When the world is burning around us, it is to fire that we must turn

Speaking again in our Beit Midrash last night between minchah and maariv, Rabbi Jonathan Neril discussed the deeper meaning of the references to fire in the Torah. The tantalising topic of the Burning Bush--which was aflame but which the fire did not consume--was the point of connection between parshat Shemot, which we leyn this Shabbat, and a host of writings by our scholars and sages on different aspects of fire.

 

Rabbi Neril mentioned the horrendous fire that has gripped Los Angeles over the past week but put it firmly in its perspective. Despite the damage it has caused [recent estimates have placed the cost of this conflagration at between 250 and 275 billion US dollars], it is insignificant when compared to the scale of fires in the very recent past in the Amazon basin, in Siberia, in Canada and in Australia.  This unprecedented plague of fire must surely be telling us something.

Rabbi Neril then turned to the gemara, at Yoma 21b:

Our Rabbis taught: There are six different kinds of fire:

• fire which eats but does not drink;
• fire which drinks but does not eat;
• fire which eats and drinks;
• fire which consumes dry matter as well as moist matter;
• fire which pushes fire away;
• fire which eats fire.

The gemara explains and references each of these fires in turn, but Rabbi Aryeh Kaplan adds a seventh: the fire of the Burning Bush—the holy fire that burns inside us and motivates us to seek out the meaning of God in our lives. This is literally the aish haTorah. When the world is in flames, symbolising the crisis points in our own lives, it is to the fire of the Torah that we must turn.

Meet our member: Elie Samet

If you live, pray, shop and generally be around in Rechavia, you can't help recognise those familar faces you see so regularly in shul, in the shops or even at the traffic lights when you are waiting forever for them to change. But you may not know the names and personalities behind these familiar faces. Here's one face that most of us know so well -- but who is this good soul and what lies behind his cheerful exterior?  Let him speak for himself and answer these questions for us:

My name is Elie Samet. If I'm correct, I'm thirty-four and the youngest member of Beit Knesset Hanassi. I've had the joy of being around some of the greatest congregants and rabbis and I've been davening in Hanassi for almost seven years. 

I work in the area, at the local supermarket. The shul's tefillah times make it easier for me to keep learning and davening according to halachah. In my learning I found many ways to express my natural way to connect to people with Torah and avodah. One avenue that was revealed to me from above was the se'udat shlishit on Shabbat.

This arena, if you could call it that, gave me the opportunity to make siyumim and add positive feedback within the shul. I have finished in the neighborhood most of the Talmud and recently completed Seder Nezikin in the shul. You could call this my shalosh se'udot project (Baruch Hashem, it's an ongoing project!) My main goal is to finish the  Talmud. I use the Schottenstein ArtScroll and am currently two and a half books away from reaching my goal. 

I hope to see you at the Hanassi shalosh se'udot!

Frogs here, frogs there. Frogs were jumping everywhere ...

Were you in shul for minchah-maariv yesterday? If so, you would have been in for a surprise. Instead of a devar Torah from Rabbi Wein, you would have heard an entertaining and quite off-beat presentation by Rabbi Jonathan Neril (right)-- mainly on the subject of frogs. We learned a great deal about the sensitivity of frogs to environmental change and natural disasters, about research that has revealed much about the antiviral and antibacterial qualities of their skin, and about the deeper significance of the popular midrash of the frogs that increased in number every time the Egyptians smote them: this was no mere Biblical version of Whac-a-Mole.

We should explain that Rabbi Neril is the co-author, together with Rabbi Leo Dee, of Eco Bible, the first volume of which, published in 2020, covers the books of Bereishit and Shemot. Volume two, published a year later, addresses environmental issues in the rest of the Chumash. The thoughts of Rabbis Neril and Dee are supplemented by entries furnished by other contributors.

