(ויתרוצצו הבנים בקרבה... (כה: כב
(ויאמר ה' לה שני גיים בבטנך ושני לאמים ממעיך יפרדו ולאם מלאם יאמץ ורב יעבד צעיר (כה: כג
In this week's Parsha, Rivka is pregnant with twins, Esav and Ya'akov. Rashi comments on the word ויתרוצצו in the first Pasuk above, explaining that whenever Rivka would pass places of Torah study Ya'akov would push and attempt to get out, and conversely, when she would pass a place of Avodah Zarah, Esav's incessant kicking would be felt, such were his urges.
Another famous Rashi later on examines Esav's name, and explains that the root of his name, עשה indicates something that has been "done." It could be said that Esav, born with the hair of a much older child, was "ready-made."
Ya'akov and Esav were twins, and though we are keen to draw the differences between the two, they definitely had their similarities. What is oft-ignored is that Ya'akov was also rather wholesome himself. Interestingly further on it says of Ya'akov, "ויגדלו הנערים... ויעקב איש תם יושב אהלים - And the lads grew up... and Ya'akov was a pure man, a dweller of tents." The moniker תם can mean pure, as it is often translated, or alternatively it can mean perfect. His dwelling in tents is a reference to his way of spending his time learning Torah.
It is fascinating to note that the word for twins is "תומים." As mentioned above, the word used to describe Ya'akov is תמים, and I speculate that the two words are linked, especially as we are told in the second Pasuk that I listed above, "And Hashem said to her (Rivka) there are two nations in your stomach, and from your insides two regimes shall be separated, and one regime shall become strong from the other, and the older will serve the younger." The fate of the two boys are inexplicably linked, and it would seem that so too are their characters.
I received a message last night from a friend who writes a weekly D'var Torah, (search for "Inspiring Weekly Parsha on facebook,) and in it she wrote of how Eisav had the potential to be the leader of Am Yisrael. She wrote how some "commentators have said that Yitzchak wanted Eisav to become the leader of the Jewish people, which is why he wanted to bless him and not Ya'akov. Eisav was a man of action, who would go out into the world and spread the message of Judaism and bring people closer to God. Yaakov sat in his tent all day and was not ideal to spread this message, according to Yitzchak." But because he could not do this, Ya'akov had to take his place.
If we look closely at the wording, we can see that the Pasuk uses the unusual word "ויתרוצצו," which Rashi renders as meaning either running or as crushing. Notable by it's absence is the expected translation/explanation of the word; that the two brothers are fighting one another - for they are not! The two nations may be opposed to one another, but they are not essentially enemies. Rather, Esav's tafkid, (like that of every creation in the world,) is that to be an agent and aid the Jewish nation when we are not doing our job properly. Similarly, it is instructive to note that while we are commanded to destroy our arch-foes, Amalek, there is no imperative related to our having to hate them.
I find this very relevant to today's generation. When I hear people see slogans such as "death to Arabs" spray-painted or chanted by Jews in Israel, I get the horrible feeling that we are missing the point. I am saddened because this battle is not against Eisav or indeed the Palestinians, it is against ourselves and the Yetzer Hara. If we can take care of ourselves, then will have no need to fight our enemies. Previously the Romans, the Greeks, the Persians, and the Christian Crusaders have tried to exterminate the Jewish nation, I wouldn't worry too much about Al Qaeda, Hamas and Iran. If history has taught us one thing, it is that there is nothing in this world that the Jewish nation should fear, and that the best path for us is one of Torah observance. It is because we have not clung to Hashem's Torah that we suffered so from the swords of all these enemies, not because they were so perilous in of themselves. Hashem has let us try integrating, and we suffered a Holocaust.
But if we try too hard to separate ourselves from our neighbours, we are missing the point, too. Yes, we must take care of our security, yes we must protect our Jewish identity, but it is also essential to recognise the cause of our problems, and they are not the Arabs. Living in the Old City, I frequently visit the Kotel and from time to time I hear people caught up in a moment of angst, shouting anti-Arab slogans. I completely empathise with their torment, their very real anguish, but simultaneously wonder why they don't yell "Stop Sinat Chinam now!" or "No more Lashon Hara!" Invariably, the emotion is real and the intent is actually not of hatred toward Arabs, but their words betray the fact that these people are all too often misguided. Suicide bombs and rocket strikes from Gaza are not the cause of our pain, they are ultimately the effect our own sins are having on us. It is not the Arabs' fault that we are still in exile, that we are still in pain; it is our fault and it is up to us to correct our own wrongs.
Wishing you a Shabbat Shalom!
In memory of Rabbi Gavriel and Rivka Holtzberg of Bet Chabad Mumbai, Aleihem HaShalom.
Friday, November 28, 2008
Friday, November 21, 2008
Parshat Chayei Sarah - פרשת חיי שרה
This week's Parsha starts by detailing the passing of Sarah, Avraham's wife and Yitzchak's mother. Note that I said Sarah was Yitzchak's mother. This is something obvious, yet it is often overlooked that only Avraham's name is mentioned in connection with Sarah's death - Yitzchak is noteable by his absence. How could it be that Yitzchak is not mentioned in this episode? After all Sarah was his mother!
This question is asked by Rabbenu Bavhya, who notes that the love for his father should have at least equalled that for his father. Where was his eulogy? Where were his tears? Rabbenu Bachya explains that Yitzchak had just come through another traumatic episode, the Akeidah, where he came within seconds of death, only Hashem's last gasp intervention saved his life. Rabbenu Bachya offers the explanation that due to his fragile psycological condition, Yitzchak was not told of his mother's death. Rabbenu Bachya then points out a blatant textual oddity: Not only is Yitzchak missing from Sarah's funeral, his disappearance begins at an earlier juncture, in the aftermath of the Akeida. What is happening?
When Avraham sets out for the mountain he takes Yitzchak and two others, referred to as "נערים," young men. The text tells us that they walked together:
"And Avraham rose early in the morning, and saddled his donkey, and took two of his young men with him, and Yitzchak his son, and he took the wood for the olah, and rose and went to the place of which God had spoken to him."
On the way up the hill to the Akeidah, father and son walk together. After the episode is over however, the Torah only mentions Avraham returning to the young men:
"And Avraham returned to his young men, and they rose and went together to Beer-Sheva; and Avraham dwelled in Beer-Sheva" (Bereishit 22:19)
What happened to Yitzchak? It seems impossible that Avraham could have simply picked up and left without the son who was just saved by God Himself. He would not simply have forgotten him up on the mountain while he returned home with the young men. Again, what is happening?
There are two basic approaches found in the Midrashim to Yitzchak's whereabouts during the textual "blackout." The first approach is that Yitzchak is busy learning in Yeshiva. A second approach, found in other Midrashim, describes Yitzchak as having died or almost died, or died in a metaphorical sense, depending on nuance. Yitzchak has temporarily retired to the Garden of Eden.
Even though Yitzchak did not die it is deemed as if he died, and his ashes are on the altar... Where was Yitzchak? God took him to the Garden of Eden where he remained for 3 years. (Midrash Hagadol)
Many Midrashim see Yitzchak as having died, and Jewish liturgy abounds with references to the Akeida as if it had actually been performed to completion. Most likely, what we are meant to gain from this line of Midrashic discussion is this: Avraham's willingness to sacrifice what he loved most for God should be perceived on at least some level as if the offering was brought. On the other hand, Yitzchak ends up in Gan Eden. We might interpret this as referring to a place of spiritual perfection. It could be argued that both "paradise" and "yeshiva" may be seen as places where someone who has just been raised up on the altar as an olah, someone with a heightened sense of spirituality, might go to pursue the religious experience further.
Later on, Ya'akov dressed as Esav, enters his father's room, and Yitzchak takes a moment to enjoy the aroma of the meal served to him, of the goats his son has brought him. Rashi questions this particular pleasure, noting that few odours are as unsavoury as the stench of goats. What did Yitzchak smell? Rashi's answer is surprising: It is the bouquet of Gan Eden, the aroma of paradise. That was a smell familiar to Yitzchak: he once lived there. Yitzchak paused to recall this scent, to retrieve this sensory memory.
The Torah tells us that at this point Yitzchak was blind. Rashi16 explains that this was due to the tears of the angels who cried during the Akeida. Two of Yitzchak's senses, then, were affected by the same singular experience - the Akeida. In other words, after being raised up on the altar, Yitzchak's sight is forever altered. But what is the nature of Yitzchak's perception, and what is the extent of his vision? Is he somehow damaged? Is he naive regarding his son's shortcomings, seeing less than we do - or does he perhaps see much more?
Yitzchak clearly sees differently: He sees through the prism of his Akeida experience, an experience that took him directly to Gan Eden. Eden is a place deep in the past of our collective conscience. It is also a place in the future. Gan Eden represents a perfect world, it represents our world perfected, This is how Yitzchak saw, not through the jaundiced eye that most people use as a spectrum, which diffuses the good and focuses on the bad. Yitzchak saw the world from the perspective of the Garden of Eden. He saw perfection. He saw the culmination of history, the realisation of the process of redemption, the return to the perfected state of Eden. He saw the future.
Yitzchak's entire being is intertwined with this perspective, this type of sight or perception that focuses on the future. Even his name, which represents the essence of his being, means "will laugh" - in the future. This is the real meaning of the midrashim that tell us that Yitzchak went from the Akeida to Gan Eden: His eyes were "fixed" at the Akeida, his perception altered. Now he had perfect vision. Now he saw a perfect world. He saw the world from the vantage point of Eden.
