by Julie

‘Hey Jude’ – but not the Beatles way

Thank you can be such a difficult word to say. Benjamin Disraeli is reported to have said: “I feel a very unusual sensation, if it is not indigestion, I think it must be gratitude”. But as a nation, we are actually known as ‘thanks’. The name Jew, from the original Yehudah, means thank you. When he was born, Leah named her fourth son Yehudah saying, “this time I will thank (odeh) Hashem”. For the first 800 plus years of our existence, during the time of the Kings and the first Temple, we were known as Israelites, meaning ‘prince of Hashem’. Then from the story of Purim onwards, during our most bitter exiles until today, we are known as Yehudim, for it is specifically when things go wrong that we need to remember to still say thank you.

 

Yehudah also means to acknowledge, and in this week’s Sedra of Vayechi, Yaackov tells Yehudah that his brothers will acknowledge him. It makes sense that the other brothers would acknowledge the son whose name means thanks and acknowledgement, but why did Leah wait until her fourth son was born to thank Hashem? Surely the birth of Reuven, Shimon and Levi were also reasons to thank Hashem.

 

The answer is the reason why thank you may be the hardest word to say: it requires a specific and detailed process. First we have Reuven from the word Reuh, to see. Then comes Shimon from the word Shemah, to listen. Finally comes Levi, from the word Yilaveh, to connect.

 

When Yaackov blesses Yehudah that his brothers would acknowledge him, he was teaching a lesson that had to last not just for that generation or during the secure and sanctified era of the Kings and the Bet Hamikdash, but also throughout the long and bitter exile.  When things are going well it is easy to say thank you; it costs nothing and we are feeling good anyway. The difficulty is when the chips are down, when we are struggling and along comes a benefactor, a protector, someone who helps us. Their assistance is much more vital, so our thanks means more, it costs more, it reveals our dependency on their beneficence and therefore it is harder to say properly.

 

Leah with the intuition of a Yiddishe Mama understood this. She was the ‘accidental bride’. Her sister Rachel was the beloved one and Yaackov’s intended wife. Leah knew that she wasn’t meant to be married to Yaackov, never mind bear his children, the future Tribes of Israel. So when her first son was born, she didn’t just spit out a thanks, she stopped to look. She looked to see what she had been blessed with. She made eye contact with her benefactor. Then again with her second blessing, she still did not blurt a thanks, but she stopped to listen. She needed to hear and internalise the magnitude of her bounty. Similarly with blessing number three, she declared a connection with the source of her good fortune.

 

It was only after seeing, stopping to actually look at her blessing; listening and internalising that blessing and then discovering her connection to it could she truly say thank you and call her fourth son Yehudah.

On his death-bed, shortly before the Egyptian exile was about to begin, Yaackov reinforces that process. He teaches his sons that the reason thank you is the hardest word to say is because it’s not just a word; it is a full journey. Especially when it is said from a position of weakness. We must see and hear the blessings for what they are, develop a connection to our benefactor through the blessing, and then at that point we can truly say thank you. The real challenge is because thank you is such an easy ‘word’ to say, but such a hard emotion to truly convey.

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 by Dovid Lewis

The Middle East Cycle of Life

The cycle of life. Those four simple words soothe us with their implication that there aren’t really any endings, happy or otherwise. Things keep going on, they overlap and blur; your story is part of your sister’s story, and her story is part of many others. And there is truly no telling where any of them may lead, or indeed where they began.

