It cannot happen. What the nations would say!

 Here's a delightful recollection by one of our more senior members, Professor George S. Moschytz, of a devar Torah by Rabbi Joseph Soloveitchik on this week's parashah.

Some years ago, I was in the USA for a technical meeting and spent Shabbat in Boston. It was Shabbat Ki Tisa and I decided to walk to the Shul that I knew Rabbi Joseph Soloveitchik (“the Rav”) would attend.

Ki Tisa is the sedra in which, after the Golden Calf incident, Moshe ‘reasons’ with Hashem why he should not destroy the Jewish people and instead make the descendants of Moshe into a great nation (Shemot 32:11-13). His argument was: why should the Mitzri’im say,

“He brought them out with evil intent, to kill them in the mountains and to annihilate them from the surface of the earth?”

The Rav asks (in his beautiful Lithuanian accent): “What kind of an argument is that to Hashem? Why should Hashem care about the gossip of the Egyptians, or of anyone else for that matter?” The Rav’s answer: ‘Since mankind is supposed to follow, as far as possible, in the ways of Hashem (‘Imitatio Dei’), and a principle of our ethics is that man is not free to do what he likes with his reputation, or, in the words of the Rav, “man’s reputation is not his own to do with it what he likes”, it follows that Hashem must also, so to speak, guard his reputation vis-à-vis mankind!

Fast forward to our time. Hashem has permitted the establishment of the Jewish State. He has permitted the return of millions of Jews from all over the world—from a few hundred thousand in 1948 to many millions today. Yet any kind of nuclear attack on Israel, presumably on heavily populated areas, would destroy the country forever.

Nuclear pollution has a so-called half-time survival rate of thousands of years.

A small country like ours would be utterly destroyed. According to the Rav’s comments, it cannot happen! What would the nations surrounding us say….?

Responding to global barbarism: insights from Purim and beyond

As we mark a second Purim at war with Hamas and Hezbollah, writes our member Rabbi Paul Bloom, we are once again confronted with the age-old struggle against hatred and oppression. The Purim narrative, with its cast of characters—Haman, Achashverosh, and the resilient Jewish people—offers profound insights into our response to the barbarism of Hamas and Iran.

The Plot Unfolds: Haman’s Hatred and Achashverosh’s Dilemma

Haman, driven by irrational animosity, sought to annihilate the Jewish people. His malevolence knew no bounds; he envisioned a cruel and humiliating end for an entire community. Yet Achashverosh, the Persian king, hesitated. He rejected Haman’s brutal plan, opting for a more restrained approach. The Talmud (Megillah 14a) highlights Achashverosh’s sensitivity, noting that while he allowed Haman's decree, he was not as bloodthirsty himself.

This early instance of anti-Semitism echoes through history. Today, anti-Semitism persists in politics, international forums, sports, entertainment, education, and even within our own governments and social circles. Worse, it appears to be intensifying. How do we respond to this rising tide of hatred?

Drawing Strength from Our Identity

The Jews of Persia faced annihilation, yet they did not retreat into anonymity. Instead, they embraced their Jewish identity more fervently. In the face of irrational hate, they remained steadfast in their faith and traditions. Their response teaches us a vital lesson: our identity is not defined by external forces but by the blessings of happiness, family, love, life, and the moral compass bestowed upon us by the Torah.

This phenomenon is unfolding in Israel today. We hear stories of hostages and their families rediscovering their faith—saying Shema for the first time, lighting Shabbat candles, donning Tefillin and Tzitzit, and celebrating Shabbat and Yom Tov. This war has ignited a Jewish awakening.

We do not combat emptiness by becoming more empty. Instead, we stand proudly and defiantly, trusting in Hashem and remaining loyal to our people. Our resilience lies not in assimilation but in unwavering commitment.

Beyond Identity: Political and Military Measures

Yet the Jews of Persia did not rely solely on faith. They took practical steps to protect themselves. Similarly, in our complex world, we must blend hope with action. Here are some modern parallels:

●      Advocacy and Education: We combat ignorance with knowledge. Educating both Jews and non-Jews about our history, culture, and contributions helps dispel misconceptions. Advocacy organizations play a crucial role in countering anti-Semitism.

●      Community Unity: Like the Jews of Persia, we must stand together. Our strength lies in unity. When anti-Semitism rears its head, we must respond as a cohesive community, amplifying our voices.

●      Political Engagement: We engage in the political arena, advocating for policies that promote tolerance, inclusivity, and justice. Our votes matter; they shape the world we leave for future generations.

