Surviving the threat of Amalek

This coming Shabbat is Shabbat Zachor, when we remind ourselves of the ever-present threat of Amalek and the imperative of blotting out this existential threat.  Rabbi Wein's devar Torah on this week's parasha is also posted on The Hanassi Blog, here -- but the words that we reproduce below were composed by Rabbi Wein some years ago. They are as current now as they were when he first wrote them.

The current spate of anti-Semitic media cartoons, op-eds and boycott movements serve to remind us that Amalek is alive and thriving as usual. There was a short period of time a few decades ago when many Jews were lulled into thinking that all this baseless hatred and nastiness was a thing of the past. Even the most naive among us today realize that this is unfortunately not the case. Therefore, remembering Amalek is a relatively easy commandment to fulfill today, One need only read a newspaper, listen to the radio or TV or view the internet to meet Amalek face to face, live and in person. 

How to counteract and deal with Amalek has been a continuing problem throughout Jewish history.  Apparently, no satisfactory permanent solution to the problem has ever been found. Perhaps that in itself is the basic lesson of the commandment of remembering Amalek. We must remember that the problem is unceasing and that it has remained insoluble for millennia. 

We should not be surprised or even overly discouraged by its sinister presence in our lives and world today. We must do everything possible to combat it but we should always remember that it is not given to pat solutions or wishful thinking. It is apparently part of the Jewish condition—our very terms of existence. 

The story of Purim is the story of Amalek contained, but not completely defeated or destroyed. Haman is hydra-headed and has always had disciples and followers. Haman and his sons were thwarted and hanged but that did not prove to be much of a deterrent to all the Hamans who have followed throughout history. 

 In terms of the destruction of Jews, Hitler was far more successful than was Haman, having killed six million Jews in five years of hate and terror. Yet Hitler destroyed Germany completely as well, with far more Germans than Jews being killed in that terrible and tragic war. 

 So again, one would think that the lesson of Amalek would have been learned by now. But the reality of Amalek is that it defies logic, self-interest and history and its lessons. Purim is our only hope in containing Amalek.  Purim is always hidden, unpredictable, surprising and unexpected. Yet it is also a constant in Jewish life and history. 

The survival of the Jewish people remains as the miracle of all history and that miracle is omnipresent in our current world. The existence and accomplishments of the State of Israel are offshoots of this constant and continuing miracle. Israel and its achievements give us a sense of Purim every day of the year. The miracle may not be superficially visible, but it is certainly present and alive. 

The Talmud's statement about the inability to distinguish between Haman and Mordechai is indicative of the mystery of Purim. Purim is not always what it appears to be at first glance. It is the hidden part of Purim that fascinates and confuses us. Our salvation is always unexpected and many times defies any form of human wisdom and expertise. 

Purim tells us never to despair or lose hope regarding our current difficulties and uncertain future. It is easy to fall into a funk when viewing all the difficulties that surround us. Purim preaches to us that such a dark attitude is inconsistent with Jewish faith and Torah values. That is why the rabbis stated that Purim is the only eternal holiday on the Jewish calendar. 

We will always need Purim and its message to continue to function and achieve. For without Purim present and operative, we fall into fearing that Amalek may yet, God forbid, triumph. So let us rejoice in the knowledge that Purim is here with us and all will yet be well for the nation and people of Mordechai and Esther. 

Shabbat shalom, Rabbi Berel Wein

The garments of the Kohanim: more than meets the eye

 The Torah goes into great detail when it specifies precisely what a Kohen must wear when performing divine service. This is not just a matter of sartorial concern, as our member Rabbi Paul Bloom explains.

The Sacred Garments of the Kohanim: A Reflection of Divine Honor and Human Dignity

Parashat Tetzaveh shifts its focus from the intricate construction of the Mishkan to the appointment of Aharon HaKohen and his four sons as the Kohanim, the exclusive priestly family entrusted with divine service. At this time, there were only five Kohanim in the entire world, and they were given an unparalleled role of sanctity and responsibility. The Torah details their consecration, their anointment, and, most significantly, the special garments they were required to wear while serving in the Mishkan and later in the Beit HaMikdash.

The significance of the Kohanic garments is underscored by the fact that, without them, the Kohanim were not permitted to serve. Their ability to perform the sacred avodah (service) depended entirely on wearing these garments. This tradition continued for centuries, spanning both the First and Second Temples, emphasizing the enduring importance of these garments in the service of Hashem.

The Garments as Symbols of Royalty

Rabbenu Bachya provides a profound insight into the nature of these garments, referring to them as "Bigdei Malchut" (royal clothing). Just as a king's garments signify his status, the Kohanim's attire reflected their exalted role in serving Hashem. The Midrash highlights that, in addition to the crown of kingship, there was also a crown of priesthood, signifying that the Kohanim bore a regal status within Am Yisrael. This concept is echoed in Megillat Esther, where Esther adorns herself in royal attire before approaching King Achashverosh, symbolizing the power and dignity conveyed through clothing.

