We don't find much street art in Rechavia, but go down the road to Nachlaot, for example, and you enter a maze of allleys emblazoned with striking and colourful images -- some angry, some humorous, some merely decorative and some quite enigmatic.
Here, in this seven-minute video clip, our member Heshy Engelsberg takes us on a tour of some of Jerusalem's most striking street images. Thanks, Heshy, for sharing with us.
Starting with a survey of the vast polyglot Austro-Hungarian Empire and the manner in which it unravelled, Rabbi Wein went on to describe how the Jews living within the Empire themselves fought vigorously against one another, with traditional Jews fighting chasidim and with maskilim and Neologs -- the advocates of extreme reform -- fighting them both. This was a tragedy because, ultimately, the only cause that united the disparate nations and communities within the Empire was their antisemitism and their belief that it was the Jews who were responsible for all their misfortunes. The efforts and varying fortunes of many celebrated rabbis of the era were also reviewed.
In the course of his lecture, Rabbi Wein reminded the audience of both the power of the press -- which was even greater in the late nineteenth century in the absence of other mass media -- and its propensity to influence rather than inform its readership. He also posed some deep philosophical questions:
Rabbi Wein painted a vivid picture of turn-of-the-century Vienna, the capital of the Empire. Vienna then was a rival to Paris in terms of culture and the arts, a fantastic backdrop against which Jewish attempts to gain acceptance, whether through assimilation or (in the case of Gustav Mahler) conversion, ultimately failed.
One of the more salient lessons that we derive from this week's Torah reading regarding Abraham and Isaac is the emphasis that the Torah places on the fact that they ascended the mountain of Moriah together. This is because continuity, the bond between generations, has been the hallmark of Jewish life throughout its long history.
Every generation differs in many aspects from the generation that preceded it—and this is especially true regarding the generations of Jews who have lived over the past few centuries. Scientific discoveries, enormous social changes, technology and communication that was previously unimaginable, plus an entirely different set of social and economic values, have transformed the Jewish world in a radical fashion. It is much more difficult, if not sometimes impossible, for parents and children to walk together towards a common goal.
The secularization of much of Eastern-European Jewry during the 19th and 20th centuries testifies to this fact. Even though different generations will always see matters in a different light, there has perhaps never been such a radical and almost dysfunctional separation of generations as we have undergone during this period.
It is basically true that the generation of the 20th Century also wanted to climb the mountain of Moriah, but they did not want to do so in the company of their elders. In discarding the preceding generation, its teachings and way of life, the new generation ascended many mountains, but they never climbed the right one. And much of Jewry today is stranded on strange peaks and at dangerous heights.
The challenge of the continuity across thegenerations is an enormous one. No matter how hard each family may try, not one has a guarantee of 100% success in maintaining the great chain of Jewish tradition. In fact, in my opinion, the challenge and task of today's generation, to somehow remain connected and to retain their values and purpose in life, is far greater than when I was a child.
There is no magic bullet, no one-size-fits-all solution to this type of challenge. There is a famous metaphor attributed to one of the great Eastern European rabbis who said that we are all but ships traversing the sea to arrive at our final destinations. Every ship leaves a wake in its passing to mark where the safe passage exists. However, that wake soon disappears and every ship must make its own way across the sea of life. The same is true about binding the generations together. The attempt to do so must be constant and one should never despair. It can be achieved.
Shabbat shalom, Rabbi Berel Wein
"History is not made by general trends but by people", Rabbi Wein began: this established his methodology for the evening, looking at the lives of some of the most prominent Jews of that era.
Starting with the United Kingdom (which at that time included what is now the Republic of Ireland), Rabbi Wein described the rise to power of Benjamin Disraeli -- novelist, apostate, pro-Jewish campaigner and ultimately Prime Minister during the lengthy reign of Queen Victoria. Regarding himself as an Englishman of Jewish birth, he faced down his critics and opponents by unapologetically asserting the nobility of his Jewish origins. Rabbi Wein referred briefly to one of the most famous examples of Disraeli's bold stance, which goes like this:
Daniel O’Connell, the Irish Roman Catholic leader, attacked Disraeli in the House of Commons. In the course of his unrestrained invective, he referred to Disraeli’s Jewish ancestry. Disraeli replied, ‘Yes, I am a Jew, and while the ancestors of the right honorable gentleman were brutal savages in an unknown island, mine were priests in the temple of Solomon.
Turning to matters religious, Rabbi Wein then gave a fascinating account of the development of the institution of the Chief Rabbi, which spread to several countries that were under British rule (South Africa has a Chief Rabbi to this day). The very Britishness of this institution made it anathema to later generations of immigrants from Eastern Europe, who rejected this Germn-influenced office and became the charedi community of the United Kingdom today.
