A Legacy of Sight, A Lifetime of Vision

In addition to our report on the First Yahrzeit event for Rabbi Wein zt'l, we bring you a most moving tribute to our late Mara d'Atra from someone who knew him closely -- Rebbetzin Ariella Goldwicht. This is what she writes:

A tribute to Rabbi Dov Berel Wein

 Rabbi Wein, among the many things I learned from you was that expressing a personal truth often outweighs the comfort of remaining conventional.

 Here goes my truth.

Thank you, Rebbe, for being a role model for me and my family, but so much more. I cared for you so deeply as a dear loving grandfather, not biological but chosen. Rabbi Wein, you were my Rav and esteemed mentor, but in my heart you were family to me. I merited the company, warmth and depth of you the person, not just the persona. Once you became family, there was no going back, and there isn't a week that goes by that we don't speak of you with that pang of longing and heartache. Your loss has left an empty place at our table, and an empty space in our hearts. I cared for you perhaps less conventionally than one might expect, but for me it felt right and I feel your stamp on my soul for eternity.

 

You were a man of deep truth and profound Godliness, of clear understanding and careful articulation. We reflected on your unequivocal understandings, we laughed at your jokes, and we took to heart the gentle way you challenged us to become better.

Not many people can express two seemingly opposing ideas with utmost clarity and live them both as certain truths. The following are two significant ideas that I have gleaned from you, Rebbe, as I navigate my roles as a mother, rebbetzin and teacher.   

‘To be an observant Jew, you must be observant.’

 And yet 

 ‘As a rabbi (and I understood that as anyone in a leadership role), one must know not to see and hear everything.’

At first glance, these ideas appear contradictory. Yet watching you live them, I came to understand that they are, in fact, inseparable. You taught us to notice deeply, to pay attention to people, to history, to the subtle workings of Hashem in the world. But you also taught us restraint, to overlook what would only diminish. Discernment is not seeing everything. It is knowing what deserves to be seen. Thank you for living that balance so beautifully. 

Thank you for being the anchor in our lives at a time when we experienced personal, national, and worldly shifts and transitions. We climbed onto the roller-coaster of history, joining the ride of momentous times with the master himself. We experienced corona, the pangs of 7 October and the subsequent wars, political unrest and heightened antisemitism, all through a masterful lens and broad perspective that only you, Rabbi Wein, could provide.

 

History was not in the past

 

Perhaps that is why your understanding of history brought such comfort. You taught us to look beyond the urgency of the moment and recognize that we were living one chapter in a much greater story. Thank you for reminding us that the best way to settle in Eretz Yisrael is by choice and not by fear. Thank you for clarifying that "Never Again" is not a principle we can rely on, but that true security requires both faith in Hashem and the wisdom to act responsibly.

Together we experienced what was, what is, and what will be as one guided and truthful journey. There is so much comfort in plowing forward into the future on the shoulders of the past; experiencing the present with faith and certainty, precision and a sense of rightful destiny. The security, safety, and reassurance that you, our great rebbe, provided became the food for the soul, the ultimate shabbos treat, the nourishment that fueled us week after week. The cravings intensified the more we were fed, the more we were nourished in a way that only you could provide.

To experience the warmth and love of a grandfather, the counseling and guidance of a Rav, the deep wisdom and depth of understanding of a historian, the personal advice and direction of a kind and thoughtful mentor, the bridge to previous generations; a window into the greatness of yesteryear—all from one individual—is truly the most remarkable and understated gift.

Rebbe, the gift you have given us and our children is the gift that keeps giving. Your wisdom—your voice of reason in a liberal and often confused world—has brought us to new clarity.

 While your vision was indeed waning, you left us all with the gift of sight

I read the words of your longtime editor who painted the picture of your last meetings together in your most recent, and I believe most beloved, work about your mentors. In her description, she enumerated that you met together in person to review the chapters as she worked on them. She noted that the Rav would listen intently as she read the chapters aloud, often nodding and smiling, sometimes even laughing heartily. As she writes, “It was clear that he was reliving these episodes of his life and envisioning the people he so loved and admired.”

Reading those final encounters only reinforced what I had witnessed for years. Memories, anecdotes, and meaningful interactions do not simply become history. They become the essence of who we are, and if we allow them, the tools with which we shape the future.

To me, you truly exemplified a life of the great Rambam's understanding of the ‘shvil hazahav’. You embodied Torah values at their utmost, and had a delicate way of making everything relatable, bite-sized, and, most importantly, human. You loved and cherished each mitzvah and took a real ‘chai bahem’ approach. You lived with them and they lived through you.

 Perhaps this is less conventional than expected, but it is the truth of my heart.

I would be honored to serve you just one last meal—and to be served so many delicacies in return.

 

Rebbe, as history does repeat itself, we will meet again.

Rabbi Berel Wein zt'l -- the first Yahrzeit

Despite it being the holiday season, Beit Knesset Hanassi was crowded last night as shul members, talmidim, friends and admirers of our late mara d'Atra, Rabbi Berel Wein zt'l, gathered to pay their fond respects on the occasion of his first Yahrzeit. 

The event was chaired by Rabbi Joel Kenigsberg, who worked alongside Rabbi Wein in his first three years at Hanassi and who, by his own admission, considered himself fortunate to have had the opportunity to have been mentored by him.

The proceedings got underway with a dignified recitation by one of our most respected senior members, Simcha Fass, of Tehillim 91 ("Yoshev Beseter"), followed by kaddish. Then came Rabbi Kenigsberg's introduction. The Rav opened with a sentiment with which we could all identify: that this was not the first occasion on which we had gathered to share our memories of Rabbi Wein; nor would it be the last. When the words of Torah of a talmid chacham are spoken by others after his death, it is as though he lives on through them. Happily, Rabbi Wein's words are available to us and we continue to hear them in his video and sound recordings, as well as in his many writings.

Much has happened in the past year, the Rav noted, wondering what Rabbi Wein would have made of recent events. What we can say is that his response would have been predicated by his attitude, reflecting how he dedicated himself to his belief in the Jewish people -- a cause to which we too must dedicate ourselves.

At this point we cut to the first of a series of extracts from the speech Rabbi Wein delivered on the party to celebrate his ninetieth birthday. In this first extract, Rabbi Wein spoke of time, alluding to the power of both Moshe and Yehoshua to make time stand still and describing it as "our greatest opportunity -- or our greatest enemy". He then spoke of four periods of time in his own life that had passed but, as he put it, were frozen in his memory. The first of these periods was his time in Chicago in his formative years with his father and grandfather: here, he was living the Torah-oriented life of Lithuania, and it was here that he studied law and went into legal practice.