 

Earlier this week, Elijah the Prophet was greeted by a tiny baby, who informed him that there would be no blood spilled at his Brit Milah. As he was laid to rest, a mere 72 hours after being born by an emergency C-section, his grandfather named him Amihad Yisroel – “my people Israel will live forever”. His parents couldn’t be at his funeral as they were still in a critical condition in hospital after being shot in cold blood whilst waiting for the bus home from a Chanukah party. Amihad Yisroel was to be his grandparent’s first grandchild; never could they have imagined what their first job as grandparents would be. His paternal grandfather, Rabbi Raphael Ish-Ran, addressed his grandson in his eulogy and said: “don’t be confused, we are crying but we are strong”. And today his maternal grandfather, Chaim Silberstein, relayed the promise that his daughter made as she briefly held her son: “I will bring many more babies into the world, with God’s help, and the people of Israel shall live”. He further declared: “the grandson we did not have the privilege of raising; we felt the completion of a cycle, that we could bring him to eternal rest on the Mount of Olives in Jerusalem”.

 

Is it just a coping mechanism? Are these words anything more than a soothing balm for a crushed and torn heart? Or is it something that has been part of our Judaism, our heritage and psyche for millennia?

 

At the critical moment in this week’s Sedra, Yosef has revealed himself to his brothers and told them that he is their brother. He isn’t a despotic Egyptian ruler, intent on destroying their family, but is in fact their long lost brother: the brother they had thrown into an empty pit to die, their brother whom they had sold to a band of marauding Ishmaelites, the brother over whom they had watched their father mourn for the last 22 years!

 

Now here he is, second only to Pharaoh – the most powerful man in their known world. Their little brother now viceroy of Egypt. The left him to die and now he is to be their salvation during the famine gripping the land. They sold him to strangers and now he holds their fate in his hands.

 

The conflicting emotions spinning through their minds.

 

Then Joseph invites them to settle in Egypt. To bring back their father as well as the rest of their families and to live under his protection. Joseph says that he will provide for them, וכלכלתי, which Rabbi Shimshon Raphael Hirsch points out is a derivative of גלגל, to roll. Joseph was, in essence, telling his brothers that the cycle of life includes our feelings and emotions towards each other. Whereas they had previously plotted to kill him and had indeed sentenced him to death, he now was their lifeline! Understandably he had credited Hashem’s Hand in this twisting plot, but now he places himself front and centre in the next stage of their epic story.

 

Declaring that something is part of the cycle of life without recognizing our individual part in that story (it’s past, present and future storyline) is indeed simply an empty platitude. The Jewish view of the cycle of life is about playing our part within that cycle, be it with our actions or attitudes.

 

Rabbi Chiyya advised his wife, “when a poor man comes to the door, be quick to give him some food so that the same may be done to our children.” She exclaimed, “you are cursing our children with the suggestion that they may become beggars”. Her husband replied, “there is a wheel which revolves in this world…” Babylonian Talmud Shabbat 151b

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 by Dovid Lewis

Can Commerce Trump Torah?

Does the Divine Presence dwell more in the House of Torah or House of Commerce? This seems like one of those trick questions, for surely it must favour the House of Torah! Yet the fact that we are asking the question implies that in fact, the opposite is true, and we can prove it from this week’s Sedrah.

 

A major section of Vayeitzeh details the birth of 11 of Yaackov’s sons and his daughter Dinah. Each time a child is born, its mother decides on a name that reflects their current desire and captures the mood of the moment. For example, when Leah’s first child is born, she calls him Reuven. This is a composite of Re’uh-Ben, meaning ‘see, a son’. Leah was delighted that she had now given birth and hoped that it would elevate her in Yaackov’s eyes after he was tricked into marrying her instead of Rochel. Similarly, when Rochel’s maidservant Bilhah has her first child, Rochel names his Dan, representing judgement. She felt that her previous judgement which had caused her to be barren had been lifted and she now had a new judgement; one that she could celebrate.

 

By the birth of the tenth child, a sixth one for Leah, she calls him Zevulun. This alludes to the word ‘zevul’, meaning abode or dwelling place. Rashi explains that Leah was now convinced that Yaackov would make her tent his main dwelling place for she had now given birth to six sons, equal to all his other three wives combined.