Rabbi Wein next turned his attention to France, a country that was known for its inherent antisemitism and for the institutional hostility of the French Catholic Church. Here Rabbi Wein went into some detail in explaining not only the legal background to the famous Dreyfuss trial but also its pivotal role in reminding French Jews that assimilation -- despite its huge attraction -- was not a viable option in the hostile social environment in which they lived. The role of author and journalist Emile Zola in exposing the fraudulent nature of the trial and the reasons in his article, J'Accuse!, was also emphasised. So here in France, as in the United Kingdom in the case of Disraeli, it was someone from outside the Jewish community who made a vital contribution to Jewish survival.
At this point, we meet Moses Mendelssohn -- an orthodox and practising Jew but a man who was convinced that Judaism was in need of an uplift in order to bring it more into line with modern Jewish life. Being the centre of intellectual fervour, Germany was unsurprisingly the place where many scholars -- Jewish and otherwise -- exchanged ideas, arguments and their views on religious doctrine. This is where we also learned of Rabbi S. R. Hirsch, his orthodox ally-cum-rival Rabbi Y. D. Bamberger, as well as Abraham Geiger and the Reform movement, which was seen as a bulwark against conversion to Christianity. Rabbi Wein concluded by pointing out the fallacy of this reasoning: it simply offered a way to assimilate into German society without commitment and without the inconvenience of becoming a Christian.
We are fortunate to have not one but two divrei Torah from Rabbi Wein for this week. This devar Torah was circulated with the Hanassi Highlights, but the one below ("From the Universal to the Special") is the devar Torah that was originally prepared. Please enjoy them both!
The first two words of the second verse of this week’s Torah reading have received much attention and a great deal of comment. This is because the second of those two words—lecha (“for you”)—appears to be redundant. Rashi therefore interprets it as meaning “for your benefit and for your own good.” On the basis of this interpretation the Lord instructs Abraham to leave his homeland and family in Mesopotamia in order to achieve the greatness that is inherent within him, as the forebear of nations and the founder of the Jewish people.
Abraham’s descendants, the Jewish people, have shared this
test and faced the same challenge throughout our long history. We have
experienced insecurity and impermanence during the long night of our exile and
dispersal. Even countries where Jews resided for centuries, such as Spain,
Germany and Poland, eventually ceased to accommodate our presence. Even when we
played a positive part in the culture of the nations that hosted us, we were
“in” but remained the odd men out. How did we survive these enormous trials?
Because we always believed and knew that eventually we would be going home. We
prayed for it to happen and we struggled against all odds and enemies to make
it happen. And, in our time, it did.
This belief in our return to Zion and Jerusalem sustained us
in our darkest hours. It transferred us in our own minds—though not in the
minds of others— from the status of tolerated but unwanted aliens into visitors
and sojourners who actually have a legitimate and permanent home elsewhere.
This is the feeling I have every time I travel abroad and present my Israeli
passport for inspection. I am no longer a pariah or a refugee but a visitor, a
tourist, perhaps even an honored guest. The children of Abraham have returned
home.
Shabbat shalom, Rabbi Berel Wein
In this parsha the Torah’s narrative now proceeds from the general, universal story of humanity to concentrate on the specific narrative of the founding of the Jewish people. From this and next week’s parshiyot we learn of Avraham and Sarah, their difficulties and challenges, their loneliness and their spiritual quest. Their biographies show how they create the prototype for all later Jewish and familial society.
The Torah,
unlike many contemporary hagiographies, avoids painting a blissful picture of
righteous people who are forever blessed with serenity, immaculate character
and perfect behavior. Rather, it shows us the ever-present challenges to faith
in the Almighty: the difficulties of maintaining domestic harmony and of
creating a positive worldview while surrounded by enemies, jealousy and an
immoral public culture.
In spite of
all the very troubling details and incidents that the parsha records, there is
a tone of optimism and fulfilled purpose that permeates the entire parsha. Even the cursory reader senses that Avraham
and Sarah are up to something great and that this is no ordinary tale of
pioneering and struggle. There are Godly covenants and blessings, commitments
made that surely will be met. We also learn of visions of a great and
influential people, and of a holy land.
God’s
relationship with humankind generally will be centered in His relationship with
the family of Avraham, Sarah and their progeny. Nations and beliefs will vie
for the honor of being the descendants and followers of Avraham. Millions will
adopt his name and follow his monotheistic creed. He and Sarah will be some of
the most influential personages in world history. They will not avoid trouble
and travail in their personal and family lives; great will be their reward in
spiritual and historical achievement. As such, they truly are the forerunners
of the story of the Jewish people – a small and lonely people, wanderers and
beset by inner disloyalty and external persecution while remaining optimistic
and vastly influential in a manner that belies its physical numbers and
temporal power.
