the intent of enhancing this world and contributing to the revelation of God in it. In fact, the Talmud (Nedarim 81a) states that even though the Jews of the second Temple studied Torah, they were punished because they did not recite the blessing on it. The sin was that they saw Torah as a scholarly pursuit, but one devoid of spiritual and practical application. We must study and fulfill the Torah not as academia, but as a way to interface with God and serve Him, molding the world into one that better matches His plans.

In describing many קרבנות, the Torah calls them לחם אשה, food-fuel for the fires of God. Rabbi Hirsch explains that the קרבנות remind us to use our existence in this world as an opportunity to provide fuel for the service of God. We are on earth to do God's will, and bring the world to a better place, by following the Torah. And so, when we pour water on the altar in the ceremony of ניסוך המים, the symbol is clear. We are to use even our most ethereal and spiritual of pursuits, symbolized by water, for the service of God.

Perhaps this was the mistake of the Samaritan high priest, who, in the fourth chapter of Sukah poured the water on his own feet, instead of on the altar. He did not realize that spiritual pursuits are not for us, but ultimately must also be brought as a קרבן on the מזבח.

And so, for seven days, we draw water and pour it on the altar, showing ourselves and God that we plan to serve Him through the very life force, the Torah. And after this, we ask Him, on Shmini Atzeres, to provide us with rain. The Vilna Gaon quotes the kabalistic concept that in any venture, first we are required to put in our best try (איתערותא דלתתא), and after showing God the path we want to take, he inspires us from above (איתערותא דילעילא). Through ניסוך המים, we demonstrate our desire to, as ספר התודעה taught above, draw divine inspiration from our resources. Only after this attempt can we be bold enough to ask Hashem to shower us with rain and inspiration from above.

Demonstrating the interdependence of the physical and spiritual realms of our existence, the water celebrations trade places. On the Sukos holiday, which represents God's physical preservation of our nation, we demonstrate our willingness to use our abilities to plumb the depths of Torah in the ceremony of ניסוך המים. On Shmini Atzeres/Simchas Torah, we celebrate God's spiritual preservation of Israel, and ask him to continue to rain life-giving precipitation upon our crops and aqueducts. אם אין תורה, אין דרך ארץ, אם אין דרך ארץ, אין תורה.

The Sukkah of Faith

The mishnah teaches (Sukah 1:1) that a sukah that is built with its schach higher than twenty amos is invalid. The reason given in the gemara is that this extreme height implies permanence. However, the sukah must be diras aray, the opposite of permanent. Indeed, the roofing of the sukah is made of transitive materials, and its manner of placement must be ad hoc. It is not to be held down by metal or other man-made materials. However, the Davidic dynasty, the most resplendent demonstration of Israel's power and prestige, is referred to as a sukah: we say in the birkas hamazon, may God re-establish the sukah of David. What is the connection?

Rabbi Hirsch describes the symbolism of the schach. Sitting in the sukah, we leave the comfort and safety of our man-made dwellings. In our houses, it is easy to develop the feeling that we need our physical protection. We move into the temporary dwelling and remind ourselves that it is not the roof over our heads that protects us. We gladly trade the illusion of safety in kochi v'otzem yadi, the strength of our hands, for the protective care of God. In the sukah, exposed to the elements and sitting under a non-roof, we demonstrate that it is really Hashem who we rely on. He protects us in recompense for our actions, and our spiritual relationship to Him is what truly defends us against danger.

In a few weeks, we will read about Ya'akov wrestling the angel of Esav. The text describes the attack of the angel as, 'vaye'avek', he raised dust against Ya'akov. Rabbi Hirsch comments that it is more than just raising dust due to the actual struggle, but that the angel of Esav tried with all his might to bring Ya'akov down to the dust, to completely take him off his feet, to the ground. Realizing that this was impossible, the angel settled for bruising Ya'akov's sciatic nerve, his gid hanasheh.The angel leaves our forefather, and he continues on his way back to his family, limping into the sunrise, 'v'hu tzole'a' al y'recho'.

A person's legs symbolize the ability to take care of oneself and be stable. The nation of Israel limps through history, not quite able to walk upright. We are visibly weakened in the eyes of the nations around us. It is clear, as we make our painful way from exile to exile, that the children of Ya'akov are barely able to stay alive.The angel of Esav periodically throws all his resources at finally putting us down for the count. And yet, although we limp, we can never be stopped. We can be slowed, but we constantly plod resolutely toward the finish line of history.

It is not physical strength or fortitude that sustains Man. Not by our own power do Ya'akov's People limp on by. It is rather by our adherence to the Torah that we continue to exist. When we succeed, it is not thanks to our own physical prowess, for we are cripple. Rather, it is testament to God's power and our fulfillment of His will. In weakness, we learn that it is our faith in God that sustains us.

This holiday is a commemoration of God's physical preservation and continued sustenance of the nation of Israel in the desert, and throughout history. We celebrate the fact that, (Deut. 8:15) "[God] led you through the terrible wilderness where were serpents and scorpions, and thirst for water; He brought forth water out of stone." Shmini Atzeres and Simchas Torah celebrate God's spiritual preservation of Israel throughout history.

