Here, in the first of three post-Sukkot items on the blog that look back to last week's festivities, we bring a short and colourful YouTube clip by our member Heshy Engelsberg, "The Sukkot Season", which succinctly captures the atmosphere in the streets of Jerusalem when our beautiful and eternal capital goes into celebratory mode.
You can click through to "The Sukkot Season" here.
The Midrash teaches us that when God, so to speak, consulted in Heaven as to whether to create humans, four representatives presented their views to the Almighty. This Midrash is an instructive way to begin to understand the role of Midrash generally in rabbinic writing.
The rabbis generally seek to express deep philosophic ideas,
conundrums and contradictions that we constantly face in daily life in a manner
that, on the surface, appears as a story or a fable: oversimplified and almost
naïve in presentation. Each student of Midrash must ferret out its intended
deeper message and its relevance to our lives, society and situation. This is
because Midrash is a living document, pointing towards current guidance and
thought—not a book of stories about the past.
But let us return to the debate in heaven as to whether
humans should have ever been created in the first place. Truth and Peace
objected. Said Truth, since humans tended not to tell the truth, they could
never be trusted and therefore had no useful function. Peace agreed. There
would never be a time in human history when war, violence and dispute were
absent. So, again, there would be no constructive purpose in creating such
beings and in having them populate the world only for them to destroy one
another.
The Midrash continues by saying that God, so to speak,
considered all four protagonists and their arguments. They were evenly balanced
at two against two. In order to reach a decision, He threw Truth down to earth
so that now the “vote” was two to one in favor of creating humans, which He
then proceeded to do.
The great Rabbi Menachem Mendel Morgenstern (Halperin) of
Kotzk asked: “If God was only looking to break the tie vote, so to speak, why
did he throw down Truth? He could just have easily thrown down Peace. With
Truth remaining alone, the vote would still be two to one.” He then answered: “Truth
can never be outvoted. No matter what the vote is, no matter how many speak
against it, Truth remains at its core, which is eternally true. Peace may be
compromised and manipulated. Not so Truth. It is a value that is all or
nothing. Something which is ninety-nine percent true is still not Truth. It
does not adjust to ever changing mores, fads or current correctness. So, Truth
had to be disposed of before a vote could be taken.”
The Jewish people have always been outnumbered. God promised
us that we would be a small people numerically—and that promise has certainly
been fulfilled. The human race consists of billions of people who disagree with
us and outvote us regularly. Sometimes they do this peacefully, but most of the
time with hostile intent. Other faiths have, for centuries, attempted to
convince us that the majority rules and that, since they prevail, we should
give up and join them. But we have not wavered as a nation in our belief in truth
as revealed to us by God at Sinai. We cannot be outvoted as we represent Truth
in its essence and sincerity. And that is the secret of the creation of humans
and the existence of Judaism throughout the ages.
Shabat shalom, Rabbi Berel Wein
This recording was made at a live concert at Kibbutz Yavneh nearly 30 years ago, back in 1995. Of this work, music critic Uri Epstein described it as,
"...an expression of exhilaration and awe in witnessing the phenomenon on creation."
The piece, which is of 20 minutes in duration, is structured in seven variations,
each being a day in the process of the world's formation: 1 darkness-light, 2 seas-heaven, 3
land-vegetation, 4 sun-moon-stars, 5 fish-birds, 6 beasts-man, 7 Sabbath.
You can watch and listen to it by clicking here.
We reproduce here the full text of the letter circulated to all members of Beit Knesset Hanassi ahead of Simchat Torah 5785 (2024), the date in the Jewish calendar that marks the first anniversary of the October 7 massacre, in which nearly 1,300 souls were slain and over 250 hostages seized. This letter, sent out by Rabbi Joel Kenigsberg and Jeremy Phillips, addresses the need to strike a balance between the mitzvah of celebrating the renewal of the Torah and the immense sadness felt by all Israel on the anniversary of a major tragedy.
Simchat Torah this year presents us with a unique challenge.
