100 reasons for making Aliyah

The desire to make Aliyah is already there, writes Rabbi Paul Bloom--but how do we convert that desire into meaningful action? The answer is that you have to start with a plan. Let Paul explain in his own words:

Almost everyone reading this article has some connection to Eretz Yisrael. For some, it’s family. For others, it’s Zionism—or simply a deep love for the Land that Hashem gave us as an eternal inheritance thousands of years ago.

But not everyone is ready to make Aliyah today. We all have real-life considerations—aging parents, growing children, employment commitments, or just fear of change. Still, for most, there is a spark—the quiet but persistent desire to one day live in the Land of our forefathers.

Right: The First Aliyah

Some are actively thinking about it now. Others envision it as a future goal. Whatever your time frame may be, it is important—no, essential—to begin thinking about the next step. Aliyah doesn’t happen in a day. It is a journey, and like any journey, it must begin with a plan.

Torah Foundations: Why Plan at All?

Some ask, “If Hashem wants me to be in Israel, won’t He take care of it? Why do I need to plan?” The Rambam himself faced a version of this question.

He was famously asked why he wrote that it is forbidden to live in Egypt—even though he himself lived there. The Radbaz, in a well-known teshuvah (responsum), explained that the Rambam’s residence in Egypt was temporary, and temporary residence is permitted when one has a clear intention and plan to move to Eretz Yisrael.

He referenced the Rambam’s commentary on Pirkei Avot (4:25), where he describes how temporary residence becomes halachically meaningful when it’s tied to a long-term spiritual goal.

In other words: Where you live now is only “temporary” if you're planning to be in Israel. Without a plan, it’s not exile with purpose—it’s just exile.

Aliyah Is a Process, Not an Event

Every Jew’s journey to Israel is unique. There is no single path and no one-size-fits-all answer. But the key is to start the process.

"הַכֹּל צָפוּי, וְהָרְשׁוּת נְתוּנָה" “All is foreseen, but the choice is given” (Pirkei Avot 3:15).
 Hashem sees the whole path, but we are still responsible for taking the next step.

Creating Your Aliyah Plan: Frameworks for Every Stage

1. For Those Ready in the Next 1–2 Years

You’ve already done some planning. Now it’s time to finalize and execute. Your to-do list may include:

●       Working with Aliyah organizations (e.g., Nefesh B’Nefesh, AACI, Olim Advisors)

●       Finding housing and employment

●       Choosing a community that fits your lifestyle and hashkafah

●       Securing legal documents, academic equivalencies, and professional licenses

●       Preparing children emotionally and educationally for the transition

2. For Mid-Career Professionals (Aliyah in 10–15 Years)

If you're not yet ready, don’t wait until “someday.” Now is the time to start laying the groundwork—especially financially.

✅ Real Estate as a Strategic Anchor
 

A group of families 25 years ago began planning together. They bought property in cities across Israel. Their investments grew approximately 15% annually. Many eventually retired in those very homes, having established a financial and physical connection decades earlier.

Left: The Second Aliyah

✅ Smaller Steps Count
 If large investments aren’t feasible, consider:

●       New housing developments with low down payments and delayed full payments

●       Using your U.S. home equity to finance property in Israel

●       Planning to rent instead of buy—while still researching communities to settle in

"אֵין הַדּוֹמֶה שְׁמִיעָה לִרְאִיָּה"  “Hearing is not like seeing” (Midrash Tanchuma).
 Owning—or even visiting—your future home in Israel makes it real, not just theoretical.

3. For Students and Young Adults

This is the best time to plan. Align your academic and career decisions with a future life in Israel:

●       Explore Israeli universities (many now offer English-language programs)

●       Research in-demand careers in Israel (e.g., hi-tech, medicine, education)

●       Consider spending a gap year or summer program in Israel

●       Begin building Hebrew fluency—language is a gateway to integration

"סוֹף מַעֲשֶׂה בְּמַחֲשָׁבָה תְּחִלָּה"  “The end of the deed begins in thought” (Sefer Yetzirah).  The seeds you plant now determine what will grow later.

4. For Those Who Are Retiring

If you're retired—or very close—making Israel the next chapter of your life is more than realistic. For many, it’s the fulfillment of a lifelong dream.

People often struggle between moving to Florida or making Aliyah. As someone who has experienced both, I can tell you: Florida cannot hold a candle to Israel.

Here, you have endless opportunities for learning, traveling, and engaging with Jewish history and community. The weather is beautiful year-round. The rhythm of Jewish life surrounds you. You belong.

Right: Aliyah today

If you have children or grandchildren in Israel, the decision becomes even easier. But even if you don’t, many retirees discover they actually spend more quality time with family in the U.S. by visiting 2–3 times a year than they did before making Aliyah.