Whereas Ya'akov teaches us the lesson of our reliance on God in times of weakness and poverty, Sukos and Shmini Atzeres teach this lesson in the opulence of holiday cheer and comfort. The kingdom of Israel under David and Solomon represented the height and peak of our nation's wealth and honor. Precisely this royalty is stamped with the qualifier, sukah. Even in our power, we recognize that it is not from this power that our sustenance stems, but from our relationship with God. When we internalize this lesson, our power and honor can be sustained for the future.

Precisely our ever-developing relationship with God provides us with protection and solace in times of weakness, and power and prestige in times of good fortune. This relationship remains healthy as long as we cultivate it, much as a horticulturist would tend to a treasured specimen of flower. The word for growth, tzome'ach, is related, in Rabbi Hirsch's grammatical system, to the word for happiness, same'ach. True happiness is participating in this ever-growing relationship with Hashem.

If we internalize this lesson of the holiday of sukos, the lesson of the sukah and of the Davidic dynasty, we will merit to celebrate sukos as a true holiday of gladness through spiritual growth, yom simchatenu.

To Bollinger

"It should never be thought that merely to listen to ideas we deplore in any way implies our endorsement of those ideas, or the weakness of our resolve to resist those ideas or our naiveté about the very dangers in such ideas." -- Lee Bollinger, President, Columbia University

Bollinger represents the dangerous tendency we have to be so open-minded that our brains fall out. We so passionately defend the despot's right to be heard, that we forget to destroy him when we can. We protect the free speech of tyrants more than we abhor the tyrant himself.

The opportunity to speak freely (which Ahmedinejad refuses to all dissenters in his country) is exactly what he desperately desires. Providing a platform to evil affords it legitimacy.

You do not argue with evil, you crush it.

Please Pray for Rabbi Shapira

HaRav Avraham Elkana HaKohen ben Henna Raizel, former chief Rabbi of Israel and present Rosh Yeshiva of Merkaz Harav has taken a turn for the worse. Please pray for this tzaddik and gaon.

Is Something Brewing?

YNet and CNN are reporting that the Israeli incursion into Syrian airspace last week was accompanied by supporting ground troops. It seems to have been aimed at Hizbollah armament, passing through from Iran.

May God protect Israel and the soldiers of the IDF, and grant them a year of clear, ethical orders, and the strength and moral will to destroy the enemies of the Jews.

May we usher in the redemption this year!

Shana Tova Um'tuka!

We pray for a happy and healthy new year for all of Am Yisrael. May we merit to see the fulfillment of the prophecies, and may we all bask in the light of the גאולה, now!

S'lichot: A Path to Reconstruction

I.

Day is the natural time of humanity’s activity and creativity. It is by day that we fulfill our role set out by God to Adam, to ‘settle the world and conquer it.’ (Gen. 1:28) In contrast, night is the time when Mankind retreats from his dominant stance and hides from real and imagined dangers. It is a time of אמונה, but also a time of humility, when the bravado and temerity of כחי ועוצם ידי vanishes into the dusk, and Man scurries back to his protector, God. This shift is evident in the prayers of each time of day. Morning-man states with confidence, אמת ויציב, while night-man hesitates, and assuages his confusion with אמת ואמונה.

In his essays, Rabbi S.R. Hirsch discusses the season of the Days of Awe. He writes about the industrious preparation that the animal and plant kingdoms begin in autumn. Nature itself, by design, is sensitive to the impending winter months, and begins to carefully prepare for them. Bears store energy in fat deposits, and begin months of hibernation. Squirrels hoard nuts and even insects make sure that they are ready for winter. The natural order is an ethical lesson to humanity. Do not allow life to deceive you, ‘that youth will last forever…that strength will never wane…at wealth is secure, that earthly greatness is eternal!’ This time of year turns our thoughts to assuring our spiritual sustenance, for the future. It is a season in which we are no longer able to revel in the abundance and decadence of summer; the plenty we have must be carefully preserved for the night-season of winter.

This is the season that begins our s'lichot tonight. Interesting indeed that this autumn season is one in which the nights are long, and days short. As Rabbi Hirsch points out, night leads to night, with day only a short reprieve. The season reinforces the message of dependence and humility of night-time. And it is in this double night that we congregate here, to officially begin our season of repentance and, ultimately, atonement.

Both night and autumn-winter lead us to shed any pretenses we may have developed. In our fear for our personal survival during the natural times of danger and scarcity, we are forced to recognize our stark dependence on God. We know better than ever that we need our relationship to God.

Throughout the year, in our active conquering of the world around us, it is almost inevitable that we veer from the path God has commanded us to travel. The word חטא itself means running afoul of one’s target, as an arrow that misses its mark. As nature turns us back to thoughts of God and our ultimate reliance on him, we contemplate our neglected relationship with Him. In these days, the lessons of un’taneh tokef guide us. Three things erase our sins and lead us to a sweet year: תשובה, תפילה, and צדקה. I would like to touch on these three concepts briefly, and discuss what I believe to be the central theme of the triad, the reconstruction of the broken relationship between a man and his God.

II.