Rabbi Kenigsberg then mentioned Rabbi Wein's role as a marbitz Torah, citing his immensely popular Pirkei Avot shiurim and his influence on his talmidim. This proved to be an introduction for our next speaker, Rabbi Mordechai Kronenberg -- one of the last people to receive semichah from him. Focusing on the parashah for the coming Shabbat, Re'eh, Rabbi Kronenberg spoke of the repetition of the names of birds that were not tahar, in particular the ra'ah, the ayah and the da'ah -- which were all different names for the same bird. This bird, according to the Gemara, had phenomenal eyesight and, perched in Bavel, it could spot a carcass as far away as Eretz Yisrael. There is a moral to be learned from this, he explained: the bird is not kosher because, despite its powerful sight, when it looked at Eretz Yisrael it saw only a nevelah, a carcass, that it planned to eat. Thinking only of itself, it saw past all the good and holy things. The moral was clear: when viewing Israel from afar, one should be careful to make sure one sees the good, not just the bad.

The next Rabbi Wein clip showed him talking about the second phase of his life, when he left Chicago and the legal profession and entered the rabbinate, taking on a small kehilla in Miami Beach; this venture was followed by his move to Monsey and his responsibility for promoting kashrut through the OU. He spoke of the encouragement he received from his wife Jackie a.h. and of the obstacles he faced from some other quarters. His summary? "If you are ever going to do something positive, the Satan will send you nay-sayers". He also spoke of the support he received from others, singling out the Satmar Rav, with whom he discussed many topics -- but not Israel! Rabbi Wein added a general principle that we should bear in mind: "The whole business of the Jewish people is people; it's not organizations, it's people".

Rabbi Kenigsberg's next task was to introduce one of our shul members, Simon Swidler, who for some years was tasked with accompanying Rabbi Wein to shul and back on Shabbat, when the latter's deteriorating health and mobility made it hard for him to undertake the journey alone. Simon spoke movingly of his attachment to this task and of the opportunity he had to exchange words of Torah -- including some ideas of his own -- with a rabbi who had all the sources at his fingertips and could point him to further reading suggestions. Describing Rabbi Wein as a giant in our times by comparing him to the Arzei Levanon (the heroic rabbis who gave their lives al kiddush Hashem), Simon concluded that Rabbi Wein was indeed a hero: "We define our heroes by how they teach, not by how they fight in battle".

The final video clip of Rabbi Wein had him confessing that his great ambition in life was to be a rabbi in Jerusalem -- an ambition which, fortunately for us, was fulfilled in Beit Knesset Hanassi. His final advice to us was that we should understand that, however good things may be, we always live in "bad times" and there are always struggles ahead. We are a great nation, but "the path to greatness is bad times".

Following this clip, Rabbi Wein's son Rabbi Chaim Wein offered us many personal insights into the private side of his father's life, particularly his deep commitment to shalom, his aversion to any form of machloket and his tireless commitment to tzedakah and chesed. 

The evening was brought to an end by Rabbi Kenigsberg. Asking why it should be necessary for the Chilsdren of Israel to leave Egypt by night, he quoted from Rabbi Wein's book BaMesillah Na'aleh the aphorism that our strength lies in the certainty that Hashem will take us from darkness to light. 

Eli Friedwald then recited Kel Moleh Rachamim and we trooped off home. Our minds were buzzing with the ideas we had heard, but the heaviness of our hearts at losing Rabbi Wein was at least a little lightened by our knowledge that his teaching, his wisdom and the warmth of his concern for his beloved shul remain with us still. 

This very special event was recorded in full by Chaim Snow. We will share the link once it has become available.

Beit Knesset Hanassi wishes to acknowledge with gratitude the generosity of those people who have kindly supported this event.

A Lifetime of Learning: Book of the Month, Iyar 5786

We usually nominate our Book of the Month at the new month's inception -- but the chance to honor Rabbi Berel Wein zt'l on the occasion of his book launch was too good to miss. A Lifetime of Learning, Great Mentors Who Shaped My Mind and Heart was completed shortly before our beloved Mara d'Atra passed away. 

This handsome and eminently readable tome reviews the impact upon one of the leading Jewish personalities of our era of some 15 remarkable individuals split between Rabbi Wein's family, his teachers and his mentors. There are of course some familiar names to be found; these include Rabbis Yaakov Kamenetzky, Joseph B. Soloveitchik, Yoel Teitelbaum and Yosef Shlomo HaKohen Kahaneman. Copies of the new book were selling well at the launch, possibly because there were many purchasers in shul who felt that it was not merely a book they were buying but a tangible chelek in its author himself and a memento of his immense contribution to Jewish history, mussar and community building across two continents.

Today's book launch saw a packed Beit Knesset Hanassi, sitting to rapt attention while the two speakers talked of Rabbi Wein, his life and the book that so eloquently sums it up. Rabbi Kenigsberg opened the proceedings by reminiscing over the impact Rabbi Wein had made upon him. He employed the analogy of a bridge to explain Rabbi Wein's unique quality of linking the glorious era of the pre-Second World War Torah scholars to us in our own generation in order to enable us the better to address the challenges of the future. He also observed that the qualities that Rabbi Wein identified in those who influenced him quite aptly described Rabbi Wein himself: he was the epitome of a real "influencer".

Rabbi Kenigsberg then referred to this week's Torah reading for parashat Bemidbar, where we learn how Israel's tribes were arranged by flag and allowed to cultivate their separate identities. One of Rabbi Wein's major inspirations, Rabbi Yaakov Kamenetzky, asks a question that should have been obvious: why only now, in the fourth book of the Chumash, do these instructions come, rather than in the book of Shemot when we took our first steps into the unknown paths of the desert? The answer is that separation into different tribes, each with its own identity and ethos, can be ruinously divisive. But once there is a Mishkan in place, a focal point for all the tribes, they can develop their own character while sharing a unifying common goal. Rabbi Wein too displayed uniquely unifying qualities; he was like a backbone, the beriach htichon of the Mishkan that underpinned our common interests and held them together.

Next to speak was Rabbi Wein's youngest child, his daughter Rebbetzin Sori Teitelbaum. She opened with some highly pertinent comments on the problems of performing as a public speaker, and then demonstrated how good she was at doing it when she proceeded to the main part of her address. 