The publishers market these books with the following explanation of their contents and objectives:

What does the Bible say about ecology? As people face huge ecological challenges--including growing hurricanes, floods, forest fires, and plastic pollution--the groundbreaking Eco Bible dives into this question. Drawing on 3,500 years of religious ethics, it shows how the Bible itself and its great scholars embrace care for God's creation as a fundamental and living message. Eco Bible has been a #1 bestseller on multiple Amazon Kindle categories. Eco Bible both informs the reader and inspires spiritual commitment and action to protect all of God's creation.

 This 'earth Bible' is a great read for those interested in Jewish and Christian social issues. It also represents an important contribution to eco theology, and to the spiritual ecology movement. Publishers Weekly called the book an "insightful analysis," which "will inspire contemplation on how to live in harmony with nature and the power of conservation. Ecologically minded readers interested in the Hebrew Bible will love this."

Between the two volumes, the authors reference 450 pasukim from the Torah. By linking faith and science, this work seeks to connect religion with contemporary scientific thought regarding human health, biodiversity, and clean air, land, and water.

Rabbi Neril has kindly donated a copy of volume 1 of Eco Bible to Beit Knesset Hanassi. You will be able to find it in the downstairs Beit Midrash library.

When women learn with women

Beit Knesset Hanassi is privileged to have many fine members who have much to offer the shul and, indeed, the wider community. One such member is Gitta Neufeld. If you have yet to meet Gitta, let us introduce her to you.

Gitta (right) has over 40 years of experience in educational leadership, teacher training and special education in both general and Judaic studies.  She has served as Program Coordinator of the Touro University Masters in Jewish Education and Special Education program, and Director of Education and Pedagogy for the Sephardic Rabbinical College and the Allegra Franco School of Educational Leadership, and worked with Herzog College in Alon Shvut to create and then coordinate a Tanach teaching program.  She is currently an educational consultant for a variety of Jewish educational institutions.  The recipient of multiple awards for teaching and adult education, including the Covenant Foundation Award for Excellence in Education for her work in the Syrian community, Gitta is a Jeopardy! champion, whose Final Jeopardy! question was on Tanach.

Gitta is keen to encourage women-for-women learning here at Hanassi. This is what she says on the topic:

In the Rechavia community, we are blessed with a plethora of women’s shiurim of all types, some of which are hosted in our own Beit Knesset.  Most of these shiurim are frontal, with a learned teacher explaining material and sharing insights. The Hanassi community has many learned women who, though they may not be giving formal shiurim, have much to share.

Collaboratively learning – women learning with women – adds another dimension to the process.  There is an opportunity for deeper engagement in a shared, collaborative and supportive environment.  At the heart of traditional Torah study is chavruta, whose sounds echo in every bet medrash.  By learning collaboratively, we can discuss, debate and analyze the texts together.  Each learner can bring her own unique perspective, knowledge base and background to the process. Collaborative learning also fosters a greater sense of community, strengthening connections and creating a shared purpose as participants delve into texts, share insights and experiences, and arrive at rich and meaningful conclusions. Learning together also models the importance of learning for our families and friends.

If you’d like to know more about Gitta’s ideas, email bkhanassi@gmail.com and we will pass your message on.

Stones that speak: come visit the Jerusalem Archeological Park

We all know that Jerusalem is a city of great beauty -- but beauty is something that lies on the surface. A superficial inspection will easily tell us if something is beautiful or not.  But Jerusalem is far more than that. It is a city of history, and this history stretches back for thousands of years. 

We know of Jerusalem's past from Tanach and from the writings of our earliest sages, and this knowledge has helped nurture our love of Jerusalem for countless generations when we were hopelessly separated from it. However, now we have our city back, and Ir HaKodesh is speaking to us -- not through words but through the very bricks, tiles and stones with which it was built by our ancestors and others in its multifaceted past.

The Jerusalem Archeological Park sheds much light on Jerusalem's physical past. Though mute, its stones and structures offer eloquent testimony to the life and times of its former inhabitants. We thank our member Heshy Engelsberg for sharing with us this video clip of the Archeological Gardens. It lasts a little under 25 minutes and, if you watch attentively, you will even catch a glimpse of Heshy!

