Rebels in the Holy Land, by Sam Finkel (Book of the Month, Mar Cheshvan 5785)

When a determined band of Russian orthodox Jewish farmers arrived in what was then known as Palestine in 1882, they knew the world would be watching: In one of Baron Edmond de Rothschild’s most daring experiments, their task was to build a Jewish agricultural colony to serve as a model for future refugees fleeing persecution. But Rebels in the Holy Land is no typical story of pioneering; it is a tale of monumental idealism in the face of duplicity and cynical betrayal.

The farmers’ simple wish to observe the laws of shemitta in the Sabbatical year of 1889-1890, despite their patron’s opposition. This ambition thrust them into the swirling epicenter of worldwide controversy. Reviled by the Baron’s administrators, vilified in the press, ridiculed and nearly abandoned even by some of their religious countrymen, they stood firm. Their fight for what later became Mazkeret Batya sheds dazzling historical light on some of the very issues facing Israel today.

Sam Finkel’s book, which is now available in Hebrew as well as English, is illustrated with maps and vintage photography. We have a copy here at Beit Knesset Hanassi which you are welcome to read. Sam, by the way, is a local resident who can sometimes be found at Hanassi.

The Rainbow: an adventure in sight and sound

It's only a little more than seven minutes in length, but our musical member Max Stern's Rainbow for Seven Saxophones has quite an appeal to it. Starting with the occasional raindrop, this piece leads to a full-blown flood as the storm-tossed ark is ravaged by the element. Eventually the torrent ceases, the flood begins to subside and out comes the rainbow, God's sign for all mankind.

You can check this delightful little piece out on Max's YouTube channel here. 

The Great Make-Over: Noach 5785

The opening parshiyot of the Torah portray a rather dismal picture of the human race and of our world generally.  Everything noble and worthwhile seems to have spun away in a flood of vice, avarice, and murder. And this type of human behavior seems to have filtered down to the other forms of life on the planet as well.

The great flood described in this week’s parsha can therefore be seen, so to speak, as God’s make-over of the Creation. We know the feeling that comes upon us when, after working on a project for a period of time, we become convinced of the project’s failure and of the need to start over again from the beginning, discarding everything in which we had invested our energy.

But, as the parsha indicates, there is little to choose between the living world before the flood and the one that emerged in its wake. So the Lord adopts, as it were, a different tack. This is because, though God is disappointed by human behavior, He never irrevocably despairs of humans, individually or collectively. Now God will wait patiently until humans on their own, through their inner sense, seriously begin to search and find meaning and purpose in life.  This search will inexorably lead to the Creator and a moral code of behavior. Noach, as great a person as he was, was unable to transmit to his descendants the necessary sense of personal morality and that inner drive for self-improvement and righteousness which he himself possessed. Without that inner urge to search for the Creator, no outside revelation or cataclysmic event, no flood or war or Holocaust, can achieve an improved moral climate in human society.

The parsha records God’s commitment not to bring another flood upon humankind. Outside pressures and historic events, no matter how impressive and intense they may be, are not the ways to inspire and improve human behavior. A change of the human heart, a rethinking of life’s meaning and mission, a yearning for spirit and eternity—these are the proven methods for achieving a more just and noble society.

The lesson of this week’s parsha, and indeed the fundamental lesson of the Torah, is that the path to knowledge and service of God runs through one’s own inner feelings, attitudes, ideals and commitments. The task of Jewish parenting and education is to impart this basic truism of life to the next generation. And as the Torah itself testifies, this ability to do so was what set Avraham apart from Noach, and the Jewish people at their very origin from the nations of the world.

Shabat shalom, Rabbi Berel Wein 

Our Children's Service: a "thank-you" note

 This short note came into our inbox yesterday. It speaks for itself.

For over a year, our daughters have been enjoying the Children's Service at Beit Knesset HaNassi. The Rehavia neighborhood has many shuls and many children, but does not have many shul opportunities for these children.

We are happy that we found an environment where the girls can daven, discuss parsha and play games with their peers. Having shul be a Shabbat destination for children builds the familiarity and comfort that encourages them to continue attending shul as they grow and develop.

