The Life and Death of Gedaliyah ben Achikam

Today we fast to mark the death of a leader whose name is better known than his deeds. Why do we fast, when we have lost many other leaders in tragic circumstances. What singles him out for special treatment? Here's a brief biographical note of a life that should never have been taken.

Gedaliyah ben Achikam stands as a pivotal though often overlooked figure in the turbulent period following the destruction of the First Temple in 586 BCE. A member of a prominent Judaean family loyal to the prophet Yirmeyah, Gedaliyah was the son of Achikam ben Shaphan, who had famously protected Yirmeyah from execution decades earlier. His lineage, rooted in piety and moderation, shaped his political approach during the kingdom ofJudaea’s final, fragile years.

After Babylonian forces under Nebuchadnezzar razed Jerusalem, exiled much of its population, and destroyed the Temple, Judaea was left leaderless and demoralized. Rather than annihilating the remaining Judean presence, the Babylonians appointed Gedaliyah as governor over the small remnant of people who had not been deported. He established his administrative centre at Mitzpah, just north of Jerusalem, where he sought to stabilize the shattered community.

Gedaliyah pursued a policy of cooperation with Babylon, recognizing that survival required accommodation rather than rebellion. He encouraged displaced Judaeans, including farmers and soldiers, to return to the land, cultivate fields, and rebuild a modest social fabric. His call was met with a measure of success: groups of refugees, hearing of his governance, returned and began to restore economic life. Gedaliyah’s leadership thus represented a glimmer of continuity and hope in an otherwise catastrophic era.

Yet his conciliatory stance also made him vulnerable. Elements within the Judaean elite, still committed to resistance against Babylon, perceived him as a collaborator. Chief among them was Yishmael ben Netanyah, a descendant of the Davidic line. In the seventh month of Gedaliyah’s governorship Yishmael, likely encouraged by external powers such as Ammon, orchestrated an assassination. Gedaliyah and many of his supporters were murdered at Mitzpah.

The assassination proved disastrous. Fearful of Babylonian reprisals, the surviving Judaeans fled en masse to Egypt, despite Yirmeyah’s warnings. This flight effectively extinguished organized Jewish life in Judaea for decades, deepening the exile’s trauma. In later Jewish memory, Gedaliyah’s death became a national tragedy. The fast of Tzom Gedaliyah, observed annually on the third day of Tishrei, commemorates not only his murder but also the collapse of Jewish autonomy and the further dispersal of its people.

Gedaliyah ben Achikam remains emblematic of a statesman who sought peace and pragmatic survival in the face of imperial dominance. His life and untimely death highlight the tensions between accommodation and resistance, and the fragile fate of leadership amid the ruins of a fallen nation.

Hannah's Song of Thanksgiving

Hannah's prayer from the Book of 1 Samuel is read as the Rosh Hashanah Haftarah: its themes of longing, heartfelt supplication, and the promise of dedicating a child to God's service resonate with the spiritual focus of the High Holidays. Hannah’s prayer exemplifies the need to approach God with deep sincerity, pouring out one's true desires and struggles, even when feels that one is submerged in a quagmire of unending disappointment.

In setting this prayer to music, our member Max Stern describes it as “ a paroxysm of praise and ecstasy filled with awe, wonder, love, and visceral confidence by a woman, joyous beyond her senses at the birth of a son”. It is, he maintains, the most important prayer uttered by a woman in the Bible.

This recording was made almost exactly 30 years ago, on 13 September1995 at the Maisel Synagogue, Prague. The musicians are Kristyna Valouskova (soprano) and Yuri Likin (oboe).

You can listen to this intense, emotionally charged composition here.

Eight People We Met on the Way Home: Book of the Month (Tishrei 5786)

Since Rabbi Wein zt’l was such a passionate advocate of aliyah for all, so often reminding his congregants and his wider audiences of the God-given connection between us and our land, it seems only appropriate to select one of his titles as Book of the Month for Chodesh Tishrei—and we have chosen for this purpose Eight People We Met on the Way Home—published in 2024 as the book of the lecture series on the major personalities involved in the return of the Jewish Nation to the Land of Israel.