 

The problem though is that Zevulun is the polar opposite of Yaackov. Both Yaackov and Moshe bless Zevulun for his entrepreneurial attitude. He made a pact with his brother Yissachar, whereby Zevulun would work and pay Yissachar to learn and in return he would get half the reward of the Torah study. Zevulun, in essence, was the architype of the person who paid someone else to learn for him, whereas Yaackov was the epitome of one who never strayed from the Tent of Torah. How could Leah get it so wrong? How could she think that specifically the son who would work and not prioritise his learning, would be the child who would inextricably tie her to Yaackov who diligently prioritised his learning over work?

 

Rabbi Schneur Zalman of Liadi, the founder of Chabad Chassidus explains that in truth we can only make the Divine Presence a permanent and real part of this physical world when we attempt to attain this consciousness whilst being engaged in the pragmatic lifestyle of Zevulun. If we remain aloof from the mundane world, if we lock ourselves exclusively in the Tent of Torah, then the spiritual strength and resilience of our souls remain untested.

 

If however we take the Zevulun approach and make the effort to set aside time for the study of Torah, then the true ability inherent in our soul, the power to assert itself even outside the natural environment is revealed. And that is how we create a permanent home, a true dwelling place for the Divine in this world. For it must be pointed out that Zevulun did not excuse himself from learning, he did not buy his freedom, he put his time and effort into learning and becoming a better person. But he knew that he needed more, he knew that he had to infuse the bulk of his day, his working hours, with Torah and Judaism as well. That is why he made his pact with Yissachar.

 

Our challenge is to emulate Zevulun. To set aside time for learning Torah and improving our Jewish character, but we must also bring that into our workplace. When we work just to earn money then there is no sanctity in it; we are simply in a rat race. If however, we are able to infuse our workplace with sanctity by partnering with those who are able to dedicate more of their time, then not only do we elevate our work, we actually create a true dwelling place for the Divine in this world.

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 by Dovid Lewis

Isaac’s Innovative Imitation – Toledos 5779

As a Prophet, he doesn’t seem to converse with G-d much. In fact there are only two recorded dialogues between Isaac and the Almighty, both of which are actually just reassurances that G-d will protect Isaac in the same manner that He protected his father Abraham. What then do we, his descendants, learn from Isaac the second of the three Jewish Patriarchs?

 

I would like to suggest that it is from a seemingly mundane and unspiritual storyline in this week’s Torah portion of Toledos. In a short episode of just ten verses (26:13-22), we read of Isaac’s troubles with his wealth. Living in the deserts of southern Israel water was a valuable commodity, so Isaac re-digs the wells originally dug by his father Abraham. This simple exercise though caused him untold headaches, for the neighbouring Philistines would constantly refill them again. Determined to find water he leaves the area and digs fresh wells, but here too he is troubled, for roving shepherds claim the first two wells as their own and it is only on the third time that he finally is able to take ownership of his own water supply.

 

As with everything in the Bible, these are not just historical stories, but are guiding stars for the future generations.

 

Abraham, the first to publicly recognise G-d, the father of the Jewish Nation, had to break virgin ground. He had the difficult task of forging new paths and facing the unknown without the safety net of experience and past protocol to rely on. But with that risk of the frontier came the exhilaration of discovery. Isaac his son, may not have had the same risk but neither did he have the adrenalin rush of innovation.

 

Our first lesson from this episode is the difficulties one will face if we simply retrace our predecessor’s footsteps.  The philistines in our lives (and we all have them) will smother our search for living waters with dull earth. Rabbi Adin Steinsaltz points out that the Biblical word used for their treachery is a derivative of stam, whose equivalent in modern Hebrew is a dismissive shrug of the shoulders. The easiest way to quench someone else’s fire is to dismiss it out of hand, and if we are already lacking the cliff-edge excitement of being the innovator then what hope do we have? Isaac tries this a few times, but with the constant disdain of the Philistines blocking his quest for water he realises he has to move on and break new ground. He is not looking for something new, the traditions of his father and the lessons taught by him are still his goal, Isaac just needs to discover his own path to appreciate the truths and discoveries of his father.

