Interesting Shaatnez case - Banana Republic

Just a quick note: I had an interesting Shaatnez episode this week.

Several months ago I bought a black Banana Republic wool suit, and had it checked for shaatnez in Toronto. The suit was fine.

Last month I ordered a Banana Republic wool suit, same cut and size, just navy, and had it shipped to the same place. [I don't buy suits often, just to let you know. When I find something that works, I get a couple of them, and then I'm good for the next few years...] I had this one checked in the US, and it had shaatnez threads in the collar's lining.

This caused me to wonder about the black suit's shaatnez test. There are differences in training, and potentially in testing methods; ordinarily I would not check a suit with two checkers any more than I would bug-check a salad with two checkers, but given that the second one had turned up 'infested', I thought it worth a second check.

I brought the black suit to the US tester who had found shaatnez in the blue suit. The suit turned out to be fine.

The only material difference between the two suits was that the black suit was made in Canada, and the navy suit was made in China. [Worth noting: There is an established Shaatnez Alert regarding Banana Republic suits from Turkey.]

Key lesson I learned here: Even if one suit from a manufacturer is shaatnez-free, another suit of the same style, from the same manufacturer, may have shaatnez. On the other hand, even if one suit from a manufacturer has shaatnez, another suit, from the same manufacturer, may not. Interesting.

The Syrian Ban on Conversion

I received an email a couple of months ago arguing for a ban on conversion, in order to counter conversions which are performed for the sake of marriage. That reminded me of a New York Times piece published a few years ago on the Syrian Jewish community in Brooklyn, highlighting their ban on conversion. The article pretty much gets the story right: In 1935, out of fear of intermarriage and assimilation, the Syrians banned marriage to converts.

That wasn’t the first time a Jewish community took strict measures to reduce the likelihood of intermarriage. This concern has produced many rabbinic laws, such as bishul akum - the prohibition against eating certain foods if they are cooked by non-Jews. (Interestingly, the Church actually did the same thing in reverse; they even forbade Christians from receiving medical care from a Jewish doctor.)

Further, any Jewish authority is within his rights to refuse to cooperate with a conversion. Since Judaism teaches that a human being can be great, earn a portion in Heaven, etc, without being Jewish, one is not committing harm by refusing to participate in a conversion.

That said, I have a two-part problem with the Syrian ban.

[Note: I'm not addressing the ban's undertone of emphasizing "pure-bloodedness," a charge Jewschool lodged here in response to the NYT article. I'm not sure I agree; that same charge could be used to indict anyone who opposes intermarriage, too.]

Part 1: Despite the wording of the ban (“this law covers conversion, which we consider to be fictitious and valueless”), the Syrian authorities cannot invalidate conversions performed by legitimate authorities outside of their community. The only thing they can do is rule that Joe Convert cannot marry a Syrian woman. And once they do that, they have overstepped fundamental biblical prohibitions against harming or oppressing a convert.

Therein lies Part 1 of the problem. It’s a matter of harming the convert. The Torah says explicitly, וגר לא תונה, You shall not oppress a convert.

However: One might defend the ban by arguing that this is a case of Preserving the Community vs. Protecting the Convert. The needs of the many vs. the needs of the few. And so one might well argue for the many vs. the few; isn’t Jewish history filled with such decisions?

But there’s a second problem:

Part 2: The people you are protecting are the ones who want to intermarry inappropriately.

In order to keep your children from marrying out, you prevent converts from marrying in, and so you harm converts - who have properly joined the Jewish people - in order to benefit those who wish to sin. To borrow from Parshat Lech Lecha, it’s a case of harming the righteous while you rein in the wicked.

To which Avraham cries Heavenward, חלילה לך, This would be a desecration for You!

Granted, I have relied on the assumption that refusing marriage to a Syrian counts as oppression and harm, an assumption which may not be accurate, since there are other Jews for them to marry. But to me, telling someone who has embraced the Torah, “You may not marry our children,” counts as hurtful - even if those children are not the only Jews in the world.

Just my two cents.

Holy, but still King

[This could be a derashah for Rosh haShanah or Yom Kippur for a Rabbi who was still seeking something…]

In the period of Rosh haShanah and Yom Kippur we devote a great deal of liturgical space to the idea of coronating Gd, declaring Gd to be King. In the third blessing of the amidah we even add a special mention of Gd as King, hamelech hakadosh.

Last week, a relevant aspect of the amidah caught my eye: All year, we identify Gd as King in the first two blessings of the amidah. With the insertion of "haMelech (the King)" in the third blessing at this time of year, we complete the set.

But each King is different.

In the first blessing we speak of the Divine relationship with our patriarchs, Avraham, Yitzchak and Yaakov. (Yes, I know that some Jews insert the matriarchs, but I stick with Exodus 3:15, in which Gd self-identifies as "the Gd of Avraham, the Gd of Yitzchak, and the Gd of Yaakov," and then says, "This is My Name eternally, and this is the way you shall mention Me from generation to generation. This is the "name" for Gd as Redeemer.) We speak of Gd as identifying with each of these human beings, and we describe Gd as a King who is "helper, redeemer and shield" for them. This is an intimate King.

In the second blessing we speak of Gd as all-powerful; the blessing itself is called gevurot, a blessing about Divine might. Gd brings life, wind, rain, aid, health, death and life. And we identify Gd as a King who "causes death, causes life, and causes redemption to sprout." This King is all-powerful, and therefore distant, but this King is also involved with our existence.

Those two Kings are the ones we know all year. Then, in the period from Rosh haShanah to Yom Kippur we add a third King – "hamelech hakadosh", the Holy King. Borrowing from Chanah's description of Gd as "holy" in Shemuel I 2:2, we identify Gd as remote, removed from this universe, and yet still, on some level, associated with us as our King.

I find it odd that we would add a remote King at this time of year; we normally view Gd as "closer" at this time of year, as seen in Rosh haShanah 18a, commenting on Yeshayah 55:6. Perhaps, though, this is when we need that reminder. All year long we need to emphasize Divine closeness, lest we forget His presence. At this time of year we have so many reminders of His closeness, and so we need to accentuate His distance.

Or perhaps we are making a proud, even defiant statement: Abarbanel (to Shemuel I 2:2) understood that Chanah's statement of a "holy Gd" was a rebuke to those who claim that Gd is distant and uninterested in human affairs. "Gd is at hand!" Chanah insisted, on the authority of her personal miracle.

Yes, Gd is holy and removed, but Gd is still the King who brings death and life, still the King who was close with His intimates. Do not speak to me of a King who is dispassionate and uninterested; I acknowledge the distance, but as Chanah continues, לו נתכנו עלילות, all is known to Him, measured by Him, and valuable to Him.

Yes, I think this could become a derashah. More to say here, but this will have to do for now.

The Rabbi Shrugs

You know the old joke: "Why do Jews have short necks?" Followed by a deep shrug of the shoulders, the head sinking between them.