Thank you to Beit Knesset HaNassi for offering the service of the Children's Service. 

Efrat Benn and Nachum Lamm                

We receive all sorts of correspondence, with perhaps more emphasis on telling us what's wrong rather than thanking us for doing something right. So, thank you Efrat and Nachum, we really appreciate your words -- and a big thank-you to the Children's Service team --  Avigail Kaplan, Naama Rosenbaum, Nava Swidler, and Malka Rosenbaum -- for all their hard work and dedicated input.

Teva, Kav veTzeva: the art of Yitzhak Giladi

Some readers of this post may remember the distinguished Israeli artist Yitzhak Giladi, who was a member of Beit Knesset Hanassi before he moved to another locality. Well, Yitzhak has an exhibition of his art which is running throughout the month of November. Its title is Teva, Kav veTzeva ("Nature, Line and Color"). Details of this exhibition, which is being held in the Jerusalem Theater, can be found below. 

The Jewish World 1880-1914: a new lecture series

Beit Knesset Hanassi is delighted to announce details of the forthcoming lecture series by Rabbi Berel Wein: "The Jewish World 1880-1914".  This series covers the three and a half decades that culminated in the First World War, the conflict that many believed to be the war to end all wars. This period saw many shifts in the fortunes of the Jewish people and of the Jewish religion itself, as commitment to the Torah faced competition from the claims of nationalism and conflicting political philosophies.

Delivering the lectures is Rabbi Berel Wein, who has earned an outstanding reputation as a writer and lecturer on Jewish history. 

These lectures are open to the public as well as to our members. You can sign up in advance for the entire series, or you can pay at the door for each lecture you attend. 

We hope to see you there!

Shemini Atzeret and Simchat Torah: a Unique Celebration

This year Beit Knesset Hanassi held its first Ne'ilat HaChag, to round off the sequence of festive days that we have just celebrated together. Speaking at the Ne'ilat HaChag, our member Rabbi Paul Bloom treated us to the following thoughts:

The Yom Tov of Shemini Atzeret and Simchat Torah holds unique significance, blending distinct aspects of joy and spiritual connection. On one hand, Shemini Atzeret is linked to Sukkot but, on the other, it is an independent festival. Over time, the Gedolim (sages) decided to associate Simchat Torah with this holiday, adding an extra layer of meaning.

One of the most beautiful aspects of this celebration is the connection of rejoicing with the Torah. As the Vilna Gaon explains in his commentary on Shir HaShirim (The Song of Songs), the first three verses represent the three pilgrimage festivals (*Shalosh Regalim*), while the fourth verse represents the additional festival—Shemini Atzeret. The verse reads:

מׇשְׁכֵ֖נִי אַחֲרֶ֣יךָ נָּר֑וּצָה הֱבִיאַ֨נִי הַמֶּ֜לֶךְ חֲדָרָ֗יו נָגִ֤ילָה וְנִשְׂמְחָה֙ בָּ֔ךְ  

"Draw me after You, let us run; the King has brought me into His chambers; let us exult and rejoice in You."

This verse describes how the King (Hashem) brings us into His private chamber, allowing us to rejoice directly with Him. This expresses the unique joy of Shemini Atzeret, where the relationship between Hashem and the Jewish people is personal and intimate.

Rashi also emphasizes this distinction in his commentary on the verse in parshat Emor, stating that Shemini Atzeret follows Sukkot, a festival with universal dimensions, where offerings are brought for the nations of the world (Umot HaOlam). In the future, Zechariah tells us, the nations will come to Jerusalem during Sukkot to acknowledge Hashem. However, Shemini Atzeret is about the special, private connection between Hashem and Benei Yisrael.

Interestingly, the Torah Temimah points out that the word "בָּ֔ךְ" ("in You") from the verse in Shir HaShirim has the gematria (numerical value) of 22, which corresponds to the 22 letters of the Hebrew alphabet—the foundation of the Torah. Our love for Hashem is intimately connected with the Torah, and through these 22 letters, we find joy in our relationship with Him.