On the one hand it is clear to us all that this cannot be a
Chag just like any other. We cannot ignore the unspeakable pain Am Yisrael
has endured over the past year and that so many continue to endure even now.
Yet at the same time, this season remains our eternal zman
simchateinu. Simchat Torah is a day when we rejoice in the completion and
renewal of the Torah, a day that represents the unbreakable spirit of Am
Yisrael throughout history. Over the past year we have witnessed that
spirit again – with unwavering strength, resilience and unity in the face of
such tremendous challenges. We have a responsibility to celebrate the light
that has shone amongst the darkness, and to show hakarat hatov for the
good we have experienced – notwithstanding the pain, anxiety and grief that
still abounds.
Even in their darkest moments, our ancestors danced and
celebrated the gift of the Torah. And so must we. While we remain sensitive to
the deep sorrow in our hearts and in the hearts of so many, we cannot cancel or
erase the eternal meaning of our Chagim.
To that end, our Hakafot this year will aim to strike a
balance between our enduring joy in the Torah and the respectful remembrance of
those we’ve lost and yearning for those still in captivity. We will do our
utmost to give space to the two conflicting emotions that will accompany this
day. We will celebrate, for that is our victory. We will raise our
voices in song, for that is our legacy. But we will also pause, reflect, and
pray, for that is our duty.
As Rav Yosef Tzvi Rimon writes:
“The war is not only on the
battlefield. The war is also on the home front. The enemies are trying in every
way to disrupt our lives, to sow fear and panic among us, to cause division in
our people and to shut down all joy in our country. We will not let them win!
We will continue to live in our
country with high spirits. Although, at all times, we will remember the
soldiers, the wounded, the martyrs who were killed and murdered, the hostages,
the bereaved families and the families from the North and the South. We will
remember them, think about them and pray for them. We will also pray for unity
within Israel, and we will remember that our strength is in our unity.”
This Simchat Torah will be, as Shlomo HaMelech writes in
Kohelet (3:4), both an “et
sefod” and an “et rekod” – a time to grieve and a time to dance.
Indeed, we will dance with tears in our eyes.
The Sefer
Torah leading Hakafot (both in the night and in the morning) will bear a
special me’il dedicated to the memory of Sergeant David Mittelman HY”D along
with all those who were murdered and fell defending our people. This me’il
is part of the global Simchat Torah Project, bringing a spirit of achdut
and connecting us with over 500 other communities worldwide who will be
using identical me’ilim. each dedicated to the memory of a different kadosh,
in their Hakafot.
Additionally:
In 1973, in the wake of the Yom Kippur war, Rabbi Norman
Lamm delivered a sermon entitled “How can we be happy on this Simchat Torah?”. He
concluded thus:
“So we shall be happy... We shall
be happy because it is an act of emunah - faith. We shall be happy
because it is an expression of bitachon - confidence in things to come.
We shall be happy because our happiness issues not from childish and naive
simplicity but from a recognition that life is complicated and complex and
paradoxical. We shall be happy because our joy itself will overcome enmity and
adversity, animosity and hostility. We shall try to restrain the sobs and sing
out. And if a tear falls, we shall wipe it away and continue to dance. Because
when we hold the Torah, we know that no defeat is permanent, and that victory
will surely come.”
Simchat Torah reminds us of the eternal strength of the
Jewish people — the ability to hold joy and grief together, to dance with tears
in our eyes, and to continue forward as a nation bound by Torah, resilience,
and faith.
May this Simchat Torah be a time of true simcha and may we know only besorot tovot for Am Yisrael in the coming year.