With Shavuot looming large on our horizons, she led us through a memorable set of Aseret HaDibrot of her own. These were ten maxims for a good and meaningful Jewish life that Rabbi Wein either articulated or exemplified in his own life. These maxims were drawn partly from Pirkei Avot, partly other from the realms of practical psychology, self-control and the importance of personal growth and self-esteem. Each maxim was accompanied by an anecdote or vignette depicting a moment in the Wein household, and the importance of not criticizing others was elegantly emphasized by a recitation of the poem, "A Little Walk Around Yourself". The Rebbetzin also took great care to acknowledge a personality who, though not accorded a chapter of her own in A Lifetime of Learning, was plainly a major figure in Rabbi Wein's spiritual growth -- her own mother and Rabbi Wein's first wife Jackie. 

In summary, this afternoon was more than a book launch. It was an education in Rabbi Wein's approach to life, offering a rare and precious glimpse of the Rabbi as a father and a friend. It was a remarkable occasion that those of us who were privileged to attend will never forget.

***********************************************

You can access Rabbi Kenigsberg's speech here
You can access Rebbetzin Teitelbaum's speech here
Copies of the book may be purchased from Pomeranz Books, Jerusalem

When Tetzaveh is also Shabbat Zachor

This piece, from the Destiny Foundation archive, was composed by Rabbi Berel Wein zt’l and published back in 2017.

It is obvious from the context of the earlier readings of the Torah that, when the Torah states “and you shall command”, the “you” referred to is Moshe. Nevertheless, the name of Moshe does not appear in this week's reading. Many explanations, ideas and commentaries have been advanced over the ages as to why his name is absent from this parashah. 

Moshe’s name is so intertwined with the Torah which he transmitted to us that its absence strikes a perplexing and even jarring note. Since there are no mere coincidences or accidents of language and style in the Torah, the absence of the name of Moshe in this week's Torah reading merits our attention and understanding. 

There is an element of Moshe’s phenomenal modesty certainly present here. Moshe strove throughout his life to prevent Jewish belief from becoming the cult of the personality. He always made it clear that he was only the conduit for the transmission of God's word to the people of Israel and that the Torah was of Heavenly origin and not the work of his mind and pen. It would thus be completely in character for him to allow an entire portion of his teachings to Israel to appear without his name being attached to it. The Torah is represented by the great candelabra and the light that emanated from it. The fuel that fed that light—the pure olive oil—came from all of the Jewish people collectively and not from Moshe alone. It is completely understandable that the intrinsic modesty of Moshe would be reflected by the absence of his name being associated with this holy fuel and light. 

This week’s Torah reading coincides with the Shabbat of Zachor, which records that Amalek comes to destroy the Jewish people in their infancy as a nation. There has always been a tendency in the Jewish world to somehow ascribe the hatred of Jews by certain sections of the non-Jewish world to the acts, policies or personalities of the leaders of the Jewish people. In the story of Purim, the Jews of Persia blamed Mordechai for the decrees and enmity of Haman. But Haman certainly is not satisfied with destroying Mordechai alone. He meant to destroy Mordechai’s Jewish critics as well. To our enemies, the hatred is never exclusively personal. To them, a Jew is a Jew, no matter what or whom. 

The fact that this week's parashah coincides with Shabbat Zachor indicates to us that the problem is not Moshe or any other leader or individual Jew. Even when Moshe and his name are absent from the scene, Amalek and its hatred and violence towards Jews, are present and dangerously active. 

There is a tendency in the Jewish world to cast blame upon our leadership—national, organizational and religious—for all of the outside ills that befall us. Our leadership must always be held up to scrutiny and critical standards forpersonal behavior and national policy must be maintained. However, the outside forces that arise in every generation to attempt to destroy us do so even when our leaders are blameless and absent from the scene completely.

The Blessings -- Poetry or Reality? VeZot Haberachah 5786

This piece by Rabbi Berel Wein ztz'l was kindly supplied by the Destiny Foundation.

Rashi points out that the blessings of Moshe to the Jewish people are based upon and mirror those of Yaakov at the end of the book of Bereshit. Some blessings are eternal and always valid, while others pertain only to the times in which they are given but have little relevance to other times. The blessings of both Yaakov and Moshe are of two distinct types; they focus on their locations in the Land of Israel and the traits and characteristics of their individual members as warriors, merchants, or scholars, and as part of the national fabric of the Jewish society. 

Over the long years of the exile of the Jews and their disappearance from the Land of Israel, these blessings have seemed to be pure poetry, detached from reality. However, the words of the Torah are eternal and therefore in our time these blessings have again acquired relevance and actuality. We are once again a society of warriors, sailors, scholars, merchants and farmers. All these traits, that we were preventing from demonstrating  during our long sojourn in exile, have once again come to the fore in our daily lives. So, the blessings of Moshe have immediate and deep meaning to our generation and to the society in which we live. Perhaps this is part of the connection to the past, to which Moshe refers in the introduction to his blessings, a connection not only to the blessings of Yaakov but also to the original Jewish inhabitants of the Land of Israel millennia ago. 

Part of the blessing that Moshe has bequeathed to us is the fact that, even though no person is completely replaceable, it is also the case that no person is indispensable. If there is any one person about whom the Jewish people would feel that they could not do without, it was Moshe. Nevertheless, his influence and teachings remain with us thousands of years after his death, and Jewish people have continued throughout human history. 

The reality of human mortality is coupled with the miracle of Jewish eternity. All of us live on through the future success and development of the Jewish people. Those who are unconditionally attached to the Jewish people, heart and soul, are attached to an eternity that is not subject to the nature of human mortality. This is because of our attachment to the God of Israel who has proclaimed that “you who adhere to the Lord your God are all still alive even today.” 

That is the point that Moshe wishes to impress upon us in this final chapter of the Torah. Moshe lives on through the Torah that he taught us and through the people of Israel whom he helped form and lead during his lifetime. This idea of comfort and eternity is truly the great blessing that he bestowed upon us. All of the other detailed blessings, important and vital as they are, are nevertheless only corollaries to this great blessing of eternity and continuity. 

"Being True to Ourselves", Rabbi Wein's article on this parashah for Hanassi Highlights last year, is available here.

In praise of Sukkot

This piece by Rabbi Berel Wein zt'l comes from the Destiny Foundation archives. 

Sukkot comes at exactly right time of the year, psychologically and emotionally speaking. If it were not for the advent of Sukkot and all the preparations involved regarding this festival of joy and happiness, we would all be very depressed at having to climb down from the pinnacle of Yom Kippur to everyday mundane existence.