In his Essay on prayer, R’ Soloveitchick describes a new approach to the concept of t'fillah. Prayer does not only make us better people, more deserving of favorable judgment. Neither is prayer simply Man's attempt to beseech God for his needs. It is a fundamental way that Mankind interacts with God, a medium through which we encounter the divine. T'fillah is not focused on God, but on Man. However, it is not only anthropocentric, because it is a dialogue between Man and God. By creating that emotional connection that prayer instantiates, Man brings himself into communion with God. By realizing that life in the absence of God is empty and cold, a person brings himself to prayer, in order to draw God back into his realm of existence, so to speak. We are commanded to find God through prayer. Thus, the very act of prayer is a form of interaction and דביקות with the Divine. When we pray, we develop a connection to God. Much as each interaction between a husband and wife pave the strength and depth of connection in their marriage, so does prayer lay a foundation of familiarity and intimacy.

Prayer, then, not only provides a venue for us to petition God for help with the minutiae of life. It also provides us with a life-line to God, Who acts as a shoulder to cry on. As Rabbi Aaron Lichtenstein writes (Jewish Perspectives on the Experience of Suffering, Ch. 2), we can always turn to God at a time of crisis, and He comforts us even when he does not immediately alleviate the suffering. T'fillah reconstructs this important aspect of the divine relationship.

III.

The recreation of our shattered relationship to Hashem as a beloved supporter is also the fundamental aim of t'shuvah.

There are two concepts used in Jewish thought for atonement. The first is כפרה, the absolution of sin. This is the cut and dry idea of penance: the correction of our propensity to break God’s word. It is affected by sacrifice and rite.

However, there is another concept, developed most clearly by the prophets, that of תשובה. This is the rectification of our damaged emotional relationship to Hashem. This requires service of the heart and mind, and a change in attitude. We realize the beauty of closeness to God – קרבת אלקים לי טוב, and mourn the actions that have placed an iron curtain between us and our Father in Heaven.

In Chagiga (15a), we read the tragedy of Elisha ben Avuyah, apostate par excellence. Goaded by R’ Meir, his faithful student, to repent, he stated, ‘I have already heard a בת קול that everyone may do teshuvah, but I am barred.’ We can imagine the sort of sins he must have done, and incited others to do, in order to be barred from repentance by heavenly decree. Even so, says the Maharsha, Elisha should have repented, for nothing can stand in the way of תשובה, even a בת קול.

I believe Elisha’s mistake was that he saw t'shuvah simply as a means of attaining atonement. He missed out on the relationship with God that t'shuvah aims to rectify. This is an emotional bond, like one between a man and wife. Imagine a situation where your wife tells you, ‘do not even ask for forgiveness, I cannot forgive you.’ The emotional bond and intimacy of the relationship does not allow you to accept this. You beg, even demand forgiveness, and it is granted in the end. This is the relationship that Elisha should have been trying to attain through t'shuvah . He did not possess it, and so he missed the fundamental lesson, and the opportunity for forgivness.

Another explicit example, the story of Elazar ben Dordia (Avodah Zara 17a) stands out in contrast, as one who learned the value of this relationship. A man who visited every harlot he could, Elazar was once confronted by a woman who told him that he would never reach עולם הבא because of his many sins. He sat and cried, begging the mountains, valleys and all of nature to intercede on his behalf. Nature refused to help him. In the analogous situation, Elisha ben Avuyah gave up on his atonement. Not so Elazar ben Dordia. אין הדבר תלוי אלא בי, he cried, taking his repentance into his own hands. As he died from the intensity of his emotion, a בת קול proclaimed that he had been accepted. His refusal to live without reconnecting his relationship to God was so strong, it overcame the seemingly impossible. (Paradoxically, it is a heavenly voice that proclaims him worthy, the same medium which claimed that Elisha would find no forgiveness.)

In הררי קדם, R’ Soloveitchik speaks of the tremendous power of repentance out of love. Since it comes from an internal need to rectify a shattered relationship with God, it has the power to transcend ordinary rules of t'shuvah such as the levels of penance and categories of sin. It is able to affect immediate and unconditional purity in the pennant one. When we utilize this internal connection to God and repent from love, we are able to reach the t'shuvah that can defeat even a heavenly decree against it.

When a woman sins against her husband, his natural love for her causes him to wish to take her back. Indeed, this analogy is not lost on the prophets. Thus, Hoshea is told to take a harlot as a wife. When she is unfaithful, God tells him to leave her and their children. When Hoshea hesitates, God remarks on his natural desire to remain with her. He says, ‘how can you tell me to abandon the Jews because of their sin, when you are unwilling to abandon your wife?’ The love and intimacy between man and wife, reflected in the bond between God and Israel, is able to transcend the chasm created by the most vile offence. אין דבר עומד בפני התשובה.

IV.

Lastly, we turn to צדקה. If תשובה and תפילה are so powerful, why do we need this third part?

The singularity of the communal Yom Kippur offerings is that they atone for Israel’s sins even without any effort on the part of the nation. The communal offerings create a national forgiveness that trickles down to the individual Jew.