You can access this video by clicking here.

A promise deferred, a passive response: Vayechi 5785

The book of Bereishit reaches its climax this week with the deaths of our father Yaakov and of Yosef. The era of the founders of our people ends in relative tranquillity and contentment, albeit on foreign soil. It will be a long and arduous journey for the descendants of Yaakov to return home to the Land of Israel. 

The dark and foreboding era that is about to begin was foretold many years earlier to our father Avraham. From the simple meaning of the words of the Torah, it is apparent that the family of Yaakov made themselves comfortable and settled well in their home in Goshen. Though the promise of Yosef that the Lord would take them forth from Egypt was certainly remembered and passed on from one generation to the next, there was no sense of immediacy regarding this promise and its fulfilment; the Jews would view Egypt rather than the Land of Israel as their home for a long time. They hastened to return to Egypt after burying Yaakov in the Cave of Machpela: it was their home while the Land of Israel was a far distant goal, a dream that would somehow eventually be realized but that had no direct bearing on their day-to-day living. 

This attitude persisted throughout the long history of the Jewish people and of its various exiles, in Egypt, Babylonia, Persia, Europe—and today the entire world—where outposts have hosted and still host the Jewish people in our far-flung diaspora. The Jewish people were never in a hurry to leave any of these places and return to the Land of Israel. We have seen this in our time too.

It is difficult to understand why the holy family of Yaakov seems so passive and unresponsive in relation to the Land of Israel. There are commentators who state that they were aware of the heavenly decree that they would have to be strangers in a strange land for many centuries, so they accepted their lot and decided to make the best of it under the circumstances. However, as Maimonides points out regarding the Egyptian enslavement of the Jewish people, Egypt was not preordained to be the oppressor and enslaver of Israel. Nor was it apparently preordained that those early generations of Jews living in Egypt were to fulfil the vision of Avraham to be strangers and slaves in a land that did not belong to them. According to Maimonides the Egyptians had a choice as to whether to enslave the Jews, and the Jews—before their enslavement—equally had the choice of leaving Egypt and returning to their ancestral home in the Land of Israel. However we deal with this baffling issue, there is no question that this represents a template for all later Jewish exiles and for Diaspora Jewry in all times and places. Seemingly, only tragedy moves the Jewish people and, throughout our history, tragedies abound. Let us hope that history does not repeat itself in our time as well. 

Shabbat shalom, Rabbi Berel Wein

Fasting on Friday: the strange case of 10 Tevet

Just two days ago Beit Knesset Hanassi was privileged to host, together with OU Israel, a wonderful lecture by Rabbi Hershel Schachter on Asarah be'Tevet and the implications of that solemn day falling on a Friday. Rabbi Schachter has a whole list of responsibilities to shoulder, being Senior Posek for OU Kosher and Rosh Yeshiva RIETS/Yeshiva University -- but he still found time to come and speak to us for nearly an hour on this highly topical issue. 

OU Israel has posted Rabbi Schachter's shiur in full on its YouTube channel. So, if you didn't get the chance to hear it in person, or if you were there but want to do some chazarah and revise it before tomorrow's tzom, you can enjoy it by clicking here. 

For the record, tomorrow's fast begins at 4.55 am and it goes out at 5.17 pm. If you are fasting, we wish you a צום קל (tzom kal), an easy fast -- and also a meaningful one.

Is Galut so bad?

If you were in shul on Monday afternoon, you would have heard a thought-provoking devar Torah by our member Rabbi Paul Bloom, putting to good use those few but precious minutes that separate minchah from maariv.  An expanded version of Paul’s devar Torah was published the same day on Arutz Sheva’s Israel International News website, here, under the title “Is Galut so bad? Bittersweet Exile - A reflection on Galut and the call of Eretz Yisrael”. This is how it reads:

Many years ago, Rabbi Riskin of Efrat visited Highland Park, New Jersey, and described it as an example of "bittersweet Galut." The community boasts yeshivas, shuls, mikvahs, and kosher restaurants—a vibrant Jewish life in exile. Highland Park is one of many communities worldwide where Jews are well-educated, professionally successful, and comfortably settled. Why would anyone willingly trade such a secure and predictable life for the uncertainties of living in Eretz Yisrael?