The Torah allows us to contemplate our future year with a sense of happiness and satisfaction. The sukkah signifies the protection that the Lord will provide us with for the whole coming year. Though the actual sukkah may be small and relatively flimsy as compared to our homes, it nevertheless symbolizes faith, serenity and confidence in the eternity of Israel and its Torah.

The four species of vegetation that are an integral part of Sukkot reinforce our appreciation of the beauty of God’s world. It reminds us that the world can be a Garden of Eden and we should endeavor not to destroy it or be expelled from it.

The different species represent the harmony of nature, the flash of its color and its built-in symbiotic nature. Whereas pagans worshipped nature, Judaism stressed its role as being one of the great wonders of God’s creation.

Abraham had it right when he stated that people wonder at the magnificence of a beautiful building but ignore the genius of the architect that designed it. Judaism, while always impressed by the wonder of the building itself, always looks intently to recognize and acknowledge the architect behind it.

Sukkot helps remind us of the necessity to always search for that architect in all of the facets of our lives and world.

Sukkot also reveals clearly our dependence upon Heaven for rain – for water. Without water in abundance, life cannot function and grow. The Torah tells us that the Lord sent us purposely into a land where water is a precious commodity. There are no great rivers or giant lakes that appear on the landscape of the Land of Israel. We are therefore dependent on the winter season’s rains.

We pray on Sukkot for those rains to be abundant, gentle and saturating. Rain has a cleansing effect not only on the air we breathe but on the life spirit that exists within us. Hence its deep association with the joy of Sukkot.

Rain and water also symbolize Torah and purification. Moshe, in his final oration to Israel, states that his words of Torah should be felt as gentle rain and dew descending on the Holy Land. The prophet Yeshayahu compares Torah to water as does King David in Tehillim.

The holiday of Sukkot reinforces this connection with its own link to Simchat Torah, the day that marks the conclusion of this great and noble holiday period. For as obvious as it is that the Land of Israel cannot survive and prosper without water, so too the people of Israel will be unable to prosper and survive without an attachment to Torah, its commandments and values. The message of Sukkot is the perfect conclusion to the spirituality of Yom Kippur.

The Song of Moshe: Ha'azinu 5786

This piece by Rabbi Berel Wein ztz'l has been kindly provided by the Destiny Foundation.

This song of Moshe is the song of the Jewish story. It accurately portrays the arc of Jewish history in moments both glorious and dolorous. The Ramban’s comment on the holiness and accuracy of Moshe’s prophetic words – “If someone stood up and accurately foretold what would happen many centuries later, would not one in hindsight be forced to admit to the truth of that prophet and his words upon seeing the minute fulfillment of that prophecy” –carries even more weight in our age, being a further eight centuries removed from Ramban’s time. 

Moshe calls forth the heaven and earth to bear witness to his words of prophecy, for he is aware that human logic and memory can never really be trusted. Unfortunately, memory can be dimmed and lost, and logic distorted or ignored. It is these factors – lost memory and flawed logic – that Moshe identifies as the cause of the sins of the Jewish people, and of much of the predicted travail that will accompany them throughout their history. 

It is not so much that there is a rebellion against God and Torah in our current society. Rather, it is that God and Torah have simply been forgotten, erased from the Jewish consciousness. For many Jews they simply do not exist. And in this climate of almost willful forgetfulness, any attempt to convince others of the errors of their ways by the use of logic is doomed to frustrating failure. 

Moshe concludes his visionary verses on an optimistic note. The covenantal relationship between God and Israel will remain binding and unbroken even unto the end of days. There will always be a core group of Jews who will not allow themselves—or others—to forget. Events will constantly jog the Jewish memory and new generations will arise and ask: “Who are we and why are we here?” And the response to those questions can only be found in the eternal memory bank of the Jewish people and their history. 

It is a very difficult task to restore memory but the fact that Moshe promises us that God and Torah will never be completely forgotten by the Jewish people reassures us that the restoration of Jewish memory is possible, and even guaranteed. And our logic will not fail us either. When we survey our world and our situation, we will reach the logical and holy conclusion as to what our policy and path in life should be. A nation of wisdom and insight, creativity and scholarship, will not always remain illogical and foolish. 

Moshe also encourages us by promising that eventually our enemies will be vanquished and shamed. Their nefarious ambitions will be thwarted and the Lord will balance all accounts with those who attempted to destroy the Jewish people. Good sense, accurate memory, strength of purpose and clarity of ideals will prevail and rule the Jewish world. Moshe’s song will continue to be heard throughout eternity. 

 "Our Two Great Poems", Rabbi Wein's piece for Hanassi Highlights last year, can be accessed here.

Repentance and return -- the long way back: Vayelech 5786

We thank the Destiny Foundation for providing us with this essay by Rabbi Wein ztz'l

Vayelech is the parashah that contains the smallest number of verses—just 30—of any parsha in the Torah. It also usually coincides with Shabat Shuva, the holy Shabbat between Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur. Its words are part of the last testament of Moshe, uttered on the day of his passing from this earth. 

As is his wont, Moshe minces no words regarding the fate of the Jewish people. In this most powerful of parshiyot, Moshe warns his people Israel that the Lord will hold them accountable to the terms of the covenant of Sinai—a covenant that is irreversible and unalterable. It will take the Jewish people a long time and much twisting and turning before they accept the reality of covenantal responsibility. But Moshe assures them that eventually the message will set in, and that this will be the basis for the Jewish return to God and His Torah.  This is the essence of Vayelech’s content; the brevity of the parashah only serves to enhance the power of its message. 

Some truths are self-evident and need no extra words or explanations. This parashah gains in power and relevance as Jewish history unfolds over thousands of years. Every deviation from the covenant of Sinai has eventually brought with it angst and pain, if not disaster, in the Jewish world. Just dip into Jewish history and you will see how Moshe’s words are clearly vindicated by subsequent events. 

Repentance and return is far easier for individuals to achieve than for nations. The Jewish people, or at least a significant part of it ,has strayed far away from the covenant of Sinai. The situation here in Israel is far better than it is in the Diaspora where intermarriage, ignorance, alienation and false gods have eroded Jewish faith, family, self-identity and values.

So how is it possible to hope for a national return to the covenant of Sinai under such circumstances? Vayelech seems to indicate that it will be a process and not a sudden epiphany. The prophet in the haftarah warns that no such process will be complete without recognition that the false gods and temporarily popular ideals all have led nowhere. He echoes Moshe’s words in our parashah that return and repentance in a national sense can only occur if there is a realization how badly we have gone astray. 