In order to be forgiven on our national level, we must demonstrate to Hashem that we are unified. We love each other, and care for one another. This bond is demonstrated most powerfully by the giving of charity and kindness to the less fortunate. By demonstrating our national bond and showing love and respect to God’s people, we show our desire to be treated as part of the עם סגולה, with all the rights and privileges that brings. Thus, the final element of national teshuvah is completed by חסד and צדקה to one another.

Gerard Manley Hopkins writes of the estrangement sin engenders, and the subsequent intimacy reignited by repentance. And what action does Hashem demand of us, so that our penance may be accepted? 'But thou bidst, and just thou art/Me shew mercy from my heart/Towards my brother, every other/Man my mate and counterpart.' Demonstrating mercy and love to our fellow man is our way of deserving the same treatment from Heaven.

V.

Through the season and time of day, may we be moved to realize our close connection to God. The סליחות we are about to say will melt our hearts and help us return to God with love. Let us read the english translation, and be moved by the traditional tunes that accompany out thoughts of return and love for God. May this awesome time leave its impression on our future.

May our application of prayer, repentance and kindness lead us to a wonderful, sweet, safe and spiritually uplifting new year.

Nitzavim and Faith

In this week's portion, God warns us to keep His commandments. If we do not, we will be sent into exile, and 'we will be singled out for suffering' (Deut 29:20). The nations will stand in wonder at the torture and destruction of God's beloved nation, and they will say, 'it must be punishment for turning away from God's covenant' (29:24). And yet, no matter how far we fall, God will redeem us. 'God will return with our exiles, and have mercy; He will gather us from the lands of our dispersion', into Israel (29:3-5). God promises us this.

In Amos (9:13-15), we are again promised the vision of salvation, this time even more clearly and in far more detail:

"יג הִנֵּה יָמִים בָּאִים, נְאֻם-יְהוָה, וְנִגַּשׁ חוֹרֵשׁ בַּקֹּצֵר, וְדֹרֵךְ עֲנָבִים בְּמֹשֵׁךְ הַזָּרַע; וְהִטִּיפוּ הֶהָרִים עָסִיס, וְכָל-הַגְּבָעוֹת תִּתְמוֹגַגְנָה. יד וְשַׁבְתִּי, אֶת-שְׁבוּת עַמִּי יִשְׂרָאֵל, וּבָנוּ עָרִים נְשַׁמּוֹת וְיָשָׁבוּ, וְנָטְעוּ כְרָמִים וְשָׁתוּ אֶת-יֵינָם; וְעָשׂוּ גַנּוֹת, וְאָכְלוּ אֶת-פְּרִיהֶם. טו וּנְטַעְתִּים, עַל-אַדְמָתָם; וְלֹא יִנָּתְשׁוּ עוֹד, מֵעַל אַדְמָתָם אֲשֶׁר נָתַתִּי לָהֶם--אָמַר, יְהוָה אֱלֹהֶיךָ."

"'When the plowman shall overtake the reaper, and the treader of grapes him who sows seed; the mountains shall drip with sweet wine, and all the hills shall flow with it. I will bring back the captives of My people Israel; they shall build the waste cities and inhabit them; they shall plant vineyards and drink wine from them; they shall also make gardens and eat fruit from them. I will plant them in their land, and no longer shall they be pulled up from the land I have given them,' says the Lord your God."

I think these quotes are especially important to read and allow to permeate our souls in our present day, when so much of our tradition is under attack by skeptical elements. In the past millennia, Jews and gentiles have accepted prima facie the authenticity of the Torah and other books of the Bible. Even without the fulfillment of the positive prophecies of reconstruction, they have survived with their faith in God and His word. They lived and died for a day when their children and grandchildren would be able to witness the fulfillment of God's promises. They needed no proof.

However, around the turn of the last century, scholars and skeptics have begun to question, not only the dating of certain works, or the exact authorship of certain parts of some books, but the very concept of God's revelation of His will and future plans to Mankind. Whole sections of Jews may not believe in the divinity of our scripture, or even in the existence of God! Humanity has become cynical, and so, have chosen to question God's revelation.

However, we must pay attention to the historical currents that surrounded this movement. The return of Jews to Zion with the intent of rebuilding the land and Jewish culture gained steam. Eventually, European Jewry was destroyed, and out of the fire, like a phoenix, the modern state of Israel rose. The remnants beat back blood-thirsty hordes of Arab soldiers, intent on destroying them. This happened, not once, but five times. Jews returned and continue to stream to their land, and even the anti-Zionists admit that, if not ראשית צמיחת גאולתינו, we are living through, at least, עיקבתא דמשיחא.

This is God's most poetic answer to the skeptics. God counters their questions by making the living word of His books come true! Hashem always keeps us open to faith. Sometimes we are sustained by faith in the word, as the generations before us. However, if we begin to question its authenticity, he makes it come true, so we can no longer doubt it.

In Nitzavim and Amos, God promised us redemption, and placed his name on it as a seal of truth. It happens now as we watch! And yet, we are blinded by its shining light, even as we live through it. Future generations will ask us, did you not see the obvious fulfillment of God's word?

I realized, while speaking to a skeptical friend, that what we are witnessing with our own eyes is the irrefutable realization of the prophecies of God. These verses are our generation's personal Har Sinai experience; this is our revelation! We ourselves bear witness to the fact that God exists, and that He keeps his promises to Israel.