The Benei Yissaschar further deepens this concept, noting that Shemini Atzeret always falls on the 22nd day of Tishrei, marking 22 days since Rosh Hashanah. These 22 days are filled with teshuvah (repentance), forgiveness, prayer, and kindness, culminating in the joy of Sukkot and reaching their peak on Shemini Atzeret. This period signifies our journey with Hashem, and through the Torah, we solidify our connection with Him.

An even deeper connection emerges when we consider another set of 22 days: the Three Weeks, which begin on 17 Tammuz and end on Tisha B'Av. These days commemorate the destruction of the two Temples, but the first and most significant destruction was when Moshe shattered the luchot (tablets). Though the tablets were broken, the letters—the divine essence of the Torah—were not lost. They soared, waiting for a new place to reside.

During the Three Weeks, we mourn the loss of this connection, but during the 22 days from Rosh Hashanah to Shemini Atzeret, we work to restore it. The phrase "כָּתְבֵנוּ בְּסֵפֶר הַחַיִּים" ("inscribe us in the Book of Life") reminds us of this restoration. The Torah, described as Etz Chaim (a tree of life), reconnects us with Hashem. By the end of this journey, we rejoice in the ultimate restoration of our bond through the Torah on Shemini Atzeret.

This parallel between the two sets of 22 days, the Three Weeks of mourning and the 22 days of Tishrei, illustrates the cyclical nature of loss and restoration. The culmination comes with Shemini Atzeret, where we experience the joy of holding the Torah, dancing with it, and feeling the profound connection it provides.

Shemini Atzeret and Simchat Torah represent the pinnacle of our relationship with Hashem. Through the Torah, we deepen our understanding, find infinite joy, and restore what was lost. Let this Yom Tov be a time of reinstating the 22 letters of the Torah into our hearts and minds, renewing our bond with Hashem and experiencing the special joy that comes with it.

Farewell, Sukkah!

An innovation at Beit Knesset Hanassi this Sukkot was Rabbi Kenigsberg's introduction of a short, sweet "Farewell to the Sukkah". Before taking our leave of the shul Sukkah, we had a bite to eat, sang some songs and said a couple of short divrei Torah. The following was said over by Jeremy Phillips:

If you carefully read our davening schedule, you will have seen an item that reads “Farewell to the Sukkah 5.15 pm”. Opposite this item, on the Ivrit side of the timetable, this event is listed as “Shalom leSukkah”. But even to say anything at all might seem a bit irregular to those of us who are 21st century rationalists. For one thing, even the most beautiful of Sukkot is an inanimate object: you can say hello or goodbye to it if you like, though it won’t hear you. You can tell it whatever you like but you won’t get a response. You may as well be talking to a brick wall (parenthetically, we learn from the very first daf of masechet Sukkah that there’s no problem with a Sukkah having brick walls, so long as it does not exceed 20 amot in height).

Another strange thing about saying goodbye to the Sukkah is the unique nature of this custom. After all, we don’t say goodbye to the shofar when we’re finished with blowing it; we don’t say goodbye to the arba minim either. Nor, on Pesach, do we bid farewell to the matzah—though to be honest I think the parting of the ways between man and matzah is often greeted with more relief than grief.

Well, actually, there is no problem because, in point of fact, we don’t really say goodbye to it at all. Both the Rinat Yisrael and the ArtScroll machzorim describe this little ceremony in Hebrew not as a farewell but as a Yetziah, an exit. And the function of the text of the yehi ratzon which we recite is not to say goodbye to the Sukkah, but to remind God that we have notched up some serious brownie points for performing the mitzvah of living in the Sukkah and to ask that these self-same brownie points be carried forward into the year we only recently commenced.

Some machzorim follow the yehi ratzon with a kabbalistic paragraph, ribona de’alma, which likewise focuses not on the past week but on the year that lies ahead. In it we ask God to let the angels that we have created during the Chag through our performance of the mitzvot of Sukkah and the arba minim accompany us on our return to normal life. We then ask God if He would be so kind as to let the aforesaid angels help protect us from sin and from sha’ot hamitragshot – malevolent moments – that are likely to occur, and not to punish us for our misdemeanours before we’ve had a chance to repent for them ourselves.

