Steven Spielberg on the Sh'ma

I saw this video clip last week on the Muqata blog and had to share it. Hope you enjoy :)

Tel Aviv

As a religious Jew, I feel a deep connection to the land of Israel. It is the land where my forefathers lived, stretching back through the era of King David and Solomon, the time that Yehoshua bin Nun took the people of Israel into the land following the exodus from Egypt, all the way to the days when Avraham was challenged by God to "go for yourself," leave his father's home and head to this, his true home. While I grew up in England and will forever be grateful for the education and relative security I was afforded in my time there, Israel has always been my real home.

For hundreds of years, Jews around the world have dreamed of making Aliyah and moving back to this holy land. Only in recent years has this dream become a real possibility, what with the resurrection of a Jewish state coupled with such innovations as mass air travel. I am incredibly lucky in that I never really had to put much thought into my own Aliyah; when I was in my mid-teens I knew that I wanted to move here and once I finished my schooling there, that's exactly what I did. No fuss. Compare that to the quite literally life-threatening journeys some people made in order to arrive here in the Holy Land. In times gone by, people made real sacrifices in order to set up a home here.

Given this long-held affection and yearning for the land by generation after generation of Jews, I can understand why some feel so upset and detached from Tel Aviv. It is cliched to describe Tel Aviv as a city quite unlike the rest of Israel, but it really is hard not to note this; it's even earned itself the nickname "HaBuah", the bubble, for it seems to be relatively unaffected by the convulsions the rest of the country goes through. While wars have gone on and the rest of the country has been operating in a state of semi-shock, it has been observed that Tel Aviv continues as if nothing is happening. The lights of the White City, as it is known, are lit up all night, every night. While other parts of the country remain deeply connected to tradition and religion, Tel Aviv is proudly secular, modern and forward-looking. After all the years waiting for our return to the promised land, I can understand the dismay of many religious Jews that Tel Aviv seems less a Jewish city than an identikit, soul-free metropolis.

But I don't think that's the case. Just now I saw this wondeful street sign on Facebook. A quick google map search showed me that it's the only of it's kind in all of Israel.

Am Yisrael Chai - The People of Israel Live

True, Tel Aviv is no Jerusalem, but the overwhelming majority of the people of Tel Aviv don't for one second deny their Jewish identity. Many are indeed secular and practise next to nothing of the religious traditions that the dozens of generations that preceded them had so vigourously and attentively safeguarded. But these people do not despise Judaism. Far from it. They are proud of who they are. If there's one thing I've learned and am trying to pursue, it is that we have to look for the common ground between us. I subscribe to a Torah-guided way of life and, as a religious Orthodox Jew, would dearly love all other Jews to do the same. But I know that such a dream is far-fetched. Instead of becoming frustrated with reality, I have to learn to accept it for what it is and look for the positives. There are plenty, if only we look for them.



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In case you're interested, the street is located here.

Saw this in an email I recently received

I saw this quote in an email I recently received. I find it absolutely incredible.

"All the nations are one day going to come together and start talking peace amongst themselves. This talk of peace will have one underlying goal: to destroy Israel. And their rationale shall be: because they [the Jews] established for themselves their own government; and though the Jews will be in tremendous danger at that time, nevertheless they will not be destroyed; in fact, from that very situation they will be saved."

Written approximately 500 years ago, by Rabbi Moshe Cordevero ("The Ramak") on Zohar Bereishis, 199.

Pilgrims

A few years ago, when I had just started learning at Yeshivat Hakotel, I discovered something about the Old City of Jerusalem. Although I was residing there and had a bedroom in the Old City that I could call my own, I soon realised that I didn't quite have the same rights as most people around the world have.

The yeshiva year starts with the Hebrew month of Elul and continues to Tisha'a B'Av, just over eleven months later. Coincidentally, the month of Elul is when Sefardim start observing the Jewish custom saying Slichot, in preparation for the impending Days of Judgment.

And so, when living in Yeshiva, I quickly had to re-adjust to a reality in which my bedroom, that sanctum of calm and relative solitude, was regularly pierced by the sound of dozens of Jews traipsing their way through the Old City's central square, strumming guitars and pounding drums, as they made their way to the Kotel. Yes, this was my bedroom and I hoped to sleep properly, but I quickly came to the realisation that my bedroom was located smack in the middle of one of the world's greatest heritage sites. The right to quiet during the night is a given for most people, but not for residents of the Old City - certainly not during the Slichot period.