●      Military Response: Just as the Jews of Persia protected themselves militarily, the IDF—guided by Hashem—defends the Jews of Israel. The bravery and morality of the IDF are unparalleled. We have witnessed open miracles—from protection against hundreds of missiles to bombs failing to detonate in crowded areas.

The IDF: Defending Our Existence with Unprecedented Ethics

The Israel Defense Forces (IDF) embody the fusion of faith and action. Their mission extends beyond military defense; they uphold ethical warfare even when facing a barbaric enemy. Colonel Richard Kemp, former Commander of British Forces in Afghanistan, has stated that the IDF surpasses other armies in safeguarding civilian rights during combat.

Unparalleled Measures for Civilian Safety

• Advanced Warnings: The IDF takes extraordinary steps to warn Gaza civilians before striking. They drop millions of leaflets, broadcast radio messages, send texts, and make tens of thousands of phone calls. Imagine: Israeli soldiers personally calling Gazans, urging them to evacuate. No army in history has ever directly informed its enemy where bombs will fall.

• Risking Their Own Safety: IDF missions that could have neutralized Hamas military capabilities were often aborted to prevent civilian casualties. This self-imposed restraint increases risks for Israeli soldiers and citizens but underscores the IDF’s commitment to preserving innocent lives.

• Combating Misinformation: Despite these efforts, antisemites accuse Israel of genocide. Yet the truth is clear—the IDF fights not only to defend Israel but to uphold humanity.

• Feeding the Enemy: No other army in history has provided food, water, and fuel to its enemy—especially one actively seeking its destruction.

Drawing Inspiration from Haman and Purim

Haman was consumed by an insatiable void, an emptiness that ultimately led to his downfall. Yet his malevolence gave birth to Purim—a holiday where Jewish children joyfully drown out his name with groggers. Why? Because we refuse to be swallowed by darkness. Instead, we fight evil with light, filling voids with hope.

Our Miraculous Victory

We look forward to soon celebrating another miraculous victory—the defeat of Hamas and Iranian aggression, along with the safe return of our hostages. This triumph will not only mark the protection of the Jewish people but serve as a victory for the entire civilized world. It will symbolize our resilience against cruelty and barbarism.

Conclusion: A Call to Action

As we honor Purim, let us remember that our fight extends beyond borders. The IDF’s mission echoes through history: to protect lives, uphold justice, and bring light to a world often shrouded in darkness. May we draw inspiration from our ancient past and apply it to our present reality. May we remain unyielding in our identity, compassionate in our actions, and resolute in our pursuit of a world free from barbarism.

Shabbat: a pllar of Jewish identity and faith

Though this week’s Torah reading, Ki Tisa, is best known for the episode of the Golden Calf and its aftermath, it has some positive content too when it addresses the all-important mitzvah of Shabbat. Rabbi Paul Bloom explains.

This week's parsha, Ki Tisa, presents the mitzvah of Shabbat in a profound and unique light, offering insights that deepen our understanding beyond what has been previously discussed. Although the concept of Shabbat had already been introduced at Marah, reaffirmed at Har Sinai, and reinforced through the giving of the manna in Parashat Beshalach, Ki Tisa brings additional dimensions to its significance.

One striking feature in this parsha is the reference to Shabbat in the plural form: "Shabtotai" (שבתותי). The Torah could have used the singular form, yet it deliberately chooses the plural, hinting at a dual aspect of Shabbat that requires exploration.

Additionally, the Torah states, "Loda’at ki ani Hashem mekadishchem" (לדעת כי אני ה' מקדשכם), implying that Shabbat is not merely about observance but also about attaining a new mindset, a deeper awareness of our relationship with Hashem. It is through Shabbat that we gain an elevated understanding of our connection to the Divine.

The Ramban explains this duality of Shabbat as stemming from the two expressions found in the Aseret Hadibrot: "Zachor" (זכור) in the first set of commandments and "Shamor" (שמור) in the second. He elucidates that "Zachor" represents Ahavat Hashem (love of God), while "Shamor" signifies Yirat Hashem (fear of God). Observing Shabbat involves both dimensions: Yirah, expressed through the meticulous guarding of its sanctity, and Ahavah, reflected in the joy and positive remembrance of the day. This synthesis of love and reverence encapsulates the essence of Shabbat.