 

Yet here too, Isaac faces difficulties and the Bible once again teaches us a valuable lesson.

 

For even when we realise that we need to find our own individual path on our ancestors’ map, there is no guarantee. There will always be the roving shepherd who claims that your discovery is in fact theirs. You have done nothing new and cannot take ownership of your newfound well of fresh water. Isaac tries not once, not twice, but three times. The 13thcentury Spanish Rabbi, Nachmanides explains that Isaac’s three attempts refer to the Three Temples of Jerusalem. The first two were new and innovative breaking new ground, first by King David and then by the returnees of the Babylonian Exile, but they were ultimately destroyed (first by the Babylonians in 586 BCE and then the Romans in 70 CE). Our job though is to continue searching, to persevere and dig again for the life-giving waters of our Religion. To discover our generation’s frontier within the path first walked by our ancestors.

 

This comes with the promise of that third well dug by Isaac. The end of his long and arduous journey was rewarded by an uncontested and ever-flowing well of fresh water. For us that is the promise of the Third Temple in Jerusalem. A promise of peace for all mankind, with no dismissive shrugs of a philistine nor the quarrels of ownership.

 

Theodore Roosevelt probably summed this all up best: “Nothing in the world is worth having or worth doing unless it means effort, pain, difficulty… I have never in my life envied a human being who led an easy life. I have envied a great many people who led difficult lives and led them well.”

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 by Dovid Lewis

TNT Heal v. Heel Eikev 5777

TNT

Heal v. Heel

Eikev 5777

Say TNT and most people will think of explosives; discovered back in 1863, it has been the main component of artillery since the word wars. Now however, TNT stands for something totally different; tissue nano-transfection. This is a process whereby scientists can transmogrify skin cells; change them and adapt them to grow into other cells. It sounds like science fiction and the stuff of Marvel comics, but the scientists write new instructions which are encoded in DNA and loaded on to a chip applied to a patient’s skin. This chip uses a small electric current to open channels in the cell’s surface, so that the code can tap into the DNA of the patient and reprogram it into a pluripotent state so that it can then heal any area of the body. It is currently only in use in animals, but its possibilities to save people’s lives is beyond imagine – and beyond the scope of this essay!

 

However it did help me answer a question on the name and opening verse of this week’s Sedra. The first time we encounter the word Eikev is in the Garden of Eden after the Sin; one aspect of the punishment is that mankind would crush the snake’s head and the snake would bite our eikev – heel.  The second time is after the Binding of Isaac when Avraham is praised, eikev – because he listened to Hashem.

 

Eikev can thus be translated either as “because” or as a “heel”. Most famously Yaackov was named so because he was holding the heel of his twin brother at birth. Eisav also uses a derivative of his name, ya’akveini implying deception to accuse Yaackov of stealing the birth-right and blessings. However after his famous night-time battle with the angel, Yaackov’s name is changed to Yisrael meaning Prince of Hashem. He shrugs off the Yaackov – heel image and re-emerges as Yisrael – the Prince.

 

Why then when the word eikev is used at the start of this week’s Sedra does Rashi translate it as heel? The Torah says; all this (blessing) will happen to you, eikev- because you will listen to My Mitzvot. But Rashi translates it with the lowly heel connotation; the blessing will happen to you, even though you only keep the Mitzvot with your eikev – heel. Why the negative aspect? And especially at this critical point in our history when we are just about to enter into Eretz Yisrael!

 

Enter our TNT.

 

I believe that the Torah wasn’t discouraging us, but just the opposite, it was empowering us. At this critical moment in our history we were being injected with TNT, and what an explosive power it was! Hashem was saying to us that even when we keep Mitzvot with ‘just our heel’, we are still transforming the world. We sometimes belittle ourselves, or listen to others knock us down with the accusation that we aren’t good enough, that we aren’t committed enough, that we aren’t fulfilling Hashem’s charge to make this world a dwelling place for Him. Well I believe that we are, for that is the unique quality of the Jew; even when we are ‘just’ keeping the Mitzvot with our ‘heel’, we are still changing the world. For our Spiritual DNA, our Neshama is pluripotent; it has the properties of TNT and we can transmogrify this world with our every action.