Here's a recipe for etrog liqueur, kindly provided by one of our kitchen-savvy members, Juliette Rothschild. This recipe, she tells us, was handed down to her by a late Hanassi member, Sydney Faber, whom many readers may remember. The recipe goes like this:
ETROG LIQUEUR
Ingredients
3 etrogim
3 Cups of good quality Vodka (divided into 2 cups and 1 cup)
1 ½ Cups of superfine or regular sugar
Instructions
1. Peel etrog as thinly as possible (with a peeler)
2. Put peel into a 4-cup jar (e.g. a 32 oz Mayonnaise jar) or a litre soda bottle. Add 2 cups of Vodka.
3. Close jar and store in a cool, dark place for 2 days..
4. Remove and discard peel (strain before funneling into a bottle)
5. Pour the liquid into a glass litre bottle (e.g. a grape juice bottle). Add sugar and gently shake until sugar dissolves.
6. Add 1 cup of Vodka. Shake or stir again until all the sugar is dissolved.
7. Store for a minimum of 4 to 6 weeks (or more) in a cool, dark place.
If any Hanassi member proposes to make some estrog liqueur, can they please make it available to the Women's League so that we can sample it on a Shabbat when we have a kiddush?
Juliette adds that you can check out more etrog recipes on kosher.com. If you enjoy buttered toast for breakfast, here's one here for etrog marmalade to spread on it.
One of the great tragedies in human life occurs when one
person feels himself or herself to be a square peg in a round hole, ill fitted
for the life one is leading and for the profession or work one is pursuing.
Most of us, unfortunately, have to make some sort of peace with such a
situation, and suffer the consequences throughout our productive lives. Rare
are the individuals who can change course in the midstream of life, fulfill
their natural abilities and pursue their true vision, despite all the obstacles
that undoubtedly present themselves.
The import of the blessing of Moshe to the Jewish people is
that each of the tribes, as well as the individuals who make up those tribes,
should be true unto themselves. They should accept and follow their mission,
both national and personal, that the Lord set out for them through their
genetic traits and personal God-given talents. Conformity stifles all
creativity and, without creativity, there can never be progress in human
affairs, whether spiritual or physical.
Moshe loves the Jewish people. He has proven his love for
them repeatedly during his 40 years as their leader and mentor. This final
Torah reading is his last and perhaps most soaring expression of love for his
people. A lesser person would, perhaps, feel pains of remorse and even revenge
for the treatment he received during his 40-year career as the people’s leader.
Indeed, Moshe would be justified in feeling unappreciated, and that he somehow
never received recognition from those that he served so loyally and skillfully
for so many decades.
However, that would not conform to the character trait of
Moshe, who is the greatest of all human beings. It is about him that the Torah
testifies to his natural human ego, i.e. that there never arose such a prophet
within the Jewish people before him, nor will there ever arise another one
after him. In his great vision of prophecy, Moshe identifies the talents and
mission of each of the various tribes of Israel, and properly assigns to them
their appropriate role in building a holy nation and a kingdom of priests. By
so doing, he is fulfilling his final and perhaps greatest act of love for his
people, by allowing for the diversity and creativity of human beings to
function and build a greater and more holy society.
Chag same’ach, Rabbi Berel Wein
You can view Heshy's recording yourself by just clicking here.
You can check out this jolly piece by clicking here. Thanks, Max, for sharing this with us.
Both Pesach and Sukkot are weeklong festivals. In Israel they are seven days in length while in the Diaspora they are a day longer. In Israel the first day is a full holiday while in the Diaspora the first two days are full holidays. The balance of the days of these holidays is called Chol HaMoed—the intermediate, less holy days of the holiday.
These days
are a practical example of the Jewish ability to transform the everyday into
the special, and the mundane into the holy. We can understand the concept of
Sabbath and the holidays, times when work is inconsistent with the spirit and
message of those days. But Chol HaMoed affords us an opportunity to
work and not work, celebrate and yet not divorce ourselves from the demands of
everyday life. This period has a rhythm of its own, being a time for family and
friends, for study and reading, for relaxation and refreshment. But, even so,
it is not summer vacation or midwinter break for it remains part holy—and that
is what gives it its special resonance and feeling in the Jewish world.