So Avraham
is the father of many nations and of all monotheistic believers. But he is
special to us because he is the founder and father of the Jewish people whose
march through human history parallels his own. The Godly covenant and blessings
will assuredly be fulfilled through the accomplishments of the Jewish people,
its nationhood and land.
Shabat
shalom, Rabbi Berel Wein
Here's another thought-provoking piece by our member Rabbi Paul Bloom, on why this parasha is such a powerful call to make aliyah.
The central theme of this week’s Torah portion, Lech Lecha, is the command for Avraham to leave his homeland and journey to Eretz Yisrael, the land that Hashem promised to show him. The words "לךְ־לְךָ מֵאַרְצְךָ וּמִמּוֹלַדְתְּךָ וּמִבֵּית אָבִיךָ אֶל הָאָרֶץ אֲשֶׁר אַרְאֶךָ" (Go forth from your land, from your birthplace, and from your father’s house, to the land that I will show you) are the very first mitzvah ever given to a Jew. Rav Meir Yechiel of Ostrovtza points out that Hashem could have begun Judaism with any number of commands. Yet the first message to Avraham, the first Jew, was to leave his familiar surroundings and settle in the special land that Hashem chose.
Why did Hashem choose this as the foundational mitzvah? R. Yehudah HaLevi, in Sefer HaKuzari, explains that Avraham, already the most righteous person of his generation, had reached a spiritual level where he was ready to connect with the Divine in an even deeper way. Eretz Yisrael, the land uniquely suited for spiritual perfection, was the only place where Avraham could reach his full potential. Even though Avraham had already attained a high level of closeness to God outside of Eretz Yisrael, Hashem knew that only in the Land could he fully realize his destiny.
Avraham’s life in Chutz La’Aretz was not lacking in purpose. He was discovering Hashem, fighting against idolatry, teaching monotheism, and performing acts of kindness—just as many Jews in the diaspora today raise families, run businesses, study Torah, and lead communities. However, Hashem told Avraham, “All this is good, but you are doing it in the wrong place. In My special land, you will achieve so much more.” The message of Lech Lecha is that Hashem’s call to live in Eretz Yisrael is timeless.
October 7th served as a wake-up call, prompting many Jews to consider aliyah more seriously than ever. It’s not an easy decision. Uprooting from the familiar, selling a home, leaving family and friends, and adjusting to a new life can be daunting. Yet the blessings Hashem promises to those who move to Eretz Yisrael, as outlined in this parsha, speak to our time as well: “I will make you into a great nation, I will bless you, I will make your name great, and you will be a blessing.”
Rabbi Zalman Sorotzkin comments in Oznayim LaTorah that this promise applies to Avraham’s descendants as well. Am Yisrael can only reach its true greatness—militarily, economically, and spiritually—when we are in our Land. The Shechinah (Divine Presence) does not dwell in the diaspora; we need to open our eyes to the miracles Hashem performs in Israel daily.
The Netziv adds that Avraham's example of acting immediately upon Hashem’s command to leave teaches us how to approach the mitzvah of aliyah. He didn’t wait for everything to be perfect; he set out immediately, leaving others to handle his affairs. For us, this can mean making small concrete steps: talking about aliyah, choosing careers suited for Israel, renting instead of buying in Chutz La’Aretz, or investing in property in Israel. Such steps lock us into the journey toward aliyah, making it easier to follow through when the time is right.
Even with all the challenges, R. Chayim of Volozhin teaches that the trials Avraham endured were meant to strengthen his descendants. His steadfast commitment to aliyah instilled within each Jew the ability to heed Hashem’s call to move to Eretz Yisrael. The recent events have sparked a renewed desire for aliyah, reminding us that every Jew possesses the inner strength and spiritual "DNA" to make this journey.