Rabbis respond to questions with a shrug quite often – I certainly did in my pulpit years - but the rabbinic shrug conveys different messages, depending upon the context. Here are a few examples of possible meanings, but I'm sure there are more.

A. "That would be a really long discussion, and I don't have the sources/time right now, so I'll leave it with 'I don't know'"

This isn't meant to be rude, it's just a recognition of reality. Hopefully, the Rabbi will come back later with sources, since disappointing a congregant who wants to learn would be criminal. [Case in point – my exchange with bratschegirl here, which was the trigger for this post.]

B. "That has no resolution"

Sometimes the questioner has a very good point, but we still don't accept his point of view.

For example:
Questioner: Praising Pinchas encourages zealotry!
Rabbi: This is a very good point – but we still praise Pinchas.
Questioner: Why?
Rabbi: Because zealotry is an important value in certain situations.
Questioner: But most real-life cases involve the wrong situations!
Rabbi: [shrug]

C. "I have a personal view, but that does not require a psak."

As the Rambam said regarding purely philosophical eschatological issues, we have no need to issue halachic rulings in certain areas. So why do it? [But see "A" above – the rabbi certainly should offer to discuss the various views.]

D. "There is another way to look at this, but there is no way that you would accept the second side if I would present it, and it would only result in you being angry with me, so I'd rather leave it be."

I can't count how many times I have gotten into trouble by explaining a point of view with which I didn't agree, just for the sake of being honest about both sides in a given issue. No matter how extensive the disclaimer, people tend to assume that you sympathize, at least on some level, with the view being presented. On issues like Talmud study for women (I endorse it where it is done seriously and for students who do want to learn it - just for the record), for example, it can be safer to shrug than to explain the opposing point of view.

I'm sure there are other meanings for the Rabbinic Shrug, but that's all I have time for right now. It's a classic Type A case -

"Rabbi, aren't there other meanings for the Rabbinic Shrug?"
[shrug]

A most moving video for the Ten Days of Repentance

We split our repentance process between two tiers, one our religious relationship with G-d and the other our personal relationship with our people. The following video speaks to both tiers:

1. It calls to me as a son to think about what my parents did for me;

2. It calls to me as a father to be that kind of parent for my children;

3. It calls to me as a human being to think about what Gd does for me.

Here it is; maybe you can watch this without tearing up, but I can't... (if you are very short on time, skip the first minute)

In every generation (Derashah for 2nd day of Rosh HaShanah)

[I am somewhat out of practice in writing derashos, and as a result this one came out wordier than I would have liked, but I still found it meaningful for me, and I hope it will be for those who hear it on Rosh HaShanah this year.]

Avraham held the blade aloft, prepared to slaughter a son, a dream, a nation. The inspiring exodus, the revelation at Sinai, the mishkan hosting Gd in a home of human construction, the union of Jew and Land and Torah, the civilization of King David, the prophets and exile and redemption, the Messianic era, the very purpose of the heavens and earth - all of Creation hung in the balance while the old man steadied his hand…

…And a voice broke the silence: "Avraham! Avraham! Don't do it!"

A midrash asks: "Why does it say Avraham twice? Why not just say it once?" To which I would have simply replied, "This is too important a moment to trust to Avraham's 137-year old ears; call him twice." But the midrash sees further layers of meaning; R' Chiyya says Gd repeated Avraham's name to demonstrate urgency, or perhaps love. Another thought, recorded in a Tosefta, says it was to show that Avraham was loyal both before and after this Divine call.

But the most moving answer I have seen comes from Rabbi Eliezer ben Yaakov. Noticing that the same double-call happens in Tanach to Yaakov, Moshe and Shemuel, Rabbi Eliezer ben Yaakov presented a frightening, but inspiring guarantee.

Writing two thousand years ago with foresight encompassing the 21st century Jew, Rabbi Eliezer ben Yaakov declared, " אמר לו ולדורות, אין דור שאין בו כאברהם ואין דור שאין בו כיעקב ואין דור שאין בו כמשה ואין דור שאין בו כשמואל." Gd called these men twice because, "Gd spoke to them and, in the second mention of their names, to subsequent generations. There is no generation which lacks an Avraham, there is no generation which lacks a Yaakov, there is no generation which lacks a Moshe, and there is no generation which lacks a Shemuel."

Do not misunderstand Rabbi Eliezer ben Yaakov's words – he is not simply pledging that every generation will have righteous leaders or great prophets. Rabbi Eliezer ben Yaakov promised far more; let's look at the circumstances in which these four men were called.

Avraham's case is the one we just read – He is a patriarch who declares openly to Gd, "All of Your gifts mean nothing to me, without a son." He is married to Sarah, who wanders with him in pursuit of their dream, who puts her marriage on the line to provide a son, and who is finally rewarded for her patient righteousness at the age of 90. Avraham and Sarah have invested their lives in this child, their only child, their beloved child, Yitzchak – and now they are to give him up, the only gift that ever mattered now sacrificed to Gd.

Gd calls out to Avraham at his moment of sacrifice and tells him he need not sacrifice – and in doubling Avraham's name, He calls out to us, to our dream-sacrificing Avrahams, as well.

Yaakov spent most of his life on the run, in exile. First he was pursued by his murderous brother Esav, then he spent 20 years performing hard labour in the house of Lavan. He returned to Israel only to lose his beloved wife Rachel, have his daughter Dinah taken captive, lose his son Yosef, have his son Shimon imprisoned – even at home, he was not permitted to settle down. Finally, Yosef was restored, but at a price: Yaakov would need to enter exile yet again, to descend to Egypt.

At this moment Gd calls to Yaakov, "Yaakov! Yaakov! אל תירא מרדה מצרימה, don't be afraid to go into exile; it will not be a true exile. I will be with you!" And in doubling Yaakov's name, HaShem calls to us, to our exiled Yaakovs, as well.

And then Moshe, the Egyptian prince who turns fugitive after saving the life of a Jew. A price on his head, he flees to Midian, where he builds a small family with his wife Tzipporah, until Gd tells him, "Go back to Egypt, back to the land of a despotic Pharaoh, of slavedrivers and beatings and quotas. Leave your safety and security. I know you don't want to do it, but I am charging you to return to Egypt and rescue your nation."

Gd calls to Moshe at this moment of danger and rescue, "Moshe! Moshe! I am standing beside you!" And by doubling Moshe's name, Gd cries out to every Jew who has ever launched himself into danger on behalf of others, declaring, "You are not truly in danger; I am standing beside you!"

