Israeli Music engages with its Judaism

I have just posted my second memorial post in as many weeks. l don't want this to become some sort of obituary column, so it is time to post something of a positive nature.

This evening, Gush Etzion hosted a joint concert of Yonatan Razel (of Vehi She'amda fame) together with Arkadi Duchin. A dati and chiloni musician in concert together. This is not the first time that we have seen one of the central figures of the Israeli (secular) music scene demonstrate an interest in Judaism. In recent years there has been a huge revival of interest in Jewish themes. For example, Ehud Banai and his album of zemirot, the much hailed move to religious observance by Etti Ankri and her recording of a beautiful album of Rabbi Yehudah Halevi's songs. Barry Sakharof with an album of piyutim by Ibn Gvirol and Kobi Oz with his Psalms for the Perplexed. Kobi Oz is the lead singer of Tippex (Teapacks) and a prominer figure in the Israeli music scene. Here is a quote from him:

"In recent years I have steeped my soul in a warm marinade of Judaism, and the result is "Psalms for the Perplexed," an evening of brand-new songs that fall somewhere in the hazy area between "religious" and "secular." It is not something naïve, spiritual, or kabbalistic-just Hebrew songs that send a smile in the direction of our brilliant Sages"

There is no doubt that Israelis are seekers in many ways. Many search for spirituality in the Far East. But as Israel matures and grows-up, many Israeli's are asking themselves basic questions. Many young Israelis are far from the antagonism towards Judaism and rejection of religion that once held sway in secular circles. They are curious and intrigued as to what their heritage beholds. Sometimes they are trying to understand why we, as a Jewish country and nation, have such a unique fate, with such inordinate world attention and frequently inexplicable hatred directed towards Israel. Sometimes, it is a search for the spiritual, or a return to ancestral roots. Secular Batei Midrash like Alma or the secular yeshiva, and cultural centres such as Beit Avi Chai all examine Jewish themes. There was such a wide range of Tisha B'av programs for the average Israeli this week - demonstrating a clear revival of interest in Judaism (as long as it isn't coercive!) This isn't Aish Hatorah but rather an exciting dialogue with Judaism and Jewish tradition through music.

Some years ago, I was listening to a live concert by Avishai Cohen. Avishai Cohen is a world famous (Israeli) jazz player who "made it" on the NY scene, playing at all the top venues. And yet, once he had conquered the summit of the Jazz circuit, he came home to Israel. at this concert, he was talking about his new album, and he mentioned that he had always played instrumental jazz but had never sung lyrics. He decided that he wanted to sing, but which words, which text to sing? And then he said: "So I thought about this song that my grandfather used to sing. The words are shalom aleichem malachei hashalom." - Amazing! It isn't the version that you might recognise, but the fact that Israeli artists are enaging in a dialogue with Judaism is heart-warming.




Maybe we are moving forward after all!

Words of Tribute. Marc Weinberg z"l

On Sunday evening, Beit Knesset HaRamban in Jerusalem held an evening of learning that was dedicated to the memory of Marc Weinberg z"l. Many people have asked me to post the comments I made at the close of the shiur in Marc's memory. Here they are. But let me just say that this is far from a comprehensive Hesped. My paltry words cannot sum up the energy, charm and power of Marc. In addition, I was aware that many in the audience did not know him. Having said all that, here is the speech.


Tribute to Marc Weinberg z"l.
Comments at the end of my shiur. Erev iyun at Ramban shul – 18 July 2010 / 8 Av 5770

This evening, chaverim, we have discussed tragedy, death, destruction, pain, suffering, collapse, disintegration. We have discussed it on the national scale.

However all these words seen apt at describing the terrible afflictions of cancer that gripped the body of my dear friend and talmid, Marc Weinberg, in these recent years, until his tragic death, at the start of this "3 weeks" period.

I do not want to talk of the pain. In truth I prefer not to reflect on the broken twisted body that was forced to withstand all the torture and suffering of Iyov – and Marc held forth so gallantly and heroically. I prefer to recall the Marc Weinberg full of vitality - with his immaculate sense of fashion, his beloved suntan and his Sunday morning football game.