In these times, it is imperative for Jewish leaders—rabbis, teachers, and mentors in diaspora schools and shuls—to emphasize the centrality of Israel in Jewish life. As role models, they have a responsibility to inspire their communities to recognize that the future of Am Yisrael lies in Eretz Yisrael. This message needs to permeate our educational systems and our daily conversations, instilling within each of us the drive to fulfill Hashem’s timeless command: Lech Lecha!—go to the land He has shown us. I know for a fact this constant message works. In my shul, in Highland Park, Congregation Ohav Emeth, the Rabbi constantly talked about the importance of Eretz Yisrael and Aliya. Over the years , this shul had by far the highest percent of Aliya from any shul in the community
Let me end with a beautiful thought from the Sefas Emes, who raises a question about the closing words of the first blessing in our Shmoneh Esrei, "Magen Avraham" — "the Shield of Abraham." Why do we ask Hashem to protect Avraham? Avraham Avinu has been gone for thousands of years; why would he need protection? The Sefas Emes, in a classic insight of his Hasidus, explains that we are not asking Hashem to shield Avraham himself. Rather, we are asking Him to preserve within us that spark of Avraham Avinu — the essence that drove him to leave his homeland, come to Eretz Yisrael, and settle and conquer the Land of Israel.
We seek to retain the strength Avraham embodied, the unwavering commitment to avodas Hashem (serving God), enabling him to pass all his tests, from bris mila (circumcision) to the battles he entered , enduring hardship with an indestructible faith. Avraham’s life was built entirely on the will of Hashem, unshaken by the surrounding cultures and norms. This enduring spark, this legacy of resilience and faith, is the true blessing we ask for.
Ultimately, the question we must ask ourselves is: Are we listening to Hashem’s call?
The farmers’ simple wish to observe the laws of shemitta
in the Sabbatical year of 1889-1890, despite their patron’s opposition. This
ambition thrust them into the swirling epicenter of worldwide controversy.
Reviled by the Baron’s administrators, vilified in the press, ridiculed and
nearly abandoned even by some of their religious countrymen, they stood firm.
Their fight for what later became Mazkeret Batya sheds dazzling historical
light on some of the very issues facing Israel today.
Sam Finkel’s book, which is now available in Hebrew as well
as English, is illustrated with maps and vintage photography. We have a copy
here at Beit Knesset Hanassi which you are welcome to read. Sam, by the way, is
a local resident who can sometimes be found at Hanassi.
You can check this delightful little piece out on Max's YouTube channel here.
The opening parshiyot of the Torah portray a rather dismal picture of the human race and of our world generally. Everything noble and worthwhile seems to have spun away in a flood of vice, avarice, and murder. And this type of human behavior seems to have filtered down to the other forms of life on the planet as well.
The great flood described in this week’s parsha can
therefore be seen, so to speak, as God’s make-over of the Creation. We know the
feeling that comes upon us when, after working on a project for a period of
time, we become convinced of the project’s failure and of the need to start
over again from the beginning, discarding everything in which we had invested
our energy.
The parsha records God’s commitment not to bring another
flood upon humankind. Outside pressures and historic events, no matter how
impressive and intense they may be, are not the ways to inspire and improve
human behavior. A change of the human heart, a rethinking of life’s meaning and
mission, a yearning for spirit and eternity—these are the proven methods for
achieving a more just and noble society.
The lesson of this week’s parsha, and indeed the fundamental
lesson of the Torah, is that the path to knowledge and service of God runs
through one’s own inner feelings, attitudes, ideals and commitments. The task
of Jewish parenting and education is to impart this basic truism of life to the
next generation. And as the Torah itself testifies, this ability to do so was
what set Avraham apart from Noach, and the Jewish people at their very origin
from the nations of the world.
Shabat shalom, Rabbi Berel Wein
This short note came into our inbox yesterday. It speaks for itself.
For over a year, our daughters have been enjoying the Children's Service at Beit Knesset HaNassi. The Rehavia neighborhood has many shuls and many children, but does not have many shul opportunities for these children.
We are happy that we found an environment where the girls can daven, discuss parsha and play games with their peers. Having shul be a Shabbat destination for children builds the familiarity and comfort that encourages them to continue attending shul as they grow and develop.
Thank you to Beit Knesset HaNassi for offering the service of the Children's Service.
Efrat Benn and Nachum Lamm
We receive all sorts of correspondence, with perhaps more emphasis on telling us what's wrong rather than thanking us for doing something right. So, thank you Efrat and Nachum, we really appreciate your words -- and a big thank-you to the Children's Service team -- Avigail Kaplan, Naama Rosenbaum, Nava Swidler, and Malka Rosenbaum -- for all their hard work and dedicated input.
Some readers of this post may remember the distinguished Israeli artist Yitzhak Giladi, who was a member of Beit Knesset Hanassi before he moved to another locality. Well, Yitzhak has an exhibition of his art which is running throughout the month of November. Its title is Teva, Kav veTzeva ("Nature, Line and Color"). Details of this exhibition, which is being held in the Jerusalem Theater, can be found below.
The book of Bereishit reaches its climax this week with the deaths of our father Yaakov and of Yosef. The era of the founders of our people ...