The Dual Role of the Kohanim

The Kohanim held a dual role in their service. On one hand, they were agents of Hashem, receiving terumot, korbanot, and other sacred offerings on behalf of the Jewish people. On the other hand, they also acted as representatives of the people, offering sacrifices and facilitating atonement. This dual identity is reflected in the Torah's description of their garments as embodying both "kavod" (honor) and "tiferet" (splendor). The Kohanim served as messengers both to Hashem and to the people, bridging the spiritual gap between them. Rav Kook, in his writings, expressed the highest privilege of being a servant of Klal Yisrael, a mission embodied by the Kohanim.

The Symbolism of the Kohen Gadol’s Garments

The Kohen Gadol wore eight special garments: four white garments shared with all Kohanim and four additional unique golden vestments—the ephod, the choshen, the me’il, and the tzitz. These garments symbolized two aspects of Hashem’s Name. The four white garments represented the ineffable, transcendent aspect of Hashem (the Tetragrammaton, which is never pronounced), while the four golden garments reflected Hashem’s revealed presence in this world. This idea captures the balance between Hashem’s hidden essence and His interaction with creation.

A Contemporary Reflection: Shabbat Garments

Though we no longer have the Beit HaMikdash, the concept of sacred garments remains relevant today through the tradition of Bigdei Shabbat—special clothing designated for honoring Shabbat. The prophet Yeshayahu (58:13) speaks of Shabbat as a day of "Oneg" (delight) and "Kavod" (honor), which Chazal interpret as including wearing dignified attire. The Shelah HaKadosh writes that, just as the Kohanim achieved atonement through their garments, so too can Jews elevate themselves spiritually through their Shabbat clothing. The dignity and honor of Shabbat attire serve as a modern-day echo of the priestly garments, emphasizing the sanctity of the day and the nobility of the Jewish people.

The Contemporary power of the Kehuna and Birchat Kohanim

While we are all anxiously are awaiting the rebuilding of the Bais Hamikdash and the reestablishment of the the Kohen Gadol with all his Begadim, we can all actively participate in the last vestige of the Kohen’s service and that is Birchat Kohanim. This blessing is recited over 500 times a year in Eretz Yisrael (only 13 times in Chutz La’aretz). While you are in Israel, you will also move us to a period of time where the majority of Jews will be in in Israel, allowing for the the Third Beit HaMikdash to be rebuilt (in a non-miraculous fashion).

The Power of Clothing and Human Dignity

Clothing is not merely a physical necessity but a reflection of human dignity. Rav Kook points out that when we recite the morning blessing "Malbish arumim" (Who clothes the naked), we are not only thanking Hashem for providing us with garments but also acknowledging the fundamental distinction between humanity and the animal kingdom. Clothing symbolizes the divine spark within us, our spiritual potential, and our unique mission in this world.

In this light, the legacy of the priestly garments extends far beyond the Beit HaMikdash. It inspires us to honor Hashem, embrace our spiritual responsibilities, and uphold the dignity of the Jewish people—both through our service and through the way we present ourselves before Him.

Carol's hamantaschen: the prune with a pedigree

 Hamantaschen (Oznei Haman) are an integral and unforgettable part of Purim for us all. They are rich in symbolism as well as calories, and we all have our favourite recipes.  For many of us, the gold standard is the hamantasch filled with poppy seeds; for others -- including our member Carol Sundick -- the authentic hamantaschen are filled with prunes.  

The prune hamantasch has a fascinating history. It was invented in 1731 by David Brandeis of Jung-Bunzlau, Bohemia. And the story runs like this: the daughter of a Christian bookbinder purchased from Brandeis powidl (plum jam) which, she claimed, had made her family ill, as her father coincidentally died a few days after eating it. The burgomaster of the city ordered the closure of Brandeis's store and imprisoned him, his wife, and son for selling poisonous food to Christians. Investigations by municipal authorities and the court of appeal in Prague revealed that the bookbinder had died of consumption and the charges were dismissed.

Brandeis wrote a scroll which he called Shir HaMa'alot l'David ("A Song of Ascents to David"), to be read on 10 Adar, accompanied by a festive meal. He was freed from prison four days before Purim after the charges against him were proven to be false, and in celebration of his release, Jews from his city celebrated with povidl or plum hamantaschen.

Carol Sundick Family’s Favorite Hamentaschen Recipe

Dough ingredients

4 c. all-purpose flour. I have always mixed 2c. white flour and 2 cups whole wheat or spelt

1 tsp. baking powder

1 c. sugar

1 tsp. salt

1 tsp. baking soda

_________________

¾ c. olive oil

3 eggs

½ c. water

Instructions

Combine first five ingredients (the ones above the line) in a bowl. Make hole in center, add eggs (unbeaten), oil, and water. Beat vigorously to blend well, then knead with fingers until smooth. Place a handful on a floured board, roll out as for pie crust with a rolling pin.

Cut in circles with glass tumbler with a diameter of about 6 cm. If the glass sticks to the dough, dip it in flour or add small amounts of  flour to the bowl of kneaded flour until it is not sticky. 