So, all on all, this alleged farewell to the Sukkah is really a forward-facing strategy for dealing with our return to what we like to call our normality.

Having said all this, it seems to me that saying goodbye to the Sukkah is a good thing to do, since it is a way of showing respect to the departing Chag. In light of this, I’d like to make reference to a Mishnah from Avot:

רַבִּי אֶלְעָזָר הַמּוּדָעִי אוֹמֵר: הַמְחַלֵּל אֶת הַקֳּדָשִׁים, וְהַמְבַזֶּה אֶת הַמּוֹעֲדוֹת, וְהַמַּלְבִּין פְּנֵי חֲבֵרוֹ בָּרַבִּים, וְהַמֵּפֵר בְּרִיתוֹ שֶׁל אַבְרָהָם אָבִֽינוּ, וְהַמְגַלֶּה פָנִים בַּתּוֹרָה שֶׁלֹּא כַהֲלָכָה, אַף עַל פִּי שֶׁיֵּשׁ בְּיָדוֹ תּוֹרָה וּמַעֲשִׂים טוֹבִים, אֵין לוֹ חֵֽלֶק לָעוֹלָם הַבָּא

Rabbi Elazar HaModa’i used to say: One who profanes the kadashim ("holy things"), degrades the Festivals, humiliates his friend in public, nullifies the covenant of our father Abraham, or who interprets the Torah contrary to its true intent---although he may possess Torah knowledge and good deeds, he has no share in the World to Come.

What does ‘hamevazeh et hamo’adot’ really mean? How does one cheapen or degrade a festival? According to many commentaries, following in the footsteps of the Bartenura, this means being insufficiently respectful to Chol HaMoed. How do we know this? One of our own local commentators—Rabbi Menachem Mordechai Frankel-Teomim (who lived down the road at no.2, rechov HaShla)-- explains that, if the word mo’adim means the yamim tovim themselves, the feminine form of the word—mo’adot—refers to a gentler sort of mo’ed, which is Chol HaMoed.

For us, not just sitting down in the Sukkah for the occasional snack but, ideally, living in it full-time, is the main mitzvah of Chol HaMoed, a mitzvah we can even fulfil when we are fast asleep. This being so, it is surely appropriate to acknowledge its importance by leaving it in an appropriately respectful manner. More than that, we should be very careful not to denigrate it. As the Midrash Shmuel points out, any form of disrespect to Chol HaMoed has potentially disastrous consequences: if you don’t respect its integrity in this world, you don’t deserve to be respected in Olam HaBo, the world to come.

Looking back at The Sukkot Season

The festive season has come to an end. While the mitzvot associated with Sukkot, Shemini Atzeret and Simchat Torah have now passed, we are still left with many thoughts, feelings and memories to process. The month of Mar Cheshvan, which will soon be upon us, provides an ideal opportunity for reflection, introspection and contemplation of the impact that Tishrei and its momentous occasions have made on us.

Here, in the first of three post-Sukkot items on the blog that look back to last week's festivities, we bring a short and colourful YouTube clip by our member Heshy Engelsberg, "The Sukkot Season", which succinctly captures the atmosphere in the streets of Jerusalem when our beautiful and eternal capital goes into celebratory mode. 

You can click through to "The Sukkot Season" here.

Truth comes down to earth: Bereishit 5785

The Midrash teaches us that when God, so to speak, consulted in Heaven as to whether to create humans, four representatives presented their views to the Almighty. This Midrash is an instructive way to begin to understand the role of Midrash generally in rabbinic writing.

The rabbis generally seek to express deep philosophic ideas, conundrums and contradictions that we constantly face in daily life in a manner that, on the surface, appears as a story or a fable: oversimplified and almost naïve in presentation. Each student of Midrash must ferret out its intended deeper message and its relevance to our lives, society and situation. This is because Midrash is a living document, pointing towards current guidance and thought—not a book of stories about the past.