For the record, the eight in question span a wide range of aptitudes, philosophies and religious orientations: they include characters as diverse as Rabbi Naftali Zvi Yehuda Berlin (the Netziv), Chaim Weitzman and Louis Brandeis. As the book’s webpage explains:

In a world of propaganda and controversy, Rabbi Wein takes you on a journey through 8 lives that were inextricably tied with the emergence of the Israel of today—and reveals truths you’ve been waiting to discover. Eight People We Met on the Way Home is an all-new riveting, emotion-laden narrative by world-renowned “Voice of Jewish History”.

It’s a lovely book and an easy read, with large, clear print and plenty of illustrations—some quite unexpected (Kaiser Wilhelm II and Giuseppi Garibaldi, the only great European political figure to have a biscuit named after him).

You can enjoy this book by borrowing the copy we have in the Beit Knesset library—but be sure to return it. Many books by Rabbi Wein that start off on our shelves end up in the private collections of people who have borrowed them.

"Are You With Us or Against Us?"

 Here's another piece by Rabbi Wein zt'l, drawn from the Destiny Foundation archives, on the importance of self-assessment on Rosh Hashanah.

On Rosh Hashanah we stand in judgment before our Creator. But we are not mere passive defendants standing in the dock awaiting a verdict in our trial. Instead, we take the liberty of submitting requests, suggestions and sometimes even demands to our Heavenly Judge. We pray for life and health, prosperity and wisdom, family and national stability, as well as for redemption, peace, serenity and meaningful success.

That is quite a long and impressive list of requests that we submit to the Almighty. It is part of the ethos of Judaism that such requests are allowed, if not even encouraged, by the Lord. These requests illustrate our dependence upon God and our inability to have hope, direction and planning in our lives without Heavenly aid and grace.

The doors of Heaven, the gates of prayer, are thrust wide open for us on the High Holy days and the Ten Days of Repentance—and we are bidden to take advantage of that situation with our prayers, requests and demonstrations of our improved social and religious behavior. It would be foolish in the extreme to ignore and not take advantage of such an opportunity to ask for what we need in our personal and national life.

Though the results of the judgments of Rosh Hashanah are not immediately clear, we are nevertheless in an optimistic mood and we celebrate the day in a holiday mode with feasting, family and friends. It is the connection with eternity and Heaven that Rosh Hashanah affords that transforms an otherwise day of tension and awe into one of holy serenity and satisfaction.

But Rosh Hashanah is a two-way street. It is not only our turn to ask God for what we want, but it is also a day when God, so to speak, also informs us what He requires from us. Judaism is a faith of mutually binding covenants between God and the Jewish people, collectively and individually. The rabbis taught us that, first and foremost, God wants our hearts. He wants sincerity and faith, belief and discipline, strength of character and good will. He abhors falsehood and hypocrisy, mendacity and venality.

The prophet taught us that the Lord desires that we act justly, love kindness, show mercy to others and to walk humbly in God’s ways. He demands that we live up to our side of the covenant, that we observe His commandments and sanctify His Holy Days and Shabbat by our behavior and demeanor. He wishes us to have an appreciation and knowledge of our past and a vision for our future. He would like us to share His view, so to speak, of the Jewish people as being a kingdom of priests and a holy nation—a unique treasure amongst all of the peoples of the world.

He also wishes that each and every one of us realizes that he or she is a special unique individual, not just a faceless number in a world of billions. People who feel special are special. Our self-judgment in our hearts influences our Heavenly judgment on Rosh Hashanah too: God invites us, so to speak, to judge ourselves in conjunction with the Heavenly court. Therefore we state in our prayers that every person’s signature appears on the verdict of the Heavenly court. We are equal partners in our judgment and in the outcome.

The national hopes of the Jewish people also find expression on Rosh Hashanah. No Jew is exempt from the destiny of the Jewish people as a whole. Our past century of sad and tragic experiences clearly indicates the futility of daring to imagine that the Jewish covenant allows individuals to opt out of it at will. Solidarity with the Jewish faith and people, with the state of Israel and with the eternal Torah is the guarantee of individual Jewish survival and meaning.