And most importantly: this stage of life is ideal for a soft landing—if you've planned for it. Many retirees who prepared properly report a smoother, more meaningful transition.

"וְעַד זִקְנָה אֲנִי הוּא, וְעַד שֵׂיבָה אֲנִי אֶסְבֹּל"  “Even to your old age, I am He; and even to your gray hairs, I will carry you”
 —(Yeshayahu 46:4)
 Hashem doesn’t abandon us in later years—He carries us. And He can carry us home.

Conclusion: From Longing to Living

Aliyah is not only for the idealistic, the young, or the retired—it’s for every Jew. But desire alone is not enough. Desire becomes destiny when it’s paired with a plan.

Wherever you are on your journey—just beginning to dream, actively preparing, or somewhere in between—remember: The Land is waiting. Hashem is waiting. Your future is waiting.

You don’t need to know every detail.

Your plan doesn’t need to be perfect.

But you do need to start.

Rabbi Bloom can be reached at Aliya100reasons@gmail.com

No Pain, No Gain – A Call to Return and Rebuild

By all accounts, we are living through one of the most difficult chapters in modern Jewish history. The pain is nearly unbearable. Each fallen soldier is not merely a name or a statistic; each is a world lost, a soul extinguished. The collective anguish of our people is overwhelming. And the question must be asked: What can we do? Our member and regular contributor Rabbi Paul Bloom seeks to find an answer to this difficult question.

Some say, “Give in to our enemies’ demands, just so the bloodshed ends.” Others demand, “Fight with greater force and crush our enemies once and for all.” And as usual, the world applies to us a set of standards it uses for no other nation—demanding we show restraint even when under attack by barbaric terrorists. We are left with the inescapable truth: Only Divine intervention can save us.

But how do we merit Divine intervention?

The Shofar of Teshuvah

Parashat Beha’alotcha provides an essential clue:

וְכִֽי־תָבֹ֨אוּ מִלְחָמָ֜ה בְּאַרְצְכֶ֗ם עַל־הַצַּר֙ הַצֹּרֵ֣ר אֶתְכֶ֔ם וַהֲרֵעֹתֶ֖ם בַּחֲצֹצְרֹ֑ת וְנִזְכַּרְתֶּ֗ם לִפְנֵי֙ יְהֹוָ֣ה אֱלֹֽהֵיכֶ֔ם וְנוֹשַׁעְתֶּ֖ם מֵאֹיְבֵיכֶֽם׃

"When you go to war in your land against an enemy who oppresses you, you shall sound a teru'ah on the trumpets, and you shall be remembered before Hashem your God, and you shall be saved from your enemies." (Bamidbar 10:9)

The Rambam codifies this in Hilchot Ta’aniyot (1:1–2):

“It is a positive mitzvah from the Torah to cry out and blow trumpets when trouble comes upon the community… This is one of the paths of repentance.”

The message is clear: Our strength does not lie in military might alone, but in spiritual awakening—prayer, repentance, and the return to God. When the enemy comes to take away our Land, our first and greatest weapon must be the shofar of teshuvah, reminding us that the battle is not only physical but spiritual.

But there is something else, something tangible we can do: Aliyah.

Defeating Our Enemies with Faith and Feet

It may seem counterintuitive to promote moving to Israel in the midst of war and instability, but that is precisely when it matters most. The massive wave of aliyah from the former Soviet Union disrupted the Arab narrative of eventual victory. Every Jew who enters the Land thwarts that narrative again. As some in the Land courageously declare, “For every Jew killed, a thousand Jews should come and build.” We must take up that cry—not just with slogans, but with suitcases.

One might ask: How can we possibly expect people to move to Israel under such dire circumstances? The answer lies in another episode from our parashah.

No Pain, No Gain: The Sin of Complaining

Chapter 11 opens with the tragic episode of Tav’eirah:

וַיְהִ֤י הָעָם֙ כְּמִתְאֹ֣נְנִ֔ים רַ֖ע בְּאׇזְנֵ֣י יְהֹוָ֑ה וַיִּשְׁמַ֤ע יְהֹוָה֙ וַיִּ֣חַר אַפּ֔וֹ וַתִּבְעַר־בָּם֙ אֵ֣שׁ יְהֹוָ֔ה וַתֹּ֖אכַל בִּקְצֵ֥ה הַֽמַּחֲנֶֽה׃

“And the people were like complainers; it was evil in the ears of Hashem.” (Bamidbar 11:1)

Rashi explains they were complaining about the hardships of the journey to Eretz Yisrael. What was Hashem's response? Anger. Why? Because the hardships were a sign of love—Hashem was trying to bring them into the Land quickly, compressing three days of travel into one (Bamidbar 10:33). But instead of seeing the pain as part of the process of redemption, they rejected it—and lost everything.