Mix the filling ingredients (which are listed below) together in a food processor. Add a tsp. of filling and bring sides of dough together to form a triangle as shown in the illustration above. Press sides well, so they don’t split open while baking (I like to brush beaten egg white on top of each hamentasch, to give it a shiny glaze). Bake at 185-190 degrees for approximately 25 minutes until light brown. Check it occasionally to make sure it is not getting too dark. Put finished hamantaschen on a cooling rack or oven rack. Enjoy!

Filling ingredients

½ kg prunes (pitted and chopped)

¼ c. chopped nuts

¼ c.toasted crumbled bread crumbs

1 Tbs. honey

1 c. raisins (chopped)

½  lemon (juice and rind)

½ c. sugar

Why should we have simcha in Adar?

In shul yesterday morning Rabbi Wein asked a great question: why should the month of Adar be greeted with the slogan mishenichnas Adar, marbim besimcha (Ta'anit 29a: "When Adar comes in,we increase simcha")? If it's because God performed miracles for us on Purim, haven't we picked the wrong month? Adar is followed immediately by the month of Nisan, when God performed far more miracles for us--and bigger ones too. Shouldn't we be told to increase our simcha (whatever this hard-to-translate word truly means) in Nisan instead?

Quoting Rabbi Tzadok HaKohen, Rabbi Wein offered us an answer. Yes, God did amazing miracles for us in Nisan, not least of which were the Splitting of the Red Sea and the single-handed destruction of what was at the time the world's most state-of-the-art army.  But what were we? Nothing but an appreciative audience, passengers if you like, while God did everything on our behalf. In the story of Purim, however, we see that God's intervention was behind the scenes, leaving us the opportunity to play a part in the turn of events that led to our salvation. 

The point is this: there is more simcha to be derived from something that we have had a hand in, because we were part of the resolution of the problem. We were participants in Purim--and participation, doing something ourselves, is the source of real simcha. Of course we were hugely grateful for the miracles of Pesach and we remember them every year. And to commemorate our participation in the Purim miracles, we have been given a festival based on participation and involvement: we have the mitzvot of mishlo'ach manot and matanot le'evyonim. 

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Those of us who are fortunate enough to have brought up children, or to have taught them, will know the empirical truth of Rabbi Wein's words. A small child will generally derive much more satisfaction from being able to do something for himself than if that same thing is done for him by an adult. And some of us are blessed with the ability to derive pleasure from doing things for ourselves even when we are no longer small children.

Giving generously: Terumah 5785

At a time of financial hardship, Moshe’s call for donations in this week’s parsha is timely, if not in essence challenging, and here are many reasons why people do or don’t contribute to charities and educational and social causes. Moshe offers no convincing reason why he is appealing for monetary help, other than that it is God’s wish that the people of Israel become a nation of donors, each person according to the generous instinct that resides within his or her heart. The Lord phrases His appeal as being a donation symbolically to God Himself. “Let them take for Me” are the words that seek to justify this appeal. In other words, we give because of our relationship with our Creator, and not only because of the justice of causes that require our help.

 Charity is a Torah commandment, one with which we can empathize and claim to understand and appreciate. However, at the root of this commandment is the bald fact that we are bidden to imitate our Creator, and our definition of God is one of goodness and charity.

The Torah tells us that God is with the widow and the orphans, even though we don’t know why He made them such. But it is our duty to pursue goodness and charity as the Lord commands us to do. At the end of the day, charity is an inexplicable commandment. The reason that there is so much charity in the world is that there is, somewhere deep within our consciences and souls, a streak of human kindness and goodness. We really wish to be charitable people.

Since we have freedom of will and choice, we can overcome our inner instincts of goodness, becoming miserly and even cruel towards others and to ourselves as well. Just as there are base instincts that lurk within us, and we possess within ourselves the freedom to overcome and deny them, so too does this power of freedom of will and choice allow us to sublimate our good and charitable instincts. There is a well- known statement of the rabbis that many people regret being put upon for a charitable contribution and yet feel a deep satisfaction within themselves after they have in fact made that contribution. It is that deep instinct towards being charitable that engenders satisfaction after a person has done a charitable deed or made a charitable contribution.

 The Torah wishes to encourage our charitable instinct. It resorts to making what is essentially a voluntary act one that becomes mandatory, being a mechanism to allow the good within us to burst forth. The holy institutions of Israel can only be constructed with the charitable instincts of the Jewish people.

Shabbat shalom, Rabbi Berel Wein

The Library of Everything, by Rabbi David Ebner (Book of the Month, Adar 5785)

The Library of Everything: Poems and Torah Commentaries is one of the most unusual books in Beit Knesset Hanassi’s collection. It consists of a set of creative and imaginative items, in prose and verse, by Rabbi Dr David Ebner—Rosh Yeshiva, Yeshivat Eretz HaTzvi, Jerusalem. According to the publishers, ATID:

This collection of original poetry on Jewish and religious themes will enlighten and stimulate readers to an array of issues-Jewish learning and teaching; textual understanding and interpretation; prayer, salvation and repentance; and the Holocaust.