 

Sir John Gurdon of Cambridge and Shinya Yamanaka of Kyoto may have received the Nobel prize for physiology with their research and hopeful breakthrough, but you and I receive a far greater prize every single day. And no electronic chip needs to be inserted into our skin, we have all the tools already at our disposal: Jewish TNT!

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 by Dovid Lewis

Red Skies and Shabbat Wonders

Red Skies and Shabbat Wonders

Va’eschanan 5777

Walking to Shul last week for Shabbat Mincha, we were greeted by the most phenomenal sunset. The entire western sky was a deep and vibrant red, whilst to the east was a perfect double rainbow. Of course, we then debated what that meant, and what indeed was the meaning of red sky at night – shepherd’s delight; although one of the Minyan men said red sky at night – shepherd’s cottage alight!

 

But I was thinking about that when reading the repetition of the 10 Commandments in this week’s Sedra. There are a few grammatical changes from the first account of the 10 Commandments in the Sedra of Yisro, but those are due to the fact that this time Moshe is saying them as opposed to Hashem. However, when detailing the fourth commandment, the Mitzvah of Shabbat, we are presented with an entirely different reason for keeping the Mitzvah. In Yisro it is to remember the creation of the world, whereas in our Sedra of Va’eschanan it is to remember the Exodus from Egypt.

 

Why two totally different reasons for the same Mitzvah?

 

The answer is that neither of those are the reason for the Mitzvah of Shabbat, but rather a guide as to how to appreciate Shabbat. For Shabbat is unique in that it is actually about creating a partnership with Hashem and His involvement in the world. We stop working to remind ourselves that we aren’t the ones in charge of our livelihood, but are part of the greater story as written by the Master Author. The reason for the Mitzvah of Shabbat it to enforce that partnership.

 

The two aspects of Creation and the Exodus are guides as to how we understand that partnership and the reason for Shabbat.

 

When speaking to the Jewish Nation at Mount Sinai, Hashem was speaking to an inspired Nation, a Nation that could literally look at the world around them and see the Hand of Hashem. For them to understand Shabbat and our partnership with the Almighty it was enough to connect Shabbat with the 6 Days of Creation. 40 years later however, Moshe was speaking to a generation later on, to a Nation that was about to enter into the Holy Land and would have to be more intimately involved in nature. We would see the rising of the sun as the norm not as proof of Hashem. We would have to toil the earth ourselves instead of receiving the Manna from Heaven, and would understandably get lost in the nature and lose sight of the Divine Hand. Moshe therefore connected our partnership with Hashem that is spelt out by Shabbat with the Exodus as opposed to the Creation. We needed the ‘aha moment’, the miraculous nature of the Exodus as a visual reminder of Hashem constantly creating the world.

 

Moshe was telling that Generation, and indeed every Jew right until the 21st century and beyond, that whilst it might be nice to recognise Hashem’s constant connection with the world through the everyday nature of life, it is probably easier to do so when confronted by the different, unnatural and miraculous moments. Watching the daily sunrise might not do it, but seeing a spectacular bright red sunset probably does. A regular day in the office undoubtedly doesn’t, but bumping into the right contact at exactly the right moment, just when you are about to close the deal and desperately need their expertise, does – or at least it should!

 

Moshe was letting them and us know, that when we have those ‘aha moments’, such as the Exodus or the birth of a child, such as the miraculous rescue from the devastating car crash or the right-place/right-time event, that we need to grab hold of them as our personal gift. The gift that we are presented with every Shabbat, but unfortunately also take for granted. Shabbat is not just about letting Hashem into our lives, it is about letting ourselves recognize that Hashem is already part of lives.