That perspective, that perception, gave him the ability, even the courage, to approach a person like Yishmael, and to attempt to create harmony from the dissonance. Yitzchak saw that Yishmael can and will do teshuva, that Yishmael can and will come to recognize that there is One God.
(Taken from an essay by R' Ari Kahn.)
Shabbat Shalom!
This question is asked by Rabbenu Bavhya, who notes that the love for his father should have at least equalled that for his father. Where was his eulogy? Where were his tears? Rabbenu Bachya explains that Yitzchak had just come through another traumatic episode, the Akeidah, where he came within seconds of death, only Hashem's last gasp intervention saved his life. Rabbenu Bachya offers the explanation that due to his fragile psycological condition, Yitzchak was not told of his mother's death. Rabbenu Bachya then points out a blatant textual oddity: Not only is Yitzchak missing from Sarah's funeral, his disappearance begins at an earlier juncture, in the aftermath of the Akeida. What is happening?
When Avraham sets out for the mountain he takes Yitzchak and two others, referred to as "נערים," young men. The text tells us that they walked together:
"And Avraham rose early in the morning, and saddled his donkey, and took two of his young men with him, and Yitzchak his son, and he took the wood for the olah, and rose and went to the place of which God had spoken to him."
On the way up the hill to the Akeidah, father and son walk together. After the episode is over however, the Torah only mentions Avraham returning to the young men:
"And Avraham returned to his young men, and they rose and went together to Beer-Sheva; and Avraham dwelled in Beer-Sheva" (Bereishit 22:19)
What happened to Yitzchak? It seems impossible that Avraham could have simply picked up and left without the son who was just saved by God Himself. He would not simply have forgotten him up on the mountain while he returned home with the young men. Again, what is happening?
There are two basic approaches found in the Midrashim to Yitzchak's whereabouts during the textual "blackout." The first approach is that Yitzchak is busy learning in Yeshiva. A second approach, found in other Midrashim, describes Yitzchak as having died or almost died, or died in a metaphorical sense, depending on nuance. Yitzchak has temporarily retired to the Garden of Eden.
Even though Yitzchak did not die it is deemed as if he died, and his ashes are on the altar... Where was Yitzchak? God took him to the Garden of Eden where he remained for 3 years. (Midrash Hagadol)
Many Midrashim see Yitzchak as having died, and Jewish liturgy abounds with references to the Akeida as if it had actually been performed to completion. Most likely, what we are meant to gain from this line of Midrashic discussion is this: Avraham's willingness to sacrifice what he loved most for God should be perceived on at least some level as if the offering was brought. On the other hand, Yitzchak ends up in Gan Eden. We might interpret this as referring to a place of spiritual perfection. It could be argued that both "paradise" and "yeshiva" may be seen as places where someone who has just been raised up on the altar as an olah, someone with a heightened sense of spirituality, might go to pursue the religious experience further.
Later on, Ya'akov dressed as Esav, enters his father's room, and Yitzchak takes a moment to enjoy the aroma of the meal served to him, of the goats his son has brought him. Rashi questions this particular pleasure, noting that few odours are as unsavoury as the stench of goats. What did Yitzchak smell? Rashi's answer is surprising: It is the bouquet of Gan Eden, the aroma of paradise. That was a smell familiar to Yitzchak: he once lived there. Yitzchak paused to recall this scent, to retrieve this sensory memory.
The Torah tells us that at this point Yitzchak was blind. Rashi16 explains that this was due to the tears of the angels who cried during the Akeida. Two of Yitzchak's senses, then, were affected by the same singular experience - the Akeida. In other words, after being raised up on the altar, Yitzchak's sight is forever altered. But what is the nature of Yitzchak's perception, and what is the extent of his vision? Is he somehow damaged? Is he naive regarding his son's shortcomings, seeing less than we do - or does he perhaps see much more?
Yitzchak clearly sees differently: He sees through the prism of his Akeida experience, an experience that took him directly to Gan Eden. Eden is a place deep in the past of our collective conscience. It is also a place in the future. Gan Eden represents a perfect world, it represents our world perfected, This is how Yitzchak saw, not through the jaundiced eye that most people use as a spectrum, which diffuses the good and focuses on the bad. Yitzchak saw the world from the perspective of the Garden of Eden. He saw perfection. He saw the culmination of history, the realisation of the process of redemption, the return to the perfected state of Eden. He saw the future.
Yitzchak's entire being is intertwined with this perspective, this type of sight or perception that focuses on the future. Even his name, which represents the essence of his being, means "will laugh" - in the future. This is the real meaning of the midrashim that tell us that Yitzchak went from the Akeida to Gan Eden: His eyes were "fixed" at the Akeida, his perception altered. Now he had perfect vision. Now he saw a perfect world. He saw the world from the vantage point of Eden.
That perspective, that perception, gave him the ability, even the courage, to approach a person like Yishmael, and to attempt to create harmony from the dissonance. Yitzchak saw that Yishmael can and will do teshuva, that Yishmael can and will come to recognize that there is One God.
(Taken from an essay by R' Ari Kahn.)
Shabbat Shalom!
Thursday, November 20, 2008
Municipal Elections (A week late, I know.)
I apologise for taking my time, but here's an article I've been working on for the last few days...
Last week, Israel held mayoral elections nationwide. In Jerusalem there were four candidates: Meir Porush, Nir Barkat, Arkaday Gaydamak and some man who wanted to legalise weed whose name I have forgotten. If we ignore the “Aleh Yarok” (The legalise Weed party) candidate who only registered two weeks before the elections because he perceived Nir Barkat to be fraternising with the religious community, we can say that there were three serious contenders to be Mayor of Jerusalem.
The most well known was Arcadi Gaydamak, a millionaire Russian expatriate who made his fortune in arms in somewhat shady circumstances and has now made his home in Jerusalem. He has invested considerable money in Jerusalem over the past few years and has underwritten a good many worthwhile causes such as saving Bikur Cholim hospital from bankruptcy and sending residents of Sderot to Eilat for a weekend break to escape from the rockets from Gaza. I personally wondered for a long time why he was putting such a lot of money into Israel and Jerusalem when he seemed to be disinterested in politics up until now, and for a man with no obviously strong religious connection, why it is that he cares about Jerusalem so much. I can’t say what other residents of Jerusalem think about him, but I have always wondered what his true intents were.
Gaydamak was surely hoping for a better response from the Jewish residents of Jerusalem, but despite his philanthropic work, Gaydamak is viewed as something of an enigma in Israel – he has undeniably donated enormous amounts of money to a variety of Israeli causes but his politics have not been known until fairly recently. I remember when he bought Bikur Cholim hospital a few years ago that he ran a campaign trumpeting “Gaydamak for Jerusalem,” and my reaction to the campaign was, “And what do you want?” I have always wondered what his true intents were, and it appears that I was not alone, others have also been wary of him. He has seemed to be an unworthy philanthropist in the eyes of many – a man willing to give lots of money for populist causes as a mask for an ulterior motive.
If we examine the electorate, we find why Gaydamak only garnered 0.5% of the vote. We can assume that he would have gravitated to the secular vote, being an irreligious man, but he has said that "Jerusalem should always be under the Jewish administration," not a quote that sits well with the average liberal-minded, secular Israeli. Next up we have the religious vote; a large percentage of Jerusalem’s population are religious Jews, but personally I can’t understand how could he have hoped to be elected by such a patriotic demographic when he can barely speak basic Hebrew. Gaydamak’s publicity flyers even admitted as much; his campaign slogan was “Lo m’daber – Oseh!” which translates as, “Don’t speak – do!” His flyers would later be cynically hijacked when a scrawled “Ivrit” was appended to many flyers, changing the meaning to “Doesn’t speak Ivrit.” True, Gaydamak owns and has invested heavily in the capital’s most successful football team – Beitar Jerusalem, the team of choice for nationalistic Jews in and around Jerusalem, but his floundering campaign suffered a further blow as even this counted against him when Beitar lost a big match the weekend before the vote, when he was hoping that a win would help swing votes in his favour. This is only speculation, but I have my suspicions that one of the reasons he bought Beitar in the first place was to some extent a ploy in order to buy the hearts of a large percentage of the Jerusalem electorate.
Also worthy of note was that he was hoping to secure the Arab vote, but the residents of East Jerusalem largely stayed away from the elections after being told by their leaders that to vote would be to recognize the Israeli occupation. I cannot imagine that those few who did vote would have found it easy to vote for a man who owns Beitar, a club whose fans regularly chant anti-Arab songs. As such, it was no surprise that Gaydamak was had a very low percentage of the votes.
Meir Porush, candidate from the Haredi “Shas” party, was the early favourite to take the post of Mayor, but after some late developments he was left soundly beaten by Nir Barkat. I am thankful that he did not get the job, after five years of Jerusalem under the stewardship of an Orthodox Jew, it might be very healthy to have a man with a fresh outlook in place to guarantee Jerusalem’s economic growth. Mr Barkat's predecessor, Rabbi Uri Lupolianski, came from the city's growing population of highly religious ultra-Orthodox Jews, and was widely perceived to have favoured them. Mr Porush similarly made his vision of municipal Israel very clear in a speech that was recorded and broadcast on a Haredi radio station. Porush told his constituents that secularism was on the wane in the Jewish state, sspeaking in Yiddish Porush declared: “In another 15 years there will not be a secular mayor in any city in Israel, [except] perhaps in some far-flung village,” It is exactly this kind of insular and opinionated view that has alienated a great number of secular Yerushalmim. It is due to the growing influence of the Haredis in Jerusalem that there has been a backlash. Rachel Azaria of the Wake Up Jerusalemites party, a party primarily formed to protect secular Israeli interests, had wanted to do the done thing and appear, along with two fellow party candidates, on a party poster on Jerusalem busses, but this poster never made it on to a bus.