Each of the twenty-one poems is accompanied by a short essay, notes, or an excursus, through which the author unfolds the genesis of the poem: how it was distilled from classical Jewish sources, or—moving in the opposite direction—drawing the reader's attention to implications and applications of the poem to contemporary religious life and experience.

Rabbi Ebner has taken an active interest in integration between Jewish studies and English literature. This is apparent to the reader of this slim (94 page) tome, from which the author’s warm and engaging personality can be instantly discerned.

The Mishkan: A Sanctuary of Divine Connection and Symbolism

 One of the most difficult things for us today is to understand and appreciate the rule of the Mishkan, the holy tabernacle that contained the ark of the covenant and the mysterious cherubs that were placed on top of it. In the following piece, our member Rabbi Paul Bloom tackles the topic:

The Mishkan: A Sanctuary of Divine Connection and Symbolism.

וְעָ֥שׂוּ לִ֖י מִקְדָּ֑שׁ וְשָׁכַנְתִּ֖י בְּתוֹכָֽם׃

And let them make Me a sanctuary that I may dwell among them.

With just five words, the Torah introduces us to a transformative era in the life of Klal Yisrael. Having journeyed through the experiences of Yetziat Mitzrayim, Matan Torah, the miracles, and the revelation of Hashem, Bnei Yisrael are now called upon to undertake a collective project—the construction of the Mishkan. This was no ordinary building; every detail was imbued with profound spiritual significance.

The Divine Wisdom in the Mishkan

The Talmud (Berachot 55a) teaches us about the extraordinary wisdom of Bezalel, the chief artisan of the Mishkan. Chazal explain that Hashem created the world through the letters of the Aleph-Bet, and Bezalel was granted the unique insight to understand these divine forces. Rashi expounds that Bezalel possessed Chochmah, Binah, and Da’at—Ruach Hakodesh—a sacred knowledge that enabled him to construct the Mishkan as a microcosm of the universe. Just as the physical world was created to manifest Hashem’s presence, the Mishkan served as a concentrated space for sanctity, permeating all aspects of existence with kedushah.

The Aron HaKodesh: The Heart of the Mishkan

At the very core of the Mishkan stood the Aron HaKodesh, a sealed sacred ark housing the Luchot HaBrit—the tablets Moshe received at Har Sinai. The Aron was hidden away in the Kodesh HaKodashim, accessible only once a year on Yom Kippur by the Kohen Gadol. Despite its physical concealment, the Aron served as the spiritual epicenter of the Mishkan, radiating kedushah throughout. 

The construction of the Mishkan and later the Beit HaMikdash stands at the center of Jewish history and law. The Rambam, in Hilchot Beit HaBechirah (Chapter 1), counts the mitzvah of building the Beit HaMikdash as one of the 613 commandments. Every generation is bound by this commandment, though not every era has been capable of fulfilling it. From Shlomo HaMelech’s construction of the first Beit HaMikdash to Ezra’s leadership in building the second, each iteration of this sacred structure fulfilled a divine directive—to establish a spiritual epicenter for Klal Yisrael.

The Gold Within and Without

The Torah specifies that the Aron was made of wood, overlaid with gold inside and out (Shemot 25:11). The Gemara in Yoma 72b extracts a vital lesson from this detail: one who represents Torah must be “tocho kebaro”—their inner self must match their outer persona. True Torah scholars must live lives of authenticity and integrity, embodying the values they espouse. The Rambam in Hilchot De’ot (Chapter 2) extends this idea, prohibiting deceitful behavior and emphasizing the necessity of inner and outer consistency in one’s character.

Additionally, the combination of wood and gold itself holds meaning. Wood symbolizes growth and adaptability, while gold represents stability and permanence. The interplay between these materials mirrors the dual nature of Torah and halacha—immutable principles that must be applied with wisdom and sensitivity to the evolving needs of each generation. Rav Kook encapsulated this idea in his axiom, HaYashan Yischadesh v’HaChadash Yiskadesh—the ancient must be revitalized, and the new must be sanctified. The eternal truths of Torah must be dynamically applied to the realities of contemporary Jewish life.

The Permanence of the Poles

One of the unique aspects of the Aron was that its carrying poles were never to be removed (Shemot 25:15). Unlike the other vessels of the Mishkan, which had removable poles for transport, the Aron’s poles remained fixed even after the Beit HaMikdash was established. This detail carries deep significance.

1. The Mobility of Torah – Rav Hirsch explains that the fixed poles symbolize the universal and portable nature of Torah. While the Menorah, Mizbe’ach, and Shulchan were rooted in the Beit HaMikdash, the Torah is not confined to any one place; it travels with Klal Yisrael throughout history and across all lands.
   
   
2. Supporters of Torah – The Chatam Sofer interprets the poles as representing the machzikei haTorah—those who support Torah learning. Just as the Aron itself housed the Luchot, symbolizing the scholars who dedicate their lives to Torah, the poles represent the benefactors who enable its continuity. Their attachment to Torah is eternal, ensuring its transmission across generations.
   