God's hand forces history, and history, against all odds and against all precedent, favors Israel (by all accounts a dead nationalism) and the nation of Israel rises again in the land of Israel, just as the Torah and prophets foresaw.

May this coming year be one in which all prophecies come true, and the floodgates of knowledge, light, and peace open wide. May the world bask in the glow of our redemption, and may mountains and valleys ring with the song of global salvation.

New Additions to the Blog

We now have, on the side-bar, an atomic clock with Sabbath times below it.

I hope this helps people!

Faith and Conflict

Rabbi JJ Weinberg wrote that the truly orthodox person is a person who is conflicted, and struggles with questions and doubts constantly. He never lets things stagnate, and is always challanging the limits of his doctrine. He is the most dynamic thinker alive.

How do you see this in your own life (whether or not you consider yourself truly orthodox by this description)?

Daniel's Dragon

In Sh'vuot (29b) and Nedarim (25a), the Talmud records an interesting tale of a gigantic snake. The snake fed on human beings, and the people had no way to kill it. It was simply too vicious for anyone to slay. A savior came and prepared 13 piles of grain, with animals tied up inside, as well as smoldering coals. When the snake devoured the piles of straw, the coals burned it from the inside, and split the serpent open, dead.

Rabbi Epstein (in the Soncino translation of the masechta) mentions that this tale bears similarities to the dragon of Daniel. The book of Daniel has three apocryphal chapters that are outside the Hebrew canon. However, they are found in the Septuagint, and here are the relevant verses (from here):

23 And in that same place there was a great dragon, which they of Babylon worshipped. 24 And the king said unto Daniel, Wilt thou also say that this is of brass? lo, he liveth, he eateth and drinketh; thou canst not say that he is no living god: therefore worship him. 25 Then said Daniel unto the king, I will worship the Lord my God: for he is the living God. 26 But give me leave, O king, and I shall slay this dragon without sword or staff. The king said, I give thee leave. 27 Then Daniel took pitch, and fat, and hair, and did seethe them together, and made lumps thereof: this he put in the dragon's mouth, and so the dragon burst in sunder : and Daniel said, Lo, these are the gods ye worship.

Especially since left out of the biblical canon, it is interesting to see apocryphal stories seemingly remembered in the pages of the Talmud. These books were banned (according to some) as 'outside books' by the mishnah in Sanhedrin (10:1), ostensibly to protect faithful Jews from joining early Christains or other splinter groups, who used the apocrypha as proof of continued prophecy, or simply as holy books (See Rabbi Dr. S Leiman's thesis). However, the Rabbis did not mean to deny that any good can be learned from the apocrypha. Indeed, in Sanhedrin (100b), Rabbi Yossi states about the book of Ben Sira that, "The good in it we expound".

Interestingly, Rabbi Slifkin reminds us that the mishnah uses the term 'drakon' when referencing a specific image of idolatry that is designated for destruction. Perhaps the story of Daniel's dragon is an allegory that it is not enough to destroy the idols from outside, but we must go inside ourselves to root out any dangerous concepts of idolatry from within our own hearts. We must turn the spotlight on ourselves with as much scrutiny, if not more, than we use when examining others for faults.

Stray Thought on Ethics

An interesting thought popped into my head this morning. In the past, we have discussed the tension that may exist between the natural ethic and the divine imperative that commands our obedience. We have also dealt with character attributes and how they need to be utilized.

Perhaps the natural ethic is really simply a character attribute. In other words, each individual has, to some varying degree, been imbued by God with some amount of sensitivity to that natural morality that is the pulse of the universe. However, as philosophers will be quick to point out, since each human is allocated a different level of sensitivity, the morality that makes up this world seems varied and unclear. Some people feel that eating meat is immoral, while others are not fazed by their conscience when participating in the mass murder of humanity. Since this internal moral compass is so varied, the ethics of revelation are brought to light, guiding our use of our moral and ethical attributes: compassion, hatred, vengeance and forgiveness.

Only an objective ethic can claim authority over the vastly different consciences that exist in each of us. If it tells us to suspend our need for vengeance, or our feeling of duty to have compassion, we do so.

When discussing middoth, Rabbi Kook explains that the 'good' character traits, such as love, compassion, patience and kindness, must become part of our very being. True, there are certain times we need to supress them. However, the suppression of these midoth should be against our natural tendencies. We should feel uncomfortable the whole time we suppress them. In contrast, the 'bad' midoth should never become part of our natural state of being. Rather, they should remain in our toolbox of traits, to be dusted off and used only when absolutely necessary. All the while we utilize them, we should feel a foreign attribute in our actions.

The same should hold true for our ethical traits.