"We went to the company that handles advertisements. They said - fine, just make sure there are no women. And we said - it's not just any women; it's women who are running for city council. It won't be provocative in any way. It'll be very serious. I'm married, I have children, I'm Orthodox (religiously observant).
"And they said - no, sorry, it's a rule we have. We don't allow women to appear on buses. The very radical ultra-Orthodox ruin buses if there are pictures of women on them."
"I don't want all cities in Israel to become ultra-Orthodox," she says. "I want to live in a liberal atmosphere. It's very hard at the moment to live in Jerusalem. We want to be able to stay here."
In fact, Tim Franks of the BBC raised this issue with Meir Porush during an interview in his campaign headquarters. “He said that the story was news to him. But he insisted that - as far as he was concerned - having a picture of a woman on a bus, as long as she was in modest attire, was no problem.”
Despite Porush’s admission that there is actually nothing wrong with a photograph of a woman’s head on a public bus, not much is likely to change within the Jerusalem Haredi community’s attitude to such matters. Jerusalem is increasingly becoming a Haredi city in which the secular are feeling ever more marginalised. As the article continued, “Rachel Azaria may be cross about the censoring of her ad. But it does, she says, rather prove the point of her party, whose wake-up call is aimed at fighting the increasing religiosity of the city. ‘I don't want all cities in Israel to become ultra-Orthodox... I want to live in a liberal atmosphere. It's very hard at the moment to live in Jerusalem. We want to be able to stay here.’ ”
And so it was that Nir Barkat was elected mayor of Jerusalem last week. Personally, I believe he was the best man for the job, given the choice of other candidates. He may not have been anywhere close to the perfect candidate, but he was the best option out there. Having said that, I remain wary of him, given that he is acutely aware of the demographic he is working for, and has himself proven prepared to sacrifice his own politics in order to gain the public vote. By this I mean that he was previously a member of Kadima, the political party that supervised the expulsion from Gush Katif and Amona, and left them when it became apparent that this would block his path to the Mayorship. I am concerned that he might not have Jerusalem’s best interests at heart, and will do what any true politician does; give the electorate what they want. If that happens to be against religious interests, I have every reason to be concerned.
All of which is not to say that Barkat does not have the potential to be a very good mayor for Jerusalem, however. During a recent interview with Arutz Sheva, Barkat bemoaned the fact that Tel Aviv is regarded as Israel’s capital and that it is popularly referred to as the Merkaz, the centre, whereas the true capital, the spiritual and geographical focal point of the country, is Jerusalem. It is heartening to see a secular man who values Jerusalem and understands the importance of retaining it as our undivided capital city. In fact, that he is secular is even beneficial in such a case, for if (and when) he comes to oppose politicians who ponder on handing over East Jerusalem, his argument will be all the harder to beat, given that the “narrow-minded religious zealot” card cannot be played against him.
If these elections served to show one thing, it is that there is a very strong religious community active in Jerusalem, and that there are a sizeable number of secular Israelis disillusioned with the current state of affairs, but not significant enough to act independently of the significant religious minority. Nir Barkat is a secular man, but not so secular as Dan Birron of Aleh Yarok, who when invited to speak with the other candidates at a panel at the Great Synagogue was unwilling to conform and wear a kippah. High on his agenda is that Jerusalem be maintained as the capital of the state of Israel, Barkat understands the importance of strengthening Jerusalem. To this end, he has proposed the creation of neighbourhood councils which would meet and discuss issues that affect specific areas of Jerusalem, as well as making city council meetings and decisions more open to the public. He also suggested creating a greater Jerusalem council that would connect surrounding cities such as Ma’ale Adumim, Betar, the Gush Etzion areas and other communities beyond the Green line.
If these elections served to show one thing, it is that there is a very strong religious community active in Jerusalem, and that there are a sizeable number of secular Israelis disillusioned with the current state of affairs, but not significant enough to act independently of the significant religious minority. Nir Barkat is a secular man, but not so secular as Dan Birron of Aleh Yarok, who when invited to speak with the other candidates at a panel at the Great Synagogue was unwilling to conform and wear a kippah. High on his agenda is that Jerusalem be maintained as the capital of the state of Israel, Barkat understands the importance of strengthening Jerusalem. To this end, he has proposed the creation of neighbourhood councils which would meet and discuss issues that affect specific areas of Jerusalem, as well as making city council meetings and decisions more open to the public. He also suggested creating a greater Jerusalem council that would connect surrounding cities such as Ma’ale Adumim, Betar, the Gush Etzion areas and other communities beyond the Green line.
Barkat has also been outspoken in his criticism of the Rakevet Hakala (The light rail), calling it variously Harakevet Haklalah (The accursed rail) and HaRakevet HaTakalah (The blight rail). The railway has become a sore point for many Yerushalmim, with the main street of Jaffa closed down to one lane to allow for construction. He has called the whole project ”stupid,” and has spoken of his exasperation in dealing with city hall on the issue and noted that the transportation committee has not even met once in the past five years. But all of this strikes me as opportunism, a politician seizing upon a popular grievance and milking it for his own advantage.
It is pleasing to see a forward thinking mayor taking up office, a man who wants Jerusalem to develop economically and socially. He has mentioned that while Jerusalem sees 1-2 million tourists each year, other cities in the world like London, Paris and New York see in the area of 40 million. He estimated that there would be around 3 billion people in the world who would like to come to visit Jerusalem, and it is up to us to tap this huge potential resource. He struck the nail on the head when he said that “Tourists are not interested in seeing a movie, but want to see an aspect of the culture unique to the city.” There is a lot of investment that needs to be made, but the revenues will greatly outweigh any costs.
While he is a secular man, Barkat was granted the support of a number of Rabbanim, notably Rabbi Eliyahu and Rav Haim Druckman due to his liberal and pluralistic outlook. There is one caveat, however. Barkat was a member of Kadima until he left the party earlier this year over a disagreement over settlement in East Jerusalem. Kadima, a largely irreligious party, has placed Jerusalem on the negotiating table with the Palestinians, whereas Barkat is adamant that the city should not be divided. He has said that he hopes to build more Jewish homes in Israeli-Arab areas in the east of the city. This is just a theory, but I am slightly wary of Barkat in that this might all have been posturing in an attempt to win a firm support from his local constituents, people almost certainly bound to take exception to any plans to hand over control of East Jerusalem. Knowing that being a member of Kadima would serve as a reason to vote against him in the eyes of many religious people, did he act accordingly and unceremoniously ditch Kadima in order to assume and exploit the role of defender of Zion for his own gain? Time will tell.
Last week, Israel held mayoral elections nationwide. In Jerusalem there were four candidates: Meir Porush, Nir Barkat, Arkaday Gaydamak and some man who wanted to legalise weed whose name I have forgotten. If we ignore the “Aleh Yarok” (The legalise Weed party) candidate who only registered two weeks before the elections because he perceived Nir Barkat to be fraternising with the religious community, we can say that there were three serious contenders to be Mayor of Jerusalem.
The most well known was Arcadi Gaydamak, a millionaire Russian expatriate who made his fortune in arms in somewhat shady circumstances and has now made his home in Jerusalem. He has invested considerable money in Jerusalem over the past few years and has underwritten a good many worthwhile causes such as saving Bikur Cholim hospital from bankruptcy and sending residents of Sderot to Eilat for a weekend break to escape from the rockets from Gaza. I personally wondered for a long time why he was putting such a lot of money into Israel and Jerusalem when he seemed to be disinterested in politics up until now, and for a man with no obviously strong religious connection, why it is that he cares about Jerusalem so much. I can’t say what other residents of Jerusalem think about him, but I have always wondered what his true intents were.
Gaydamak was surely hoping for a better response from the Jewish residents of Jerusalem, but despite his philanthropic work, Gaydamak is viewed as something of an enigma in Israel – he has undeniably donated enormous amounts of money to a variety of Israeli causes but his politics have not been known until fairly recently. I remember when he bought Bikur Cholim hospital a few years ago that he ran a campaign trumpeting “Gaydamak for Jerusalem,” and my reaction to the campaign was, “And what do you want?” I have always wondered what his true intents were, and it appears that I was not alone, others have also been wary of him. He has seemed to be an unworthy philanthropist in the eyes of many – a man willing to give lots of money for populist causes as a mask for an ulterior motive.
If we examine the electorate, we find why Gaydamak only garnered 0.5% of the vote. We can assume that he would have gravitated to the secular vote, being an irreligious man, but he has said that "Jerusalem should always be under the Jewish administration," not a quote that sits well with the average liberal-minded, secular Israeli. Next up we have the religious vote; a large percentage of Jerusalem’s population are religious Jews, but personally I can’t understand how could he have hoped to be elected by such a patriotic demographic when he can barely speak basic Hebrew. Gaydamak’s publicity flyers even admitted as much; his campaign slogan was “Lo m’daber – Oseh!” which translates as, “Don’t speak – do!” His flyers would later be cynically hijacked when a scrawled “Ivrit” was appended to many flyers, changing the meaning to “Doesn’t speak Ivrit.” True, Gaydamak owns and has invested heavily in the capital’s most successful football team – Beitar Jerusalem, the team of choice for nationalistic Jews in and around Jerusalem, but his floundering campaign suffered a further blow as even this counted against him when Beitar lost a big match the weekend before the vote, when he was hoping that a win would help swing votes in his favour. This is only speculation, but I have my suspicions that one of the reasons he bought Beitar in the first place was to some extent a ploy in order to buy the hearts of a large percentage of the Jerusalem electorate.