The Kli Yakar approaches the dual nature of Shabbat from a different perspective. He posits that Shabbat connects us both to the beginning of time—Ma’aseh Bereishit (the act of Creation)—and to the ultimate destiny of mankind—Ge’ulah Acharonah (the final redemption). Thus Shabbat serves as a bridge between the origins of existence and its ultimate fulfillment, offering us a glimpse of both past and future. This is symbolized in the korbanot of Shabbat, the "shnei kevasim" (two lambs), which reflect this dual connection.

Rashi, in his commentary, adds another layer of understanding, explaining that "loda’at" (לדעת) signifies that the nations of the world recognize the unique status of Shabbat as the defining covenant between Hashem and Klal Yisrael. Shabbat is our national hallmark, a distinction that sets us apart from all other nations.

The Kli Yakar further notes an interesting pattern in the structure of the Torah’s discussion of the Mishkan and Shabbat. The Torah dedicates six chapters to Hashem instructing Moshe regarding the construction of the Mishkan and another six chapters to Moshe relaying these details to Bnei Yisrael. However, there is a key difference between these two sequences: when Hashem commands Moshe, Shabbat is mentioned at the end, after the details of the Mishkan. Yet when Moshe conveys these laws to the people in Parashat Vayakhel, he first mentions Shabbat and only afterward discusses the Mishkan.

This reversal is significant. When Hashem speaks to Moshe, He first emphasizes the Mishkan, highlighting the presence of the Shechinah among Bnei Yisrael. Only afterward does He introduce Shabbat as an eternal covenant. In contrast, when Moshe addresses the people, he first underscores the importance of Shabbat before discussing the Mishkan, emphasizing that spiritual connection to Hashem takes precedence over the physical construction of the sanctuary. This distinction underscores a fundamental principle: while the Mishkan is a place of holiness, Shabbat is a time of holiness. The sanctity of Shabbat is intrinsic and unchanging, whereas the Mishkan, though sacred, is a physical entity subject to destruction.

This idea aligns with a well-known teaching from Chazal regarding the structure of various mitzvot in the Torah. The Gemara in Berachot (6a) discusses the reciprocal relationship between Hashem and Klal Yisrael, stating that just as we declare Hashem’s oneness in Kriat Shema, so too does Hashem "praise" Bnei Yisrael. This reciprocal recognition is reflected in the prioritization of Shabbat when Moshe speaks to the nation—emphasizing that before we engage in any physical construction, we must first acknowledge our spiritual foundation.

A parallel concept is found in the way we refer to Pesach. While the Torah refers to the holiday as "Chag HaMatzot", emphasizing our obedience in eating matzah, we commonly refer to it as "Pesach," highlighting Hashem’s kindness in passing over our homes during the plague. This linguistic distinction mirrors the relationship between Hashem and Bnei Yisrael—each side recognizing and honoring the greatness of the other.

In conclusion, Parashat Ki Tisa presents Shabbat not merely as a day of rest, but as a fundamental pillar of Jewish identity and faith. It encapsulates both Yirat Hashem and Ahavat Hashem, connects us to the beginning and end of time, and serves as an eternal covenant distinguishing Klal Yisrael from the nations. The contrast between the divine and human perspectives on the Mishkan and Shabbat further illustrates the profound significance of this holy day, reinforcing its centrality in our spiritual lives.

Mordechai: loved by not quite all?

The hero of Purim, Mordechai, slips quietly into the end of the long baraita at Avot 6:6 that enumerates the 48 qualities that facilitate kinyan haTorah—acquisition of Torah learning. Although in our tradition Mordechai was a Talmid Chacham of sufficient status to be counted as a member of the Anshei Knesset HaGedolah (“The Men of the Great Assembly”: see Bartenura at Avot 1:1), we don’t actually learn anything from him in his cameo appearance in Avot—he appears in a proof verse that praises Esther for telling Achashverosh, in Mordechai’s name, of the regicidal plot hatched by Bigtan and Teresh (see Esther 2:22). But Mordechai has a handy didactic role in helping us understand a curious mishnah in Avot

In Avot 3:13 Rabbi Chanina ben Dosa teaches:

כֹּל שֶׁרֽוּחַ הַבְּרִיּוֹת נוֹחָה הֵימֶֽנּוּ, רֽוּחַ הַמָּקוֹם נוֹחָה הֵימֶֽנּוּ. וְכֹל שֶׁאֵין רֽוּחַ הַבְּרִיּוֹת נוֹחָה הֵימֶֽנּוּ, אֵין רֽוּחַ הַמָּקוֹם נוֹחָה הֵימֶֽנּוּ

Everyone who is pleasing to his fellow humans is pleasing to God. But everyone who does not please his fellow men does not please God.