(27 Kislev, 5769: Revisiting this issue, my chevrusa and I discussed the ethical in light of the Torah. Our discussion concluded that perhaps an individual halacha, such as Amalek could not be used in isolation to teach the ethics of the Torah, for it is a product not of a purely ethical form or category, but a result of various competing ethics and considerations. For example, the act of torture may be morally reprehensible. However, when used to urge a terrorist to reveal the location of a ticking time bomb, the overall ethical thing to do is to use torture. Some actions should define us (being kind, being peaceful), and are inherently ethical, while other actions, though sometimes employed, do not define our ethic, and only receive the nod of approval because of surrounding considerations. Thus, while an individual halacha may not define morality, the totality of halachot and hashkafa do, and provide a framework and set of rules to, with all the complexities of life, choose the best possible course of action when none may always be perfect. אשת יפת תואר and עמלק are thus not necessarily so different. They are both the best course of action for imperfect situations.)

Vote Feiglin

He is yet another chance Am Yisrael has to get it right.

Marriage and Creativity

In Sotah(17a), Rabbi Akiva teaches that if a man and woman are virtuous, the divine presence will abide with them. If not, fire will consume their relationship. Rashi explains that the man (איש) and woman (אשה), each bring part of God's name into the marriage. If they cultivate that Godliness, the י and ה permeate their union. If not, the only thing that remains is אש (fire).

What is so special about the relationship between a man and woman that warrants such strong extremes?

In Yadayim (3:5), Rabbi Akiva defends the canonization of Shir HaShirim. He states that, all the other books are holy, but the Song of Solomon is קדש קדשים, the holiest of holies. Rabbi Kook, among others, explains why. It is quite easy to see the holiness in books like Iyov or Yirmiyahu. Books that openly teach us to focus on the spiritual and find Godly meaning in our lives are obviously holy. However, the true task that humans are charged with in this world is not to eschew the profane. We are not to neglect the world in which we live. Rather, we are to utilize it in our worship of God. Even the source of the most lowly impurity can be used for service of the divine.

Shir HaShirim is written in allegory. On the surface, it is a representation of the activity and thoughts which, while important in this world, do not lend themselves to spiritual pursuit. It is only when this book is studied with an eye towards depth and creative allegory that it becomes a parable to the relationship between God and Man. Indeed, the book itself is an example of the highest form of serving God, by transforming the mundane through holiness. Thus, beauty, poetry, and love are tools for encountering the divine.

God placed us in a physical world with concrete realities. We are not to rebel against them, and try to shake them off. On the contrary, קדש קדשים is reached by using these forces for holiness, and uplifting them. This is the special place of Shir HaShirim. In an Aristotelian moment pointed out in Marc Shapiro’s Between the Yeshiva World and Modern Orthodoxy, both Rav Kook and Rabbi Weinberg (author of the S’ridei Eish) view the relationship between secular and holy as one of form and matter. The form is the abstract concept, while the matter is that which is acted upon and molded to reflect the form in concrete reality. For example, a plaster cast of a tooth cannot replace the tooth. It does, however, reflect the form of the tooth perfectly. Therefore, when one takes enamel (the matter) and fills the cast with it, the enamel realizes the form, and a reflection of the abstract is now realized. Thus it is with Torah and our world. The Torah is the abstract concept. Every object, being, thought and emotion is part of the matter that makes up our world. We use the Torah’s form to mold the diverse mundanities of our world into a holy reflection of the ideals of Torah. This is how we sanctify the profane.

This was, according to Rabbi Hirsch, the symbolism of the burning bush that introduced Moshe to Hashem. The סנה is the lowliest bush, a representation of physicality with no redeeming spiritual characteristics. However, when used to further God's plans in this world, it became united with the fire of God in order to deliver a message to Moshe. It was not consumed, to teach that even the lowest creature can earn immortality by heeding the call to advance God's purpose in creation.

Humanity is special amongst creations in that we are fashioned in God's image. Rabbi Soloveitchik describes this as the ability to create, change and mold the world we live in. When a man and woman marry, they take part in this creative activity. The Talmud (Kiddushin 30b) states that a man and a woman actually partner with God when they bear a child. However, if they do not utilize the world as a receptacle for spirituality, they are left only with fire. This is the consuming fire of God's anger, as it were, אש אכלה. It destroys that which is not used for its true calling.

But when a couple infuses their relationship and life with Godliness, they take part in the creation process with God. They permeate their world and the world around them with holiness, elevating the mundane to holy. In this capacity, they are proper bearers of the shechina. They bring the letters of God's name together, create completeness, and acquire immortality, like the סנה.

Re'eh: Working Ideals into Reality

(For a discussion of free will, the subject of the first verse in this week's portion, see here.)

When learning the laws of the seven year cycle in Jewish agricultural law, we may be surprised to find that the seventh year also had implications for lenders. In the seventh year, any outstanding debts between Jews were cancelled by the Torah (D'varim 15:2). As one can imagine, this would have had an effect on the willingness of the wealthy to lend out their money. And so, five verses later, the Torah warns would-be lenders not to stop lending just because the seventh year nears.

However, generations later, the rabbis were met with precisely this problem. People would not lend their money, for fear of losing it once the sh'mitta year comes along. By this time (see Gitin 36a,b) the concept of sh'mitta was in force only rabbinically (see there for a discussion of the issue), and the rabbinic law of sh'mittat k'safim was causing people abstain from lending money to others, which is a biblical offense. And so, Hillel instituted prosbol, a loophole through which the courts take possession of loan documents, and authorize lenders to collect on them. Since the courts were not subject to the laws of debt cancellation, the repayment of loans was not automatically forgiven by the seventh year.