And finally Shemuel, young Shemuel, brought to the mishkan at the youngest possible age to apprentice to Eli, the Kohen Gadol, the religious giant of the generation. Shemuel is raised by Eli, who is his surrogate parent and mentor. Eventually Eli appoints him to serve in his household. But Eli's sons have sinned horribly, abusing their power, and Gd calls to Shemuel, of all people, to convey a message of harsh rebuke: "Go give your employer, your mentor, your surrogate father, a message that will make his ears ring. For his children's sins, for his own failure to instruct them properly, I am going to destroy his household entirely; they will be cursed forever, and they will never be forgiven." The entire priesthood is to be overturned, and the deaths will number in the thousands. Go, Shemuel, and give that message of rebuke and revolution to the man who is every authority figure in your life rolled into one.

G-d opens that mission by calling to Shemuel, "Shemuel! Shemuel! I am with you, I am the true author of the revolution and Eli will accept it; do not fear!" And by doubling his name, Gd calls to the Shemuels in every generation, saying, "Do not fear to speak the unpopular truth and revolt against authority; I am with you."

Rabbi Eliezer ben Yaakov saw in these doubled calls a message deeper and more far-reaching than the individual conversations of G-d with these patriarchs.

There are two Rabbi Eliezer ben Yaakov's, and I'm not sure which is the author of this midrash, but it hardly makes a difference – because both knew well the missions of the aforementioned men.
• The first Rabbi Eliezer ben Yaakov lived through the Roman conquest of Jerusalem, saw the starvation and disease of siege, followed by Jewish blood running in the streets.
• The second Rabbi Eliezer ben Yaakov was a student of Rabbi Akiva, and he survived the fall of the Betar fortress to Hadrian's brutal forces.

The author of our midrash knew the bitter truth of Jewish history: Avraham and his sacrifice, Yaakov and his exile, Moshe and his dangerous rescue, Shemuel and his revolution, are not one-of-a-kind.
• Every generation will see Jews charged with a mission of revolt against authority, whether the deposing of Rabban Gamliel in mishnaic times or the condemnation of poor leadership in the modern age.
• Every generation will see Jews face danger to save other Jews, whether by rescuing captives of the Romans or Jews living in danger in Ethiopia or Moscow or around the Middle East.
• Every generation will see Jewish families descend into exile, whether the refugees of 1st century Jerusalem or the refugees of 20th century Germany.
• And yes, Avraham, every generation will see Jewish mothers who send their sons into danger, whether in 2nd century fortresses or today's IDF.

Rabbi Eliezer ben Yaakov's read of the akeidah is horrific – it is a promise that the sacrifices are not over, that every generation will know this pain.

But, Rabbi Eliezer ben Yaakov also reassures us with a pledge: That in every generation, HaShem will be by our side, as He stood with Avraham, Yaakov, Moshe and Shemuel. We may not always see the protection as Avraham and Moshe and Shemuel did; Yaakov did not see the end of the story in his lifetime. But HaShem will be there by our side, HaShem sees all and He stands with us.

Rabbi Eliezer ben Yaakov's message is more than a prophetic vision, though – it is also an imperative. If Gd will stand with these righteous people, then we are obligated to stand with them as well.

When we daven on Rosh haShanah and Yom Kippur, even as we think about each member of our family, our friends, people who are sick and needy, we should also see those modern Avrahams and Yaakovs, Moshes and Shemuels in our minds:
• When we hear the shofar, as we will momentarily, we should daven for the mothers who continue Avraham's work, sending their children off to fight for the land and people of Israel.
• When we hear the shofar, we should daven for the Jews still at Moshe's work of rescuing other Jews, whether working for a government or for outreach agencies around the world.
• When we hear the shofar, we should think of Jews in Yaakov's exile, including ourselves in Toronto.
• When we hear the shofar, we should think of people who are carrying on the mission of Shemuel of rejecting the status quo and rebuking irresponsible leadership. [I recognize that this requires some fleshing out, but this is a derashah and not the venue for exploring the question.]

These are the people called by HaShem in that midrash, and on Rosh haShanah, having just read the story of "Avraham! Avraham!" we daven for them, declaring "We are with you," and appealing to HaShem to be with them.

Rabbi Eliezer ben Yaakov's message is about more than davening, though; Rabbi Eliezer ben Yaakov's message is also about responsibility and leadership. The person who sacrifices, who is in danger, who is in exile, who is charged with revolution, isn't always a "them" – It can also be us.

When we hear the shofar, we ought to ask ourselves what it is saying, what is it demanding. Is it only reminding us to stand with the Avrahams and Yaakovs? Or is it also summoning us to become Moshes and Shemuels? The midrash said it: Sacrificing and dangerous rescue, exile and revolt are not historical phenomena, they are modern and current and real.

When summoned by Gd, all of the biblical figures Rabbi Eliezer ben Yaakov cited offered the same response: הנני, "Here I am, ready to serve." Avraham said it. Yaakov said it. Moshe said it. Shemuel said it. When it is our time, when we are called, when we hear the sound of the shofar momentarily, let us make sure we say it as well. Hineini.

Empowerment or Abandonment?

[This is my article from this week's Toronto Torah.]

Nearly two thousand years ago, Rabbi Yehoshua battled Rabbi Eliezer regarding a question of halachah. Rabbi Yehoshua defended the view of the assembled authorities, but Rabbi Eliezer stubbornly summoned a celestial voice, which declared, "Why do you quarrel with Rabbi Eliezer? The law always follows his view!" But Rabbi Yehoshua dismissed the heavenly interloper, citing our parshah (Devarim 30:12), "Torah is no longer in the heavens." In the end, Rabbi Yehoshua emerged victorious. (Bava Metzia 59b)

Our parshah indeed asserts that Torah is no longer in the heavens; after G-d taught Moshe all He wished to convey, no novel messages could be communicated to humanity. All innovation and application must now come from the beit midrash, authored by human minds. In general, we tend to view this evolution positively; we no longer need to ascend to the heavens in order to ascertain the Divine will. Har Sinai is in our hands!

From another perspective, though, the assignment of Torah to humanity alone is a horrifying abandonment which threatens the very veracity of our transmission of Torah. On an earlier occasion when HaShem attempted to distance Himself from us, Moshe dramatically denied permission, declaring, "If You are not going with us, do not move us from here!" (Shemot 33:15) Why, then, was Moshe not troubled now? And why was the heavenly source of authentic wisdom closed in our parshah, long before the destruction of the Beit haMikdash and the severing of our close relationship with the Divine?

In truth, the declaration that Torah has left the heavens is both empowerment and abandonment. It is empowerment of the Sages, whose supersession of the prophets is acknowledged in the talmudic observation (Bava Batra 12a), "The scholar is greater than the prophet." Further, a sage may occasionally be privileged to Divine aid; as the Talmud (Bava Batra 12a-b) indicates, scholars may find themselves inspired by a Divine muse. So it is that a scholar who has reached his wits' end may suddenly find his capacity mysteriously augmented. (For more on this, see Ramban and Chatam Sofer to Bava Batra 12a, and Maharitz Chajes to Berachot 3a.)