Interestingly, I happened to visit the Old City the Shabbat before Yom Kippur, as I was invited out to eat there. While I was there, somebody told all present that at midnight that night, the last night before Yom Kippur, there would be a mass Slichot at the Kotel. He explained that the last night of Slichot before Yom Kippur is typically the "Sefardi Slichot;" and that Rav Ovadia Yosef (Israel's Sefardi Chief Rabbi) would be taking part, and claimed that literally thousands of people would be there. I knew that he wasn't kidding, but the claim didn't really excite me all that much, as I'd been at the Kotel in previous years during Slichot and witnessed thousands of people filling the plaza.

I ended up going back to my home in Nachlaot; I had to get up in the morning and I didn't really want to be up till 2am. I took my normal route home, passing through the centre of town on my way. There were lots of people around, which was fairly normal. What wasn't normal was that as I got closer to home and walked down the street that mine branches off, Rechov Agrippas, I noticed lots and lots of people walking in the opposite direction to me.

There were all different types of people, and I was trying to figure out whether there was some big event going on in town that I didn't know about... and then it hit me. These people were all Sefardim and were headed in the Kotel's direction. It was the biggest, best night of Slichot and to many of these people, there was no question that they would be taking part.

Some of the people were religious, some not. Some men wore kippot on their head, some were bare-headed. Others elected to use a hooded top as a makeshift head-covering, and still more walked while clutching a Kippa which they would later don. The ladies were not exactly homogeneous, either. While some dressed in the Haredi way, covering up flesh and obscuring curves, many were wearing clothes that would be deemed entirely inappropriate and incongruous with the Haredim who frequent the Kotel on a regular basis.

By their dress alone, I would never have guessed that these people feel a connection to their religion at all. I pictured these people standing at the Kotel, wanting to make a link to their religion, and striving to forge a connection with God. It makes me happy to know that this country, secular as it is, maintains such a strong link to religion. People talk of the increasing Haredi demographic in an almost bitter way, but it gives me hope to know that the average "secular" Sefardi Jew connects so strongly to his roots.

Rosh Hashanah

Much is made of Elul and the Yamim Nora'aim being times of Teshuvah, and rightly so. However, we don't do to Teshuvah for its own sake. Teshuvah is a tool to reconnect with Hashem. On the Yamim Nora'im, the main themes and Zichronot, Malchuyot and Shofarot. Let's explore these themes.

The Artscroll Siddur and Machzor have become ubiquitous in Jewish homes worldwide, and not for no reason. The translations of the text is clear and understandable in colloquial English, and there are plenty of notes and explanations to enlighten those not familiar with the services. Unfortunately, often missed are the fantastic introductions penned by Rabbi Nosson Scherman. I remember how I read the introduction to the Rosh Hashanah Machzor a few years ago, and being genuinely enlightened. A fantastic discourse is given explaining the main theme of Rosh Hashanah, and the month of Tishrei as a whole. Throughout the Aseret Y'mei HaT'shuva, starting tonight, we make repeated reference to Hashem being our Melech, our King. We add in the word "Melech" in our every Shmonah Esrei, and at other points of our Tefillot. What is so special about Hashem being a King? After all, there are many titles we may rightfully call him, what is so special about a Melech?

The Artscroll quotes the Vilna Gaon, who explains that there's more than one kind of leader. There is a מלך, a King, and a מושל, a ruler. The fundamental difference between the two is though, that a Moshel, the ruler, is "a sovereign who reigns against the wishes of his subjects; he is someone we would call a dictator or a tyrant." On the other hand, we have a Melech, who "though he may be an absolute monarch, rules with the consent and recognition of his subjects. His rule may be strict, even harsh. He is not subject to recall or re-election. Nevertheless, he rules wisely and his power is buttressed by the citizenry's acknowledgment that he is worthy of his rank and that a rudderless and leaderless society cannot function."

The Artscroll continues a page later,"Although God lacked no power before the creation of man, He had no one voluntarily to proclaim Him as King. The key word is 'voluntarily.' The angels had been created before man, and God can create infinite numbers of them at will." But angels are so close to Hashem that the exposure to His Kedushah is dazzlingly bright. The angels are fortunate enough to completely understand their purpose in creation and their free will is effectively nullified. Angels do possess free will, but they see the Emet of reality in such obvious terms that there is no room left for doubt or for sinning. They are compelled to do God's will, and have no real choice. Angels do not have debates over whether to do God's will or not; He is right in front of them! Angels do not debate the existence of God in the way that humans do, such a concept is laughable in their eyes!