   
3. The Aron Carries Its Bearers – A remarkable idea found in Sotah 35a teaches that the Aron was noso et nosov—it carried those who carried it. This profound notion underscores that those who dedicate themselves to Torah, whether through study or support, are ultimately upheld by it. Torah does not merely demand effort; it sustains and elevates those who cleave to it.

Rabbi Jonathan Sacks ztz”l once illustrated this idea poignantly. At the conclusion of his tenure as Chief Rabbi of the UK, he was presented with a Sefer Torah as a parting gift. In his emotional response, he remarked, “You may think you see me carrying this Torah, but the truth is, it is carrying me.” This encapsulates the eternal truth of Klal Yisrael’s survival—the Torah is our foundation, our guide, and our sustainer.

The Mystery of the Keruvim

On the lid of the Aron were the two keruvim (cherubs). This is what the Torah says of them:

וְעָשִׂ֛יתָ שְׁנַ֥יִם כְּרֻבִ֖ים זָהָ֑ב מִקְשָׁה֙ תַּעֲשֶׂ֣ה אֹתָ֔ם מִשְּׁנֵ֖י קְצ֥וֹת הַכַּפֹּֽרֶת׃

Make two cherubim of gold—make them of hammered work—at the two ends of the cover.

וַ֠עֲשֵׂ֠ה כְּר֨וּב אֶחָ֤ד מִקָּצָה֙ מִזֶּ֔ה וּכְרוּב־אֶחָ֥ד מִקָּצָ֖ה מִזֶּ֑ה מִן־הַכַּפֹּ֛רֶת תַּעֲשׂ֥וּ אֶת־הַכְּרֻבִ֖ים עַל־שְׁנֵ֥י קְצוֹתָֽיו׃

Make one cherub at one end and the other cherub at the other end; of one piece with the cover shall you make the cherubim at its two ends.

וְהָי֣וּ הַכְּרֻבִים֩ פֹּרְשֵׂ֨י כְנָפַ֜יִם לְמַ֗עְלָה סֹכְכִ֤ים בְּכַנְפֵיהֶם֙ עַל־הַכַּפֹּ֔רֶת וּפְנֵיהֶ֖ם אִ֣ישׁ אֶל־אָחִ֑יו אֶ֨ל־הַכַּפֹּ֔רֶת יִהְי֖וּ פְּנֵ֥י הַכְּרֻבִֽים׃

The cherubim shall have their wings spread out above, shielding the cover with their wings. They shall confront each other, the faces of the cherubim being turned toward the cover.

וְנָתַתָּ֧ אֶת־הַכַּפֹּ֛רֶת עַל־הָאָרֹ֖ן מִלְמָ֑עְלָה וְאֶל־הָ֣אָרֹ֔ן תִּתֵּן֙ אֶת־הָ֣עֵדֻ֔ת אֲשֶׁ֥ר אֶתֵּ֖ן אֵלֶֽיךָ׃

Place the cover on top of the Ark, after depositing inside the Ark the Pact that I will give you.

וְנוֹעַדְתִּ֣י לְךָ֮ שָׁם֒ וְדִבַּרְתִּ֨י אִתְּךָ֜ מֵעַ֣ל הַכַּפֹּ֗רֶת מִבֵּין֙ שְׁנֵ֣י הַכְּרֻבִ֔ים אֲשֶׁ֖ר עַל־אֲר֣וֹן הָעֵדֻ֑ת אֵ֣ת כׇּל־אֲשֶׁ֧ר אֲצַוֶּ֛ה אוֹתְךָ֖ אֶל־בְּנֵ֥י יִשְׂרָאֵֽל׃

There I will meet with you, and I will impart to you—from above the cover, from between the two cherubim that are on top of the Ark of the Pact—all that I will command you concerning the Israelite people.

One of the most enigmatic elements of the Aron was the presence of the Keruvim—two golden, cherubic figures mounted atop the Aron’s cover. The Torah describes them as having wings that stretched upwards toward Hashem while their faces turned toward each other and downward toward the Luchot. This imagery carries deep symbolic meaning.

The placement of the Keruvim raises a fundamental question: How could the Torah, which explicitly forbids the crafting of graven images (Second Commandment), instruct the creation of these sculpted figures? The Chizkuni offers an intriguing explanation. The Mishkan, and later the Beit HaMikdash, existed in a different spiritual dimension—a sanctified realm where certain prohibitions, such as melachah on Shabbat (there was baking, slaughtering, lighting the menorah) and sha’atnez in the Kohanim’s garments, were suspended. In this space, even the prohibition against graven images did not apply.

The Meaning Behind the Keruvim

Many commentators offer profound insights into the symbolism of the Keruvim:

1. Rav Samson Raphael Hirsch: The two Keruvim represent the dual dimensions of Torah observance—mitzvot bein adam laMakom (between man and God) and mitzvot bein adam lechavero (between man and fellow man (chesed, tzedakah). Their facing position signifies that these two aspects must be integrated for a complete Torah life. That is the spiritual and generosity of Torah: emunah and chesed
   
   
2. Ba’al HaTurim, based on Pirkei D’Rebbe Eliezer: The Keruvim symbolize the dynamic nature of Torah study. They face each other, mirroring the way Torah scholars engage in dialogue, sharpening their understanding through Torah discussion. The Torah is not just a written text (Torah She’bichtav) housed within the Aron, but also a living, ever-expanding oral tradition (Torah Sheba’al Peh), embodied in the Keruvim’s interaction.
   