At the same time, we are unmistakably abandoned, for the vistas open to a thoughtful sage are more limited than those to which a prophet can aspire. The Zohar (Mishpatim pg. 116b) observes that scholars are capable of philosophizing regarding the most abstruse matters, speculating upon even the Shechinah, while the prophet reaches a stage at which he falls upon his face and can see no more. Yet this is not a sign that the scholar is truly greater than the sage; the prophet must withdraw his gaze because he is exposed to fantastic wonders which the scholar will never come close to apprehending.

The reason for this partial abandonment may be seen in a note authored by Rabbi Chaim of Volozhin regarding his mentor, the Vilna Gaon, "The heavens wished to give him, without any work or exhaustion, celestial secrets via angelic messengers… He did not raise his eyes to this. It was close to him, and he distanced it. I heard from his mouth that angelic messengers often rose early to his door, desiring to convey to him secrets of Torah without any work, and he did not turn his ear to them at all." (Introduction to Safra d'Tzniuta)

The Vilna Gaon understood that we are not meant to be recipients of free gifts; that which comes to us without labour is, in the terminology of the Zohar, nahama d'kisufa, bread of shame. As Adam and Chavah were instructed to work in the Garden of Eden despite its Divine bounty, so we are meant to draw our insights from the strain of our minds, not from prophetic communication. [Perhaps this is why we tend to feel greater satisfaction with the fruits of our labour than with the gifts we receive from others, as noted in Bava Metzia 38a.]

Our ancestors, standing on the edge of the Jordan River, were nudged from the nest like a young bird pushed forth by her mother. Certainly, there was an element of abandonment, but this was also a grant of independence critical to achieving our purpose.

Expanding this idea further, we may say the same for the gift of Free Will which is mentioned several sentences subsequent in our parshah (Devarim 30:19). Certainly, our religious lives would be more productive were G-d to take charge, but we are meant to work for our greatness. And as with scholarship, the one who works for his personal purification is promised Divine aid. (Yoma 38a)

In both our studies and our general religious lives, may we merit to struggle and to be rewarded with Divine assistance, and to earn a ketivah vachatimah tovah.

The Vilna Gaon, the Maggid, and the Work Ethic of a Talmid Chacham

[Interesting: Shana Tova Parking Tickets at Life in Israel]

[Note: "Maggid" in the title of this post refers to an angel who comes to teach a person Torah. It does not refer to an itinerant preacher.]

A friend led me to the passage below today, and I knew instantly that I needed to translate this for others to read. There is much to learn here; it comes from Rabbi Chaim of Volozhin's introduction to the Vilna Gaon's Safra d'Tzniuta, available at hebrewbooks.org here. I have appended the Hebrew at the bottom, but there is more to see in the original.

He [the Gaon of Vilna] did not gain satisfaction other than from the work he did in wisdom and intellect and ability and after much strain, when Heaven had mercy upon him and wellsprings of wisdom were revealed to him, secrets of secrets and hidden things inside hidden things, this was for him a gift of Gd. Other than this, he did not want them, even though the heavens wished to give him, without any work or exhaustion, celestial secrets via angelic messengers, masters of secrets and officers of Torah. He did not raise his eyes to this. It was close to him, and he distanced it. I heard from his sacred mouth that angelic messengers often rose early to his door, desiring to convey to him secrets of Torah without any work, and he did not turn his ear to them at all.

One of the angelic messengers pressed him greatly, but he did not look upon the angel's great appearance. He answered and told him, "I do not want my grasp of Gd's torah to come via any intermediary at all; my eyes are raised only to Him. That which He wishes to reveal to me and give me as my portion in His Torah for the work I have done with all of my energy, He will give me wisdom, from His mouth comes intellect and comprehension, when He gives me a comprehending heart…

And he said that although our master Rabbi Yosef Karo had an angelic messenger, that was two centuries ago, when the generations were proper, and he lived upon the holy land. It is not thus now, when there are many who break the barriers, and especially outside of the land it is impossible to be at the height of holiness, without any inappropriate element mixed in. Especially those revelations which come without Torah, his spirit was impatient with them and they were not significant to him at all.

לא הראה את נפשו טוב רק בעמלו אשר עמל בחכמה ובדעת ובכשרון ואחר רב יגיעותיו וכאשר חסו עליו מן השמים ונתגלו לו מעיינות החכמה רד"ר וסתרין דסתרין זו היה אצלו מתת אלקים וזולת זה נפשו לא רצה בם אף כי רצו למסור לו מן השמים בלא שום עמל ויגיעת בשר רזין וסתרין עליוני עליונין ע״י מגידים מארי דרזין ושרי התורה לא נשא עיניו לזה עמו היתה וריחקה כי שמעתי מפיו הק' שפעמים רבות השכימו לפתחו כמה מגידים מן השמים בשאלתם ובקשתם שרוצים למסור לו רזין דאורייתא בלא שום עמל ולא הטה אזנו אליהם כלל

וא' מן המגידים הפציר בו מאד עכ"ז לא הביט אל מראהו הגדול וענה ואמר לו איני רוצה שתהיה השגתי בתורתו ית״ש ע"י שום אמצעי כלל וכלל רק עיני נשואות לו ית״ש מה שרוצה לגלות לי וליתן חלקי בתורתו ית"ש בעמלי אשר עמלתי בכל כחי הוא ית"ש יתן לי חכמה מפיו דעת ותבונה שיתן לי לב מבין
...
ואמר אף כי מרן הב"י היה לו מגיד היה זה לפני ב' מאות שנה שהיו הדורות כתקנן והיה שרוי על אדמת הקדש לא כן עתה שרבו המתפרצים ובפרט בחו"ל א"א כלל שיהיה כלו קדש קדשים בלי שום עירוב כלל. ובפרט הגילויים אשר בלא תורה נפשו בחלה בהם ולא היו נחשבים אצלו כלל וכלל.

Your money or your aliyah

I received this question recently:

Dear The Rebbetzin's Husband,

In the shul I attend, a man who receives an aliyah (is called up to the Torah) is handed a card listing various sums of money. Via a paper clip attached to the card, he is expected to inform the gabbai of the sum he is donating to the shul, in response to his aliyah. Lest one think this is on the honour system, the shul's bookkeeping office will send a note that week, reminding him of his pledge.

Here is my question: What do you do when the gabbai calls you for an aliyah unbidden? Try to decline, and the gabbai insists – and now you are required to make a donation, for an honour you never sought.

What do you do?

Signed,
Held Up in Shul

Dear Held Up,

I recognize the problem, certainly.

I believe strongly in shuls raising funds beyond dues; it's a necessity. In line with this, I understand and accept the practice of soliciting donations for aliyos; shuls need money to pay salaries, keep the lights on, and support programs. The reality of Jewish communal life is that people donate to chesed organizations and schools far more readily than they do to a shul, and so shuls need to fundraise in awkward ways.