This question is not new. Jewish communities have faced this dilemma since the very first exile: the Galut of Egypt. This Galut lead to Bnei Yisrael coming home and eventually building the first Beit HaMikdash , but tragically, 80 percent of the Jews in Egypt were unwilling to leave and perished during the Plague of Darkness.

History has repeated this pattern. For example, during the Babylonian exile, when Cyrus allowed the Jews to rebuild the Temple, only a small percentage returned to Israel.

In early 20th-century Europe, many Jews were persuaded by their rabbis to stay put due to concerns over religious observance in Israel and America. Tragically, countless lives might have been saved had Jewish leadership encouraged emigration in the late 1800s and early 1900s (of course, since Hitler and the Mufti were building concentration camps in today's Israel, they would have not have been saved had Rommel won the Battle of El Alamein, which he thankfully lost).

Hindsight reveals the profound dangers of inertia and complacency, yet radical change remains challenging in every era.

The Comfort of Exile

In Parashat Vayigash, we read how the children of Israel grew comfortable in their new, albeit foreign, surroundings. The Torah states:

וישב יִשְׁרָאֵל בְּאֶרֶץ מִצְרִים בְּאָרֶץ גּשֶׁן וַיַחֲזוּ בָּה וַיִפְרוּ וַיֹרְבּוּ מְאָד

"Thus, Israel settled in the land of Egypt, in the region of Goshen; they acquired property there and were fruitful and multiplied greatly" (Bereishit 47:27).

Ya’akov Avinu foresaw the dangers of this complacency and took proactive steps to ensure his descendants would not lose sight of their ultimate mission.

Ya'akov’s Final Request

In this week's parsha, Vayechi, as Ya’akov’s life drew to a close, he summoned Yosef and made an unusual request:

אםּ־נָא מָצָאתִּי חֵן בְּעֵינֵיךּ שִׁים נָא יִדְךּ תַּחֲת יָרַכִי וְעָשִׁיתָּ עָמָדִי חֶסֶד וֶאֵמֶת אַלּ־נָא תְקַבְּרִנִי בֶּמַצָרִים

"If I have found favor in your eyes, please place your hand under my thigh and do kindness and truth with me: do not bury me in Egypt" (Bereishit 47:29).

Rabbi Samson Raphael Hirsch explains the deeper meaning behind this request. While Ya’akov trusted Yosef to fulfill his wishes, he insisted on an oath to emphasize the importance of not being buried in Egypt. This was more than a personal preference; it was a national message.

Pharaoh and the Egyptians likely viewed Ya’akov's burial in Canaan as a rejection of Egypt. For Ya’akov, this act symbolized that his family did not consider Egypt their true home. After 17 years in Egypt, Ya’akov witnessed how the Nile River began to replace the Jordan River in his family’s eyes. Egypt no longer felt like exile to them. This troubled Ya’akov deeply, prompting his emphatic request to be buried in the land of his forefathers.

By expressing this wish as Yisrael, the bearer of the national mission, Ya’akov left a lasting message: Galut is unnatural, a punishment, and must never become permanent. His descendants were to strive for their return to Eretz Yisrael—not just after death, but ideally during their lifetimes.

Living, Not Just Dying, in Eretz Yisrael

The Chatam Sofer sharply criticized those who choose to live in exile but arrange to be buried in Eretz Yisrael. He interpreted the verse "komemiyut l’artzeinu" (“standing upright to our land”) as a call to return to Israel alive, not posthumously. Chazal also condemned this practice, applying harsh words from Yirmiyahu:

וֶנַחֲלָתִּי שָׁמֶתֶּם לָתֹעֵבָה וַתָּבֹאוּ וַתָּמֹאוּ אֶתּ־אֶרצִי

"You turned My inheritance into an abomination during your lifetimes, and defiled My land after your deaths" (Yerushalmi Kilayim 9:4, Bereishit Rabbah 96).