   
3. The Ba’al Shem Tov and Chassidic Thought: The Keruvim reflect three fundamental loves—Ahavat Hashem (love of God), Ahavat Yisrael (love of the Jewish people), and Ahavat HaTorah (love of Torah). The Keruvim’s wings pointed heavenward, symbolizing our yearning for closeness to Hashem. Their faces turned toward each other, representing the deep connection between fellow Jews. Their gaze also directed toward the Luchot, emphasizing the centrality of Torah in Jewish life.

The Mishkan as a Model for the Future

Throughout Bnei Yisrael’s forty years in the wilderness, Hashem’s voice would emanate from between the Keruvim when communicating with Moshe Rabbeinu. This reinforces the idea that the Mishkan was not merely a physical structure but a space where divine presence, Torah, and love converged.

The Mishkan teaches us that holiness is not confined to grandiose displays but is found in the details—each aspect carrying divine intention. The construction of the Mishkan and the Beit HaMikdash was not merely about creating a physical space for divine worship; it was about establishing a perpetual source of inspiration for Am Yisrael. The Aron, with its inner and outer gold, its blend of permanence and adaptability, and its permanently affixed poles, embodies the eternal values of Torah—values that demand integrity, support, and commitment. As we reflect on the meaning of the Aron HaKodesh, we are reminded of our duty to live lives of authenticity, to support and sustain Torah learning, and to recognize that ultimately, it is Torah that carries us through the challenges and triumphs of Jewish history.

The  Keruvim symbolizes the integration of Torah observance, love for one another, and a connection to Hashem which remains the cornerstone of Jewish life today.

 May we all draw inspiration from the Mishkan’s lessons, striving to bring sanctity into our own lives and communities.

The Mishkan: Cherubs, Divine Connection and Symbolism

One of the most difficult things for us today is to understand and appreciate the rule of the Mishkan, the holy tabernacle that contained the ark of the covenant and the mysterious cherubs that were placed on top of it. In the following piece, our member Rabbi Paul Bloom bravely tackles the topic:

The Mishkan: A Sanctuary of Divine Connection and Symbolism

וְעָ֥שׂוּ לִ֖י מִקְדָּ֑שׁ וְשָׁכַנְתִּ֖י בְּתוֹכָֽם׃

And let them make Me a sanctuary that I may dwell among them.

With just five words, the Torah introduces us to a transformative era in the life of Klal Yisrael. Having journeyed through the experiences of Yetziat Mitzrayim, Matan Torah, the miracles, and the revelation of Hashem, Bnei Yisrael are now called upon to undertake a collective project—the construction of the Mishkan. This was no ordinary building; every detail was imbued with profound spiritual significance.

The Divine Wisdom in the Mishkan

The Talmud (Berachot 55a) teaches us about the extraordinary wisdom of Bezalel, the chief artisan of the Mishkan. Chazal explain that Hashem created the world through the letters of the Aleph-Bet, and Bezalel was granted the unique insight to understand these divine forces. Rashi expounds that Bezalel possessed Chochmah, Binah, and Da’at—Ruach Hakodesh—a sacred knowledge that enabled him to construct the Mishkan as a microcosm of the universe. Just as the physical world was created to manifest Hashem’s presence, the Mishkan served as a concentrated space for sanctity, permeating all aspects of existence with kedushah.

The Aron HaKodesh: The Heart of the Mishkan

At the very core of the Mishkan stood the Aron HaKodesh, a sealed sacred ark housing the Luchot HaBrit—the tablets Moshe received at Har Sinai. The Aron was hidden away in the Kodesh HaKodashim, accessible only once a year on Yom Kippur by the Kohen Gadol. Despite its physical concealment, the Aron served as the spiritual epicenter of the Mishkan, radiating kedushah throughout. 

The construction of the Mishkan and later the Beit HaMikdash stands at the center of Jewish history and law. The Rambam, in Hilchot Beit HaBechirah (Chapter 1), counts the mitzvah of building the Beit HaMikdash as one of the 613 commandments. Every generation is bound by this commandment, though not every era has been capable of fulfilling it. From Shlomo HaMelech’s construction of the first Beit HaMikdash to Ezra’s leadership in building the second, each iteration of this sacred structure fulfilled a divine directive—to establish a spiritual epicenter for Klal Yisrael.

The Gold Within and Without

The Torah specifies that the Aron was made of wood, overlaid with gold inside and out (Shemot 25:11). The Gemara in Yoma 72b extracts a vital lesson from this detail: one who represents Torah must be “tocho kebaro”—their inner self must match their outer persona. True Torah scholars must live lives of authenticity and integrity, embodying the values they espouse. The Rambam in Hilchot De’ot (Chapter 2) extends this idea, prohibiting deceitful behavior and emphasizing the necessity of inner and outer consistency in one’s character.