On the other hand, it seems to me that gabbaim should recognize the problem here, and hand out cards only when the oleh (person ascending to the Torah) actually requests the aliyah, such as for a yahrtzeit.

I would recommend an off-line conversation with the gabbai, and if necessary the Rabbi and president, at a time other than the aliyah itself, to discuss the policy. I do find shul officials to be open to this sort of discussion, in general.

Best wishes for a כתיבה וחתימה טובה,
The Rebbetzin's Husband

PS You are not the only one – In one shul I visited I was once asked, last-minute, to fill in for a haftorah, and then handed a donation card for the honour of receiving maftir!

A new site to learn Jewish songs

Years ago, I looked for a website with the words and tunes for parts of davening, to provide guidance for parents who wanted to keep up with their children's day school curriculum. I found a Hebrew School which had parts of this available; I would post the link, but I have not been able to find it again since.

The other day, though, I received an email about a new site, which offers a service for davening as well as songs for Shabbos, and more. The site is Shir haLev. While there is much I would do differently on the site, and they definitely should post the words along with the tunes, this is a good start. I'd recommend checking it out.

Shofar Practice

[I wrote this five years ago, in a different venue, when I was still a synagogue rabbi. It's one of my favorite posts, so I decided to bring it over here. I edited mildly, to preserve anonymity of anyone mentioned in the original post.]

Rosh HaShanah is coming; I know, because Shofar Practice started today.

Shofar Practice - it's like MLB Spring Training without the steroids, NFL Mini-Camp without the salary holdouts, NBA pre-season without the high school kids who all think they're the next Jordan. When Shofar Practice starts, there is no drama; it's just you, and the horn.

("Just let it happen, be the horn. Be the horn, Rabbi. You're not being the horn, Rabbi."

"Well, it's kind of difficult with you talking like that."

And I must include the song here, as well.)

Batten down the hatches, Rosh HaShanah's here. It's been here, coming closer, for weeks now, but as of today it's really here.

I know it's here, because I had to pull out the shofar and practice for Elul this afternoon. You can pretend there are five weeks left in the Shiva d'Nechemta, but I know better. Rosh HaShanah is knocking at the door, and it isn't going to care whether I answer or not. It's going to huff and puff on the old shofar and blow my house in.

When I was eight or nine years old, I used to live in dread of Summer Camp; I vividly remember nights when I went to sleep hoping I would die before the summer, so I wouldn’t have to go to camp. My dread of Rosh HaShanah doesn’t move me quite that far - but perhaps only because I have my own children to think about now, and I would hate to do that to them.

How can a tokeia (shofar blower) concentrate on his own teshuvah while he blows the shofar? Obviously, they’re all much better at this than I am. I spend those moments worrying about the mechanics, about generating a clear sound, about not embarrassing myself. Which is why I blow only for Elul, not for Rosh haShanah.

Rosh HaShanah: The day when I have to find a way to motivate hundreds of people to take their judgment seriously.

Rosh HaShanah: The day when the fate of my community of so many physically needy, financially needy, emotionally needy, religiously needy, will be determined.

Rosh HaShanah: The day when I have to be judged, myself.

A lot of the trick is just in getting the Shofar seated properly. If it’s in wrong, all the blowing in the world won’t help. If it’s in right, the gentlest puff generates a smooth, powerful sound. There’s a nimshal (allegorical lesson) in there somewhere.

Soon I'll get the phone calls asking, "I'm five months pregnant, do I fast?" "I'm nursing, do I fast?" "What about my asthma medication?" "Heart medication?" "Insulin?" "Prozac?" I'm glad they ask, and I'm grateful to those who actually ask before the morning of Erev Yom Kippur, but each question puts my nerves a little further on edge, makes me a little more tense.

I put the Shofar to my lips and blow the first blast, and it's tentative because my lips vibrate and they kind of jump back, startled, from the weird feeling of these vibrations. I get nervous, against my better judgment; will I be able to blow well, or will I have trouble?

I spoke to our Lulav and Esrog vendor last week, to lock in prices. We’ve set the shul schedule through Yom Kippur; tomorrow, I’ll work on Succos.

I want to blow Shofar with the tallis over my head, befitting the solemnity of the moment, but my nerves get in the way.

Rosh HaShanah is coming. I am so not ready.

The other day, someone remarked to me that Elul is coming early this year. I think he must have been joking; Elul comes early every year.

Curmudgeon

The other day, I heard a story about a boss whose employee approached him for encouragement. The employee was working on a project, and he asked the boss how he thought it was going.

The boss replied with something along the lines of, "I am not your mother. When you finish the project, we'll see how you did."

All of the people who were with me laughed at the story, recognizing the employer's approach as unhelpful. But I didn't.

I have learned a lot about management in the past few years of heading the beit midrash here in Toronto. Helping avreichim learn, teach and grow is quite different from leading a congregation, and it's been quite the learning curve for me. Among the lessons has definitely been that relationships cannot be taken for granted; praise must be expressed explicitly, criticism must be couched properly, and so on. And yet…

… I really like that "I am not your mother" line. It's military, hard-nosed. It's macho. Tommy Lee Jones. Mark Messier.

Listen to this piece from Sports Illustrated about Mark Messier, the Oiler-turned-Ranger:
There is an oft-told story—one that might even be true—that in 1987 Messier grabbed Kent Nilsson, a flashy but fainthearted Oilers forward, and told him that if he didn't play harder, he would have to kill him… Another former Oiler, who won't confirm the Nilsson story but doesn't exactly deny it, either, says, "You didn't get this from me, but I heard he also threatened [former Rangers coach] Mike Keenan."

True, the "I am not your mother" approach will likely prove unproductive; why wait for your employee to come back to you with inappropriate work, only to criticize him then? And it's not terribly Jewish; Moshe's model of leadership is כאשר ישא האומן את היונק, the nurse holding a baby. It's the shepherd tailoring his style for every sheep, per Shemot Rabbah.

But something in the curmudgeon really appeals to me. Maybe it's my New York upbringing.

"G-d, please bring back my son"

[Note: My shiur on Rav Kook's "HaShofar", a poem which we discussed last week, is now on-line here.]

Rabbi Moshe Alshich's son left Judaism; the circumstances are not recorded, although someone has written on the Alshich's Wikipedia page that he was "taken" and he became Muslim. The Alshich asked the Ari z"l for help, and the Ari gave him a kabbalistic prayer to recite, for Gd to help his son return. As the story is told by the Ari z"l's main student, Rav Chaim Vital, the son returned to Judaism.

Of course, the idea of praying for others' repentance is basic to Judaism; we do it all the time, such as in the blessing in the amidah which asks Gd to bring us back in complete repentance. And yet, the idea of praying for an individual highlights what we are really doing: We are asking Gd to hijack people's hearts, to change their minds. [This is more troubling than asking Gd to hijack my own mind, in which case it is not truly an act of hijacking at all.]