The great challenge, of the modern culture around us, is how pervasive it is in every facet of our lives. The confusion that this engenders in the Jewish people prevents clear thinking, accurate judgment and honest assessment of true Jewish values versus current faddish correctness. 

Vayalech is short—but our way back is long and arduous. In the good and blessed year that we have just begun let us start—and then continue—that journey that leads back to Sinai, but forward to complete national redemption. 

Eight People We Met on the Way Home: Book of the Month (Tishrei 5786)

Since Rabbi Wein zt’l was such a passionate advocate of aliyah for all, so often reminding his congregants and his wider audiences of the God-given connection between us and our land, it seems only appropriate to select one of his titles as Book of the Month for Chodesh Tishrei—and we have chosen for this purpose Eight People We Met on the Way Home—published in 2024 as the book of the lecture series on the major personalities involved in the return of the Jewish Nation to the Land of Israel.

For the record, the eight in question span a wide range of aptitudes, philosophies and religious orientations: they include characters as diverse as Rabbi Naftali Zvi Yehuda Berlin (the Netziv), Chaim Weitzman and Louis Brandeis. As the book’s webpage explains:

In a world of propaganda and controversy, Rabbi Wein takes you on a journey through 8 lives that were inextricably tied with the emergence of the Israel of today—and reveals truths you’ve been waiting to discover. Eight People We Met on the Way Home is an all-new riveting, emotion-laden narrative by world-renowned “Voice of Jewish History”.

It’s a lovely book and an easy read, with large, clear print and plenty of illustrations—some quite unexpected (Kaiser Wilhelm II and Giuseppi Garibaldi, the only great European political figure to have a biscuit named after him).

You can enjoy this book by borrowing the copy we have in the Beit Knesset library—but be sure to return it. Many books by Rabbi Wein that start off on our shelves end up in the private collections of people who have borrowed them.

"Are You With Us or Against Us?"

 Here's another piece by Rabbi Wein zt'l, drawn from the Destiny Foundation archives, on the importance of self-assessment on Rosh Hashanah.

On Rosh Hashanah we stand in judgment before our Creator. But we are not mere passive defendants standing in the dock awaiting a verdict in our trial. Instead, we take the liberty of submitting requests, suggestions and sometimes even demands to our Heavenly Judge. We pray for life and health, prosperity and wisdom, family and national stability, as well as for redemption, peace, serenity and meaningful success.

That is quite a long and impressive list of requests that we submit to the Almighty. It is part of the ethos of Judaism that such requests are allowed, if not even encouraged, by the Lord. These requests illustrate our dependence upon God and our inability to have hope, direction and planning in our lives without Heavenly aid and grace.

The doors of Heaven, the gates of prayer, are thrust wide open for us on the High Holy days and the Ten Days of Repentance—and we are bidden to take advantage of that situation with our prayers, requests and demonstrations of our improved social and religious behavior. It would be foolish in the extreme to ignore and not take advantage of such an opportunity to ask for what we need in our personal and national life.

Though the results of the judgments of Rosh Hashanah are not immediately clear, we are nevertheless in an optimistic mood and we celebrate the day in a holiday mode with feasting, family and friends. It is the connection with eternity and Heaven that Rosh Hashanah affords that transforms an otherwise day of tension and awe into one of holy serenity and satisfaction.

But Rosh Hashanah is a two-way street. It is not only our turn to ask God for what we want, but it is also a day when God, so to speak, also informs us what He requires from us. Judaism is a faith of mutually binding covenants between God and the Jewish people, collectively and individually. The rabbis taught us that, first and foremost, God wants our hearts. He wants sincerity and faith, belief and discipline, strength of character and good will. He abhors falsehood and hypocrisy, mendacity and venality.

The prophet taught us that the Lord desires that we act justly, love kindness, show mercy to others and to walk humbly in God’s ways. He demands that we live up to our side of the covenant, that we observe His commandments and sanctify His Holy Days and Shabbat by our behavior and demeanor. He wishes us to have an appreciation and knowledge of our past and a vision for our future. He would like us to share His view, so to speak, of the Jewish people as being a kingdom of priests and a holy nation—a unique treasure amongst all of the peoples of the world.

He also wishes that each and every one of us realizes that he or she is a special unique individual, not just a faceless number in a world of billions. People who feel special are special. Our self-judgment in our hearts influences our Heavenly judgment on Rosh Hashanah too: God invites us, so to speak, to judge ourselves in conjunction with the Heavenly court. Therefore we state in our prayers that every person’s signature appears on the verdict of the Heavenly court. We are equal partners in our judgment and in the outcome.

The national hopes of the Jewish people also find expression on Rosh Hashanah. No Jew is exempt from the destiny of the Jewish people as a whole. Our past century of sad and tragic experiences clearly indicates the futility of daring to imagine that the Jewish covenant allows individuals to opt out of it at will. Solidarity with the Jewish faith and people, with the state of Israel and with the eternal Torah is the guarantee of individual Jewish survival and meaning.

Joshua, upon encountering the angel in his tent, asked only question: "Are you with us or are you against us and with our enemies?" Unfortunately many Jews, deluded by "humanitarian" sloganeering, wittingly or unwittingly cannot answer Joshua’s question correctly. Rosh Hashanah allows us to look within ourselves and to declare to the God of Israel that we are truly with Him and with our people.

We wish to be inscribed in the book of eternal life and Jewish glory and not, God forbid, on the pages of Jewish perfidy and shame. Rosh Hashanah provides us with a wide range of important choices that have eternal consequences. May we always choose wisely and correctly.

The Ultimate Selfie

The following piece, written by Rabbi Wein zt'l in 2014, is as relevant now as it was on the day it was written.

The Torah emphasizes hat the day of Rosh Hashanah is a day of remembrance and of memory. Heaven can recall everything and everyone; human beings, less so. Human memory is selective, arbitrary and—many if not most times—faulty and inaccurate. 

People have often told me that they heard me say such-and-such in a public lecture and I have no recollection whatsoever of having ever publicly said something so inane. My memory is often faulty and betrays me when I need it. But the hearing of my listeners is often also impaired. People tend to hear whatever they wish to hear, even if the speaker never really said those words. 

All of this is part of our human condition, our frailties and our mortal nature. And it is a great and truly awesome (how I despise that word as it is used in current society!) experience on Rosh Hashanah to encounter Heaven’s perfect memory and faculty of total recall. 