Rabbi Yehuda HaLevi explained that this critique applies to those who could have lived in Eretz Yisrael but chose not to. The Talmud Yerushalmi teaches that there is no comparison between one who returns their soul in the bosom of their homeland and one who does so in foreign lands.

A Legacy of Longing

Before his death, Ya’akov blessed his grandsons, Ephraim and Menashe:

הַמַלְאָךּ הַגֵּאל אֶתִּי מִכָּל־רָע יְבָרֶךּ אֶתּ־הַנְעָרִים וֶיַקָרֵא בָּהֶם שְׁמִי וֶשָׁםִי אַבֹתָי אַבְרָהַם וֶיִצְחַק וִיֳדְגוּ לָרֶב בְּקֵרֶב הָאֶרֶץ

"May the angel who redeemed me from all evil bless the lads, and may my name be called upon them, and the names of my fathers, Avraham and Yitzchak; and may they multiply greatly in the midst of the Land" (Bereishit 48:16).

Ya’akov’s blessing subtly reinforced the importance of longing for Eretz Yisrael. By connecting their blessing to the land, he reminded them of their true homeland and their duty to return.

Eretz Yisrael: The Source of All Blessings

Chazal teach that all blessings flow from Zion:

• Torah: כִי מִצִּיוֹן תָּצְא תֹורָה "For out of Zion shall Torah go forth" (Yeshayahu 2:3).
  
  
• Blessing: יְבָּרֶכְּךּ ה' מִצִיוֹן "May the Lord bless you from Zion" (Tehillim 128:5).
  
  
• Life: כְּטָלִל חַרָמֹן שֶׁיֹרֶד עָל־הָרְרֵי צִיוֹן כִּי שָׁם צָוָה ה' אֶתּ־הַבְּרָכָּה חַיִּם עַד־הָעוֹלָם "Like the dew of Hermon that descends upon the mountains of Zion, for there the Lord has commanded the blessing, eternal life" (Tehillim 133:3).

Today, the opportunity to live in Eretz Yisrael is within reach for almost every Jew. Yet many remain in the comfort of exile, ignoring the profound call of our forefather Ya’akov.

The Time to Act

Will we heed Ya’akov’s warning and take steps to leave the Galut? The land of Israel awaits—a land of unparalleled blessings and divine connection. Let us rise to the challenge, fulfill our destiny, and begin planning our future in the land of our forefathers.

Making Holocaust remembrance meaningful: a day for universal kaddish

Tomorrow the Jewish world commemorates the tenth day of Tevet, one of the many sad dates that form the Jewish calendar. The date commemorates the beginning of the siege and eventual destruction of the Temple in Jerusalem. It is one of the four biblical fast days that were ordered by the rabbis and prophets of Israel, and is accepted by all of the Jewish people, having been observed for many centuries.

After the terrible tragedy of the Holocaust the Jewish people and the State of Israel searched for a proper date and method to give expression to their grief in remembering the innocent victims of that terrible unprecedented slaughter. The State of Israel set a date at the end of the month of Nisan as Yom HaShoah. This observance includes the sounding of a siren, a minute’s silence, special memorial programs, together with somber music and serious programming on the radio and television.

The Holocaust has also been memorialized in films, museums, books, lectures and almost every other means. However, the rabbinate of Israel sought to commemorate the tragedy in a different, more traditional manner. They set aside the tenth day of Tevet as the day of memorial and of universal recitation of Kaddish in memory of the six million victims of the Holocaust.  