As Chazal teach:

"Eretz Yisrael is acquired only through suffering." (Berachot 5a)

Rather than accept that pain as part of the price for entering God’s Land, they complained. That moment led to a cascade of failures, including the sin of the spies and the decree to wander in the wilderness for forty years.

The lesson is simple: There is no spiritual reward without spiritual investment. We cannot expect to inherit the Land without struggle. But if we are willing to endure even modest sacrifices—financial uncertainty, language barriers, cultural adaptation—then Hashem will surely assist us and defeat our enemies.

Yitro’s Dilemma: Then and Now

Later in the parashah, we read the dialogue between Moshe and his father-in-law, Chovav (Yitro):

וַיֹּ֣אמֶר מֹשֶׁ֗ה לְ֠חֹבָ֠ב בֶּן־רְעוּאֵ֣ל הַמִּדְיָנִי֮ חֹתֵ֣ן מֹשֶׁה֒ נֹסְעִ֣ים ׀ אֲנַ֗חְנוּ אֶל־הַמָּקוֹם֙ אֲשֶׁ֣ר אָמַ֣ר יְהֹוָ֔ה אֹת֖וֹ אֶתֵּ֣ן לָכֶ֑ם לְכָ֤ה אִתָּ֙נוּ֙ וְהֵטַ֣בְנוּ לָ֔ךְ כִּֽי־יְהֹוָ֥ה דִּבֶּר־ט֖וֹב עַל־יִשְׂרָאֵֽל׃

"We are journeying to the place of which Hashem said: I will give it to you. Come with us… and we will do good for you." (Bamidbar 10:29)

Yitro declines, citing his homeland, his family, and his possessions. The commentators debate his motives: comfort, health, family, wealth, or a desire to influence others spiritually from afar. Sound familiar?

Moshe responds by insisting: “Do not leave us... and the good that Hashem will do with us, we will share with you.”

Rabbi Yaakov Tzvi Mecklenberg, in HaKetav VeHaKabbalah, explains that Moshe was saying: Your decision can inspire the world. If a man of your stature leaves behind everything to join us in God’s Land, it will make waves across the nations. This, too, is a powerful Kiddush Hashem.

We must absorb that message today. Every Jew who makes aliyah—despite obstacles—becomes a beacon. Many cite the same excuses Yitro did: comfort, livelihood, family, safety, or religious mission abroad. But none outweigh the sanctity of living in the Land Hashem gave us.

The Call of Our Time

The message of Beha’alotcha is clear: When enemies rise against us, we must not only cry out to Heaven, but rise up on Earth. Aliyah is both a spiritual and strategic response. It is the fulfillment of Hashem’s promise to give us the Land—and a living declaration that we trust in that promise.

Now more than ever is the time. Let us not repeat the mistake of our ancestors at Tav’eirah, who turned back when they should have marched forward. Let us not be like Yitro, content to remain in comfort while others fight for the future of our people.

Let us rise up, beha’alotcha, and ascend together.

“Go with us… for Hashem has spoken good concerning Israel.”  And if we go—together—we will surely see that goodness with our own eyes.

So let us take Moshe's advice and convince your friends and family to the ascend to the place of which the Lord said, "I will give it to you”.

May the memory of our fallen be for a blessing, and may we merit the ultimate victory—of spirit, of nationhood, and of redemption.

Desires and destinations: Beha'alotecha 5785

The troubles, disappointments and disasters that visit the Jewish people on their trek through the Sinai desert begin in this week’s parsha. Moshe announces that “we are traveling now to our ultimate destination—the Land of Israel.” But, deep down in their hearts, the people are not really that anxious to go there. They have in their hearts and minds two options: remain in the desert and live a life of supernatural miracles and there become the dor de’ah—the generation of exclusive intellect and Torah knowledge, or return to Egypt, with all that this radical move would entail, physically and spiritually. 

The Torah will soon detail for us that neither of these options is acceptable. They will complain about the manna that falls from heaven daily and the seeming lack of variety in their meals. They don’t like the water supply, which is never guaranteed to them. They remember the good food that they supposedly had in Egypt.

According to Midrash, only a small minority actually wishes to return to Egypt on a permanent basis. They will press forward with Moshe to reach the promised Land of Israel, but they will do so reluctantly and half-heartedly. This leads inexorably to further rebellion, tragedy and the death of an entire generation – notwithstanding its being a dor de’ah – in the desert of Sinai. Our  parsha is a sad and depressing one, for we already know the end of the story. We can already see that this generation has doomed itself to desolation and destruction. 