It is not only that all our actions and words, thoughts and intentions are remembered and judged, but it is that they are remembered objectively and truthfully without personal prejudice or bias. That makes Rosh Hashanah the “Day of Remembrance.” There are people who are blessed with great powers of memory. But even they are fallible. Maimonides, one of the great geniuses of memory of all time, admitted that once he could not at first recall the source in the Talmud that would justify a decision that he rendered in his monumental work, his Mishneh Torah. If he could forget, then who will not also forget?! Only Heaven is not burdened with forgetfulness. 

This leads us to a basic question regarding our memories: what do we choose to remember and what do we sublimate and choose to forget? The Torah instructs us over and over again not to forget the basic principles of Jewish life:  God and the Torah revelation at Sinai, the exodus from Egypt, the sins of slander and gossip, the sanctity of the Sabbath, the continuing enmity of Amalek and much of the non-Jewish world towards the people of Israel, and finally the tendency of the Jews from the time of the Sinai desert till today to anger God by backsliding on obligations and covenantal undertakings. 

We have chosen to remember other less important things in life—foolish statements and imagined slights, unimportant statistics and false opinions, our jealousy of others and their achievements—while at the same time consigning the basic memories that should guide our lives to the dustbin of oblivion. 

Rosh Hashanah demands an accounting of our memory and our forgetfulness. The prophet long ago proclaimed that Israel was unfaithful because “I (God) was forgotten.” It is only forgetting that begets the ignorance of one’s heritage, faith and self. And it is that very ignorance that creates the climate of sin and assimilation, secularism and violence, greed and avarice that threatens our very existence as a people and a state. Woe to those who no longer remember for, without awareness of their past, their future is doomed! 

On Rosh Hashanah we read in the exalted prayers of the day that there exists, so to speak, a book of remembrances in Heaven—of memory. And in that book, each and every one of us has a page dedicated to our activities and behavior in our life on this earth. Not only that, but our signature and seal appears on that page, attesting to the veracity of what is written there. That page reminds us of what we have forgotten, and whether we willed that forgetfulness or otherwise. 

Eventually, after we have departed from this earth, our true and accurate powers of memory are restored to our souls. And, as the prayer records for us, the page literally speaks for itself, announcing the events and occurrences listed. So the ultimate day of judgment, just as the Rosh Hashanah day of judgment here on earth, is the day of memory and recollection. 

Remembering is the true catalyst for repentance and self-improvement. To put it into the current common vernacular, Rosh Hashanah should serve as one’s ultimate “selfie.” For that attitude of self-appearance is reflective of our fascination to remember and to know ourselves deeply and truly. On the day that everything is remembered in Heaven, we on earth should also strive to remember our past actions, attitudes and behavior.

Taking responsibility: Nitzavim 5785

 This essay by Rabbi Wein ztz'l has been kindly furnished by the Destiny Foundation.

One of the shortest parshiyot of the Torah, Nitzavim is however one of the most important in its message to the people of Israel. It features Moshe’s final oration to his people after more than 40 years of leadership, to be heard not only by his immediate audience but by each subsequent generation. 

Moshe reminds his listeners that there is an eternal covenant between God and Israel. The Lord will not allow the Jewish people to wriggle out of that commitment. Many strange things will happen to the people of Israel over its many centuries of existence. There will be events that are beyond human understanding or comprehension. 

God’s mind and actions, so to speak, remain inscrutable and beyond our judgment, let alone our reason. Moshe warns us that “the hidden things are the matter of the Lord but what is clear and revealed to us is that we are to remain faithful to this covenant [of Sinai and of Moshe]”. No matter how the Jewish people twist and turn to avoid keeping their side of the covenant, they remain bound by its consequences and results. Moshe warns them that eventually a high price would be exacted from the Jewish people for the abandonment of this covenant.  He advises them not to be too clever: times change, technology improves and there are new discoveries in God’s world—but the covenant of God with Israel remains as ever it was. Acceptance of this truth is the only way to deal with Jewish history and with all of the issues of Jewish life—past, present and future. 

The word “nitzavim” is key to conveying the above message to us with clarity and in perspective. The word suggests not only “present and accounted for” but also “upright and formidable”. Moshe fears that the Jewish people might feel unworthy and not strong enough for the rigors of the covenant. He reminds them of their true strength and capabilities. Moshe knows that a lack of self-confidence will automatically defeat the intent and goal of the covenant. If someone says “I cannot do it,” then that certainly becomes a self-fulfilling prophecy of failure.

Moshe reminds the Jewish people that they are “nitzavim”—strong, capable, resilient and able to stand up to all crises and problems. Moshe appeals to their self-image and inner strength. This attitude is both necessary and correct in the lead-up to the High Holy days. One cannot appeal to God, so to speak, on the basis of personal incompetence and weakness of will and vision. It is like requesting further cash flow from lenders into an obviously failing venture. 

When we pass before our Creator, during the Days of Judgment just ahead, we should do so with strong backs and confident hearts. We can and should say “Continue to invest in me and my family and generations. We will not desert the covenant, nor shall we fail You.”   

For "Renewing the Covenant", Rabbi Wein's essay on Nitzavim-Vayelech last year, click here.     

A living link in the chain of destiny

 Here''s the full text of Rabbi Kenigsberg's speech at the Sheloshim for Rabbi Wein et'l, delivered at Beit Knesset Hanassi on 14 September 2025. The full proceedings of the Sheloshim, including Rabbi Kenigsberg's speech, can also be viewed on YouTube, here.

As we gather tonight to mark the Sheloshim for Moreinu veRabbeinu, Rav Berel Wein zt”l, finding words of hesped feels no easier now, than it did 30 days ago. If anything, with time to reflect, the sense of loss is even greater, and the void more keenly felt.

Over these weeks, I have often caught myself instinctively wondering: What would Rabbi Wein say? Faced with a dilemma, confronted by the turmoil of our times, I have longed for his sharp, clear voice - the voice that could, in a moment, place events into perspective and set our minds at ease. That voice is no longer here, and how bereft we feel.

In keeping with Rabbi Wein’s wishes, our remarks tonight will be brief. But the outpouring of tributes from across the length and breadth of the Jewish world reminds us of what we already knew: Rabbi Wein was a connector of worlds. Who else could be admired and loved by the President of the State of Israel and at the same time revered in the halls of Satmar Chassidut? To all of them, and to all of us, Rabbi Wein was the voice of Torah, the voice of the Jewish people. He showed us our place in the eternal story of Am Yisrael and charged us with the mission of writing its next chapter.