In Jewish history all tragedies have been marked and remembered by fasting. Since the tenth of Tevet is a fast day, the rabbinate attached the universal Kaddish day for the Holocaust to it. Aside from the four usual fast days—the tenth of Tevet, third of Tishrei, seventeenth of Tamuz and the ninth of Av—there were additional fast days such as the twentieth of Sivan, which Eastern European Jews observed. These fast days commemorated the pogroms and expulsions that Ashkenazic Jewry experienced over the centuries, from the Crusades through Chmielinicki and beyond.

Whenever possible, the commemorations such as that for the expulsion of the Jews from Spain were attached to the ninth of Av or other fast days. That was always the pattern in Jewish life. But one of the great difficulties of modern Jewry is how to commemorate the enormous events that have occurred to us in the last century. How is the establishment of the State of Israel to be commemorated? How is the memory of the victims of the Holocaust to be sanctified?

In Jewish tradition all great events have been commemorated within a religious context. However, in our time, when a great section of the Jewish people and its substantial leadership no longer saw themselves bound by traditional religious norms, the questions of commemoration mentioned above have produced very controversial results. Religious Jewry attempted to install a religious tone into these otherwise secular commemorations. The success of doing so has been only partial and therefore a great deal of ambivalence regarding these commemorations remains.

The universal Kaddish recital on the tenth of Tevet is the religious attempt to have a unified memorial service in a manner that is dignified, traditional and acceptable to all Jews. My personal impression is that this commemoration has gained some momentum over the past few years. Whether it will ever be able to gain the universal acceptance that the rabbinate hoped that it would achieve remains yet to be seen.

As the generation of the Holocaust falls to the attrition of time, the difficulty of commemorating the Holocaust in a meaningful fashion to new generations of Jews increases. The efficacy of a universal Kaddish day, such as on the tenth day of Tevet, depends on some sort of Jewish feeling and emotion. To create such a feeling or emotion without recourse to Jewish tradition, faith and ritual becomes a very difficult task. Thus the tenth of Tevet and its universal Kaddish day message reveals the deep problem of Jewish identity and the place of tradition and some sort of religious ritual in our society and lives.

The Jewish world, in its historical memory, forgets little if anything. That is why the commemoration of events in Jewish history, both tragic and triumphant, remains embedded in Jewish life. Though the form that remembrance of the events of Jewish history takes may vary from time to time and generation to generation, we can be certain that Jewish memory and eternity will prevail. Therefore the universal Kaddish day on the tenth of Tevet takes on greater importance than just being a day of fasting and commemoration. It is a day of national rededication to the values, history and mission of the Jewish people.

Shabbat shalom, Rabbi Berel Wein      

Chasing the mechanical rabbit: Rabbi Wein

“The Impending Disaster” was the title of the eighth and final lecture in Rabbi Berel Wein’s series, “The Jewish World 1880-1914”. The disaster in question was the First World War which, with perfect hindsight, could have been predicted and prevented. However, the overwhelming force of inertia made it impossible for the major European powers to change their collision course. In addition, the fact that the monarchs of so many of Europe’s nations were related, and indeed were on good terms with one another, was regarded as a sort of insurance policy.

The main thrust of this lecture was conceptual, not geographical in its focus as Rabbi Wein sought to sum up the major points that he had raised in previous weeks and tie them together, painting a depressing picture of the state of Judaism before war broke out. Rampant assimilation, conversions based on convenience rather than conviction and the quest for university admission in preference to Jewish scholarship were trademarks of Jewish social and cultural behaviour at that time. “The Jews are always chasing the mechanical rabbit”, quipped Rabbi Wein, meaning that we have a tendency to pursue ends that are nugatory and valueless.

Even within the orthodox community there were rifts and disputes: should they secede from the majority or not, and should they preach that poverty and hardship are conditions that had to be accepted?

Rabbi Wein then painted with a broad brush a picture of world history that lay outside the scope of his earlier geographical lectures. This included a review of the growth and sustained force of the British Empire as well as the Russo-Japanese War which shocked European complacency and demonstrated that Europeans did not enjoy ethnic superiority over their Asian rivals.  He also spoke of developments in military technology, particularly where artillery replaced sheer weight of numbers as the decisive factor in battle, and of the succession of national alliances that characterised the period.