Coming to the Land of Israel and its Jewish state, whether as a tourist and most certainly when someone immigrates, requires commitment and enthusiasm. Many who came to Israel over the past century did so  by default, but the country has truly been served and built by those who came with a sense of mission, purpose, happiness and expectation. 

Moshe’s clarion call, that “We are traveling to the place” of our destiny, echoes throughout the Jewish ages. Not all such calls are heard and even fewer are followed. Nevertheless, the call has resonated within the Jewish people throughout its history. It is that call, which  appears in today’s parsha, which is the same call that Moshe proclaimed millennia ago—the guiding motive for the existence of the State of Israel today. 

Just as then in the desert, there are options for Jews today. The many “Egypts” of the world beckon with their seeming allure but also possess great underlying faults and dangers. And there are those who wish to continue to live in a desert that demands nothing from them and contemplate themselves somehow as being a dor de’ah. History has always arisen and smitten these options from the Jewish future.  The long trek begun by Moshe and Israel in this week’s parsha continues. We hope that we are witnessing, at last, its final and successful conclusion. 

Shabbat shalom, Rabbi Berel Wein        

You can access "A nation of complainers", Rabbi Wein's devar Torah for the same parashah last year, here.

It's a steal!

Continuing our series of pre-Shabbat Avot posts on the perek of the week, we return to Perek 2.

At Avot 2:8 Hillel cautions against various examples of excess. One of them reads like this:

מַרְבֶּה עֲבָדִים מַרְבֶּה גָזֵל

The one who increases [his] manservants increases theft.

This reads a little awkwardly for the modern Torah student because the vast majority of people today do not retain manservants: butlers, valets, footmen and the like are the domain of costume dramas. Since manservants are no longer a familiar part of daily life in Western society, if we want to see something of the servant’s bond of loyalty and sense of commitment to his master we have to refer to costume dramas like Downton Abbey or to literary works such as P. G. Wodehouse’s series of Jeeves books and Kazuo Ishiguro’s prize-winning novel The Remains of the Day.  

Faced with the problem of the lack of contemporary relevance, some commentators omit any discussion of this teaching (e.g. R’ Dan Roth, Relevance: Pirkei Avos for the 21st Century; R’ Yisroel Miller, The Wisdom of Avos). Strangely, other authors have gone retrograde, opting for “male slaves” (David N. Barocas’ translation of Me’am Lo’ez; Chanoch Levi’s translation of Ru’ach Chaim; Joseph G. Rosenstein; Reflections on Pirkei Avot); David Haddad’s French translation (Les Actions des Pères) does the same with “esclaves”. While no translations have jettisoned “manservants” for something more familiar like “employee” or “domestic employee”— the mishnah is often explained as applying to this modern concept.

If we take “manservant” literally in its classical English context, what do we see? A “gentleman’s gentleman,” a man who serves but is never servile, and whose wit and resources are entirely devoted to the needs of his master. Belonging at the bottom of the hierarchy of society, such a servant might be expected to earn the lowest of wages, a factor that might motivate him to supplement his meagre income through theft of his master’s property. In the case of any theft, the master with only one servant in his employ would have little difficulty in identifying the likely culprit. However, with a multitude of servants, not only would it be harder to point the accusatory finger at any individual suspect; it would also be much more difficult to supervise the duties and activities of all the servants, so opportunities for theft would themselves increase.

But if we transfer the context of this mishnah from the domestic sphere to the corporate world, we can see how very practical it is. Statistically speaking, some 75% of employees steal from their employers and around one-third of business bankruptcies have been triggered by the consequences of employee theft [Figures taken from here].

Finally there’s a neat twist to this mishnah in the explanation of R’ Shmuel de Ucida (Midrash Shmuel): whose thefts are we talking about? When a person has a larger staff than he can afford, it’s not the staff who work for him but he himself who does the thievery in order to pay for his bloated and overmanned establishment. This explanation works just as well in the commercial world as in the domestic one, as Gila Ross (Living Beautifully) observes.

Endless Hatred: Rabbi Wein's book launch

Rabbi Berel Wein once again packed the shul last night when an excited and expectant audience flooded in to hear him speak on his latest book, Endless Hatred: Antisemitism from the Biblical Era to Modern Times, published this month by the Destiny Foundation.

In the course of his half-hour presentation Rabbi Wein surveyed the development and practice of antisemitism in many different guises, taking in the position of Jews in Roman times, in Spain and under Stalin in Russia -- to mention just a few examples. Nor did he hide from discussion of the conflict between Judaism and the two major faiths that were its monotheistic offshoots, Christianity and Islam. 

Rabbi Wein's talk concluded by urging those present to make sure that the tale he tells in this new title is transmitted to their children and their children's children. This appeal had an immediate and dramatic effect: many people who bought a copy of the book on the way in to the lecture purchased a further one or two copies when they left.