Additionally, the combination of wood and gold itself holds meaning. Wood symbolizes growth and adaptability, while gold represents stability and permanence. The interplay between these materials mirrors the dual nature of Torah and halacha—immutable principles that must be applied with wisdom and sensitivity to the evolving needs of each generation. Rav Kook encapsulated this idea in his axiom, HaYashan Yischadesh v’HaChadash Yiskadesh—the ancient must be revitalized, and the new must be sanctified. The eternal truths of Torah must be dynamically applied to the realities of contemporary Jewish life.

The Permanence of the Poles

One of the unique aspects of the Aron was that its carrying poles were never to be removed (Shemot 25:15). Unlike the other vessels of the Mishkan, which had removable poles for transport, the Aron’s poles remained fixed even after the Beit HaMikdash was established. This detail carries deep significance.

1. The Mobility of Torah – Rav Hirsch explains that the fixed poles symbolize the universal and portable nature of Torah. While the Menorah, Mizbe’ach, and Shulchan were rooted in the Beit HaMikdash, the Torah is not confined to any one place; it travels with Klal Yisrael throughout history and across all lands.
   
   
2. Supporters of Torah – The Chatam Sofer interprets the poles as representing the machzikei haTorah—those who support Torah learning. Just as the Aron itself housed the Luchot, symbolizing the scholars who dedicate their lives to Torah, the poles represent the benefactors who enable its continuity. Their attachment to Torah is eternal, ensuring its transmission across generations.
   
   
3. The Aron Carries Its Bearers – A remarkable idea found in Sotah 35a teaches that the Aron was noso et nosov—it carried those who carried it. This profound notion underscores that those who dedicate themselves to Torah, whether through study or support, are ultimately upheld by it. Torah does not merely demand effort; it sustains and elevates those who cleave to it.

Rabbi Jonathan Sacks ztz”l once illustrated this idea poignantly. At the conclusion of his tenure as Chief Rabbi of the UK, he was presented with a Sefer Torah as a parting gift. In his emotional response, he remarked, “You may think you see me carrying this Torah, but the truth is, it is carrying me.” This encapsulates the eternal truth of Klal Yisrael’s survival—the Torah is our foundation, our guide, and our sustainer.

The Mystery of the Keruvim

On the lid of the Aron were the two keruvim (cherubs). This is what the Torah says of them:

וְעָשִׂ֛יתָ שְׁנַ֥יִם כְּרֻבִ֖ים זָהָ֑ב מִקְשָׁה֙ תַּעֲשֶׂ֣ה אֹתָ֔ם מִשְּׁנֵ֖י קְצ֥וֹת הַכַּפֹּֽרֶת׃

Make two cherubim of gold—make them of hammered work—at the two ends of the cover.

וַ֠עֲשֵׂ֠ה כְּר֨וּב אֶחָ֤ד מִקָּצָה֙ מִזֶּ֔ה וּכְרוּב־אֶחָ֥ד מִקָּצָ֖ה מִזֶּ֑ה מִן־הַכַּפֹּ֛רֶת תַּעֲשׂ֥וּ אֶת־הַכְּרֻבִ֖ים עַל־שְׁנֵ֥י קְצוֹתָֽיו׃

Make one cherub at one end and the other cherub at the other end; of one piece with the cover shall you make the cherubim at its two ends.

וְהָי֣וּ הַכְּרֻבִים֩ פֹּרְשֵׂ֨י כְנָפַ֜יִם לְמַ֗עְלָה סֹכְכִ֤ים בְּכַנְפֵיהֶם֙ עַל־הַכַּפֹּ֔רֶת וּפְנֵיהֶ֖ם אִ֣ישׁ אֶל־אָחִ֑יו אֶ֨ל־הַכַּפֹּ֔רֶת יִהְי֖וּ פְּנֵ֥י הַכְּרֻבִֽים׃

The cherubim shall have their wings spread out above, shielding the cover with their wings. They shall confront each other, the faces of the cherubim being turned toward the cover.

וְנָתַתָּ֧ אֶת־הַכַּפֹּ֛רֶת עַל־הָאָרֹ֖ן מִלְמָ֑עְלָה וְאֶל־הָ֣אָרֹ֔ן תִּתֵּן֙ אֶת־הָ֣עֵדֻ֔ת אֲשֶׁ֥ר אֶתֵּ֖ן אֵלֶֽיךָ׃

Place the cover on top of the Ark, after depositing inside the Ark the Pact that I will give you.

וְנוֹעַדְתִּ֣י לְךָ֮ שָׁם֒ וְדִבַּרְתִּ֨י אִתְּךָ֜ מֵעַ֣ל הַכַּפֹּ֗רֶת מִבֵּין֙ שְׁנֵ֣י הַכְּרֻבִ֔ים אֲשֶׁ֖ר עַל־אֲר֣וֹן הָעֵדֻ֑ת אֵ֣ת כׇּל־אֲשֶׁ֧ר אֲצַוֶּ֛ה אוֹתְךָ֖ אֶל־בְּנֵ֥י יִשְׂרָאֵֽל׃

There I will meet with you, and I will impart to you—from above the cover, from between the two cherubim that are on top of the Ark of the Pact—all that I will command you concerning the Israelite people.