Giants clash -- but who is the real winner? Vayigash 5785

The opening verses of this week's Torah reading are among the most dramatic and challenging in the entire Torah. Two great, powerful personalities in the house of the children of Yaakov—Yehudah and Yosef—engage in a clash and debate of epic proportions over the release of their brother Binyamin.

 At first glance it seems obvious that Yosef has the upper hand in his struggle. After all, he is the viceroy of Egypt, the commander of the palace guards who are armed and ready to do his bidding. In contrast Yehudah has very limited options as to what to say and what to do in order to obtain the release of Binyamin. Yosef’s position of power appears unassailable but the impassioned plea of Yehudah cannot easily be ignored. 

Since each of the two great antagonists, the leaders of the tribes of Israel, has the power to prevail over the other, perhaps we can conclude that neither is the victor in this clash of ideas and worldviews. The true champion who emerges from this story is the hoary old Yaakov. Seemingly isolated back in the land of Canaan, mourning and despondent as to the fate of his family, he shouts in anguish: “Yosef is no more, Shimon is no more; both of them will be lost to me!” It is this image of their father that haunts both Yehudah and Yosef. Each, in his own way, wishes to do justice to his father and to everything that he represents. And it is this selfsame image of Yaakov that brings Yosef to the climax of the story and to his ability, nay necessity, to reveal himself and be reconciled with his brothers. 

Jewish rabbinic thought over the ages has always sought to make the story of Yosef and Yehudah relevant to each generation of Jews. I think that the most relevant message for us from this great narrative is that it is the image of our ancient father Yaakov that truly hovers over all of our current struggles. It is our tasknot merely to win the debate with our other brothers or even with outside powers that are seemingly stronger and greater than we are, but rather to remain faithful to the old man that we can no longer see but who is always with us.

What gives both Yehudah and Yosef troubling pause in the midst of their impassioned debate is their uncertainty as to what their father would think of their words and their actions. It is this unseen presence of Yaakov that drives the brothers to reconciliation and to restoring a common purpose in their lives and those of their families. Father Yaakov has looked down at every generation of the Jewish people and—one way or another—every generation has been forced to ask itself “What would Yaakov think of us, our words and our behavior?”

It is this ever-present idea in Jewish life that has been an aid and a boon to our seemingly miraculous survival as a people and as a faith. We may not see Yaakov but we can be certain that he is there with us today as well. 

Shabbat shalom, Rabbi Berel Wein

Happiness in our hall!

Last night--indeed, the very last night of 2024-- the Hanassi Beit Midrash, which doubles as a hall, resonated to some very happy sounds. The reason? We were hosting a special event--a batmitzvah celebration by 31 families of evacuees from Shlomi, close to the Lebanese border. 

Not everyone in Rechavia is familiar with Shlomi. Though the modern town of Shlomi was founded in 1950, it has ancient antecedents: on the road between Shlomi and Kibbutz Hanita, Israeli archaeologists found the remains of Pi Metzuba, This prosperous town got name-checks both in the Talmud Yerushalmi and in the Tosefta (Shevi'it 4:8). Pi Metzuba was destroyed in the early seventh century when Persia (yes, it was those Iranians again) invaded the region as part of its broader conflict with the Byzantine part of the Roman Empire.

Anyway, following targeted attacks by Hezbollah and Palestinian factions based in Lebanon, Shlomi -- a border town of around 7,500 inhabitants -- was evacuated. Some of the town's residents are currently based locally in Jerusalem, many in hotels. As such, they do not have a natural focal point for their communal activities.

The families of the young ladies who were bat mitzvah said that, with all the upheavals they have experienced and dislocation in their regular lives, they were truly pleased just to be able to do something absolutely normal for a change -- to celebrate a family simcha in a real shul hall and with all the fun and fanfare that goes with an absolutely normal celebration. We may not have been there last night but we can still share their sense of simcha by enjoying the photos which they have shared with us.