One ancient
custom of Chol HaMoed is to pay one’s respects to our great rabbis
and scholars. In Israel, and in the Diaspora too the great rabbis, the
Chassidic leaders, and the heads of the yeshivot all keep open house, holding
court and making themselves available to visitors who may have traveled from
all corners of the world to pay their respects to the Torah and its scholars.
In Jerusalem, there is a special ceremony of “Blessing by the Kohanim” (priests
descended from the family of Aaron), conducted at the plaza of the Western
Wall. Hundreds of priests gather there to bless the tens of thousands of Jews
who gather at the Wall to receive their heavenly blessing.
During Chol
HaMoed of Sukkot, parties are held nightly to celebrate the “drawing of
the water” service that took place in the Temple in Jerusalem. The Talmud describes
how in Temple times this ceremony was celebrated with song, dance, torches and
bonfires, jugglers and performers. The “drawing of the water” from the spring
of Gichon, south of Jerusalem, and its libation on the altar of the Temple
symbolically marked the beginning of the rainy season in Israel and the prayers
for a bountiful rainfall during the winter months.
Though the
Temple and its altar are not now present, the celebrations of Chol HaMoed Sukkot
have survived and prospered. Throughout Jerusalem’s many neighborhoods, parties
and celebrations take place. The Talmud stated that ‘sleep did not
find our eyes’ at these festive Chol Hamoed nights. That still is
pretty much the case for the young today during these special celebrations.
Shabbat Shalom and Moadim L’Simcha. Rabbi Berel Wein.
The sukkah, like Yom Kippur itself, is a place of the soul
and not of the body. This is because, no matter how elaborate and luxurious we
attempt to make it, the sukkah remains a temporary and exposed environment. While
the body is aware of this situation and is somewhat discomforted by it, the
soul revels in it. It is in this way that the soul clings on to the last
vestiges of Yom Kippur right through to Hoshanah Rabbah, before our bodies
return to dominate our lives.
The day of Hoshanah Rabbah is considered as a High Holy Day
in its own right and not merely a regular day of Chol HaMoed. Though none
of the restrictions of Yom Kippur are imposed on that festive day or throughout
any of the joyous days that follow the first day of the Chag, the spiritual
atmosphere of Yom Kippur is still present, for we are living amongst holy
clouds and not in physically strong structures.
Jews the world over are willing to spend sizeable amounts of
money in the fulfillment of the commandments of the holiday of Sukkot. We are
all aware that the price of a lemon, an orange or any other citrus fruit at the
local greengrocer is of little consequence to us. Not so the price of an etrog!
It is not the fruit itself that makes it so valuable to so many. It is our
ability to fulfill the will of God through an etrog – itself a gift of God’s
bounty – that makes it so valuable as to be almost priceless.
The physical instruments that we use throughout our lives
are a means through which our souls connect to our Creator. Just as the value
of an etrog lies in what lies behind it–- in what it represents and who
ordained its use on the holiday of Sukkot -- would that we would view
everything in life, all of our goods and possessions, friends and families and
our society generally, with such a perspective.
In essence, that is the basis of Jewish thought and the
moral code of the Torah. On Yom Kippur we spurn physicality; on Sukkot we learn
to use physicality to help to connect us to our Creator. And it is that spirit
of understanding our role in this world of eternal values that truly occasions
within us the joy and happiness that radiates from the holiday of Sukkot.
Chag Same’ach, Rabbi Berel Wein
Today I found myself wondering: while we call out to God not to cast us away when we grow old, how do we regard our fellow humans? Do we expect God not to cast them out, while we turn our own backs on them and write them off as relics of an earlier time?
People often joke at Beit Knesset Hanassi being associated with "Young Israel" when it has so many members in their seventies, eighties and, yes,even in their nineties. But here at Hanassi we see evidence that everyone's life can be valued and that we can all be called upon to give as well as take, and to contribute to the well-being of our community.
Today I bought a couple of sets of arba minim from Rabbi Jay Karzen, a senior citizen if ever there was one--and an active contributor to life. We had a little chat, he helped me choose the etrogim and I came away feeling that I had gained more than a lulav, a citron and a selection of leaves. I felt proud to be part of a community where old folk are appreciated for who, and what, they are. We shall not cast them out!