One of the most enigmatic elements of the Aron was the presence of the Keruvim—two golden, cherubic figures mounted atop the Aron’s cover. The Torah describes them as having wings that stretched upwards toward Hashem while their faces turned toward each other and downward toward the Luchot. This imagery carries deep symbolic meaning.

The placement of the Keruvim raises a fundamental question: How could the Torah, which explicitly forbids the crafting of graven images (Second Commandment), instruct the creation of these sculpted figures? The Chizkuni offers an intriguing explanation. The Mishkan, and later the Beit HaMikdash, existed in a different spiritual dimension—a sanctified realm where certain prohibitions, such as melachah on Shabbat (there was baking, slaughtering, lighting the menorah) and sha’atnez in the Kohanim’s garments, were suspended. In this space, even the prohibition against graven images did not apply.

The Meaning Behind the Keruvim

Many commentators offer profound insights into the symbolism of the Keruvim:

1. Rav Samson Raphael Hirsch: The two Keruvim represent the dual dimensions of Torah observance—mitzvot bein adam laMakom (between man and God) and mitzvot bein adam lechavero (between man and fellow man (chesed, tzedakah). Their facing position signifies that these two aspects must be integrated for a complete Torah life. That is the spiritual and generosity of Torah: emunah and chesed
   
   
2. Ba’al HaTurim, based on Pirkei D’Rebbe Eliezer: The Keruvim symbolize the dynamic nature of Torah study. They face each other, mirroring the way Torah scholars engage in dialogue, sharpening their understanding through Torah discussion. The Torah is not just a written text (Torah She’bichtav) housed within the Aron, but also a living, ever-expanding oral tradition (Torah Sheba’al Peh), embodied in the Keruvim’s interaction.
   
   
3. The Ba’al Shem Tov and Chassidic Thought: The Keruvim reflect three fundamental loves—Ahavat Hashem (love of God), Ahavat Yisrael (love of the Jewish people), and Ahavat HaTorah (love of Torah). The Keruvim’s wings pointed heavenward, symbolizing our yearning for closeness to Hashem. Their faces turned toward each other, representing the deep connection between fellow Jews. Their gaze also directed toward the Luchot, emphasizing the centrality of Torah in Jewish life.

The Mishkan as a Model for the Future

Throughout Bnei Yisrael’s forty years in the wilderness, Hashem’s voice would emanate from between the Keruvim when communicating with Moshe Rabbeinu. This reinforces the idea that the Mishkan was not merely a physical structure but a space where divine presence, Torah, and love converged.

The Mishkan teaches us that holiness is not confined to grandiose displays but is found in the details—each aspect carrying divine intention. The construction of the Mishkan and the Beit HaMikdash was not merely about creating a physical space for divine worship; it was about establishing a perpetual source of inspiration for Am Yisrael. The Aron, with its inner and outer gold, its blend of permanence and adaptability, and its permanently affixed poles, embodies the eternal values of Torah—values that demand integrity, support, and commitment. As we reflect on the meaning of the Aron HaKodesh, we are reminded of our duty to live lives of authenticity, to support and sustain Torah learning, and to recognize that ultimately, it is Torah that carries us through the challenges and triumphs of Jewish history.

The  Keruvim symbolizes the integration of Torah observance, love for one another, and a connection to Hashem which remains the cornerstone of Jewish life today.

 May we all draw inspiration from the Mishkan’s lessons, striving to bring sanctity into our own lives and communities.

Purim three times over!

Over the past few days, several members have been asking exactly what’s going on this year, with Purim spread over three days. To clarify the issue, the position is like this:

If you live in any city that was walled at the time of Joshua (this traditionally includes Jerusalem), Purim is normally celebrated on 15 Adar, a day after it is celebrated everywhere else. This late Purim is called Shushan Purim.

Regular Purim can never fall on a Shabbat, but Shushan Purim can.  This is a bit of a problem since we can’t read the Megillah on a Shabbat. The Gemara advances several reasons for this, one being that we might have a problem reading it so we carry it more than four amot through a public throughfare when seeking the assistance of a chacham.

How do we spread the mitzvot of Purim across our three-day festival? The Shulchan Aruch [Orach Chayim 688:6] explains that we read the Megillah on the Thursday night and Friday morning. Then, on Shabbat, we lein the parsha of Amalek out of a second sefer and recite Al HaNissim. On the following day, Sunday, we have our Purim seudah and give mishloach manot.

On Tuesday and Thursday evening of this week, between Mincha and Maariv, Rabbi Kenigsberg spoke in Shul on this very topic. These instructive shiurim can be accessed on our YouTube channel here and here respectively.

There’s more to come: This coming Sunday, in place of the regular Tzurba shiur, Rabbi Kenigsberg will be devoting an entire hour to this topic, starting at 10 am in Shul and on Zoom.