Rabbi Chaim Druckman (Avot leBanim) quotes the 14^th century Spanish scholar Rabbi Yosef Even Nachmias, whose explanation of this mishnah—which he heard from the mouth of Rabbi Yitzchak Melamed—has been preserved for us in Midrash Shmuel.

Rabbi Nachmias points to the famous verse in Megillat Esther (Esther 10:3) that bemoans the fact that even Mordechai—who saved the Jews of Persia from genocide—was unable to achieve total popularity:

כִּ֣י  מׇרְדֳּכַ֣י הַיְּהוּדִ֗י מִשְׁנֶה֙ לַמֶּ֣לֶךְ אֲחַשְׁוֵר֔וֹשׁ וְגָדוֹל֙ לַיְּהוּדִ֔ים וְרָצ֖וּי לְרֹ֣ב אֶחָ֑יו דֹּרֵ֥שׁ טוֹב֙ לְעַמּ֔וֹ וְדֹבֵ֥ר שָׁל֖וֹם לְכׇל־זַרְעֽוֹ

For Mordechai the Jew was second to King Achashverosh, and great among the Jews and in favour with many of his brothers, for he worked for the good of his people and spoke for the peace of his whole nation.

Says Rabbi Nachmias, look closely at the words of Rabbi Chanina ben Dosa. He talks of כֹּל שֶׁרֽוּחַ הַבְּרִיּוֹת נוֹחָה הֵימֶֽנּו (“Everyone who is pleasing to his fellow humans”). What he does not say is כֹּל שֶׁרֽוּחַ כֹּל הַבְּרִיּוֹת נוֹחָה הֵימֶֽנּו (“Everyone who is pleasing to all his fellow humans”). In other words, however popular you are, there will always be someone whose feelings will run to contrary effect. This is human nature. You do your best but, as secular wisdom succinctly expresses it:

“You can please some of the people all of the time, you can please all of the people some of the time, but you can’t please all of the people all of the time”.

God knows the truth of this aphorism and Mordechai experiences it.

If you don’t believe this, try an experiment. Go to your browser and search “most popular people in the world”. Your results will include the following:

• Barack Obama
• Elon Musk
• Justin Bieber
• Taylor Swift
• Jennifer Lopez
• Jeff Bezos
• Dwayne Johnson
• Beyoncé

Even allowing for the eccentricities of Google Chrome, how many of these people can you honestly say is pleasing to you? If your score is lower than 8, you’ve proved the mishnah’s point.

Megillat Esther: a story for every generation

The Megillah of Esther tells us that the commemoration of the days of Purim will continue for all time; it will never disappear from Jewish life. Extraordinarily, the Talmud expands this statement to mean that even at the end of days, when other Torah commandments may no longer be needed given the exalted state of spirituality within the Jewish nation and mankind as a whole, the commemoration of Purim will continue.

 Jews live a constant Purim story that unfolds through every generation. The story of Purim, as it has come down to us through the writings of Mordechai and Esther, is replete with individuals whose personalities and actions both define the story and serve as prototypes for the later personalities, ideas, plots and events as they evolve. 

Every generation is charged with reviewing the story of Purim in its time, to view contemporary events and characters in the light of the grand heavenly scheme that Purim represents. Surveying today's scene and events, I think that I can identify someone who can fill the bill as far as King Achashveirosh is concerned. I can also cast someone as a humble and destroyed Queen Vashti. There is also an abundance of tyrants, Jew-haters and corrupt officials who certainly resemble Haman in our reconstruction of the Purim story. Even some of the minor characters of the Megillah, such as Charbonah, can be discerned in our current world. But my fantasy Purim story has not, as yet, been able to match the two main characters, the heroic figures that make the story of Purim timeless and eternal.

 Who is to play the roles of Mordechai and Esther in our current Purim scenario? Where are they when, seemingly, we need them most? Against all odds, ignoring advice from friends and threats from foes, Mordechai will not kneel nor bow down to false gods and cruel tyrants. Queen Esther for her part risks life and limb, position and honor, wealth and comfort, to come to the aid of her people in their hour of need. She is a Jewess first and only secondarily is she the queen of Persia. These two people, Mordechai and Esther, have set very high standards for Jewish behavior for later generations. Criticized from within and persecuted from without, they persevered and through their loyalty and commitment to the Torah and the Jewish nation, brought about salvation and triumph.