But let us return to the debate in heaven as to whether humans should have ever been created in the first place. Truth and Peace objected. Said Truth, since humans tended not to tell the truth, they could never be trusted and therefore had no useful function. Peace agreed. There would never be a time in human history when war, violence and dispute were absent. So, again, there would be no constructive purpose in creating such beings and in having them populate the world only for them to destroy one another.

Kindness stated that humans should be created: there will always be a streak of goodness and compassion within human beings. They will build schools, hospitals, orphanages and day care centers. They will search for medical cures to disease and raise vast amounts of wealth to help those who are less fortunate and truly needy. Overall, they would be worthy of being created. Justice agreed, Humans possess an intrinsic sense of fair play. They will establish courts of law and attempt to adjudicate disputes between themselves. They will create police forces to make for a secure society. Again, overall, humans could be a positive force in the world.

The Midrash continues by saying that God, so to speak, considered all four protagonists and their arguments. They were evenly balanced at two against two. In order to reach a decision, He threw Truth down to earth so that now the “vote” was two to one in favor of creating humans, which He then proceeded to do.

The great Rabbi Menachem Mendel Morgenstern (Halperin) of Kotzk asked: “If God was only looking to break the tie vote, so to speak, why did he throw down Truth? He could just have easily thrown down Peace. With Truth remaining alone, the vote would still be two to one.” He then answered: “Truth can never be outvoted. No matter what the vote is, no matter how many speak against it, Truth remains at its core, which is eternally true. Peace may be compromised and manipulated. Not so Truth. It is a value that is all or nothing. Something which is ninety-nine percent true is still not Truth. It does not adjust to ever changing mores, fads or current correctness. So, Truth had to be disposed of before a vote could be taken.”

The Jewish people have always been outnumbered. God promised us that we would be a small people numerically—and that promise has certainly been fulfilled. The human race consists of billions of people who disagree with us and outvote us regularly. Sometimes they do this peacefully, but most of the time with hostile intent. Other faiths have, for centuries, attempted to convince us that the majority rules and that, since they prevail, we should give up and join them. But we have not wavered as a nation in our belief in truth as revealed to us by God at Sinai. We cannot be outvoted as we represent Truth in its essence and sincerity. And that is the secret of the creation of humans and the existence of Judaism throughout the ages.

Shabat shalom, Rabbi Berel Wein

The Creation: Bereishit set to music

Here's another topical music clip from Beit Knesset Hanassi's very own Max Stern: it's "Creation of the World (Bereshith) for soprano, flute, strings and percussion". The text is based on the words of the Torah (Bereishit 1:1-31 and 2:1-3). In this clip it is performed by the Ashdod Chamber Orchestra conducted by Luis Gorelik. The soloists are Amalia Ishak (soprano) and Avihai Ornoy (flute). 

This recording was made at a live concert at Kibbutz Yavneh nearly 30 years ago, back in 1995. Of this work, music critic Uri Epstein described it as, 

"...an expression of exhilaration and awe in witnessing the phenomenon on creation."

The piece, which is of 20 minutes in duration, is structured in seven variations, each being a day in the process of the world's formation: 1 darkness-light, 2 seas-heaven, 3 land-vegetation, 4 sun-moon-stars, 5 fish-birds, 6 beasts-man, 7 Sabbath.

You can watch and listen to it by clicking here.

Rising to face a unique challenge: Simchat Torah 5785

We reproduce here the full text of the letter circulated to all members of Beit Knesset Hanassi ahead of Simchat Torah 5785 (2024), the date in the Jewish calendar that marks the first anniversary of the October 7 massacre, in which nearly 1,300 souls were slain and over 250 hostages seized. This letter, sent out by Rabbi Joel Kenigsberg and Jeremy Phillips, addresses the need to strike a balance between the mitzvah of celebrating the renewal of the Torah and the immense sadness felt by all Israel on the anniversary of a major tragedy.

Simchat Torah this year presents us with a unique challenge.

On the one hand it is clear to us all that this cannot be a Chag just like any other. We cannot ignore the unspeakable pain Am Yisrael has endured over the past year and that so many continue to endure even now.