This piece, by Hanassi member Rabbi Paul Bloom, was published yesterday in Jewish Link. Thank you, Paul, for letting us republish it here.
Interestingly, a cloud cover shrouded much of the country that day—an unusual occurrence for this time of year, evoking memories of the protective cloud that surrounded the Children of Israel during their journey through the desert, thousands of years ago.
Many may not fully grasp the magnitude of the miracle that unfolded on Erev Rosh Hashanah. Israel boasts three air defense systems, each a technological marvel designed to intercept missiles at various ranges: Iron Dome, David's Sling, and the Arrow system. That night, as Iranian missiles descended upon Israel, all three defense systems were flawlessly activated and executed, working in perfect unison—a feat so complex that the odds of it happening without a hitch are nearly non-existent.
Had any one of these systems failed, the consequences could have been catastrophic, with hundreds of Israelis potentially killed or injured. Understanding the intricacies of what transpired that night and throughout the ongoing conflict, it becomes clear that the low number of casualties is akin to witnessing a modern-day miracle—similar to the splitting of the Red Sea thousands of years ago.
Historically, there have always been those who questioned the miraculous nature of such events, whether during the War of Independence, the Six-Day War, or the Yom Kippur War. Similarly, the events of Erev Rosh Hashanah stand as just one of many miracles experienced over the past year. From the interception of hundreds of missiles and drones before Passover to the incredible detonation of thousands of pagers and Walkie Talkies to the successful detonation of crucial targets in enemy bunkers, these instances reflect unprecedented military achievements with remarkably low civilian casualties.
Yet, there remains a segment of the world that fails to recognize these miracles, including major media outlets like the New York Times. In their coverage of Israel's actions, particularly following the elimination of terrorist leader Nasrallah, the Times framed the operation as an “escalation” while eulogizing a man who sought the destruction of Israel. Such biased reporting does a disservice to the truth and reveals a disturbing tendency to sympathize with those who wish harm upon Israel and the Jewish people.
As we reflect on the three types of sins we must atone for—between man and Hashem, between man and man, and between man and himself—it's crucial not to overlook the latter. The process of teshuvah may begin with small, deliberate actions.
In Shaarei Teshuvah (Sha’ar Aleph), Rabbenu Yonah presents a poignant parable about a group of prisoners who were digging a tunnel to escape. As they made their way to freedom, everyone successfully broke free except for one man. When the king's guard discovered him, he began to beat this lone prisoner. The question arises: why was the guard punishing him?
Various interpretations exist, but one key lesson stands out: this prisoner had the opportunity to escape; he simply chose not to make the effort. His failure to act serves as a powerful metaphor for the teshuvah (repentance) process. Often, all it takes to begin our journey toward repentance is a small, intentional effort.
This idea also resonates with the story of King Achav (Malachim I), one of Israel's most notorious rulers. When Eliyahu Hanavi questioned why Achav’s teshuvah would never be accepted, the answer was clear: Achav made no genuine effort to change. Had he taken even the slightest genuine step toward repentance, it would have been recognized and accepted.
Just like the prisoner and Achav, many of us find ourselves held back by our own reluctance to act. The path to freedom and spiritual growth can often start with a simple decision to make that first effort.
For those who support platforms that promote anti-Israel sentiments, the decision to disengage from such sources is a simple, yet significant act of teshuvah. Excuses for maintaining subscriptions or advertising in biased media outlets do not hold water; the time has come to seek alternatives that align more closely with our values.
This Yom Kippur, may we all come to recognize
the miracles that Hashem has performed for the Jewish people over the past
year. Let us take those small steps toward teshuvah, collectively accelerating
the journey towards our final
redemption.
Just two days ago Beit Knesset Hanassi was privileged to host, together with OU Israel, a wonderful lecture by Rabbi Hershel Schachter on As...