Joshua, upon encountering the angel in his tent, asked only question: "Are you with us or are you against us and with our enemies?" Unfortunately many Jews, deluded by "humanitarian" sloganeering, wittingly or unwittingly cannot answer Joshua’s question correctly. Rosh Hashanah allows us to look within ourselves and to declare to the God of Israel that we are truly with Him and with our people.

We wish to be inscribed in the book of eternal life and Jewish glory and not, God forbid, on the pages of Jewish perfidy and shame. Rosh Hashanah provides us with a wide range of important choices that have eternal consequences. May we always choose wisely and correctly.

The Ultimate Selfie

The following piece, written by Rabbi Wein zt'l in 2014, is as relevant now as it was on the day it was written.

The Torah emphasizes hat the day of Rosh Hashanah is a day of remembrance and of memory. Heaven can recall everything and everyone; human beings, less so. Human memory is selective, arbitrary and—many if not most times—faulty and inaccurate. 

People have often told me that they heard me say such-and-such in a public lecture and I have no recollection whatsoever of having ever publicly said something so inane. My memory is often faulty and betrays me when I need it. But the hearing of my listeners is often also impaired. People tend to hear whatever they wish to hear, even if the speaker never really said those words. 

All of this is part of our human condition, our frailties and our mortal nature. And it is a great and truly awesome (how I despise that word as it is used in current society!) experience on Rosh Hashanah to encounter Heaven’s perfect memory and faculty of total recall. 

It is not only that all our actions and words, thoughts and intentions are remembered and judged, but it is that they are remembered objectively and truthfully without personal prejudice or bias. That makes Rosh Hashanah the “Day of Remembrance.” There are people who are blessed with great powers of memory. But even they are fallible. Maimonides, one of the great geniuses of memory of all time, admitted that once he could not at first recall the source in the Talmud that would justify a decision that he rendered in his monumental work, his Mishneh Torah. If he could forget, then who will not also forget?! Only Heaven is not burdened with forgetfulness. 

This leads us to a basic question regarding our memories: what do we choose to remember and what do we sublimate and choose to forget? The Torah instructs us over and over again not to forget the basic principles of Jewish life:  God and the Torah revelation at Sinai, the exodus from Egypt, the sins of slander and gossip, the sanctity of the Sabbath, the continuing enmity of Amalek and much of the non-Jewish world towards the people of Israel, and finally the tendency of the Jews from the time of the Sinai desert till today to anger God by backsliding on obligations and covenantal undertakings. 

We have chosen to remember other less important things in life—foolish statements and imagined slights, unimportant statistics and false opinions, our jealousy of others and their achievements—while at the same time consigning the basic memories that should guide our lives to the dustbin of oblivion. 

Rosh Hashanah demands an accounting of our memory and our forgetfulness. The prophet long ago proclaimed that Israel was unfaithful because “I (God) was forgotten.” It is only forgetting that begets the ignorance of one’s heritage, faith and self. And it is that very ignorance that creates the climate of sin and assimilation, secularism and violence, greed and avarice that threatens our very existence as a people and a state. Woe to those who no longer remember for, without awareness of their past, their future is doomed! 

On Rosh Hashanah we read in the exalted prayers of the day that there exists, so to speak, a book of remembrances in Heaven—of memory. And in that book, each and every one of us has a page dedicated to our activities and behavior in our life on this earth. Not only that, but our signature and seal appears on that page, attesting to the veracity of what is written there. That page reminds us of what we have forgotten, and whether we willed that forgetfulness or otherwise. 

Eventually, after we have departed from this earth, our true and accurate powers of memory are restored to our souls. And, as the prayer records for us, the page literally speaks for itself, announcing the events and occurrences listed. So the ultimate day of judgment, just as the Rosh Hashanah day of judgment here on earth, is the day of memory and recollection. 

Remembering is the true catalyst for repentance and self-improvement. To put it into the current common vernacular, Rosh Hashanah should serve as one’s ultimate “selfie.” For that attitude of self-appearance is reflective of our fascination to remember and to know ourselves deeply and truly. On the day that everything is remembered in Heaven, we on earth should also strive to remember our past actions, attitudes and behavior.