Many times he would recall the verse we recite in Shofarot of Mussaf of Rosh Hashana:

וַיְהִי קוֹל הַשֹּׁפָר הוֹלֵךְ וְחָזֵק מְאֹד מֹשֶׁה יְדַבֵּר וְהָאֱלֹקים יַעֲנֶנּוּ בְקוֹל

 In his own words, penned just three years ago in Majesty, Memory and Resonance – Insights on Musaf for Rosh Hashana, he captured the verse’s meaning thus:

“When Human beings sound shofar blasts, the sound weakens as the length of the note increases. The Ba’al Tokeah simply runs out of breath. But the sound of the shofar at Sinai emanated from Heaven and had eternity encased within it. The sound of that Shofar did not weaken in time, but rather continued and strengthened.

That mighty sound came to symbolize Torah itself: not only has it maintained itself in Jewish life over millenia, it has the uncanny ability to become stronger and evermore resonant as the generations of Israel proceed… one of the great phenomena of our time… has been the resurgence of Torah study on a mass scale in Jewish populations the world over… the sound of the shofar at Sinai never weakens or abates…

The verse states… Moshe yedaber… the Torah uses the past perfect form of the verb “to speak”. It infers that Moshe not only spoke in the past, but that he continues to speak, even in the present and future.

This is the timeless quality of Torah; it has the ability to speak to every generation, providing values and guidance under all human circumstances.”

 Moshe yedaber, veHaElokim ya’anenu bekol. Rabbi Wein heard that eternal voice of Torah echoing through the generations and the events of our day - and when he spoke, he allowed us to hear it too.

Rabbi Wein was a bridge. A bridge across communities and ideologies, and a bridge across generations. His countless students are proof of that. There is hardly a rabbi in the English-speaking world today who does not, in some way, see himself as a talmid of Rabbi Wein. Though renowned for his history tapes, lectures, and books, Rabbi Wein never simply recounted the past. He revealed history not as a chronicle of what once was, but as a living continuum – in which we each take part. To sit in his presence was to sense the company of the Gedolim of the past. How many times did a conversation with him begin “The Ponovezher Rav told me...” or the like. Now it is upon us to keep his presence alive for the generations to come.

Rabbi Wein was a living link in the great chain of Jewish destiny. In a world of confusion, he was an anchor of clarity. He had the rare gift of making the complex simple: That’s what’s written in the Torah. What more do you need?

As we enter the Yamim Noraim without his guiding voice, the loss is especially sharp. Yet his charge to us is clear: to carry forward his lessons, his love of Torah, his faith in HaKadosh Baruch Hu, and his unwavering commitment to the Jewish people. May we be worthy to do so, and ensure that his voice continues to resound – not only for us but for generations to come.

Learning from our errors: Ki Tavo 5785

Here is another piece of Rabbi Wein ztz'l's Torah legacy, which we are privileged to share.

This week’s Torah reading describes two very different situations in Jewish life that have been present throughout our long history as a people. One is when we inhabited and controlled our own land—the Land of Israel. That is clearly indicated in the opening words of the parsha—“ki tavo”—when you will come into your land. The second, much more difficult, situation is recorded in the bitter, lengthy and detailed description of the lot of the Jewish people in exile, scattered amongst hostile nations and subject to violent hatreds. 

Over the many millennia of the Jewish story, we have been in exile far longer than we were at home in the Land of Israel. The recounting of the troubles and persecutions resulting from the exile of Israel from its land occupies greater space (and perhaps even greater notice) in the parsha than does the section relating to our living in Israel. 

Our land carries with it special commandments and rituals as described in the parsha such as various types of ‘ma’aser’ (tithing) and ‘bikurim’ (the first fruits of the agricultural year). Our exile from it poses problems of extinction and continued tension, fear and a constant state of uncertainty. In the words of the parsha, the conditions of the exile were capable of driving people into insanity and fostered hopelessness. 

Yet the strange, almost unfathomable result of exile is that the Jewish people survived, and at times even thrived, under these hostile conditions, while our record as a national entity living in our own country was much spottier. Jews are a special people—but our behavior is oftentimes strange and counterproductive. We don’t seem to deal too well with success and stability. 

By the grace of God we are once again back in our land. Having read the words of the parsha, in all of its terror, literally fulfilled in our own lifetimes, we have nevertheless restored our national sovereignty, built a wonderful country and an intriguing society, and are engaged in facing great challenges as to our future development here. 

We would be wise to remember why we failed in the past in our nation-building and why, paradoxically, we succeed in achieving major successes while in exile and under very negative circumstances. Straying from the path of Torah and tradition has always brought us to harm. The pursuit of alien cultures and fads is no way to fulfill our national interest and purpose. 

Our historical experiences, both in Israel and in the exile, have taught us that it is extremely foolhardy to repeat our errors. Returning to our land carries with it the challenges of living in holiness and having a special relationship with our Creator. Our efforts should be concentrated in strengthening and broadening that relationship. It may be wise for us to discard the bath water of the exile now that we have returned home. But we must preserve at all costs the baby—the Torah and its values—that has brought us home to the land that the Lord has promised to us. 

For "Jewish History in Just Two Scenarios" Rabbi Wein's piece on parashat Ki Tavo last year, click here.

What's inside the Selichot?

Here are some further thoughts on Selichot, penned by Rabbi Wein zt’l back in 2017.

The custom of reciting selichot –- penitential prayers –-preceding Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur is an ancient one. It dates back to the period of the Geonim in Babylonia ,if not to Talmudic times.  There are different customs as to when to begin reciting these prayers. Most Sephardic and Middle Eastern Jewish congregations begin the recitation of selichot at the beginning of the month of Elul while European Jewish communities begin their recitation the week preceding Rosh Hashanah itself. 

Over the centuries the number of piyutim available for the selichot recitation has increased exponentially. There are many hundreds of such selichot piyutim in our repertoire of religious poetry. A substantial number of them were composed during the early and later Middle Ages and were the work of the great men of both the Ashkenazic and Sephardic worlds. 

It was commonly accepted and even expected that Torah scholars would produce such selichot. Some of the greatest sages of Israel, such as Rashi, Rabbenu Gershom, Rabbi Asher ben Yechiel and others, are represented in the Ashkenazic version of the selichot services. 