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 by Dovid Lewis

Whovians and Women – Mattot-Massei 5777

Whovians & Women

Mattot-Masei 5777

As a ‘Whovian’ I was disappointed with this week’s news that the 14th Doctor would be a woman! And no, not because I’m sexist, but because I am disappointed that it was such news. If the Doctor can regenerate, can travel through space and time, if he can defeat an entire army of Daleks with nothing more than a screwdriver, sonic or not, then what is the big deal if he is a she? I know that this might identify me as a traitor, I will most probably be accused of not being a real Whovian, but those that have an issue with it have totally missed the whole concept of being a Time Lord.

 

And what greater example of a Time Lord than to pick up on something that began in last week’s Sedra, and then crosses over to the end of the 2nd of this week’s! Last week’s Sedra Pinchas, presents us with the issue of women inheriting. The original Halacha was that a daughter does not inherit her father’s portion in the Land of Israel. Along came the five daughters of Tzelafchad; Machla, Noah, Choglah, Milkah and Tirzah who complained that they were losing out. Their father had passed away a number of years earlier, although not due to being part of the Sin of the Spies, and his rightful inheritance in the Land of Israel was being lost simply because he had no sons. Their complaint is heard and the Halacha was changed to allow a daughter to inherit as well. There remained a caveat that she had to marry within her father’s Tribe so as to ensure that the property remained within that Tribe and not get swallowed up by another. But the Halacha was now changed.

 

Why though wasn’t it ‘correct and just’ to begin with? Surely Hashem knew what was right! Why was it necessary to manufacture the situation? We can’t just say that Hashem was offering us ‘free choice’, for if so why specifically this case and not any other?

 

I would like to suggest that this was the litmus test of the Jewish Nation, a young People who were about to enter into their Ancestral and Holy Land. How would they treat those people within society who by nature might be at a disadvantage? Helping out the stranger and the disabled, that is a profoundly Jewish trait, but it is also what is expected. How though were we going to deal with those whose disadvantage was not as blatant and obvious? And how do we deal with those who refuse to go quietly into the night, with those who don’t simply sulk away and nurse their grievances but without actually doing anything about it?

 

This was our test and we passed it. The daughters of Tzelafchad passed their test when they refused to simply accept the status quo. They taught a valuable lesson to Jewish women throughout our history; stand up and fight for what you believe in. And secondly, we as a Nation learnt our lesson, listen to our women and ensure that they too receive their fair share. It would have been all too easy for Hashem to write that law in the first place, but then we would never have gone on the journey of discovery and learnt that lesson. How fitting it is then, that the next Sedra (the start of this week’s double) records all of our journeys through the desert to get to the Land of Israel. The literal journey was not complete until we had gone along the spiritual and intellectual journey that culminated in equality for all. The final Halacha at the end of the double Mattot-Massei then records the actuality, that the five sisters did indeed inherit the land. This was no theoretical exercise, but also came to a real conclusion.

 

So yes, as a Whovian I was disappointed, but not because the Doctor was now a woman, but because the BBC made such a deal out of it. Or maybe it was just a cost cutting exercise by the BBC, since as we now all know, their female stars get paid substantially less than their male counterparts!

 

These Sedras are always read during the Three Weeks, where 1) we increase in our desire for a full return to the Land of Israel and 2) where we are reminded to treat everyone with respect.

 

May we merit to pass our ultimate litmus test and be rewarded with an end to our exile and a return to our ancestral home in peace and holiness.

 

Shabbat Shalom,

 

Rabbi Dovid

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 by Dovid Lewis

Fake News – Pinchas 5777

Fake News or just a different perspective

Pinchas 5777

 

Whilst at a Rabbi’s conference this week in Bosworth, Warwickshire (yes, we do get to all the most exotic places) I was reconnected with an old Chassidic story. A Chossid from Kharkov, Ukraine was visiting Rabbi Shalom DovBer in Lubavitch, White Russia. The Rebbe asked him how things are in Kharkov. The Chossid answered that everything was good, people were friendly to each other, the learning was stimulating, the Davenning was inspirational and the Brotherhood of Chassidim was just as it should be. The Rebbe gave him a gold rouble and thanked him for his good news.