Standing Firm in Covenant

 In this devar from our member Rabbi Paul Bloom, we take a deeper look at the word that gives its name to this week's parashah -- Nitzavim.

This week’s parashah, Nitzavim, opens with a powerful scene (דברים כ״ט:ט׳):

אַתֶּם נִצָּבִים הַיּוֹם כֻּלְּכֶם  

The Jewish people are summoned to accept upon themselves a final covenant before Moshe Rabbeinu’s passing. At first glance, the phrase “atem nitzavim” seems simple—“you are standing.” But the word נִצָּבִים carries a depth that goes far beyond the literal. In Lashon HaKodesh, לַעֲמוֹד does not mean merely “to stand.” It means to stand firm, with strength, courage, and faith. It is a word bound up with emunah—to take a position with inner conviction, even when facing opposition and uncertainty. We find this usage already at the Kriyat Yam Suf. When the nation stood trapped between the sea and the pursuing Egyptians, Moshe told them (שמות י״ד:י״ג):

הִתְיַצְּבוּ וּרְאוּ אֶת־יְשׁוּעַת ה׳ אֲשֶׁר יַעֲשֶׂה לָכֶם הַיּוֹם  

Here, “hityatzvu” does not mean passive waiting; it means summoning inner faith and resolve, reporting for duty, ready to face what seems impossible.

We encounter the same imagery at Har Sinai (שמות י״ט:י״ז): 

ַיִּתְיַצְּבוּ בְּתַחְתִּית הָהָר

Chazal stress that they did not merely stand physically at the mountain’s base; they stood with reliability and readiness, in full commitment to accept the word of Hashem. In modern Hebrew, lehityatzev means “to report for duty.” That is the deeper sense of nitzavim: to stand ready, faithfully and firmly, despite the challenges.

This firmness of stance connects directly to the meaning of a brit, a covenant. Rabbi Jonathan Sacks z”l often contrasted a contract with a covenant. A contract is utilitarian: I need you, you need me, so we bind ourselves in mutual interest. If either party fails, the contract dissolves. A covenant, by contrast, is not transactional but existential. It says: Whatever may come, we are bound together. It is enduring, resilient, unbreakable. That is why the Torah is built not on contracts, but on covenants.

The Covenant of Mutual Responsibility

What, then, is the nature of this covenant Moshe introduces in Nitzavim?

The Gemara (סוטה ל״ז ע״ב) teaches:

אמר רבי חמא ברבי חנינא: מאי דכתיב (דברים כ״ט:כ״ח) הַנִּסְתָּרֹת לַה׳ אֱלֹקֵינוּ וְהַנִּגְלֹת לָנוּ וּלְבָנֵינוּ עַד־עוֹלָם? מלמד שלא נענשו ישראל על הנסתרות עד שעברו את הירדן. כיון שעברו את הירדן וקיבלו עליהם את השבועה בהר גריזים ובהר עיבל, נתחייבו על הנסתרות, שנאמר הַנִּסְתָּרֹת לַה׳ אֱלֹקֵינוּ וְהַנִּגְלֹת לָנוּ וּלְבָנֵינוּ עַד־עוֹלָם. מכאן אמרו: כָּל יִשְׂרָאֵל עֲרֵבִים זֶה בָּזֶה

In effect, Moshe’s final legacy is this: “I have given you the Torah. I have led you through the desert with the manna and the clouds of glory. My last wish is this: look after one another. Be responsible for each other.”

Rashi (שם) comments:

והנגלות לנו ולבנינו – לְבַעֵר הרע מקרבנו, ואם לא נעשה דין בהם – יענשו את הרבים. מכאן שכל ישראל ערבים זה בזה

The Maharal (Gur Aryeh, דברים כ״ט:כ״ח) explains that this covenant truly took effect only upon entering Eretz Yisrael, at Har Gerizim and Har Eival:

כי הערבות הזה אינו אלא בארץ, שישראל הם אומה אחת. וכשנכנסו לארץ ונתקבצו כולם, אז נעשו ערבים זה בזה

Thus, mutual responsibility is fully realized only when the Jewish people dwell together in their land. The covenant of solidarity is tied intrinsically to the covenant with the land.