Photo: Rabbi Wein, pictured here with some of his previous publications.

While the subject of antisemitism cannot fail to cast the shadow of sorrow and sadness over any Jew who reads it, Rabbi Wein never loses his optimism and his faith that, with the protection of a merciful and almighty God, our ultimate destiny -- living as Jews in the land that He has given us -- is assured. 

 

If you have yet to see the book, you may be wondering what it's like. The first thing you will notice about it is its accessibility. It is not a threateningly academic tome that bristles with footnotes and obscure references. Far from it. The print is large, clear and makes for a comfortable reading experience. There are also many illustrations. 

On a personal note, Rabbi Wein's list of acknowledgements includes an honourable mention of Faigie Gilbert a.h. of the Destiny Foundation. Before her early passing she was also a great help to Beit Knesset Hanassi. We miss her too.

Rabbi Wein's talk last night has been recorded by Torah Anytime. You can access it by clicking here.

Cast a line to catch a Fisher

 New members of Beit Knesset Hanassi may recognize the dedication and effort that must have been made by others before they joined but, as time passes and the generations roll on, they may never get to meet those who made Hanassi what it is today, and will never know about their contribution to our community.  In the following article Dr Pessy Krausz offers an appreciation of one of our vintage old-timers, Joan Fisher (who donated the striking parochet in the main shul). Here;s what Pessy has to say:

The Joan Fisher Family Saga

If you took a fishing rod and cast a line with all your might, it might whizz its way via Warsaw, Kfar Chassidim, Melbourne, and Sydney—before taking a deep plunge and emerging in Jerusalem. Most specifically, in Jerusalem’s Beit Knesset Hanassi.

There, among many august matrons, sits our heroine—Laurel Joan Hadassah Fisher (née Marks), born 3 August 1927. She graces its front row while gently turning the 60-year-old pages of her Siddur/Chumash, bequeathed to her by her mother, Naomi. Just last Shabbat, Joan pointed it out to me proudly, saying, “Look at my mother’s beautiful handwriting!”

Photo: Joan (on the left) with Pessy Krausz

It was in this very Siddur that her husband Sam used to mark the place of the weekly Torah reading, slipping in notes for Joan and pointing out any parts that differed that week.

This same Sam—whose given names were Shalom Baruch—was named from the Prophets: Shalom and Baruch both appear in the Haftarah of Behar, which was read on the Shabbat following his birth in Warsaw in 1924. Little did this Polish-born babe know that when his father travelled to Australia to join cousins, not only would he miss his son's Brit, but it would be three years before he could amass enough funds to bring his wife and child to join him.

In the early 1930s, Sam’s mother turned to her husband and said, “The time has come for us to join your family in Eretz Yisrael.” Sam’s father came from a family of Yablone Chassidim, whose Rebbe had already told his disciples in the 1920s that their future lay in the Land of Israel. To that end, the Chassidim purchased land in what would later be known as Kfar Chassidim, nestled in the foothills of the Carmel mountain range.

In 1934, Sam and his parents arrived—coming first to Haifa, and then moving on to the Kfar. Sam added fluent Hebrew to his mother tongue of Yiddish. During that time, he wrote to his grandfather in Warsaw in beautiful Hebrew. Warren, who was present during my visit with Joan, shared that the family still has one of Sam’s original letters from Kfar Chassidim, dated 1937!

Photo: The parochet that Joan dedicated to Sam.

Life in Eretz Yisrael was difficult in those early days of Aliyah. Sadly, the economic conditions forced Sam’s father to return to Australia—once again, without the means to bring his wife and son along. During his father’s absence, young Shalom—who had already made Aliyah in 1934—celebrated his Bar Mitzvah, once again in his father’s absence.

Eventually, his father was able to send for his wife and, by then, two sons—Sam and his younger brother, Jack. They departed on the last ship through the Suez Canal around April 1939. Settled once again in Sydney, they welcomed a third son, Mark.

Joan’s own life became intertwined with Sam’s through a string of happenstances. She was the second in a family of five—she told me proudly, reeling off their names in order: Clarice, Joan, Leo, Harold, and Michael. As I sat, mesmerised by her tales of life in a modest suburb not far from Sydney, I had to remind myself to keep jotting down notes for Joan’s Hanassi Shul Profile—to which, fortunately, she agreed to contribute.

She told me that, growing up, the only other family on their street with five children was Catholic. There were some Jewish families, but, in her words, “they kept nothing.” Joan’s mother, by contrast, was punctilious in her observance—sending Joan across town on several buses to buy kosher meat. The kosher section had the hechsher on the main side of beef, and the butcher would cut her requested portion from that. On returning home, Joan would be met with her mother’s anxious question: “Where’s the kosher stamp?” And Joan would stammer her assurance, “Mummy, it was on the top of the beef, I promise!”