 There are such people amongst us today as well. Our task is to recognize and identify them, strengthen them in their efforts and support them against misguided other Jews and non-Jews. We all have the ability to do this.

 It apparently requires dangerous circumstances to bring about some semblance of Jewish unity. Even then, there are always those who dissent, carp and criticize. They were present in Persia long ago when the original Purim story unfolded, and they exist today in various forms, organizations and institutions. They profess support for great human goals and deep concern for the future of the Jewish people while at the same time taking actions that are detrimental to the Jewish present and totally dangerous to the Jewish future. Mordechai and Esther are a little too Jewish for them: too brash, too stubborn, too clannish and unnecessarily provocative. Mordechai and Esther in their time did not receive universal approbation. It is only history, in its unfolding of events, that has validated their heroism. We cannot expect that people who aspire to be Mordechai and Esther in our time should be universally accepted, loved, admired…. and followed.

 This is a reality of Jewish and human life that must be accepted and factored into the general pursuit of that which is good and noble. Hidden miracles do abound in our world, for us at any rate. Anyone who has the good fortune of living in the Land of Israel today instinctively realizes this on a daily basis. Let us strengthen ourselves and be determined and strong as our current Purim story unfolds around us.

Purim same'ach, Rabbi Berel Wein

Mordechai: does the end justify the means?

The Purim story is a collection of unlikely events and almost irrational decisions by all parties involved in this drama. There is ample evidence of the mercurial instability of Achashveirosh and of the diabolical wickedness of Haman. What is however the most perplexing, of all of the behavior of the major participants in the story, is that of Mordechai. What impels him to publicly disobey Haman’s orders and provoke and insult him? And did he have halachic and moral justification to so endanger the Jewish community by his behavior?

There is an opinion in the Talmud that showing homage to Haman was not necessarily forbidden by Jewish law. And Mordechai had other practical options such as hiding and not appearing publicly when Haman appeared. Yet Mordechai emerges in Jewish history and tradition as a hero and an exemplary role model for his courageous defiance of Haman. He is viewed as being the one whose behavior saved the Jewish people and not as one whose behavior was an endangerment.

Rarely do we find potentially foolhardy and bravado behavior universally judged as being heroic, necessary and most praiseworthy. We do find Mordechai being mildly criticized by some of his colleagues on the Sanhedrin for deserting them in order to enter public governmental life. Yet on the main issue – the central theme of the story of Purim itself – Mordechai is essentially the hero of Purim. The Torah, in all of its books, gives no one a free pass.  Everyone’s faults and mistakes are referred to and commented upon. Yet Mordechai, in the Book of Esther, appears to us to be without blemish or error. 

Perhaps the main, practical reason for this is that ultimate success and triumph are sufficient to erase all doubts as to the wisdom of past decisions and conduct. Mordechai’s persistence, fortitude and stubbornness eventually topple Haman (he actually hangs him) and destroy him.  Mordechai’s actions strengthen and enhance the status and position of the Jewish people as a minority in the polyglot Persian Empire. 

Success always brings its own rewards. Heaven has a vote in all human activities, even if unseen and unrecognized. And there is no doubt that Heaven, so to speak, sided with Mordechai in his public stance against Haman and the idolatry and tyranny that he represented. That is the only possible explanation for the otherwise unbelievable series of events that make up the Purim story. 

The traditional view of Purim is that it was a miraculous event, even though the miracles were hidden, incremental and cumulative and not of the purely supernatural kind, as were those of the Exodus from Egypt. And Mordechai’s conduct is part of this hidden miraculous story. Heaven apparently responds favorably to sincere acts of courage and loyalty. And those were the qualities that Mordechai exhibited throughout the Purim story.

Mordechai’s actions were perhaps inscrutable and not understandable to the average onlooker. But so was, and apparently is, Heaven’s reaction. 

There is an interesting and highly volatile concept in Jewish tradition that countenances behavior which somehow contradicts accepted halachic practice. Based upon the verse that appears in Psalms:

“It is a time to take action for the sake of God; they have violated Your Torah.”

The Talmud allowed for a reinterpretation of the verse to state:

“When it is time to act for the sake of God and save the Torah and Israel then in such extreme circumstances, the Torah itself can apparently be violated.” 

This rare exception to traditional norms was invoked by Mattityahu in rebelling against the Syrian Greek oppressors and their Jewish Hellenist allies. Based on this principle, the great Rabbi Yehuda HaNasi allowed the Oral Law to be written down and disseminated as a book, though the Torah itself counseled that the Oral Law should forever remain in its oral state. 