This concept raises a number of philosophical points. What is the rationale of the cancellation of debts? Of course, not knowing ratio dei will not stop us from fulfilling the law. However, it is still of great value to understand, to the extent that we can, why God rquires this of us. Also, if God requires it, what right did a rabbi have to find a loophole in it? I would like to comment on the second question now, and leave the first for further study and contemplation.

The rabbis are entrusted with the interpretation and implementation of the divine commands, as we will read next week (D'varim 17:11). It is their job to take the written and oral aspects of the Torah that were received on Sinai, and realize them in day to day practice. Thus, the rabbinic commands and protective enactments gain a certain divine authority (Rambam Hil. Mamrim 1:1).

The divine Law, however, was not written for the actual moral and ethical level of the Jewish nation at the time it was given. It was written as an abstract ideal. The nation is to look to that ideal and work to bring their actual position closer to that ideal each day. It is a moral staff for Jews (and indeed Gentiles) to cling to as they climb to the heights of moral and spiritual piety. Torah does not reflect reality; rather, the task of good people everywhere is to make reality reflect the ideals of Torah.

(This is the true concept of tikun olam, the awesome work of perfecting the world, little by little. I believe it was the Maharal who wrote that the world was created purposely flawed, so that humans would have a hand in its perfection. Rabbi Soloveitchik speaks of this when he says that one of the charges of Man is to be creative, and take part in the perfection of the world around him, and thus, partner with God in creation (מעשה בראשית).)

This is hinted at in many commands of the Torah. For example, in the ten commandments, the order not to murder is לא תרצח. The word לא is used, as opposed to אל. The first is a simple negation, while the second is an exhortation to not do something. At first glance, we might expect the Torah to use אל, which would essentially command us 'Do not murder!' However, it uses לא, which really translates to 'You will not murder.' This is simply a statement of fact. It is this idealized fact that we in our mundane world must strive to make a reality. (I thank אבי מורי for pointing this out to me.)

In fact, this is one of the lines of reasoning that Rabbi Hirsch uses to show the divine origins of the Torah. No group of men, he reasons, would write into laws ideas that would not be feasible for those governed in their present moral and spiritual state. Only God would write laws that the Jewish nation would have to work to grow into.

And so, Hillel had to find a loophole* to hold the nation together until the time that they become spiritually and ethically ready to realize the abstract ideals of D'varim 15:9. As Rabbi Natan stated (Brachot 9:5), when the laws of God are in danger of being trampled, desperate measures must be taken to uphold them, even the seeming abrogation of those laws. Prosbol is not an ideal, but a practical demonstration that the Nation of Israel still has much room to grow, and much work to do in order to bring the kingdom of Heaven down to earth.

May we, in these wondrous beginnings of redemption, look to the Torah and realize our destiny, in the minute laws of the individual, and also in the overall thrust of our national re-awakening.

---------
*It should be noted, of course, that Hillel used a loophole, and did not legislate away the law in question. This must be contrasted to other uses of purported rabbinic takanot, such as the legalization of the breaking of the biblical laws of the Sabbath by the conservative, in order to keep Jews coming to synagogue (which, at best, is a rabbinic concept).

Brutality Again

See here. And the two posts below it. Barbarians.

Theodicy

The ninth of Av always brings my mind to the problem of evil. How can God countenance evil? More importantly, how can evil even exist? God is, after all, the supreme good; how can anything but good emanate from Him?

This question has plagued philosophers throughout the ages. It has led many to deny God's absolute goodness, and even to question His existence. Let us begin a cursory review of some Jewish responses to the problem of evil*. This is a work in progress, and any suggestions or corrections are welcome.

The Ra'avad (R Avraham Ibn David) writes in Emunah Ramah that evil comes from matter. The spiritual abstraction that spawned the world (God and the spark of truth that is the Torah) is perfectly good. However, when they become realized in creation, in physical matter, they immediately lose aspects of their goodness. In the transition to physical creation, elements of good are lost, and to the extent that something is physical, it contains evil. Evil is essentially the shadow of the material upon the landscape that was illuminated by God. Thus, when God created matter, he, in effect created evil. However, this evil is more negative existence than actual creation. Ra'avad ends by saying that, taken in context of the universe, evil is really good, only disguised.

This last point is interestingly echoed in the poetic writings of Augustine. He states that we consider some things evil because 'they are at variance with other things.' Ultimately, God should be praised for everything, even things we perceive to be bad, because they all contribute to a harmonious whole. This view does away with the work of theodicy by denying the essential existence of evil. This is hard to take, especially in light of my previous post. While it may be true, it fundamentally takes away our right to examine the world we live in critically.

The Kuzari also does this. He reminds us that all God does is good, and wryly points out that human ability to understand the workings of the world are surely at the bottom of the scale of goodness in this world. Evil and good are rewarded and punished most truly in the realm of the spirit world, that waiting room to the world to come. Thus, we are enjoined to complete our work in this world, and allow the problem of evil to be solved by He who allowed it to (seem to) exist.