Yet at the same time, this season remains our eternal zman simchateinu. Simchat Torah is a day when we rejoice in the completion and renewal of the Torah, a day that represents the unbreakable spirit of Am Yisrael throughout history. Over the past year we have witnessed that spirit again – with unwavering strength, resilience and unity in the face of such tremendous challenges. We have a responsibility to celebrate the light that has shone amongst the darkness, and to show hakarat hatov for the good we have experienced – notwithstanding the pain, anxiety and grief that still abounds.

Even in their darkest moments, our ancestors danced and celebrated the gift of the Torah. And so must we. While we remain sensitive to the deep sorrow in our hearts and in the hearts of so many, we cannot cancel or erase the eternal meaning of our Chagim.

To that end, our Hakafot this year will aim to strike a balance between our enduring joy in the Torah and the respectful remembrance of those we’ve lost and yearning for those still in captivity. We will do our utmost to give space to the two conflicting emotions that will accompany this day. We will celebrate, for that is our victory. We will raise our voices in song, for that is our legacy. But we will also pause, reflect, and pray, for that is our duty.

As Rav Yosef Tzvi Rimon writes:

“The war is not only on the battlefield. The war is also on the home front. The enemies are trying in every way to disrupt our lives, to sow fear and panic among us, to cause division in our people and to shut down all joy in our country. We will not let them win!

We will continue to live in our country with high spirits. Although, at all times, we will remember the soldiers, the wounded, the martyrs who were killed and murdered, the hostages, the bereaved families and the families from the North and the South. We will remember them, think about them and pray for them. We will also pray for unity within Israel, and we will remember that our strength is in our unity.”

This Simchat Torah will be, as Shlomo HaMelech writes in Kohelet (3:4), both an “et sefod” and an “et rekod” – a time to grieve and a time to dance. Indeed, we will dance with tears in our eyes.

The Sefer Torah leading Hakafot (both in the night and in the morning) will bear a special me’il dedicated to the memory of Sergeant David Mittelman HY”D along with all those who were murdered and fell defending our people. This me’il is part of the global Simchat Torah Project, bringing a spirit of achdut and connecting us with over 500 other communities worldwide who will be using identical me’ilim. each dedicated to the memory of a different kadosh, in their Hakafot.

Additionally:

• While the mood of the Hakafot will be upbeat, we will at times switch to slower songs in recognition of, solidarity with, and prayer for those in mourning and captivity. Certain Hakafot will be dedicated for the success of our soldiers, the return of the hostages, the healing of the wounded and the return of those displaced.
• We will be joined by students from Yeshivat HaKotel who will help bring energy and ruach to our Hakafot. Israeli flags will be handed out to the children as a symbol of the strength and unity of Am Yisrael.
• Before the Aliya of Kol HaNe’arim we will recite the Misheberachs for our soldiers and for the speedy return of the hostages and together we will sing Acheinu.
• We ask that even those who normally exit for Yizkor should remain inside for the communal Yizkor for all those killed in the war.

In 1973, in the wake of the Yom Kippur war, Rabbi Norman Lamm delivered a sermon entitled “How can we be happy on this Simchat Torah?”. He concluded thus:

“So we shall be happy... We shall be happy because it is an act of emunah - faith. We shall be happy because it is an expression of bitachon - confidence in things to come. We shall be happy because our happiness issues not from childish and naive simplicity but from a recognition that life is complicated and complex and paradoxical. We shall be happy because our joy itself will overcome enmity and adversity, animosity and hostility. We shall try to restrain the sobs and sing out. And if a tear falls, we shall wipe it away and continue to dance. Because when we hold the Torah, we know that no defeat is permanent, and that victory will surely come.”

Simchat Torah reminds us of the eternal strength of the Jewish people — the ability to hold joy and grief together, to dance with tears in our eyes, and to continue forward as a nation bound by Torah, resilience, and faith.

May this Simchat Torah be a time of true simcha and may we know only besorot tovot for Am Yisrael in the coming year.