Also worthy of note was that he was hoping to secure the Arab vote, but the residents of East Jerusalem largely stayed away from the elections after being told by their leaders that to vote would be to recognize the Israeli occupation. I cannot imagine that those few who did vote would have found it easy to vote for a man who owns Beitar, a club whose fans regularly chant anti-Arab songs. As such, it was no surprise that Gaydamak was had a very low percentage of the votes.
Meir Porush, candidate from the Haredi “Shas” party, was the early favourite to take the post of Mayor, but after some late developments he was left soundly beaten by Nir Barkat. I am thankful that he did not get the job, after five years of Jerusalem under the stewardship of an Orthodox Jew, it might be very healthy to have a man with a fresh outlook in place to guarantee Jerusalem’s economic growth. Mr Barkat's predecessor, Rabbi Uri Lupolianski, came from the city's growing population of highly religious ultra-Orthodox Jews, and was widely perceived to have favoured them. Mr Porush similarly made his vision of municipal Israel very clear in a speech that was recorded and broadcast on a Haredi radio station. Porush told his constituents that secularism was on the wane in the Jewish state, sspeaking in Yiddish Porush declared: “In another 15 years there will not be a secular mayor in any city in Israel, [except] perhaps in some far-flung village,” It is exactly this kind of insular and opinionated view that has alienated a great number of secular Yerushalmim. It is due to the growing influence of the Haredis in Jerusalem that there has been a backlash. Rachel Azaria of the Wake Up Jerusalemites party, a party primarily formed to protect secular Israeli interests, had wanted to do the done thing and appear, along with two fellow party candidates, on a party poster on Jerusalem busses, but this poster never made it on to a bus.
"We went to the company that handles advertisements. They said - fine, just make sure there are no women. And we said - it's not just any women; it's women who are running for city council. It won't be provocative in any way. It'll be very serious. I'm married, I have children, I'm Orthodox (religiously observant).
"And they said - no, sorry, it's a rule we have. We don't allow women to appear on buses. The very radical ultra-Orthodox ruin buses if there are pictures of women on them."
"I don't want all cities in Israel to become ultra-Orthodox," she says. "I want to live in a liberal atmosphere. It's very hard at the moment to live in Jerusalem. We want to be able to stay here."
In fact, Tim Franks of the BBC raised this issue with Meir Porush during an interview in his campaign headquarters. “He said that the story was news to him. But he insisted that - as far as he was concerned - having a picture of a woman on a bus, as long as she was in modest attire, was no problem.”
Despite Porush’s admission that there is actually nothing wrong with a photograph of a woman’s head on a public bus, not much is likely to change within the Jerusalem Haredi community’s attitude to such matters. Jerusalem is increasingly becoming a Haredi city in which the secular are feeling ever more marginalised. As the article continued, “Rachel Azaria may be cross about the censoring of her ad. But it does, she says, rather prove the point of her party, whose wake-up call is aimed at fighting the increasing religiosity of the city. ‘I don't want all cities in Israel to become ultra-Orthodox... I want to live in a liberal atmosphere. It's very hard at the moment to live in Jerusalem. We want to be able to stay here.’ ”
And so it was that Nir Barkat was elected mayor of Jerusalem last week. Personally, I believe he was the best man for the job, given the choice of other candidates. He may not have been anywhere close to the perfect candidate, but he was the best option out there. Having said that, I remain wary of him, given that he is acutely aware of the demographic he is working for, and has himself proven prepared to sacrifice his own politics in order to gain the public vote. By this I mean that he was previously a member of Kadima, the political party that supervised the expulsion from Gush Katif and Amona, and left them when it became apparent that this would block his path to the Mayorship. I am concerned that he might not have Jerusalem’s best interests at heart, and will do what any true politician does; give the electorate what they want. If that happens to be against religious interests, I have every reason to be concerned.
All of which is not to say that Barkat does not have the potential to be a very good mayor for Jerusalem, however. During a recent interview with Arutz Sheva, Barkat bemoaned the fact that Tel Aviv is regarded as Israel’s capital and that it is popularly referred to as the Merkaz, the centre, whereas the true capital, the spiritual and geographical focal point of the country, is Jerusalem. It is heartening to see a secular man who values Jerusalem and understands the importance of retaining it as our undivided capital city. In fact, that he is secular is even beneficial in such a case, for if (and when) he comes to oppose politicians who ponder on handing over East Jerusalem, his argument will be all the harder to beat, given that the “narrow-minded religious zealot” card cannot be played against him.
If these elections served to show one thing, it is that there is a very strong religious community active in Jerusalem, and that there are a sizeable number of secular Israelis disillusioned with the current state of affairs, but not significant enough to act independently of the significant religious minority. Nir Barkat is a secular man, but not so secular as Dan Birron of Aleh Yarok, who when invited to speak with the other candidates at a panel at the Great Synagogue was unwilling to conform and wear a kippah. High on his agenda is that Jerusalem be maintained as the capital of the state of Israel, Barkat understands the importance of strengthening Jerusalem. To this end, he has proposed the creation of neighbourhood councils which would meet and discuss issues that affect specific areas of Jerusalem, as well as making city council meetings and decisions more open to the public. He also suggested creating a greater Jerusalem council that would connect surrounding cities such as Ma’ale Adumim, Betar, the Gush Etzion areas and other communities beyond the Green line.
If these elections served to show one thing, it is that there is a very strong religious community active in Jerusalem, and that there are a sizeable number of secular Israelis disillusioned with the current state of affairs, but not significant enough to act independently of the significant religious minority. Nir Barkat is a secular man, but not so secular as Dan Birron of Aleh Yarok, who when invited to speak with the other candidates at a panel at the Great Synagogue was unwilling to conform and wear a kippah. High on his agenda is that Jerusalem be maintained as the capital of the state of Israel, Barkat understands the importance of strengthening Jerusalem. To this end, he has proposed the creation of neighbourhood councils which would meet and discuss issues that affect specific areas of Jerusalem, as well as making city council meetings and decisions more open to the public. He also suggested creating a greater Jerusalem council that would connect surrounding cities such as Ma’ale Adumim, Betar, the Gush Etzion areas and other communities beyond the Green line.
Barkat has also been outspoken in his criticism of the Rakevet Hakala (The light rail), calling it variously Harakevet Haklalah (The accursed rail) and HaRakevet HaTakalah (The blight rail). The railway has become a sore point for many Yerushalmim, with the main street of Jaffa closed down to one lane to allow for construction. He has called the whole project ”stupid,” and has spoken of his exasperation in dealing with city hall on the issue and noted that the transportation committee has not even met once in the past five years. But all of this strikes me as opportunism, a politician seizing upon a popular grievance and milking it for his own advantage.
It is pleasing to see a forward thinking mayor taking up office, a man who wants Jerusalem to develop economically and socially. He has mentioned that while Jerusalem sees 1-2 million tourists each year, other cities in the world like London, Paris and New York see in the area of 40 million. He estimated that there would be around 3 billion people in the world who would like to come to visit Jerusalem, and it is up to us to tap this huge potential resource. He struck the nail on the head when he said that “Tourists are not interested in seeing a movie, but want to see an aspect of the culture unique to the city.” There is a lot of investment that needs to be made, but the revenues will greatly outweigh any costs.
While he is a secular man, Barkat was granted the support of a number of Rabbanim, notably Rabbi Eliyahu and Rav Haim Druckman due to his liberal and pluralistic outlook. There is one caveat, however. Barkat was a member of Kadima until he left the party earlier this year over a disagreement over settlement in East Jerusalem. Kadima, a largely irreligious party, has placed Jerusalem on the negotiating table with the Palestinians, whereas Barkat is adamant that the city should not be divided. He has said that he hopes to build more Jewish homes in Israeli-Arab areas in the east of the city. This is just a theory, but I am slightly wary of Barkat in that this might all have been posturing in an attempt to win a firm support from his local constituents, people almost certainly bound to take exception to any plans to hand over control of East Jerusalem. Knowing that being a member of Kadima would serve as a reason to vote against him in the eyes of many religious people, did he act accordingly and unceremoniously ditch Kadima in order to assume and exploit the role of defender of Zion for his own gain? Time will tell.
Tuesday, November 18, 2008
Found this online...
Great clip, showing up the UN for who they really are.
Hillel Neuer of UN Watch exposes the hypocrisy of the UN Human Rights Council (March 23, 2007). For the first time ever, the Council president, Ambassador Luis Alfonso de Alba of Mexico, rejects the speech as "inadmissible" and bans it from ever being delivered again.
"Council President Luis Alfonso de Alba ruled the remarks inadmissible. . . in the depths of the U.N., this was of course logical: Mr. Neuer's commentary had been accurate..."
— Wall Street Journal
Hillel Neuer of UN Watch exposes the hypocrisy of the UN Human Rights Council (March 23, 2007). For the first time ever, the Council president, Ambassador Luis Alfonso de Alba of Mexico, rejects the speech as "inadmissible" and bans it from ever being delivered again.
"Council President Luis Alfonso de Alba ruled the remarks inadmissible. . . in the depths of the U.N., this was of course logical: Mr. Neuer's commentary had been accurate..."
— Wall Street Journal
Monday, November 17, 2008
Just two quick thoughts of mine
Having been ill recently, I've had a little bit time to think about "stuff."
Two things have been on my mind. They are both fairly trivial, but I want to put them up here to see what responses, if any, they trigger.
First up: I note the recent furore in America over California's Proposition 8, which is attempting to determine marriage. Thinking it over, I came to the realisation that as the gay community are merely seeking equal rights, and they do not really care about marriage.