Rambam agrees that evil is rooted in matter. The human soul is completely good. Evil is a function of the marriage of matter and spirit. However, the closer Mankind gets to wisdom and study, and the further Humanity moves from passion and emotion, the less will matter hold sway, and the less will this accidental evil presist.

Kabbalistic writings agree with the Kuzarian premise that all activity is ultimately good. Evil is punishment for evil in deed and thought. The concept of the Gilgul, or reincarnation is introduced to solve the problems stemming from the suffering of obvious innocents, such as children. Souls are cast into new lives that receive punishment for past lives' offenses.

The view I find most satisfying (perhaps because I thought of it before researching the subject) is R Sa'adia's. He states (Emunoth V'deoth 2) that evil is simply a product of Man not fulfilling God's will. When humans go against the divine right or do not fulfill it completely, they by negation commit evil. Of course, these results of human activity may be to punish or teach, but they are products of our actions. God has given Man the free will to go against His rule, but ultimately, He is in control of the world's destiny, and evil will be punished. The suffering of the good will also not be in vain.

This may be best left for another post, but I find it particularly interesting to consider the talmudic dictum, 'he who is merciful to the wicked will end up wicked to the merciful'. It is precisely when we veer from divine morality, and attempt to be more moral than God towards enemies of His Kingdom, that we sow the seeds of evil towards those who cling to His ways. It is not always clear how, but the ripple effect is always there. And so, that profoundly Jewish essence of mercy, when mis-applied, will lead to the most perverted and warped injustice against those who demonstrate that very trait of loving-kindness.

* I found an article at JewishEncyclopedia.com helpful in sourcing some of the following ideas. Also, Rabbi Carmy has a book relating to suffering that I hope will shed more light on this topic.

Children of our Past

The ninth of Av. Soaked with the tears of countless who still mourn the destruction of 2,000 years. Please, God, please, let it be enough. End this bitter exile, and redeem us! And the echo that brings our cry back to our own ears seems to say, 'work with me to end it, and to redeem you...' (UPDATE: See the Muqata for another extremely apropos pictoral post.)

Nothing connects me to the pain and sorrow of our history more deeply than the children. Who does not see their own little boy or girl in the pain of a starving child's eyes? Stronger than any קינה, more powerful than six million names, here are the faces that haunt me day and night...

Religious Renaissance

Rabbi Adlerstein has a post on a disturbing subject at Cross-Currents. He makes some good points, and I do not mean to negate any of the constructive criticism in the post. However, I think an important possibility is being overlooked.

The question is, why is it that seemingly well-adjusted citizens of Israel are moving to Messianic Judaism for their religious experience? While the question was raised in the scope of Israel and Messianic Judaism, the issue is just as valid when asked about youth in any Jewish community who replace the religious experience of traditional Judaism with any alternative. It is my contention that the answer lies in the culture of replacement that we have absorbed from the world around us.

We live in a world-culture whose mantra is, ‘if it’s not perfect, trade it in!’ Every day, people opt to upgrade their cell phones, computers and cars, instead of having their present ones fixed. It is easier, and the thrill of novelty is an opiate to the drudgery that is so much of life.

The same holds true for many aspects of our lives. The current culture is that if a marriage becomes challenging, divorce is the answer. If one's career seems to grow boring, career change is immediately suggested. People pick up and drop hobbies and leisure activities in the blink of an eye. Sadly, this replacement culture has invaded the study halls, as well. Many people feel the need to constantly be presented with novel, interesting subjects in university or the beit midrash. Sadly, even religious experience, no matter how inspiring, can become routine, and that spark we first felt when serving God may be dampened.

The fact is that habit can be a bore. No matter how exhilarating, the doing the same thing every day can become dull, and people will begin to look for new inspiration. And so, we must ask: how are we meant to deal with flagging interest in these areas of life that are so important? Mature people who are confident in their faith will look inward for this renaissance, but many modern people will immediately look outward to find religious renewal.

It is unfair to place the blame for the lack of this external renewal on the practitioners of Jewish Orthodoxy. Even in boredom, it is our job to recognize the inherent value in what we are doing, and re-ignite our passion through it. We can’t just trade it in, when it is an important part of our lives.

This level of responsibility and maturity must be a part of our educational plans for our youth. We must periodically bring up new aspects of the service of Hashem. There are plenty. A good discussion on the power of prayer can be enough to uplift a flagging spirit. Excitement about the poetry and depth of Tanach is another way to boost interest. Educators must make an effort to show their charges the many aspects of Torah, and teach them that they can find renewed inspiration through their age-old traditions, instead of looking for it in other faiths.

Our House in Israel III

Well, the building is almost done. We should have the kitchen and granite in by next Friday. Here are some interim pictures:

Above, you can see the front entrance, which is actually on the right side of the house. The overhang is not finished yet.

Here, you can see the entrance area. There is a double-ceiling, which allows people on the second floor to look down from the balcony. The wood has not yet been put up on the bannister top.

This is a picture inside our kitchen, before the cabinets are put in. The electrical and water sleeves will be inside lower cabinets. After the cabinets and granite are installed, the walls will be finished.

With God's help, the house should be done by the first week in July. I will try to post pictures when it is completed. Good Shabbos!