Why was it Joan who ran the errands, I wondered—especially since she had shared, rather despondently, that her older sister Clarice had a bicycle, and she did not. But then Warren proudly showed me a trophy his mother had won—a silver cup inscribed HPMPCC and Junior Joan Marks, 1938—when she was only 11 years old. What does HPMPCC stand for? Hurlstone Park Methodist Physical Culture Club. Duly impressed, our bubble was quickly burst by Joan’s ever-grounded perspective: “I was sent there because I was ungainly—not like Clarice—always knocking things over. Best of a bad lot!”

Still, it was the elegant Clarice who unwittingly became the matchmaker. She was working in an office and had forgotten her lunch. It was Pesach, and their mother sent Joan to deliver it. Off she went on that fateful errand—and who should spot her but none other than—you’ve guessed it—Sam. He pursued his dream girl.

He must have seen the lifelong qualities Joan possessed, such as the compassion she showed by moving to Melbourne to live with her widowed grandmother. “She was all on her own, and there were many of us,” Joan explained. “Mind you, if a boyfriend came along she didn’t approve of, she’d come into the room waving her watch saying, ‘It’s time, don’t you think?’”

Indeed, it was time. Time for Sam.

Joan no doubt recognised in Sam a man who could swim above the tide of fate, fight for his values—and win the heart of the girl he loved. Since Sam’s hardworking father had missed both his Brit and his Bar Mitzvah, Sam worried he might miss his wedding, too. Thankfully, he was present and gave his blessing to Joan and his son. Not long afterward, sadly, he passed away at just 45.

Still, he lived to see the cork that Warren later showed me—pulled from the wedding’s celebratory champagne bottle, engraved with the initials SBCJ: Shalom Baruch – Laurel Joan, 3 May 1950.

Together, Joan and Sam created a warm, welcoming home. Their four children grew up with guests around the Shabbat table as a regular part of life. Sam became increasingly active in communal affairs—especially education and the Chevra Kadisha—with Joan by his side. A whizz-kid touch typist from business college, she typed Sam’s many speeches and often contributed to their content.

At their golden wedding celebration in Jerusalem, Sam openly expressed his appreciation of Joan for this and so much more.

And here’s a little secret! One summer, quite by chance, Joan and Sam, and Neville and I, found ourselves in St. Moritz. Joan’s beautifully served meals—cooked on the hotel balcony and set out on a pristine white cloth—put my own humble picnic-style efforts to shame!

Sam was totally dedicated to Chinuch—Jewish education—in the fullest sense. He championed Sydney’s Moriah College for decades, committed to its excellence in Jewish and Zionist values. In recognition, when the school moved to its new Queens Park campus, they named the main walkway after him: The Sam Fisher Walk (Sam’s own story is available here).

In addition to Chinuch, Sam served as Vice President of the Sydney Chevra Kadisha, frequently performing Taharot before funerals. He also served for years on the board—and as president—of Central Synagogue, Sydney’s largest.

It’s little wonder that each of their four children, one by one, made Aliyah. Yet when the first—Jeffrey—left for Israel, Joan cried buckets. When Jill made Aliyah—more buckets. When Warren went, she did not cry. Eventually, she turned to the youngest and asked, “Lindsay, when are you going?!”

The line was cast—and the golden fishing rod led Joan and Sam themselves to make Aliyah in December 1992. They continued their communal involvement with gusto.

Joan volunteered with the renowned Yad Sarah, faithfully driving Victoria—blind and nearly deaf—to weekly swimming sessions at Jerusalem’s Institute for the Blind for over 20 years. Even after Joan stopped, Victoria continued to call Warren each New Year with greetings for the family.

For 15 years, Joan also transferred the Hearing Clinic’s paper records to computer at Hadassah Hospital, Ein Karem—until one day, she saw the name of her own great-grandchild. She knew then her mission was complete.

Sam served as Gabbai for the Hanassi Shul morning minyan. Henry Israel, Shul president from 2014–2018, remembered Sam as a devoted and non-confrontational Gabbai who drew others in. He encouraged congregants to participate and personally urged Henry to layn (read the Torah). “He is much missed,” Henry said.

After 20 years of service to the community, Sam passed away on 1 April 2012.

Joan and Sam donated the beautiful Ner Tamid to Hanassi Shul. Later, Joan honoured Sam’s memory with the donation of a rich blue velvet Parochet set adorning the Aron Kodesh. She praised the late Moshe Loshinsky z”l, beloved Gabbai, for his tireless work ensuring its completion.

We look forward to celebrating Joan’s birthday soon—on 3 August 2025. Let us, among the four generations she and Sam nurtured, raise a glass to her unwavering compassion, dignity, and grace.