This raises philosophical questions:
• What happened to Free Will?
• What happened to the talmudic dictum, "All is in the hands of Heaven, other than awe of Heaven"?
• Of what value is repentance which is not only catalyzed by, but actually performed by, Divine intervention?
• And a child of the modern age may well be offended: Who are you to judge others, and pray to Gd that they be reformed?

I intend to speak about this in a pre-Selichos shiur on the first night of Selichos; for now, the prayer itself appears below, as it appears in three editions with significant variations.


1. R' Chaim Vital, 16th century Tzefat, Shaar Ruach haKodesh, pg. 24b

יחוד א' להחזיר את הרשע בתשובה והוא להר״מ אלשיך זלה״ה על אודות בנו שנשתמד ולמד לו מורי זלה"ה שיכוין ליחוד הזה להשיבו בתשובה והועיל לו ושב לדת ישראל: כבר ידעת כי בברכת השיבנו אבינו לתורתך שבתפילת י״ח היא בבינה הנק׳ תשובה ולכן בהגיעך בברכה זו בתפלתך תאמר תפלה זו קודם החתימה: יהי רצון מלפניך ד' אלקינו ואלקי אבותינו שתחתור חתירה מתחת כסא כבודך ותקבל בתשובה את פב״פ כי ימינך פשוטה לקבל שבים בא״י הרוצה בתשובה

The first yichud is to return a wicked person in repentance. This was for Rav Moshe Alshich, regarding his son who had assimilated, and my master taught him to contemplate this yichud to return him in repentance. It was effective for him, and he returned to the religion of Israel.
You know that the blessing of "Return us, our Father, to Your Torah" in shemoneh esreih is in the emanation of Understanding, which is called Return, and so when you reach this blessing in your prayer, recite this prayer before the end: "May it be Your will, HaShem, our Gd and Gd of our ancestors, that You tunnel beneath Your throne of honour and receive the repentance of so-and-so, for Your right hand is extended to receive those who return. Blessed are You, Gd, who desires repentance."

2. R' Zvi Hirsh Kaidanover, 18th century Vilna, Kav haYashar 5

וזה יאות לכל בר ישראל להיות זוכה ומזכה לאחרים, ומכל שכן שצריך אדם להתפלל על רשעי הדור שיחזרו בתשובה, כדאיתא בגמרא בברכות בברוריה דביתהו דרבי מאיר שאמרה ״יתמו חטאים״ כתיב, ולא ׳חוטאים׳. על כן אסדר אני לפניך לכל איש ואשה לומר יהי רצון זה בברכת ״השיבנו אבינו לתורתך, וקרבנו מלכנו לעבודתך״, ויאמר: ״יהי רצון מלפניך ד׳ אלקינו ואלקי אבותינו שתחתור חתירה מתחת כסא כבודך לתשובת פלוני בן פלונית וכל העוברים על מצותיך, יהופך לבבם לעשות רצונך בלבב שלם, כי ימינך פשוטה לקבל שבים, והחזירנו בתשובה שלימה לפניך, בא״י הרוצה בתשובה״

This is good for every Jew, to earn merit and provide merit for others, and certainly one must pray for the wicked of the generation to repent, as is seen (Berachot 10a) that Beruriah, wife of R' Meir, said, "It is written, 'May sins end,' not 'May sinners end.'" Therefore, I will arrange for each man and woman to say this prayer in the blessing of, "Return us, our Father, to Your Torah, and bring us close, our King, to Your service."
He should say: May it be Your will, HaShem, our Gd and Gd of our ancestors, that You tunnel beneath Your throne of honour for the repentance of so-and-so and all who violate Your command. May their heart be reversed to perform Your will wholeheartedly, for Your right hand is extended to receive those who return. And return us with complete repentance before You. Blessed are You, Gd, who desires repentance.

3. R' Chaim Dovid Amar, 18th century Morocco, Tefillah l'Dovid, Hashiveinu #212, pg. 52a

כתב האר״י (שער היחודים דכ״ג ע״ג) מי שיש לו בן או אח או קרוב אחר ח״ו שהטה מדרך טובה לדרך רעה או שהלך לתרבות דעה, יתפלל בתפילת י״ח בברכה זו זה הנוסח, ואז מובטח שיהפוך לבו לטובה בעזה״י. וצריך להתפלל עכ״פ שלושים יום ערב ובקר וצהרים, ובפרט בימי אלול שאז הוא עת רצון, ומכ״ש על עצמו שצריך שיתפלל שיהפוך לבו לטובה. וז״ל: השיבנו אבינו לתורתך וקרבנו מלכנו לעבודתך והחזירנו בתשובה שלמה לפניך. יהי רצון מלפניך ד' אלקינו ואלקי אבותינו שתחתור חתירה מתחת כסא כבודך להחזיר בתשובה שלמה כל פושעי ישראל ובכללם תחזירני אני פב״פ ופב״פ בתשובה שלמה לפניך ד', כי ימינך ד' פשוטה לקבל שבים. ברוך אתה ד' הרוצה בתשובה.

The Ari wrote: "One who has a son or brother or other relative who has strayed from the good path to the bad or who is engaged in bad behaviour, Gd forbid, should pray this text in this blessing in shemoneh esreih. He can be certain that this will turn his heart for the good, with Gd's help. He must pray at least thirty days, evening and morning and afternoon, and especially during Elul, the time of desire. He certainly should pray thus for himself, that Gd turn his heart to the good.
This is the text: Return us, our Father, to Your Torah, and bring us close, our King, to Your service. And return us with complete repentance before You. May it be Your will, HaShem, our Gd and Gd of our ancestors, that You tunnel beneath Your throne of honour to bring back in complete repentance all of the sinners of Israel. Among them, return me, and so-and-so, with complete repentance before You, for Your right hand, Gd, is extended to receive those who return. Blessed are You, Gd, who desires repentance.

Michael Jordan and K'naan on Repentance

[Looks like Mashiach will have wireless - Israeli biblical park outfits donkeys with wireless routers]

"Failing is just an excuse for me to get better." – K'naan

"I've failed over and over and over again in my life and that is why I succeed." – Michael Jordan

In my mind, these quotes stand apart from traditional Jewish approaches to repentance because they convey the following rather arrogant messages:

1. I need only work harder in order to get where I need to go.
Failure is not about moral weakness or a demonstration of a flawed character requiring introspection and reconstruction of the self, but only a practical, technical error or non-achievement of a goal.

2. I need not appeal to a higher authority, or another party at all, for aid. It's all in my hands.
Contrast this with the classic Jewish idea of appealing to Gd for aid against the inclination toward sin, and the need for the assistance of mentors and peers in creating the right environment and incentives for growth.