Marriage is treated with increasing disdain in the modern world, and the only people who really care about it are religious. The overwhelming majority of people across the globe nowadays think nothing of pre-marital and extra-marital sexual relations. Marriage is an anachronism to most modern, "forward-thinking" Western minds. If the gay community really want equal rights, they should ignore the tag of being married. (After all, even those who do believe in marriage only mock the concept of being faithful to one partner for life by having affairs and/or getting divorced, often repeatedly. I wonder whether people actually believe themselves when they say "Till death do us part.")
From a Torah perspective, my Rabbanim are absolutely right when they say that we should stop listening to modern music. I mean, can I listen to and sing songs about love by a 17 year old girl or boy band, and honestly humour their oh so deep "thoughts?" They will sing about true love, and the next line will be "I'll never break your heart again." Why should anybody's heart be broken even once? Hearts aren't made to broken. Of course our darling Ms. Britney Spears believes in love, of course she believes in marriage - after all, she's been married three times! How does that girl look in the mirror in the morning and take herself seriously? No wonder she had a breakdown a year or two ago.
If the gay community want to be accepted, they should take themselves seriously and sleep around. It's what everyone else is doing!
Second thought, and it's a short one - Only men can be romantics. I mean, I take it as a given that girls are romantics, and I expect every girl I meet to be sensitive in that way. In fact, I would worry if I met a girl who isn't a romantic. So girls, please don't call yourselves "a hopeless romantic" on your facebook page, because a) you shouldn't put your life up for display, and b) You're a girl, you're supposed to be. It's just being girly. So only men can be romantics. Thankfully there are enough men out there who are determined to be macho (even more than I am) to make guys like me seem a little bit sensitive.
Lastly, men who call themselves "hopeless romantic" or the like on their facebook page are banal. End of.
Two things have been on my mind. They are both fairly trivial, but I want to put them up here to see what responses, if any, they trigger.
First up: I note the recent furore in America over California's Proposition 8, which is attempting to determine marriage. Thinking it over, I came to the realisation that as the gay community are merely seeking equal rights, and they do not really care about marriage.
Marriage is treated with increasing disdain in the modern world, and the only people who really care about it are religious. The overwhelming majority of people across the globe nowadays think nothing of pre-marital and extra-marital sexual relations. Marriage is an anachronism to most modern, "forward-thinking" Western minds. If the gay community really want equal rights, they should ignore the tag of being married. (After all, even those who do believe in marriage only mock the concept of being faithful to one partner for life by having affairs and/or getting divorced, often repeatedly. I wonder whether people actually believe themselves when they say "Till death do us part.")
From a Torah perspective, my Rabbanim are absolutely right when they say that we should stop listening to modern music. I mean, can I listen to and sing songs about love by a 17 year old girl or boy band, and honestly humour their oh so deep "thoughts?" They will sing about true love, and the next line will be "I'll never break your heart again." Why should anybody's heart be broken even once? Hearts aren't made to broken. Of course our darling Ms. Britney Spears believes in love, of course she believes in marriage - after all, she's been married three times! How does that girl look in the mirror in the morning and take herself seriously? No wonder she had a breakdown a year or two ago.
If the gay community want to be accepted, they should take themselves seriously and sleep around. It's what everyone else is doing!
Second thought, and it's a short one - Only men can be romantics. I mean, I take it as a given that girls are romantics, and I expect every girl I meet to be sensitive in that way. In fact, I would worry if I met a girl who isn't a romantic. So girls, please don't call yourselves "a hopeless romantic" on your facebook page, because a) you shouldn't put your life up for display, and b) You're a girl, you're supposed to be. It's just being girly. So only men can be romantics. Thankfully there are enough men out there who are determined to be macho (even more than I am) to make guys like me seem a little bit sensitive.
Lastly, men who call themselves "hopeless romantic" or the like on their facebook page are banal. End of.
Thank you!
It's hard to write a blog sometimes, especially when there's a concerted effort to type up a Dvar Torah each week. I continue to blog partly because I notice that the "hit-counter" at the bottom of this page is steadily increasing, signifying a steady flow of readers.
But, and this is a big but, blogging is all too often a one-way street and as such can be a tad unrewarding at times. So I would like to take the opportunity to thank those of you who have left me messages this last week - it really makes a difference to receive feedback. Please continue to do leave comments for me, and if you have any advice or requests for content, I'd be delighted to listen.
Thank you, Elan
But, and this is a big but, blogging is all too often a one-way street and as such can be a tad unrewarding at times. So I would like to take the opportunity to thank those of you who have left me messages this last week - it really makes a difference to receive feedback. Please continue to do leave comments for me, and if you have any advice or requests for content, I'd be delighted to listen.
Thank you, Elan
Sunday, November 16, 2008
On bringing the troops home
I'm not going to discuss the left wing anti-war movement as a whole in this post, I just wanted to explore a small part of their campaign and provide my thoughts on the matter.
As we all know, the liberal minded community is against war as a whole, be that the ongoing war in Afghanistan, or the effort in Iraq. (And certainly against Israel defending itself from Palestinian terrorists.) They desperately want peace, and want their troops out these war zones post haste. The American and British anti-war sentiment is particularly vocal, having sent in large numbers of troops into far flung corners of the world in an attempt to restore order and create an environment more conducive to the different Muslim sects co-existing.
Although I do not agree with their arguments, I can understand the claim that these wars are not ones that the West should have gotten involved with. What I cannot fathom is that the anti-war movement continues to blather on about "bringing our troops home." History has shown us that America repeatedly attempts to remedy the worlds ill by force, is partially successful, and then ruins the whole venture by pulling out early. I watched the film "Charlie Wilson's War" last month, and one exchange particularly struck a chord. The film's protagonist, Charlie Wilson is speaking with a board of government or CIA officials, trying to secure funding for a school in Afghanistan:
Official 1: I was in the Roosevelt room with the President last week. You know what he said? He said, "Afghanistan? Is that still going on?"
CW: "Well it is. Half the population of that country is under the age of fourteen. Half the population is under the age of fourteen, now think how f***ing dangerous that is. They're gonna come home and find their families are dead, their villages have been napalmed.
Official 2: And we helped kill the guys who did it!
CW: Yeah, but they don't know that Bob, cos they don't get home delivery of the New York times. And even if they did, it was covert, remember? This is what we always do, we go in with our ideals and we change the world. And then we leave. We always leave. But that ball though, it keeps on bouncing.
Official 2: What?
CW: The ball keeps on bouncing.
Official 2 (distractedly): Yeah, we're a little busy right now, re-organising Eastern Europe, don't you think?
CW: We've spent billions, let's spend a million on H0118, and rebuild a school.
Official 2: Charlie, nobody gives a s*** about a school in Pakistan.
CW (mutters firmly): Afghanistan.
The point is clear, once the threat is neutralised the job is only half-done. To make sure that America doesn't have to go back to Iraq in 15 years' time, they must spend time and money now to reinforce to safety and comparative calm that has been brought to cities like Baghdad and Kabul. If the Nato troops were to leave now, the Muslim extremists will step into the breach and claim the hearts and minds of their compatriots as if the war had never happened.
Apparently there's a Chassidic saying that illustrates our point precisely that goes something like, "Don't jump on to a lion's back!" All fair and well, you might think. But the saying continues, "But if you're on a lion's back, don't jump off!" The parallel is crystal-clear. If the anti-war movement are genuinely liberal-minded, and are genuinely compassionate and caring human beings, then they must understand this vital point. If they honestly value life, then they will see that it would be counterproductive to pull out American and British troops from Iraq and Afghanistan. Any attempt to extricate our armies from the Middle East before the right time would have disastrous effect, yet again.
Nobody wants these wars to continue any longer, but pulling out now would leave a vacuum of power and influence. Approximately twelve years after American cash flows stopped reaching Afghanistan, the American army was once again halfway across the world trying to fix a problem that could have been avoided if a few million had been spent on education.
I'm sure that a good many left-wingers could read this and dismiss it as a right-winger trying to play on the conscience of good honest people, but wouldn't that be making the same mistake all over again? Has the anti-war movement has got so caught up in it's mantras and slogans that it has forgotten its true raison d'être?
If saving lives is important, then we must take a long-term perspective. I appreciate that it is far from pleasant for a western mother to know that her son is at risk, involved in a conflict that really hasn't all that much to do with her or her son, yet what about all the people who would die if America and the European coalition were to pull out over the next two years? Are we so racist as to say that an American or British soldier's life is worth more than 100 Iraqi or Afghani lives? For if we excuse ourselves from the hassle that is the clean-up operation after the war, we can be sure that Iraq and Afghanistan will once again turn into a festering breeding ground for hatred, the perfect fodder for Al Qaeda and the like.
As we all know, the liberal minded community is against war as a whole, be that the ongoing war in Afghanistan, or the effort in Iraq. (And certainly against Israel defending itself from Palestinian terrorists.) They desperately want peace, and want their troops out these war zones post haste. The American and British anti-war sentiment is particularly vocal, having sent in large numbers of troops into far flung corners of the world in an attempt to restore order and create an environment more conducive to the different Muslim sects co-existing.
Although I do not agree with their arguments, I can understand the claim that these wars are not ones that the West should have gotten involved with. What I cannot fathom is that the anti-war movement continues to blather on about "bringing our troops home." History has shown us that America repeatedly attempts to remedy the worlds ill by force, is partially successful, and then ruins the whole venture by pulling out early. I watched the film "Charlie Wilson's War" last month, and one exchange particularly struck a chord. The film's protagonist, Charlie Wilson is speaking with a board of government or CIA officials, trying to secure funding for a school in Afghanistan:
Official 1: I was in the Roosevelt room with the President last week. You know what he said? He said, "Afghanistan? Is that still going on?"