As the Artscroll continues giving us an inkling of the Jewish perspective on the meaning of life, "To the angels, God is a ruler, a Creator, a Master. - but not a King. But man is different. Man can choose to recognise God and His sovereignty, or deny them. If man accepts Him, God has become man's King."

Humans on the other hand, have been plunged into a world of "אלמא דספיקא - Alma d'Sfaika," A world of doubt. Debate has raged since time immemorial about the existence of God, and man will never be able to absolutely, conclusively prove such a thing. God doesn't want us to. He wants us to live in a world of darkness, a world of doubt. If we are able to declare Hashem as our God, read "our King," in such a world, we will have succeeded in our mission. The assignment Hashem has tasked us with is to see through all the falsehood, and see God's hand orchestrating everything from underneath. We all understand the concept that if money fell from heaven every time we did a Mitzvah or avoided an Aveirah, we could effectively have no free choices. We know that the point of this world is to ignore the temptations around us and not deviate from the true path. But do we take the message on board? Do we think twice before we speak Lashon Harah, or talk while at Shul?

Actually, often enough we do. But then we suppress that though. We think to ourselves, "Yeah, whatever," or "It's not really important," and dismiss the nagging voice in our head and go ahead with the Aveirah. It is obvious outside of any particular situation that we must not do any sins, but when we are caught up in the moment, and we really want to make that joke at somebody else's expense, we perpetually set aside our consciences and continue regardless. We know better, and yet we succumb almost every time. Truly, this is a world of doubt. By the way, it is no coincidence that the nation of Amalek, the nation that historically has tried to destroy us at every opportunity, has the Gematria value of 240, which is the same as that of ספק, doubt. (עמלק = 100+30+40+70, ספק = 100+80+60) Let there be no doubt that when Am Yisrael has let itself come into a state of doubting, we are in deep trouble. If we allow ourselves to be hoodwinked by the pretences of this world, we are in serious difficulties. The answer to this problem, fortunately, is especially accessible on Rosh Hashanah. Malchuyot, Kingship is one theme of Rosh Hashanah. Another is Zichronot, Memory. If we are able to remember accurately the times we are absolutely clear and see Hashem's presence plainly, then we can overcome all doubts. That is what Emunah is about. Emunah is not about blind faith, it is about faithfulness, faithfulness to something that we know deep inside of ourselves. If we can remember our way out of moments of doubt, we can truly accept Hashem's kingship.

R' Akiva Tatz in Living Inspired (which in turn is based on "Michtav M'Eliyahu," by Rav Eliyahu Dessler z''tl,) explains that "Zichronot represents the idea of remembering in true spiritual depth the points of origin of the world and of the Jewish people and its destiny. This deep form of memory is a re-entering the male phase of conception - to go back to the initial flash or spark and re-live it vividly and literally. The root of זכר zachor, 'remember,' is identical with זכר zachar, 'male.' The connection should be obvious. Maleness is exactly that: a carrying over of the distilled essence of all previous generations in a seed which will form the next generation. The seed is a 'memory' of the past. In fact the word זכרן memory and זרע seed are numerically equivalent. The work of memory, re-living the flash of creation, is perfectly fitting and necessary for Rosh Hashanah."

So we had the bad, and now here's the good. I'll close with the words of R' Tatz, "Rosh Hashanah is the flash at the start of the year, and as such is a blueprint for it. If we live Rosh Hashanah correctly, we can experience a fantastic year! The genes of the year are being laid down now, we could say. The first Rosh Hashanah ever was the day of the creation of man. That day of creation was the world's first Rosh Hashanah, and its climactic event was the creation if the human. That is why the day always retains it power to re-create man! When we genuinely and intensely decide to elevate our personalities on Rosh Hashanah become inspired to live the coming year as higher beings we are using the day's deeply-rooted energy as the day of human creation. The day has the power to energise real change and help a person become unrecognisably different."

I hope that every one of you, and indeed all of Am Yisrael experience a beautiful, deep Rosh Hashanah, that you connect with your Tefillot and open up your hearts to Hashem, that he may accept your prayers, and that we may be granted our requests. May we come closer to Hashem and understand his ways, and may the Moshiach come soon in our merit. Shana Tova U'Metukah!