3. I have already perfected myself after past failures, and can reflect on my growth from the perspective of success.
What Torah-based writer will refer to himself as having righted his wrongs and succeeded? What Jewish Jordan would ever present himself as a finished product?

And yet, I love these lines; they sit in a file that is always open on my computer, and they inspire me throughout the month of Elul. I love that arrogance, the assertion that it really is in my hands.

It's almost like Elazar ben Durdaya's recognition regarding his own repentance (Avodah Zarah 17a), אין הדבר תלוי אלא בי, "It depends only upon me," but stronger.

It ain't Rav Kook, but it works for me.

Synagogue Yahrtzeit Boards

[Preface: Historically, Jews memorialized their loved ones by funding lamps for the synagogue or study hall on their relatives' yahrtzeits (the anniversaries of their passing). They also dedicated items in their memory. Over time, this morphed into a practice of making a donation to the synagogue, and placing a nameplate plaque on a special "Memorial Board" or "Yahrtzeit Board" in the synagogue. Light bulbs are lit beside these plaques on the day of the person's yahrtzeit and on days when the memorial Yizkor prayer is recited.]

I grew up in a shul which had the standard, twentieth century, heavy metal yahrtzeit board, with heavy plaques attached. The plaques were flanked by sockets for small incandescent light bulbs, which flickered constantly. You can see models here.

At some point, though, my shul (Young Israel of Oceanside) made the leap to a new form of board: Custom-made wood boards, finished to match the shul's décor, on which the plaques were attached. Instead of sockets for individual incandescent bulbs, one vertical flourescent bulb lined each column, behind the board, and each plate was flanked by holes which could be sealed (ie off) or left open (ie on).

The leap from the first model to the second makes a lot of sense, solving many problems:
1. The old metal boards are incredibly heavy, requiring strong walls and serious anchoring;
2. The bulbs on the old boards flickered because their contacts were supposed to hit a metal plate which conducted electricity behind the boards. Over the years of having the bulbs screwed in or unscrewed for yahrtzeits or yizkor or just by children who played with them, the contacts eroded, so that they didn't reach the metal plate well;
3. The old boards are incredibly expensive;
4. The old boards are very dated, in their appearance.

Why don't all shuls switch to similar newer, cheaper, more effective memorial boards? Largely because they already have multiple old boards. Members don't want the new boards to look different. Members don't want the new ones to look less expensive. Members don't want to have change, in general.

In truth, my shul in Allentown went even further. When it came time to add a board, we revamped the system altogether. At the impetus of a particular member who took this on as a personal project for the shul, we set up a digital picture frame showing a digital nameplate plaque. On a given day, the picture frame scrolls through all of the plaques for the day's yahrtzeits. On a yizkor day, the frame scrolls through all of the plaques.

Aside from solving the problem of running out of space, anchoring new boards, affording new boards and so on, this also made my job easier. Standard boards require that someone go through them every few days, turning bulbs on or uncovering spots for upcoming yahrtzeits and turning the bulbs off or covering up spots for yahrtzeits which have passed. Now, it's all automated, using databases to regulate what will be displayed, and when. The only regular adjustment is the display's on/off time, to make sure it is operational when people come for minyan in the evenings.

I admit that I was disturbed, at first, by the possibility that people who had memorialized their loved ones in the old system might not see this new method of display as adequate; after all, we had contracted to light bulbs next to their plaques, not to use this newfangled system. But people were very comfortable with it, and so we went with it.

This is what a digital plaque looks like:



Of course, the new system did raise a different question – If we can have a digital screen in operation on Shabbos and Yom Tov, what about having a running ticker with the sports scores…

Listening

Last week, I was speaking with an elderly friend and I mentioned a pursuit she "used to" engage in. Her response was morose, along the lines of, "Sure, I used to. There are many things I used to do. I have to get used to 'used to'."

I felt terrible, of course; remembering what you can no longer do is a bitter experience, particularly as the "used to"s accumulate. I wanted to point out new activities she could become "used to" - authors she could read, musicians she could listen to, places she could go walking, and so on - but I was afraid of being trite. She knows perfectly well that there are new things she could do. And suggesting these new "used to"s could sound like naively and insensitively suggesting that these new pursuits could offset her losses. So I said nothing, basically, and just listened.

Listening was my go-to option when I was in the pulpit. I was younger than most of my congregants, and far less experienced in life, and so I wasn't confident in offering ideas. I buried people 3-4 times my age. I met with people about their issues in raising teenagers, before I had children of my own. Drugs and alcohol, marital issues, and so on - I found listening far more useful than offering advice that had the potential to be way off.

Listening has many merits of its own: It allows people comfortable space to talk through their issues, it validates the speaker, it educates the listener. Mishlei 12:25 says, "Worry in the heart lowers it (ישחנה)," and in a play on words we read the clause, "One who has worry in the heart should speak of it (ישיחנה)," because of these benefits. But on its most basic level, listening is useful because it's "first, do no harm" safe.

I wish I could have said something to help my "used to" friend feel better, but I guess I'm okay settling for safe.

The Shofar of Rav Kook

[Below, Rav Kook speaks of sleeping in galus. On that theme, see this at Life in Israel, on kosher hot dogs at Seven Eleven in Monsey. The location "makes sense", the reporter says, for "Kosher Heaven". Oy.]

For me, Elul is timed fortuitously. My last Shabbos in the pulpit was Parshas Eikev, and every year, at this time, I feel the pain that came with leaving it. Three years later, I understand the benefits I now have and I am at peace with the move, but I still miss it... until, not long after Parshas Eikev, along comes Elul, and I remember what Elul meant in the rabbinate. And that makes the decision to leave it much easier.

In any case: A week from Monday night, I will present a "yahrtzeit shiur" in memory of Rav Kook, Gd-willing. [Yes, the yahrtzeit is this Monday night, the third of Elul, but the scheduling did not work out.] I'll be looking at a poem which has obvious Elul resonance, titled "Shofar". It was written in 1912/1913, soon after he made aliyah.

In the poem, he puts the return to Israel in terms associated with the ultimate Resurrection of the Dead, and he calls upon the reader to be moved by the visible effects of our exile and catalyze this redemption.

The poem is not particularly "poetic" in the original Hebrew; there is a rhyme, but only a simple meter with abbreviated lines and spare imagery. I think the focus was more about the message than the aesthetics. (Although with Rav Kook's writing, the aesthetics are never far behind.)

Here is the translation I have drafted, followed by the Hebrew. Footnotes to the English refer to the pesukim I believe were his sources for certain phrases:

Ascend to the top of the mountain
and take up the great shofar,¹
and lift your eyes and see
the suffering of the lowly nation.

And blow the great shofar,
tekiah, teruah, shevarim,
and pound with your foot,²
and so the graves will quake.

And these sounds will ascend through passages,³
to the very roots of the souls,
and those who roll will be set into motion
to build up the ruins.