CW: "Well it is. Half the population of that country is under the age of fourteen. Half the population is under the age of fourteen, now think how f***ing dangerous that is. They're gonna come home and find their families are dead, their villages have been napalmed.
Official 2: And we helped kill the guys who did it!
CW: Yeah, but they don't know that Bob, cos they don't get home delivery of the New York times. And even if they did, it was covert, remember? This is what we always do, we go in with our ideals and we change the world. And then we leave. We always leave. But that ball though, it keeps on bouncing.
Official 2: What?
CW: The ball keeps on bouncing.
Official 2 (distractedly): Yeah, we're a little busy right now, re-organising Eastern Europe, don't you think?
CW: We've spent billions, let's spend a million on H0118, and rebuild a school.
Official 2: Charlie, nobody gives a s*** about a school in Pakistan.
CW (mutters firmly): Afghanistan.
The point is clear, once the threat is neutralised the job is only half-done. To make sure that America doesn't have to go back to Iraq in 15 years' time, they must spend time and money now to reinforce to safety and comparative calm that has been brought to cities like Baghdad and Kabul. If the Nato troops were to leave now, the Muslim extremists will step into the breach and claim the hearts and minds of their compatriots as if the war had never happened.
Apparently there's a Chassidic saying that illustrates our point precisely that goes something like, "Don't jump on to a lion's back!" All fair and well, you might think. But the saying continues, "But if you're on a lion's back, don't jump off!" The parallel is crystal-clear. If the anti-war movement are genuinely liberal-minded, and are genuinely compassionate and caring human beings, then they must understand this vital point. If they honestly value life, then they will see that it would be counterproductive to pull out American and British troops from Iraq and Afghanistan. Any attempt to extricate our armies from the Middle East before the right time would have disastrous effect, yet again.
Nobody wants these wars to continue any longer, but pulling out now would leave a vacuum of power and influence. Approximately twelve years after American cash flows stopped reaching Afghanistan, the American army was once again halfway across the world trying to fix a problem that could have been avoided if a few million had been spent on education.
I'm sure that a good many left-wingers could read this and dismiss it as a right-winger trying to play on the conscience of good honest people, but wouldn't that be making the same mistake all over again? Has the anti-war movement has got so caught up in it's mantras and slogans that it has forgotten its true raison d'être?
If saving lives is important, then we must take a long-term perspective. I appreciate that it is far from pleasant for a western mother to know that her son is at risk, involved in a conflict that really hasn't all that much to do with her or her son, yet what about all the people who would die if America and the European coalition were to pull out over the next two years? Are we so racist as to say that an American or British soldier's life is worth more than 100 Iraqi or Afghani lives? For if we excuse ourselves from the hassle that is the clean-up operation after the war, we can be sure that Iraq and Afghanistan will once again turn into a festering breeding ground for hatred, the perfect fodder for Al Qaeda and the like.
The Neutral Swiss
Oh, our dear friends the Swiss. Staunchest defenders of neutrality and spinelessness.
Before I fell ill last week, I was working on a story that really got my blood boiling. I shall quote a story that I read online, but shall change it slightly for you.
The government has officially rehabilitated the reputation of the young Swiss man executed in Nazi Germany for an attempted murder charge. President Pascal Couchepin admitted on Friday that the Swiss government at the time could have done more to defend Maurice Bavaud. "With hindsight, the then Swiss authorities did too little to intervene on behalf of the condemned person... he deserves our recognition," Couchepin said.
The government announcement comes in response to a motion by parliamentarian Paul Rechtsteiner who demanded an explanation why the Swiss authorities had up until now failed to rehabilitate Bavaud. It will be 70 years on Sunday since the 22-year-old failed in his attempt to shoot a man at a rally in Munich. He was arrested and spent 30 months in solitary confinement before being executed. During his imprisonment, Bavaud was never visited by the Swiss diplomatic representative in Berlin, who called the assassination attempt a "detestable act".
Apparently a Swiss man had his reputation posthumously reinstated on the 7th of November for attempting to assassinate the most evil man in recent history.
Correct, ladies and gentlemen! Maurice Bavaud attempted to kill Adolf Hitler. By coincidence, Bavaud made his attempt just hours before Kristallnacht, the Night of Broken Glass, when Nazis destroyed synagogues and Jewish businesses across Germany and Austria.
"He seems to have anticipated the doom that Hitler would bring to the whole world," President Pascal Couchepin said in a statement posted on his official Web site. "For this he deserves our remembrance and recognition."
Bavaud, who was from the western Swiss town of Neuchatel, regarded the Nazi leader as a danger to Switzerland, Christianity and all of humanity. He was arrested several days after his failed assassination attempt and tortured into confessing his plans to the Gestapo, the secret police. Theologian Peter Spinatsch, who continues to campaignin for Bavaud's rehabilitation, says Couchepin's statement does not go far enough. "I expected them to apologize for the despicable behavior of the Swiss police, who in 1940 wrote a report for the Gestapo that further incriminated Bavaud," Spinatsch told The Associated Press.
Switzerland followed a policy of neutrality toward Germany before and during World War II and thus failed to intervene on Bavaud's behalf, and the young theology student was consequently guillotined in a Berlin prison in May 1941.
My reactions are of disgust and anger. Isn't that disgraceful? I knew that Switzerland acted in an irresponsible, spineless way during the war, but this is an absolute horror. The man tried to kill Hitler, on the eve of Kristallnacht no less, and Swiss couldn't request him to be sent home to be dealt with internally? Maurice Bavaud was nothing less than a hero, albeit a slightly mad one, and the Swiss were so cold as to refuse him a defence against the mighty German war machine. The man who should have defended him labeled him as having attempted a "detestable act." I would have put it rather differently. I understand the concept of self-preservation, but this was heartless, true callousness.
Saturday, November 15, 2008
Tequila Diamonds
I read a great story last week on the BBC news website, and I just want to share it with you. The article is copied here or available on the BBC website. (I have made some minor edits.)
---
Diamonds produced from tequila
By Greg Morsbach, BBC News
A method of producing synthetic diamonds using tequila - Mexico's favourite alcoholic drink - has been discovered, scientists there say.
The amazing discovery was made by physicists from the National Autonomous University of Mexico, and could have many industrial uses. There is one catch however. The synthetic diamond crystals are too small to be turned into jewellery.
Mexico produces hundreds of millions of litres of tequila every year and annual sales to the US alone are worth about $500m.
The head of the scientific team, Miguel Apatica explained to the BBC how they came up with their discovery. "First of all we turn the liquid tequila into vapour by using a lot of heat. The gas molecules are then broken up into tiny particles. Then we increase the heat even further - to around 800 degrees Celsius. The end result is that we get carbon atoms which are then deposited in the shape of a very thin diamond film," he added.
The synthetic diamond crystals can only be seen under an electronic microscope, and although they cannot be used for jewellery, there are plenty of practical applications for them. They can be used as an alternative to silicone in computer chips or as ultra fine cutting instruments in medical procedures. One advantage of making diamond film from tequila is that it is extremely cheap. The scientists found that even the cheapest of tequila brands, averaging at $3 a bottle, are good enough to make diamonds.
---
Next step, alchemy!
You gotta love the Japanese!
"Bamgoo", an electric car with a body made out of bamboo, is displayed in Kyoto, western Japan, November 14, 2008. The sixty-kilogram single-seater ecologically friendly concept car, which measures 270 centimeters in length, 130 centimeters in width and 165 centimeters in height, is developed by Kyoto University Venture Business Laboratory, featuring bamboo articles in the Kyoto area. The car can run for 50 kilometers on a single charge.
Pasted from english.people.com.cn
The Japanese have created so many wacky and useless inventions that there has been a spin-off culture called "Chindogu" (Pronounced "shindogu.") Chindogu is defined on the French version of Wikipedia. (Which has kindly been translated to English for us by Google, so excuse the idiosyncrasies.) Chindogu, explains Wikipedia, is "the Japanese art of inventing 'useful but unusable' gadgets. These objects are useful because they meet small daily problems of modern life but are unusable in practice because of the new constraints they generate or ridiculous they entail."
"Chindogu is actually an art created in the 1980s by Kenji Kawakami, a Japanese engineer. Although he filed several patents, Kenji Kawakami claimed to invent the idea or innovation but not for commercial purposes or utility. He denounced as the "consumerism" and "utilitarianism" ubiquitous in the modern world."
This looks for all the world as though it is a Chindogu, but it's not! If you re-read the paragraph accompanying the picture above you will see that the car was developed by "Kyoto University Venture Business Laboratory" and is very much a commercial enterprise.
Which begs the question: Did they not build the car with the potential for crashes in mind? (Or is the car just one big crumple zone?!)
Chindogu wannabe!
Friday, November 14, 2008
Parshat Vayera - פרשת וירא
I saw this last week a video of Rav Milstone of Yeshivat Hakotel and Midreshet Harova giving a shiur in Midreshet Harova for Parshat Miketz last year. There was one part that was relevant to our week's Parsha, and I'd like to give it over here.
He said in the name of the Netivot Shalom (EDIT: I *think* he said it was in the name of the Netivot Shalom, but I know that the Maharal also said it) that there is a certain fundamental saying in Chassidic literature that the greatest Kedoshim of Am Yisrael automatically did what had to be done. He continued by stating that there is a madrega of fulfilling God's will that is in the mind. The best kind of term I can think of this is, "acquiescing to God's will." We have come to a logical conclusion that this is what must be done, and this is what happens when the mind wants to do what God wants.