For many of you who did not know him, let me say a few words. On the one hand, this shiur is highly appropriate for Marc's memory. In a way, it is at variance with him.

It is matched to him because Marc loved Tanakh, limmud Torah, and particularly, giving Tanakh a structure, a pattern. Whenever I spoke to Marc, even in the latter months of his illness when he was seriously sick, he would ask me: "any new books that I should know about?" He loved getting to the core of the methodology of things. Marc was an educator to the core. He worked as a highly successful banker and financier. And yet, he spent evenings and Sunday afternoons teaching young people. He loved nothing more than taking really intelligent (but Judaically unlearned) kids and teaching them how to learn. Not just teaching them but giving them learning tools and a thirst for knowledge. A good shiur was one which had a clear methodology, order, system, and this is what he wished to impart to his students.

In one of our final conversations Marc related to me so excitedly how he had begun to teachTanakh and Judaism to the Hiloni son of a neighbour in Modiin , excited at how bright and well-read he was, and devastated at his dearth of Judaic education.

But in other ways this shiur is mismatched to Marc. I don't know which aspect of God Marc would have identified with: God as Judge, enemy or source of faith. That חשבון Marc can take up with the Ribbono shel Olam. God knows that Marc would have a long list of legitimate complaints to take up with Him.

But Marc was not a philosopher or a theologian. Marc was a do-er. He was a magnetic personality. People warmed up to him. But how did he use his charisma? Once again, we can talk about Marc and methodology. Marc believed living life according to principles, and he was proud of these principles and ethics – his Modern Orthodoxy, his commitment to intelligent Talmud Torah, Religious Zionism, Derekh Eretz, community, personal integrity. He spent time figuring out how things worked, and then he set to work. He took these foundational principles, and as he developed his confidence over the years, he applied them in the world of finance, community building, Zionism and Aliyah etc.

He acted. He built a shul. He had a Hashkafa that he was passionate about and knew that he could put it into place, and did. He was determined to establish a vibrant young Modern Orthodox, Religious Zionist congregation in London. He did it. He was devastated to see Jews' College become a right-wing institution and yearned to see it as a hub of real education and inclusiveness, a forum for Modern Orthodox speakers and text-study. He built that. People who came to the shiva saw his daily lists which outlined his aims and objectives, his achievements and accomplishments, but most simply, his daily tasks, his list of people to be in touch with. This was a man on a mission. He developed a phenomenal network of contacts through his intelligence, hard work and integrity and most importantly his care and sensitivity, And he leveraged this network to help people - finding jobs for people, and when he had a new project to put into place, he knew precisely who could play every role. His confidence gave people an assurance that the project would work.

There are two types of response to tragedy. One is in the theological realm, but Marc would have said that the response to destruction is to build, and better not to let it be destroyed in the first place. To build our world.

May his family: Natalie, Yona and Maayan; Syma and Henry, Debra and Aviad, have much nechama from the realization that he did so much for so many people. May this be the end of any suffering for their family and may the passage of time ease their grief and allow them to move onwards and to smile at life (and may life smile at them!) And may we learn from the figure of Marc Weinberg z"l that we should not underestimate our power, our ability to shape and build the world around us.

ת.נ.צ.ב.ה

p.s I found an email that Marc sent me which exemplifies exactly what I said above. It was sent on the day his eldest daughter Yona, started school:

01/9/09 Education Question

Alex

Today was Yona's first day of Kita Aleph.

This made me think how I can contribute to supplement her Limudei Kodesh. I love
structures and things I can follow. She cannot yet read hebrew fluently but she
says Tefilla and I could help with her general knowledge but have been doing so
without any structure .... I sort of want to know a program for the next few
years of goals I should be achieving with her..."

That email echoes much of what I said here.

May his memory be a blessing.