 

Later that day, another Chossid from Kharkov visited the Rebbe and was asked the same question. He however answered exactly the opposite and told the Rebbe how in truth everybody was fighting with each other, the learning was non-existent and the Davenning was flat and perfunctory; in short, the Brotherhood was at an all-time low. The Rebbe thanked him and sent him on his way, albeit without a gold rouble.

 

As luck would have it, that Shabbat the second Chossid became aware of what had transpired when his friend had gone to the Rebbe and given him his report. He was upset and complained to the Rebbe; why was I penalised for telling the truth? The other Chossid just told you a bubba meiseh and he got a gold rouble for it, surely I who told the truth should be likewise compensated.

 

The Rebbe replied and said “do you really think that I don’t know what is happening in Kharkov? I just wanted to know in which Kharkov you were living!”

 

What a powerful statement indeed. Kharkov is Kharkov, it’s down to us to decide which Kharkov we choose to live in.

 

In this week’s Sedra we are once again told about all of the Chagim, about Rosh Chodesh and the Appointed times. The one thing in common with all of these festivals, different to Shabbat, is that they occur due to our actions. We as a community, under the direction of the Sanhedrin, would declare the day Rosh Chodesh and thus the subsequent Chagim would fall on their appointed times.  Shabbat happens automatically, but Rosh Chodesh and the Chagim need our involvement. At times we might even miss seeing the new moon, Rosh Chodesh could be delayed because of the cloud or for any other reason and with that Yom Kippur would be celebrated a day late; we would in fact be eating on the day which officially would be Yom Kippur and fasting on what is officially a regular week day!

 

The Almighty created this paradox, whereby we can celebrate a festival on its wrong date, precisely because of the sentiments expressed in the story above. He knows the truth about Kharkov, about our world, He just wants to know which Kharkov are we living in. Can we see this world and elevate it? Can we look at our surroundings, be they our personal lives, our Shuls, our friends or our business, can we look at them and declare them good or do we complain?

 

This isn’t about burying our heads in the sand. It is about having the right positive attitude, for with that a normal day of the week can be transformed into an Appointed Time of the Almighty. That is our Power. That is His gift to us. Now what are we going to do with it?

 

Wishing you all a Shabbat Shalom,

Rabbi Dovid

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 by Dovid Lewis

Jewish Flintstones – Balak 5777

Jewish Flintstones

Balak 5777

Yes, even the Flintstones were Jewish! And I’ll prove it to you.

 

This week’s Sedra records the attempt by Balak to hire the sorcerer Billam to curse the Jewish Nation. Unfortunately for him, it was money poured down the drain, as instead of curses, what flowed from Billam’s mouth were some of the most powerful and rich blessings written in the Torah. He tried multiple times, he tried to change his vantage point, he tried offering up sacrifices, but nothing worked and all he was able to say were blessings.

 

All of Billam’s blessings were said as parables, and one of those looked at the ancestry of our Nation. He describes our forebears Avraham, Yitzchak and Yaackov together with Sarah, Rivka, Rochel and Leah as the sturdy rock mountains upon which our Nation rests. The powerful foundations which keep the Jewish People standing tall and strong regardless of the buffeting winds of change that have accompanied us throughout the millennia.

 

And here come the Flintstones, for instead of using the usual word for rocks and mountains, even and har, Billam uses the word tzur, which actually means a flint-stone! And as Billam told Balak at the very beginning of his quest; “only the words which Hashem puts in my mouth, can I say”, there is obviously a reason why he used tzur instead of har.