.gif)
In addition to the level of doing Hashem's will in mind, there's also a level above in which one the stimulus to do a mitzvah emanates from the heart. The highest level however, is from within in the limbs of your body. The Tzaddikim who worked on keeping their bodies pure and utilising them in pursuit of pure activity turned their bodies into a "מרכבה לשכינה" It is when your body wants to do the will of Hashem that a man is on the highest spiritual level possible. It should be that our feet start taking us to the Minyan. When our limbs start doing what God wants them to do, we are on the highest level possible - the level of true Tzaddikim.
But isn't that a problem? Haven't we then turned into automatons, mere robots? If the purpose of existence is free choice, then what has happened here? Surely this can't be!
Here is where our Parsha comes in. If we look at the Akeidah, we see that at the point that Avraham raises his knife the pasuk says, "וישלח את ידו - And he cast his hand." What does it mean by "He cast?" Why did he throw his hand forward to do the mitzvah? This terminology is not easy to understand and caused many commentaries to remark upon its usage. As Rav Milstone said, "You don't throw your hand. Throw a ball, throw a piece of paper." Why not say "ויקח - And he took?"
The answer is given that as his limbs had learned to do the will of God, to do as God truly wanted, they opposed Avraham's attempt to pick up the knife. God as we know didn't want him to slaughter Yitzchak, and his limbs were able to "sense" this. And so when he went to take the knife, his hand would not budge. His hand refused to move for the love of God, quite literally!
But he wanted to do it, for that was the command of Hashem as he saw it. So "וישלח את ידו" - he overpowered and threw out his hand to do the Mitzvah.
Shabbat Shalom!
He said in the name of the Netivot Shalom (EDIT: I *think* he said it was in the name of the Netivot Shalom, but I know that the Maharal also said it) that there is a certain fundamental saying in Chassidic literature that the greatest Kedoshim of Am Yisrael automatically did what had to be done. He continued by stating that there is a madrega of fulfilling God's will that is in the mind. The best kind of term I can think of this is, "acquiescing to God's will." We have come to a logical conclusion that this is what must be done, and this is what happens when the mind wants to do what God wants.
.gif)
In addition to the level of doing Hashem's will in mind, there's also a level above in which one the stimulus to do a mitzvah emanates from the heart. The highest level however, is from within in the limbs of your body. The Tzaddikim who worked on keeping their bodies pure and utilising them in pursuit of pure activity turned their bodies into a "מרכבה לשכינה" It is when your body wants to do the will of Hashem that a man is on the highest spiritual level possible. It should be that our feet start taking us to the Minyan. When our limbs start doing what God wants them to do, we are on the highest level possible - the level of true Tzaddikim.
But isn't that a problem? Haven't we then turned into automatons, mere robots? If the purpose of existence is free choice, then what has happened here? Surely this can't be!
Here is where our Parsha comes in. If we look at the Akeidah, we see that at the point that Avraham raises his knife the pasuk says, "וישלח את ידו - And he cast his hand." What does it mean by "He cast?" Why did he throw his hand forward to do the mitzvah? This terminology is not easy to understand and caused many commentaries to remark upon its usage. As Rav Milstone said, "You don't throw your hand. Throw a ball, throw a piece of paper." Why not say "ויקח - And he took?"
The answer is given that as his limbs had learned to do the will of God, to do as God truly wanted, they opposed Avraham's attempt to pick up the knife. God as we know didn't want him to slaughter Yitzchak, and his limbs were able to "sense" this. And so when he went to take the knife, his hand would not budge. His hand refused to move for the love of God, quite literally!
But he wanted to do it, for that was the command of Hashem as he saw it. So "וישלח את ידו" - he overpowered and threw out his hand to do the Mitzvah.
Shabbat Shalom!
Tuesday, November 11, 2008
One bad cold
I started this message yesterday afternoon having just got back to my grandparents' in Netanya after being discharged from Laniado hospital in Kiryat Sanz. To all of you who called me, texted me, or left me messages on facebook, I shall try to get back to you within the next day. Until then, for all of you who asked, I hope this shall suffice...
Last Friday morning I woke up with a badly blocked nose and a slight headache. I was due to go to my Aunt and Uncle's in Bet Horon, and thought about canceling, but seeing as hardly ever see them, I didn't seriously entertain the notion. In any case, I'd had a cold for about three weeks now, so I wasn't all that bothered. I went, and over the course of the Shabbat, my sniffles went down a bit, aided by menthol and eucalyptus vapour, along with carvol and paracetamol. Motzei Shabbat and Sunday morning my cold was the same as before, and on Sunday afternoon I travelled to Netanya to visit my Saba in Ichilov hospital in Tel Aviv, and then spend the night in Netanya with my Savta, so that she wouldn't be alone. (She's partially deaf, and is afraid that if the phone should ring, or a break in should chas v'shalom happen, she wouldn't know about it until too late.)
That was Sunday night. I woke up around 4:30 Monday morning, panting for breath. My nose was blocked, but now my sinuses were too, and I was wheezing and puffing just so that I could take in enough breath. There was a lot of phlegm in my system, but it hurt my throat to try to blow my nose. After drinking a hot cuppa, my breathing was finally relaxed enough for me to go back to sleep for a couple of hours, but even then, only after puffing like a train just to breathe.
The whole day I had no energy in me. I barely said my tefillot, skipping over almost everything bar the Brachot and Shmona Esrei. I didn't put on Tefillin or say Sh'ma. As soon as I was done, I had to put my head down. My Savta repeatedly asked me, "do you want to go to the pharmacy or to the Doctor?" But I refused, thinking it was just a bad cold, and it would pass soon enough.
At this point I simply assumed that my cold was attacking particularly deep, and thought nothing more of it. But everything I did on Monday was ridiculously tiring, for example I had to stop drinking a hot honey and lemon drink in order to lie down on the sofa. And then after doing that for 10 minutes, I would have to lie down in bed for half an hour.
I didn't eat the whole day, and put off putting on my Tefillin and saying Mincha because I had so little strength, Eventually it got close to Shkiah, the latest time to say Mincha, so I put on my Tefillin and Tallit and said Sh'ma with them on, and then said Shmonah Esrei while seated. I had no energy left, and leaving my Tallit strewn across the dining room table, I then lay down on the floor and crashed for half an hour or so, as my back was hurting so much. My Savta told me that the recliner would be better for my back and so I clambered into it and rested in a state of effective paralysis from the exhaustion.
Not long after, my Savta offered me some dinner and I meekly agreed, but when she told me that it was ready, I had no energy to get up. She placed it on my lap instead, and I managed to eat a few chips and then a slice of tomato but it was too much for my sore throat, and the tomato really hurt on the way down. I had to rest, and leaned forward to put the tray on the coffee table, and after a while moved to the sofa to rest. A little while later I headed for the table to put my head down, and then after that I progressed to bed. Maybe half an hour passed and I realised that it was no use. If I couldn't eat or even try to sleep this thing off, I had to go to the Doctor. I signaled my Savta, and let her know that I wanted to go. I called a taxi, and we went outside. Maybe 5 minutes passed, and a taxi pulls up on the other side of the road. We went to it, and lo and behold my Saba was inside, discharged from hospital in Tel Aviv! It wasn't the taxi we ordered, but it certainly was the right taxi! We told him that I wasn't feeling well and he told us to hop inside with him.
My Saba told us that the pharmacies and the Doctor's would be closed by now so we headed to Laniado hospital. Within 15 minutes of my arrival, they gave me something called "Inhalatziah," a mask attached to a tube which pumped oxygen and some other gases into my passages. After about two minutes, my nose was completely unblocked and breathing through my mouth was noticeably less wheezy. Baruch Hashem.
I then was taken for an X-ray of my chest, but as the results were unclear, I was told to stay for the night. The doctors had reason to suspect that this was no mere cold and wanted to keep me under observation. I won't bore you with the details of this part, but in essence they gave me an IV and more of the "Inhalatziah" business before I went to sleep, and again at 5:00 AM and again at noon the following day.
In the meantime lots of individual nurses and even two doctors had come to check on me, ask questions and run tests on me, but not one had told me what was wrong. Finally shortly before lunch, a third doctor was asking me another load of questions when he used a word I didn't know. I asked if you could say it in English. SO he said "sputum." Unfortunately, I had no idea what that was. My blank look was enough; "phlegm!" he said. He continued asking a few more questions, and then I remarked, "You're from England, aren't you? From London, no?" He replied by asking me where I was from, and I told him that I was from Hendon. He laughed and told me he was from Woodford!
Thankful that he was relaxed, I asked him what was happening with me, and he told me that I had a cold that went down a bit too far, and now I had Bronchitis. But he said that I was in a fit state, and responding well to treatment, so he prescribed me the right drugs and told me that I was free to go.
So, to all of you who were worried, I want to let you know that I am feeling much better, but I am still short of breath until the antibiotics and I beat this thing away. Until then, feel free to deposit large sums of money in Leumi account number: 902-033530/02!
Last Friday morning I woke up with a badly blocked nose and a slight headache. I was due to go to my Aunt and Uncle's in Bet Horon, and thought about canceling, but seeing as hardly ever see them, I didn't seriously entertain the notion. In any case, I'd had a cold for about three weeks now, so I wasn't all that bothered. I went, and over the course of the Shabbat, my sniffles went down a bit, aided by menthol and eucalyptus vapour, along with carvol and paracetamol. Motzei Shabbat and Sunday morning my cold was the same as before, and on Sunday afternoon I travelled to Netanya to visit my Saba in Ichilov hospital in Tel Aviv, and then spend the night in Netanya with my Savta, so that she wouldn't be alone. (She's partially deaf, and is afraid that if the phone should ring, or a break in should chas v'shalom happen, she wouldn't know about it until too late.)