However, this concept is very dangerous in its application, as Jewish history has shown us. Those who consistently violate or ignore halacha and tradition doom themselves to eventual assimilation and extinction. In all instances in Jewish history there have been very few times when this principle has actually been used. 

Only rare and holy people have successfully behaved in such circumstances and I believe that Mordechai must be counted in that group.  Mordechai saw that it was a time to do something for God, to save the Jewish people and to alter the course of history. As pointed out above, Heaven agreed with his decision and hence our joy in commemorating the Purim holiday. 

Purim same’ach, Rabbi Berel Wein 

Be Proud!

Speaking in shul yesterday between minchah and maariv, Rabbi Wein spoke positively about something we usually associate with the negative: pride. When it’s attached to an individual, pride can be a big problem: people who are proud are, by definition, not humble. They may crave honour and status and their pride can be at the expense of other people on whom they look with disdain. But this wasn’t the sort of pride that Rabbi Wein was talking about.

Next Shabbat’s leining begins with the mitzvah of counting the Children of Israel—but the Torah doesn’t give the usual word for counting. Instead, it says “Ki Tiso”, when you lift up the heads of those whom you are counting. Holding up one’s head is a sign of pride.

Secular Jews, Rabbi Wein continued, are rarely proud of being Jewish and, as Jews, have little sense of self-respect. This is why the Purim story offers an explanation for the gezerah, the decree of destruction that was made against the Jewish people: they joined in the six-month-long party celebrations of Acheshverosh while that king was seeking to embarrass and humiliate them. Dressed in the garb of the Kohen Gadol and serving food and drink from vessels pillaged from the Temple, he was blatantly mocking his Jewish guests—yet they came, they ate and they drank.  It was not avodah zarah (idolatry) that sealed their fate. Rather, it was their abandonment of any pretence of self-respect. They had no pride.

Rabbi Wein added that it is not a mitzvah to be proud of being Jewish. No-one commands us to do it. But it is a value, and an important one at that. Without proudly recognizing our status as Jews, we have missed the whole point of our Judaism. In short, without being proud of who and what we are, we are doomed.

Concluding with a litmus test that we can all apply in our lives, Rabbi Wein quoted an aphorism from his cheder rebbe: “If your grandparents can look at you and take pride in who you are, and if your grandchildren can look at you and take pride in you, then you know you are doing something right”.

Purim same’ach—and have a proud Purim!

Doing it the best way: Tetzaveh 5785

The Torah ordains that the olive oil used to light the perpetual menorah (the candelabra) must be the purest and best available. There is obvious logic to this requirement. Impure oil will cause the flames to stutter and flicker; it may also exude an unpleasant odor. All of this can make the task of the daily cleaning of the oil lamps difficult and unpleasant. Yet I feel that the basic underlying reason why the oil must be pure lies in the value that the Torah places on the performance of all positive things in life being done correctly, enthusiastically and with exactitude.

In 'halachic’ parlance this is called kavanah—the intent to perform a commandment properly and in the best possible way. That is the story of the pure container of oil that is the core of the miraculous story of Chanukah. The Hasmoneans could have used regular, even impure oil and still not have violated any strong ‘halachic’ stricture. Yet the idea of kavanah, of acting in the best way possible, introduces an element of special dedication and holiness into what otherwise would be a matter of routine. This is what drives the spirit of holiness and eternity that accompanies the performance of mitzvot. Thus the requirement of the Torah for the purest possible oil to fuel the holy menorah is readily understandable when kavanah is factored in.

The light of the menorah has never been dimmed over the long history of the Jewish people.  Though the menorah itself has long ago disappeared from the view of the Jewish public—it was not even present in Second Temple times—the idea of its light and influence has continued throughout Jewish life.

The flame is not a tangible item. Rather, it is a matter of spirit, not substance. It provides light, warmth and psychological support in very difficult times.  Yet its influence and support is somehow directly connected to the investment in kindling it. That is the import of the words of the rabbis in Avot that according to the effort invested, so is the reward.

 All things spiritual depend on the effort invested in creating that sense of spirit: the purer the oil, the brighter and firmer the flame. This simple yet profound message forms the heart of this week's parsha. It also forms the heart of all values and commandments that the Torah ordains for us.

 Tetzaveh speaks to all of us in a direct and personal fashion.  It encompasses all of Judaism’s goals and is, in itself the light of spirituality that illuminates our souls and lives.

 Shabbat shalom, Rabbi Berel Wein

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

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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.