May she go from strength to strength—ad me'ah ke-esrim—until 120, as she was at 20.

LeChaim!

Syria briefing comes to Hanassi

One of the most popular and best-attended events at Beit Knesset Hanassi is the monthly meeting of the men’s Rosh Chodesh club, which meets to hear specially selected speaker on a matter of contemporary Israeli political, religious or cultural interest. Our member and regular Hanassi Blog contributor Paul Bloom, who was at the club’s most recent event, sent us the following report.

This past Thursday, the Rosh Chodesh group had the privilege of hosting Dr Jonathan Spyer, a distinguished British-Israeli analyst, journalist, and writer specializing in Middle Eastern affairs. His presentation focused primarily on the evolving situation in Syria.

Dr Spyer began by outlining the background of the recent Syrian President Bashar al-Assad’s tenuous grip on power. Despite over a decade of weakness and instability, Assad managed to remain in control largely due to the backing of Russia and Iran. However, this support has been significantly undermined in recent times: Russia is now fully preoccupied with the war in Ukraine, and Hezbollah—Iran’s proxy in the region—has been seriously weakened.

Sensing an opportunity, the opposition forces led by Ahmed Hussein al-Sharaa, better known by his nom de guerre Abu Mohammad al-Julani, have reasserted themselves. Al-Julani, once a known terrorist figure, has rebranded himself in a Western-friendly image—donning a suit and speaking the language of diplomacy in an effort to gain international legitimacy. However, Israel remains deeply skeptical of his transformation and intentions. This is reflected in Israel’s ongoing and often forceful responses to any developments in Syria that could impact Israeli security, even indirectly.

One notable shift in Syrian policy has been its effort to halt the flow of Iranian weapons and drugs into Lebanon. Syria appears to be positioning itself for eventual sanctions relief, with the hope of establishing a more stable and functional government. However, the current leadership lacks the institutional experience to carry this out. Turkey has stepped in to offer assistance in this rebuilding process, which raises additional concerns for Israel. Turkey remains a strong supporter of the Muslim Brotherhood and is not considered a reliable ally by Israel. The possibility that Turkey could use Syria as a strategic proxy is viewed as a potential threat.

Dr Spyer also highlighted the unique roles of the Kurdish and Druze communities within Syria. These groups have shown consistent support for Israel and, in many ways, function autonomously within Syria. Whether their pro-Israel stance can be maintained, and whether this region could become another active front, remains an open question.

In the latter part of his presentation, Dr Spyer addressed concerns regarding U.S. policy toward Israel, particularly under the second Trump administration. He acknowledged that President Trump’s first term was historic in its support for Israel—relocating the U.S. Embassy to Jerusalem, brokering the Abraham Accords, recognizing Israeli sovereignty over the Golan Heights and all of Jerusalem, and endorsing Israeli communities in Yehuda and Shomron. Nevertheless, Dr Spyer expressed serious concerns about the current direction of Trump’s political circle. He pointed to the growing influence of the MAGA wing of the Republican Party, particularly Vice President pick J.D. Vance and Donald Trump Jr., both strong proponents of the “America First” agenda. Their foreign policy stance may not align with Israel’s interests. Even long-time Israel supporter Senator Marco Rubio, who may have presidential ambitions, could be swayed by these shifting currents.

Dr Spyer also warned that President Trump lacks the diplomatic experience required for the complexities of Middle East negotiations. Real estate deals in New York do not equate to successful foreign policy in a volatile region. Of particular concern are Trump’s approaches to the Gaza conflict, the Iran nuclear issue, and the continued American military presence in Syria—all of which could pose serious risks to Israel if mishandled.

As always, we pray that Hashem will guide the leadership of the United States to maintain a steadfast, pro-Israel stance, and that Israel’s own leaders will continue to act wisely and courageously, prioritizing the nation’s best interests, regardless of external pressures.

Shame, self-respect and self-control: Naso 5785

The words of the rabbis that “One who sees the shame of the woman who was unfaithful should immediately abstain from consuming wine” are well known and oft-repeated. Their meaning is obvious: in life everyone must drive defensively. Let no one allow oneself to be found in compromising circumstances and to imagine that one is somehow immune from its consequences. 

In the world today there are numerous sad examples of people in high office and of great achievement who have been humiliated and brought to grief by the revelations of their indiscretions. The rabbis in Avot stated that there is “an eye that sees us”—a constantly recording surveillance camera, if you will, that captures our movements and behavior. The public revelation of another’s sin should serve as a reminder to all the consequences of that sin. The Torah that ordinarily is very protective of one’s right to privacy, even the rights of a sinner, chose to publicize the fate of the unfaithful woman in order to impress upon others the need for care and probity in all matters of life. One should never say: ‘This can never happen to me.’ When it comes to human desires there are no automatic safeguards. Rather, only care, vigilance, and the avoidance of risk and compromising situations are the tools at hand for preventing disgrace.