The Five Covenants

To appreciate Nitzavim, we must see it in context. Chazal and later commentators describe five great covenants that shape the destiny of humanity and Israel.

1.         The Covenant with Noach –וַהֲקִמֹתִי אֶת־בְּרִיתִי אִתָּכֶם (בראשית ט׳:י״א) :  The rainbow, the Sheva Mitzvot Bnei Noach, establishing a universal moral code for mankind.

2.         The Covenant with Avraham – בְּרִית מִילָה:  וַהֲקִמֹתִי אֶת־בְּרִיתִי בֵּינִי וּבֵינֶיךָ וּבֵין זַרְעֲךָ (בראשית  י״ז:ז׳)., demonstrating that an individual can enter into a personal, eternal relationship with Hashem.

3.         The Covenant at Sinai – “וַיִּכָּרֶת בְּרִית עִם הָעָם (שמות כ״ד:ח׳) :  The national covenant, when Israel collectively accepted the Torah and became a people bound to Hashem.

4.         The Covenant in Arvot Moav – (דברים כ״ח–כ״ט):  Affirming that the fate of Israel is not natural but spiritual. The Abarbanel calls this the Brit Eretz Yisrael, for it links our life in the Land to our spiritual state.

5.         The Covenant of Nitzavim – ערבות הדדית, mutual responsibility. Beyond being members of humanity, beyond individual and national connection to Hashem, beyond recognizing that our history is spiritually guided—we are also responsible for one another.

Judgment and Renewal

On Rosh Hashanah, we stand before Hashem in judgment on all five levels:

●          As members of humanity, accountable to the universal moral law.

●          As individuals, connected to Hashem through brit milah and personal faith.

●          As a nation, committed to Torah and mitzvot.

●          As a people tied to Eretz Yisrael, whose destiny depends on our spiritual standing.

●          And as a community, responsible for one another’s welfare and growth.

The covenant of Nitzavim teaches us that our greatness is not only in our personal achievements but in how we lift each other up, build families, communities, and strengthen Am Yisrael in Eretz Yisrael.

As we approach the new year, may we merit to stand firm—nitzavim—with courage, faith, and unity. And may this year bring ברכה, גאולה, and ישועה to all of כלל ישראל.

God will fetch us back!

The prayer for the State of Israel was introduced in 1948 by both the Sephardic and Ashkenazic Chief Rabbis of the newly-established State—Rabbi Ben-Zion Meir Hai Uziel and Rabbi Yitzhak HaLevi Herzog. This Shabbat coincides with the 77th anniversary of the day it was first published in the HaTzofeh newspaper, 20 September 1948. 

Our Torah reading this week, Parashat Nitzavim, is the source of a substantial part of its text. At Devarim 30:4-5 we read:

אִם-יִהְיֶה נִדַּחֲךָ, בִּקְצֵה הַשָּׁמָיִם--מִשָּׁם, יְקַבֶּצְךָ יְהוָה אֱלֹהֶיךָ, וּמִשָּׁם, יִקָּחֶךָ

וֶהֱבִיאֲךָ יְהוָה אֱלֹהֶיךָ, אֶל-הָאָרֶץ אֲשֶׁר-יָרְשׁוּ אֲבֹתֶיךָ--וִירִשְׁתָּהּ; וְהֵיטִבְךָ וְהִרְבְּךָ, מֵאֲבֹתֶיךָ

If any of you who are dispersed should be in the utmost parts of heaven, from there will the Lord your God gather you, and from there will He fetch you.

And the Lord your God will bring you into the land which your fathers possessed, and you shall possess it; and He will do you good and multiply you beyond your fathers.

The full text of the Prayer for the State of Israel, including these words of comfort and reassurance, has been set to music by our member Max Stern.

You can listen to Max’s version of this prayer (sweetly sung by the Kecskemet Singing Circle conducted by Peter Erdei) here.