In later times, especially in the modern era, the number and authorship of the selichot has become fixed, though even in the Ashkenazic tradition there is quite a difference between the selichot of German, Lithuanian, and Polish custom. Needless to say, all of these Ashkenazic versions of selichot vary widely from the piyutim recited by the Middle Eastern Sephardic communities—and there too there are differences between certain localities and ethnic groups. 

The basic prayer of selichot, upon which all various communities agree, is the recitation of the thirteen so-called attributes of the Almighty. These are revealed to us in the Torah when Moshe hid his face in the presence of the Divine spirit passing over him. The recitation of this Torah description of Godly attributes is one of the central themes of Yom Kippur, when we recite this section of selichot numerous times during the prayer services of the day.  In fact, the climactic prayer of Neilah on Yom Kippur incudes the recitation of these thirteen attributes thirteen times! It is as though this prayer, ordained so to speak by God, is the only weapon left in our arsenal of prayer and tears that will deliver us to life and goodness. The theme of the High Holy Days is to call to our Creator when He is close to us and can be easily reached. The recitation of the selichot prayers, from before Rosh Hashanah until through the day of Yom Kippur, reinforces this idea of closeness and immediacy with the divine and the infinite. 

Selichot is an invaluable conduit to achieve this exalted connection with godliness and spirituality. It is no wonder that throughout the ages the Jewish people have constantly observed and even strengthened this custom in our never-ending quest for soulful spirituality. Early hours of rising and devotion testify to the level that all Jewish communities dedicate to this custom of penitential prayer. 

What I have always found interesting and noteworthy in the piyutim of selichot is that most of them are concerned with the sorry state of the Jewish people in our long and bitter exile. It is as though we not only expect to be forgiven for our sins and shortcomings but that we also implore Heaven to intercede on our behalf and improve our lot in life. 

Except for the Ashamnu prayer, the selichot piyutim reveal very little contrition or assumption of guilt for sins on our part. It is as though we are saying to Heaven that the deplorable circumstances of Jewish life in the exile are why we are unable to fulfill our spiritual obligations on a constant and productive basis. This emphasis on national calamity, rather than on personal guilt, points out to us that the High Holy Days are not merely a personal experience but a national one as well. We are all in this together and the eternal covenant of Sinai joins all of us into one unit. Every Jew’s personal fate is intertwined with our national fate and future. 

And in an even further leap, the prayers of Rosh Hashanah tie us all as human beings to common fates and challenges. In Judaism, the individual, the national and the universal are all bound together in judgment and in blessing. Therefore there can be no better introduction to and understanding of the holy days that are coming upon us than the prayers of the selichot services.

For ""Of Emotions, Memories and a Sense of Purpose", Rabbi Wein zt'l's previous post on Selichot, click here

Torah and History

Rabbi Wein ztz'l was renowned for his perspicacious comments on the State of the Jewish Nation and how important it is for us to learn the lessons of the past when boldly facing our future. The following post has been composed as a perspective on history in Rabbi Wein's honor, by Rabbi Steven Ettinger.

I am writing this piece three weeks after the funeral of our esteemed and beloved Mara d’Atra, Rabbi Wein. The day following this Shabbat we will be gathering to mark his sheloshim. I am limiting myself to just those two adjectives—esteemed and beloved—as there is a nearly endless fount of words and phrases that could be used to describe his accomplishments, abilities and impact. Like many of you, I attended eulogies, read articles about his life, listened to podcasts and viewed videos—entirely fitting insofar as these are all media that he mastered in order to communicate his teachings to millions.

So many others are better positioned to appreciate his essence and have a more intimate awareness of it that I will not even attempt to write anything about him. Instead, I will share a thought about this parashah of which Rabbi Wein, as a man of history, would most likely have been aware—and which I am sure he would certainly have appreciated.

The most noteworthy part of this parashah is the tochachah, the fearsome curses that would befall our people if they did not follow their covenant with Hashem (these curses have, in fact, befallen us, down to the most minute and sordid detail).

It is perplexing that, after forty years in the midbar and on the precipice of entering the Land of Israel, Am Yisrael would be subjected to having to hear and accept such a litany of horror. After all, their own parents were condemned to die as the result of a single sin. One midrash describes how, each year on Tisha b’Av, the entire nation dug graves and slept in them. Those who rose the next day knew they were spared, at least for another year. Thus they truly understood the consequences of failing to heed the word of God.

But the curses in our parashah were not directed at that particular generation: they were projected out towards history, and to a specific era of history.

This is the interpretation of a particularly shocking interpretation revealed by the Vilna Gaon. He declares that Sefer Devarim corresponds to the sixth millennium of world history. There are ten parshiyot in Devarim and each corresponds to a particular century (Nitzavim-Vayelech count as one). For example, Devarim corresponds to the years 1240-1340 (5,000-5100), Va’etchanan to 1340-1440 (5100-5200), etc. The years 1840-1940 would equate to Ki Savo – years filled with pogroms, the upheaval of World War I and the rise of Hitler and the Holocaust.

Of course, the Holocaust continued for five more years. These are alluded to in the parshiyot of Nitzavim-Vayelech which is our present era 1940-2040:

וַיִּחַר־אַ֥ף ה בָּאָ֣רֶץ הַהִ֑וא לְהָבִ֤יא עָלֶ֙יהָ֙ אֶת־כׇּל־הַקְּלָלָ֔ה הַכְּתוּבָ֖ה בַּסֵּ֥פֶר הַזֶּֽה׃

וַיִּתְּשֵׁ֤ם ה מֵעַ֣ל אַדְמָתָ֔ם בְּאַ֥ף וּבְחֵמָ֖ה וּבְקֶ֣צֶף גָּד֑וֹל וַיַּשְׁלִכֵ֛ם אֶל־אֶ֥רֶץ אַחֶ֖רֶת כַּיּ֥וֹם הַזֶּֽה׃

Hashem’s anger flared against the land to bring against it the entire curse that is written in this book. And Hashem, removed them from their land with anger and wrath and great fury and he cast them to another land, as this very day.

It should be noted that the gematria of בְּאַ֥ף וּבְחֵמָ֖ה וּבְקֶ֣צֶף גָּד֑וֹל is the same as הפתרון הסופי, the final solution!

Our Torah is not a history book. Our Torah is history. While we have lost perhaps the greatest guide to viewing and appreciating Torah in this light, we can honor his legacy by continuing to appreciate how the knowledge of our Nation’s past enhances our learning and our perspective on Hashem’s plans for His world.