That was Sunday night. I woke up around 4:30 Monday morning, panting for breath. My nose was blocked, but now my sinuses were too, and I was wheezing and puffing just so that I could take in enough breath. There was a lot of phlegm in my system, but it hurt my throat to try to blow my nose. After drinking a hot cuppa, my breathing was finally relaxed enough for me to go back to sleep for a couple of hours, but even then, only after puffing like a train just to breathe.
The whole day I had no energy in me. I barely said my tefillot, skipping over almost everything bar the Brachot and Shmona Esrei. I didn't put on Tefillin or say Sh'ma. As soon as I was done, I had to put my head down. My Savta repeatedly asked me, "do you want to go to the pharmacy or to the Doctor?" But I refused, thinking it was just a bad cold, and it would pass soon enough.
At this point I simply assumed that my cold was attacking particularly deep, and thought nothing more of it. But everything I did on Monday was ridiculously tiring, for example I had to stop drinking a hot honey and lemon drink in order to lie down on the sofa. And then after doing that for 10 minutes, I would have to lie down in bed for half an hour.
I didn't eat the whole day, and put off putting on my Tefillin and saying Mincha because I had so little strength, Eventually it got close to Shkiah, the latest time to say Mincha, so I put on my Tefillin and Tallit and said Sh'ma with them on, and then said Shmonah Esrei while seated. I had no energy left, and leaving my Tallit strewn across the dining room table, I then lay down on the floor and crashed for half an hour or so, as my back was hurting so much. My Savta told me that the recliner would be better for my back and so I clambered into it and rested in a state of effective paralysis from the exhaustion.
Not long after, my Savta offered me some dinner and I meekly agreed, but when she told me that it was ready, I had no energy to get up. She placed it on my lap instead, and I managed to eat a few chips and then a slice of tomato but it was too much for my sore throat, and the tomato really hurt on the way down. I had to rest, and leaned forward to put the tray on the coffee table, and after a while moved to the sofa to rest. A little while later I headed for the table to put my head down, and then after that I progressed to bed. Maybe half an hour passed and I realised that it was no use. If I couldn't eat or even try to sleep this thing off, I had to go to the Doctor. I signaled my Savta, and let her know that I wanted to go. I called a taxi, and we went outside. Maybe 5 minutes passed, and a taxi pulls up on the other side of the road. We went to it, and lo and behold my Saba was inside, discharged from hospital in Tel Aviv! It wasn't the taxi we ordered, but it certainly was the right taxi! We told him that I wasn't feeling well and he told us to hop inside with him.
My Saba told us that the pharmacies and the Doctor's would be closed by now so we headed to Laniado hospital. Within 15 minutes of my arrival, they gave me something called "Inhalatziah," a mask attached to a tube which pumped oxygen and some other gases into my passages. After about two minutes, my nose was completely unblocked and breathing through my mouth was noticeably less wheezy. Baruch Hashem.
I then was taken for an X-ray of my chest, but as the results were unclear, I was told to stay for the night. The doctors had reason to suspect that this was no mere cold and wanted to keep me under observation. I won't bore you with the details of this part, but in essence they gave me an IV and more of the "Inhalatziah" business before I went to sleep, and again at 5:00 AM and again at noon the following day.
In the meantime lots of individual nurses and even two doctors had come to check on me, ask questions and run tests on me, but not one had told me what was wrong. Finally shortly before lunch, a third doctor was asking me another load of questions when he used a word I didn't know. I asked if you could say it in English. SO he said "sputum." Unfortunately, I had no idea what that was. My blank look was enough; "phlegm!" he said. He continued asking a few more questions, and then I remarked, "You're from England, aren't you? From London, no?" He replied by asking me where I was from, and I told him that I was from Hendon. He laughed and told me he was from Woodford!
Thankful that he was relaxed, I asked him what was happening with me, and he told me that I had a cold that went down a bit too far, and now I had Bronchitis. But he said that I was in a fit state, and responding well to treatment, so he prescribed me the right drugs and told me that I was free to go.
So, to all of you who were worried, I want to let you know that I am feeling much better, but I am still short of breath until the antibiotics and I beat this thing away. Until then, feel free to deposit large sums of money in Leumi account number: 902-033530/02!
Friday, November 07, 2008
Parshat Lech Lecha - פרשת לך לך
"Hashem said to Avram, 'Go for yourself, from your land, from your birthplace and from your father's house to the land that I will show you.' -'ויאמר ה' אל אברם 'לך לך מארצך וממולדתך ומבית אביך אל הארץ אשר אראך"
(בראשית 12:1)
There are two parts of this Pasuk that I would like to deal with. The immediately interesting part of this Pasuk is list of places that Hashem commands Avram to leave - Avram's land, his birthplace and his father's house, and where he is going to "the place that I will show you." I was studying this particular Pasuk earlier this week, and I think it was the Kli Yakar that says that when one lists where one hails from, one normally starts with the most local place and then mentions increasingly bigger areas. For example, The Old City, Jerusalem, Israel. Here however, the list order is reversed. I suggests that the reason for this is that when moving away from tearing oneself away from a place, a person notices things that he used to take for granted. Personally I have noticed many cases of American and English expatriates assuming an exaggerated persona. I believe that the reason for this is as much to do with being homesick and attempting to compensate for the inability to actually be immersed in the old country's culture as it is to play the culture card on local people. By this I mean that I will often exaggerate my Londoner accent for Israeli and American friends as it is both a talking point, and also reminds people where I come from and what kind of behaviour and customs to expect from me. It also serves to confirm to myself that I am different from Israelis and that although I have moved abroad, I am not a native. To misquote Sting, "I'm an Englishman in Jerusalem!"
The word ארץ in Hebrew means land, but it also has another connotation. The word may be read as "א-רץ," meaning "I will run." The concept of the ground in Hebrew is the place you are heading to to, what your goal is. Egypt is called מצרים, which derives from the word צר, meaning thin. Eretz Yisrael, a very thin strip of land geographically, is called "Eretz tova U'rechava." How can that be? The answer is simple enough; that Egypt was a spiritually stifling place for the Jews to live in, whereas in Eretz Yisrael, our potential is significantly "wider." It is only natural that a man once removed from his natural surroundings will pine for them, attempt to re-enact them in his mind. For this reason, Hashem first told Avram to leave behind the land. He wasn't telling him to literally leave the land first, that would be impossible! What was meant was for Avram to leave that mentality behind, to abandon it completely.
But where shall he go to? Ok, we have grasped the fact that Avram must leave behind all that he used to know, but where is he heading? The Pasuk simply says "אשר אראך - That I will show you." How can Avram go somewhere without knowing where it is that he is to be heading?
To answer this, we may look at the beginning of the Pasuk. The first two words Hashem said, "לך לך," may be translated as "Go for yourself," but it can also be rendered "Go to yourself." Or, alternatively, "Go (to) 50." 50 is known as one of the many numbers of Kedusha. The concept here is that Avram is not that he is being instructed to merely head for a different place on the map, rather he is being commanded by Hashem to go to his limit, to reach the highest spiritual level he possibly can.
Shabbat Shalom!
(בראשית 12:1)
There are two parts of this Pasuk that I would like to deal with. The immediately interesting part of this Pasuk is list of places that Hashem commands Avram to leave - Avram's land, his birthplace and his father's house, and where he is going to "the place that I will show you." I was studying this particular Pasuk earlier this week, and I think it was the Kli Yakar that says that when one lists where one hails from, one normally starts with the most local place and then mentions increasingly bigger areas. For example, The Old City, Jerusalem, Israel. Here however, the list order is reversed. I suggests that the reason for this is that when moving away from tearing oneself away from a place, a person notices things that he used to take for granted. Personally I have noticed many cases of American and English expatriates assuming an exaggerated persona. I believe that the reason for this is as much to do with being homesick and attempting to compensate for the inability to actually be immersed in the old country's culture as it is to play the culture card on local people. By this I mean that I will often exaggerate my Londoner accent for Israeli and American friends as it is both a talking point, and also reminds people where I come from and what kind of behaviour and customs to expect from me. It also serves to confirm to myself that I am different from Israelis and that although I have moved abroad, I am not a native. To misquote Sting, "I'm an Englishman in Jerusalem!"
The word ארץ in Hebrew means land, but it also has another connotation. The word may be read as "א-רץ," meaning "I will run." The concept of the ground in Hebrew is the place you are heading to to, what your goal is. Egypt is called מצרים, which derives from the word צר, meaning thin. Eretz Yisrael, a very thin strip of land geographically, is called "Eretz tova U'rechava." How can that be? The answer is simple enough; that Egypt was a spiritually stifling place for the Jews to live in, whereas in Eretz Yisrael, our potential is significantly "wider." It is only natural that a man once removed from his natural surroundings will pine for them, attempt to re-enact them in his mind. For this reason, Hashem first told Avram to leave behind the land. He wasn't telling him to literally leave the land first, that would be impossible! What was meant was for Avram to leave that mentality behind, to abandon it completely.
But where shall he go to? Ok, we have grasped the fact that Avram must leave behind all that he used to know, but where is he heading? The Pasuk simply says "אשר אראך - That I will show you." How can Avram go somewhere without knowing where it is that he is to be heading?
To answer this, we may look at the beginning of the Pasuk. The first two words Hashem said, "לך לך," may be translated as "Go for yourself," but it can also be rendered "Go to yourself." Or, alternatively, "Go (to) 50." 50 is known as one of the many numbers of Kedusha. The concept here is that Avram is not that he is being instructed to merely head for a different place on the map, rather he is being commanded by Hashem to go to his limit, to reach the highest spiritual level he possibly can.
Shabbat Shalom!
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
Posts