The rabbis make a clear connection between witnessing sin and imbibing too much wine. Just as driving an automobile under the influence of alcohol and drugs is forbidden by law, life itself should generally be lived free of influences of that nature. Addiction to alcohol has been a rare occurrence in Jewish society over the ages. However, acculturation and assimilation over the past century have made alcohol a problem in Jewish circles today. The idea of abstinence from wine as described in the parsha regarding the regimen of the nazir is meant to be taken as a message of moderation and good sense. Like many other things in life, a little alcohol can be pleasurable and beneficial—but in large quantities it can be harmful and even lethal. The Torah holds up the faithless woman and the nazir as examples of the dangers that lurk in everyday life. It is essentially foolish for any human being to ignore these omnipresent temptations and dangers. 

Again, we read in Avot that one should not trust oneself until the final moment of life. An abundance of over-confidence in one’s ability to withstand temptations will always lead to unforeseen problems and sad consequences. All human experience testifies to this conclusion. Much of the modern world, Jewish and non-Jewish alike, mocks and derides any type of defensive driving in personal life matters. The concept of personal freedom has morphed into a lifestyle where any restraints on behavior, reasonable as they may be, are attacked and ridiculed. Fashions and mores may change with the times but human behavior does not, and the moral restraints the Torah imposes on us remain eternally valid and cogent. 

Shabbat shalom, Rabbi Berel Wein

You can read "Gregarious monasticism", Rabbi Wein's devar Torah on this parashah for last year, here.

Uniformity and self-expression

Here's an original take on the longest parashah in the Torah, brought to you by our member Rabbi Steven Ettinger. 

The United States, as represented most recently in the persona of its current President, can be characterized as a consumer culture. There is intense focus on advertising and marketing:  selling a dream, creating a demand, and making people believe that they cannot live without the latest and greatest. The hucksters and shillers create slogans, and jingles, burn images in our minds and even create fake holidays to promote a culture of buy, buy, buy. One such gimmick to boost sales during the dog days of summer was “Christmas in July.”

                                

Reading Parshat Naso provides an echo of that last slogan.  During the redundancy as the ba’al keriah cantillates the offerings of the nesi’im which are essentially the same six verses repeated over and over twelve times, some might actually be meditating on sufganiot and chanukiot rather than keeping the section in context – since this is also the reading for Chanukah. In other words, we have Chanukah in June!

Monotonous repetition, mantra-like, can be a trigger for meditation. Or it can lull you to sleep. This parsha of the nesi’im is repetitive and it seems to serve little purpose (yes, the commentators provide a variety of explanations why the Torah sets aside such valuable real estate for this). However, there is, in fact, a significant difference in the offerings for each day – the name of the nasi!

Nachshon ben Aminadav of the Tribe of Yehudah brought his offering on the first day. Regardless of what he brought; it was his offering. The pasuk does not say that he brought it on behalf of the tribe, simply that he was of the tribe (Rashi makes this point explicitly quoting the Sifri), it is an identifier. He brought one of each possible type of offering: olah, mincha, chatat/asham, shelamim. ketoret (see Sforno). Thus, each korban was imprinted with his individuality – his awe, his excitement, his passion, his insecurity, his faith, his creativity, his self-sacrifice – everything that made him Nachshon ben Aminadav.

This was true for Netanel ben Tzu’ar and every nasi through Achirah ben Enan. There was no discretion regarding what to bring, just as we have no choice as to which 613 mitzvot to observe. However, each nasi approached the Mishkan and the mizbe’ach on his day in his own unique way.

This inner self-expression amidst such an outward display of uniformity was the culmination of Hashem’s vision for the Mishkan. “Va’asu li Mikdash, veshachanti betocham” – “Construct a Tabernacle for me so that I may dwell in their midst.” Chazal have famously interpreted “betocham” in a completely literal manner – “within them” – not within the Mishkan --  not even within the camp, but within each and every Jew.

The nesi’im may have each brought physical offerings, in fact, the exact same grouping of offerings. However, and more importantly, they infused those offerings with every facet of their internal selves. By doing this, they effectively created internal space – a space that could be filled with the Shechinah, as the outward Mishkan itself was at that very moment. Their gifts allowed Hashem to fulfill veshachanti be’tocham.

We all must be a part of the community. Wwe cannot separate from it and cannot stray too far from its norms and standards: “al tifrosh min hatzibur.” However, we also must find ways to express our belief and to define our relationship with HKB”H as individuals so that we give Him room to dwell within us.