And those who sleep will be roused,
the descendants of the lions,
who play in streams,
and wander in sprinklings.⁴

And those who sleep will awake
from the slumber of the exile,
and those who stray will be roused,
those of uncircumcised ear.⁵

And they will rise and ascend to the land
in which their forebears did reign,
and they will put an end, an abrupt halt,
to the exile in which they had been dispersed.

אֶל ראשׁ הָהָר עַלֵה
וְֹשוֹפָר גָדוֹל קַח
וְשָׂא עֵינֶיךָ וּרְאֵה
עֶנוּת הָעָם הַדָךְ

ובַֹשוֹפָר הַגָדוֹל תְּקַע
תְּקִיעָה תְּרוּעָה וּשְׁבָרִים
וּבְרַגְלְךָ רְקַע
וְיִרְעַֹשוּ הַקְבָרִים

וְהַקוֹלוֹת יַעַלוּ בְּלוּלִים
עַד שָׁרְֹשֵי הַנְֹשָמוֹת
וְיִתְגַלְגְלוּ הַגִילְגוּלִים
לִבְנוֹת אֶת הַֹשְמָמוֹת

וְיִתְעוֹרְרוּ הַנִרְדָמִים
נִינֵי הָאַרָיוֹת
הַמְשַׂחַקִים בִּזְרָמִים
וְֹשוֹגִים בַּהַזָיוֹת

וְיָקִיצוּ הַיְֹשֵנִים
בְּתַרְדֵמַת הַגוֹלָה
וְיֵעוֹרוּ הַזוֹנִים
בַּעַלֵי הָאוֹזֶן הָעַרֵלָה

וְיָקוּמוּ וְיַעַלוּ לָאָרֶץ
שֶׁהוֹרִים בְּקִרְבָּה מָלָכוּ
וְיָשִׂימוּ קֵץ וְקֶרֶץ
לַגָלוּת שֶׁבָּה הוּדָחוּ

[1] This is likely Yeshayah 18:3, but note Shoftim 3:27.
[2] Yechezkel 6:11
[3] Melachim I 6:8
[4] This is an important verse; he uses Hebrew terms which can refer to streams and sprinklings, but can also refer to ideological streams and errors. Rav Kook is referring to Jews who have naively strayed.
[5] Yirmiyah 6:10

Interview with Rav Herschel Schachter on School Davening

For me, one of the toughest arenas in Jewish education is Tefillah (prayer) - how to make it appropriately meaningful for children at different ages, and how to train children to further evolve in it as they grow older.

The problem is not necessarily with the content of prayer, but with the mechanics and dynamics of running organized prayer for a group, as happens in a school setting:
* The need to pace it in a way that won't bore some or lose others;
* The need to work with individuals within a group;
* The need for staff to have their own tefillah and to model proper tefillah while still monitoring the room;
* The rules governing when one may/may not interrupt with explanations and announcements;
and so on.

This morning I came across a useful forty-minute interview of Rav Herschel Schachter, by my friend Rabbi Kenny Schiowitz, discussing these issues. Questions include:
* Is it better for teachers to daven with the group, or to daven beforehand?
* May we abridge parts of davening for educational reasons, or does that send the kids the wrong message?
* May a student be "kicked out" of minyan for discipline?

Here is the video:


You can see Rabbi Schiowitz's page here.

You can't make this stuff up

Courtesy of Yahoo News-

Hungary far-right leader discovers Jewish roots

As a rising star in Hungary's far-right Jobbik Party, Csanad Szegedi was notorious for his incendiary comments on Jews: He accused them of "buying up" the country, railed about the "Jewishness" of the political elite and claimed Jews were desecrating national symbols.

Then came a revelation that knocked him off his perch as ultra-nationalist standard-bearer: Szegedi himself is a Jew.

Following weeks of Internet rumors, Szegedi acknowledged in June that his grandparents on his mother's side were Jews — making him one too under Jewish law, even though he doesn't practice the faith. His grandmother was an Auschwitz survivor and his grandfather a veteran of forced labor camps.

Since then, the 30-year-old has become a pariah in Jobbik and his political career is on the brink of collapse. He declined to be interviewed for this story.
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Szegedi came to prominence in 2007 as a founding member of the Hungarian Guard, a group whose black uniforms and striped flags recalled the Arrow Cross, a pro-Nazi party which briefly governed Hungary at the end of World War II and killed thousands of Jews. In all, 550,000 Hungarian Jews were killed during the Holocaust, most of them after being sent in trains to death camps like Auschwitz. The Hungarian Guard was banned by the courts in 2009.

By then, Szegedi had already joined the Jobbik Party, which was launched in 2003 to become the country's biggest far-right political force. He soon became one of its most vocal and visible members, and a pillar of the party leadership. Since 2009, he has served in the European Parliament in Brussels as one of the party's three EU lawmakers, a position he says he wants to keep.

The fallout of Szegedi's ancestry saga has extended to his business interests. Jobbik executive director Gabor Szabo is pulling out of an Internet site selling nationalist Hungarian merchandise that he owns with Szegedi. Szabo said his sister has resigned as Szegedi's personal assistant.

I have nothing to add. File this under #neonazifail...

The Walls have eyes

In a mishnah (Kelim 17), R' Yochanan ben Zakkai described people's deceptive practices, and he said, "Woe is me if I say it; Woe is me if I don't say it!"

As expanded in a braisa (Bava Batra 89b), R' Yochanan ben Zakkai was worried that teaching these methods would promote deceit, and that not teaching them would encourage people to sin, believing they could get away with it.

I feel the same way about this post.

I rarely check my Facebook wall, but occasionally I do read Friend updates on it. Updates aren't only the messages you choose to send; if you log into a website using your Facebook account, that site can post updates on your friends' walls, telling them (and anyone who looks at their walls) what you have been doing on that site. So if you log into a video site with your Facebook account, for example, my wall might tell me what you have been watching.

This post is sparked by a note which has appeared at least twice on my Wall in recent days, something along the lines of: "Your friend Ploni checked out this picture on Mobli". The picture's title says it is an inappropriate photo taken by "Beis Yakkov" girls. [Don't bother looking at my Wall to find out who looked, or to find the picture – the posts have been banished.] Looking at a picture with that description would be inconsistent with the public identities displayed by either Ploni.

There are many reasons why someone might have loaded the picture, ranging from prurience to curiosity to an unintended set of clicks. I have also ended up in places I didn't belong at various times – see my post on Internet filters for more on that – and for all I know, those are noted on others' Facebook walls. But not every click is innocent, and it might be good for people to realize that their friends, and their friends' friends, are watching.

So I am posting this to tell those who might be lured in against their better judgment: Know that sites do publicize your surfing habits.

Woe is me if I say it, lest that encourage people to find underground ways and escape detection.
Woe is me if I don't say it, lest people continue to be weak, confident that no one knows what they are doing…