 

The unique quality of a flint stone is that although one can extract a spark from it, there is no evidence from the outside that this spark is there. In fact, if you break the flint stone into many small pieces, if you take it apart, you still can’t see the spark, although you can still produce one. Soak the stone in water and it makes no difference, the spark is still inherently there.

 

The reason is that the power of that spark is not just invisible, it is in fact not there within the flint, it is the flint. The potential is so much a part of the fabric of the flint that trying to extract it is a futile task. It is not a divisible part of the whole, it is the entity itself. That is why that word was chosen by Hashem to describe our ancestors, to portray the image of the foundations of the Jewish Nation. Avraham and Sarah, Yitzchak and Rivka together with Yaackov and Rochel and Leah are the DNA of each and every Jew. We don’t just wear our heart on our sleeve, we are our heart. And the beating heart of the 21st century Jew is the same as that of our father’s and mother’s heart 3000 years ago; one that is inherently made up of a spark. A spark that does not go out. A spark that cannot be divided from the flint. A spark that cannot be drowned, destroyed or ever be dulled. Strike a Jew, any Jew anywhere in time or place and what you will discover is the spark of G-dliness. And that spark can, and does, ignite a fire that will continue to burn.

 

Yes, the blessings of Billam were beautiful back then and they should inspire us today to go out and ignite the fire of another Jew. For remember, that no matter how many candles you light up, nothing gets detracted from your own flame.

 

 

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 by Dovid Lewis

Mature Learning – Chukas 5777

Mature Learning

Chukas 5777

I was asked a very straight forward question this week: If the Israelites were guided through the desert with the Clouds of Glory, why did Moshe ask the Edomites if they could pass through their land on the way to Israel? (See this week’s Sedra 20:14) Surely they should have just followed where the Clouds went, which in this instance was down South in order to circumnavigate Edom and enter Israel from the East of the River Jordan. So who was leading the Israelites, Moshe or the Clouds of Glory?

 

The strange thing is, that in over 30 years of learning that Sedra, and repeating it every single year, I had never been struck by that thought. I read it and just took it for granted that Moshe asked the Edomites, who then refused to grant permission. I may have been blinded by this very early example of anti-Semitism, or possibly just not curious enough.

 

My questioner was much like Albert Einstein, who is rumoured to have credited his amazing plethora of scientific discoveries on the fact that he was a slow developer as a young child. Thus when he was introduced to complicated topics later on in life, he couldn’t fall back on the conventional wisdom that everyone else had absorbed as children, but instead had to analyse them from a fresh point and with a more mature brain. If one learns Chumash properly for the first time as an adult, then you look at it with a mature brain and ask those questions.

 

I now had to think; why indeed did Moshe ask for permission? I was forced to relearn the Sedra, to look at it with a critical eye and not just read the Hebrew as a story. Either we were led by the Clouds of Glory and were blindly following the directions set for us by Hashem, or we were being led by Moshe and relying on his navigational, and in this instance ambassadorial, skills.

 

I have not yet come across an answer in any of the Biblical commentators, (possibly because there is a simple explanation that I have just not considered!) but I would like to suggest my own answer, and one that struck me from the very fact that I had never been bothered by the question in the first place.

 

At this point the Israelites were literally on the border of the Promised Land, their 40 years of wandering were up and they were about to make the transition from the generation of the desert to the generation of Israel. It was time for them to grow up. For the last 40 years they had been led with the Clouds of Glory, much like little children (we were called the Children of Israel!) but now it was time to look at the situation as adults and use our own skills, in this case as showcased by Moshe. It was now our own responsibility to discover our path through life. How indeed do we enter into the Land of Israel? How do we deal when confronted by an intransigent adversary? Does every problem need to be cracked or are we sometimes better off detouring in order to avoid them?

 

Learning Chumash in Cheder and even in Yeshiva, I was being led by my teachers but now I am being led by my students – and lucky am I. For that forces me to look at the text once again and ask the questions, analyse it and come to a deeper understanding and appreciation. Much like everything else in life.

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