No Shortcut Judaism – In memory of מורי ורבי - Rav Amital

Rav Yehuda Amital passed away last week at age 86. He was my Rosh Yeshiva, my teacher, to whom I am indebted for much of my value system and my spiritual path in life. He was a Holocaust survivor, an ideologue, an institution builder, a master teacher, a Talmid Chacham, a humble Jew who cared about every other Jew, a proud Israeli who fought in the war of Independence, and founded Hesder, sending his own students to fight in the army, who began as a leading settler, and ended up as a supporter of Peace. He stepped into Israeli politics when he felt that his unique contribution could make a difference. Much has been written about him (see 1,2,3,4,5) however, in some manner of tribute I would like to add a few personal reflections. One caveat - a short blog entry could not do any justice to the depth of his learning, his extensive achievements, the magnetism and warmth of his personality, nor his personal charisma.

No Shortcuts – "אין פטנטים"

I believe that no student could pass through the Yeshiva without hearing Rav Amital's trademark saying – אין פטנטים. By this he meant that there are no shortcuts to spirituality, to mastery of Torah, to God. Rav Amital sought authenticity. He would sing over and over: וטהר לבנו לעבדך באמת – In other words, 'God purify us that we serve you authentically, in truth, in depth" and Rav Amital believed that this was hard work. He insisted that the Yeshiva be a place of learning without distraction, of depth and devoted study. He spoke about prayer and how religious connection is an "Avoda sheba-lev (service of the heart)" meaning that it was an Avoda – hard work. Spiritual highs cannot come instantaneously.

Rav Amital expressed his disdain for religious fads, superficial expressions of piety, and what he saw as shallow spiritual thrills. Furthermore, he was uninterested in religious practices that took a person out of the cycle of the "normal." Once, a friend of mine – a ba'al teshuva – was pedantically cleaning his hands PRIOR to Netilat Yadayim. He had studied the directive of the Mishna Berura that required that one ensure that no substance become a barrier to the waters and interfere with the ritual washing of the hands. Rav Amital saw him and gently said to him: "Danny. Be normal!" He believed that strict and full accordance with the Halakha was a way of life that demanded effort and work, but that it should not take a person away from the orbit of normal people, or regular living.

In this vein, he voiced his wariness with the increasing practice within the Religious-Zionist community to grow peyot (sidelocks) and don huge kippot (yarmulkas). He spoke against it saying that these outer trappings were an expression of fear and insecurity, that people were frightened that they could not withstand the pressures of secularism and modernity. He encouraged people to have confidence in the religious traditions of their families, in the depth and power of shemirat mitzvoth, and not to resort strange dress, and anti-establishment acts.

Truth, ideological shifting, courage.

Rav Amital's sense of truth expressed itself in other ways. After the Six-Day War Rav Amital saw the euphoria of Israel's successes as a sign of divine Redemption and encouraged that ideology as a practical roadmap for settlement of the land. However with the traumas of the Yom Kippur War (in which he lost 8 students – a tenth of his Yeshiva) and the moral questions of the Lebanon war, Rav Amital questioned his ideological priorities.

He felt that Religious Zionism had become morally compromised. When he set up Meimad, his political party, it was not designed to be left wing. It was designed to make the statement that the Land of Israel was not the sole challenge of Religious Zionists, not Judaism's prime emphasis. Rather Religious Zionism had to adopt other priorities such as social justice and reconnect with the mainstream of Israeli body-politic. He was ostracized for his views, but twenty years later, more and more people talk in that vein.

He had the courage to change his opinions even when his students and the entire Religious-Zionist world ridiculed and vilified him. He was the first major religious leader to suggest that territorial compromise might be a the best policy (under the circumstances) for the State of Israel. He was the first person to raise a self-critical voice calling for introspection after the Rabin assassination.

He always called for full allegiance and respect for the Israeli government, understanding that if we uproot our adherence to the source of our sovereignty, we risk everything.

In all these policies he spoke against the Religious-Zionist mainstream, but believed that the truth must be voiced, whatever the personal cost.

Empowerment and Truth

Rav Amital believed in empowering his students. On the inaugural evening of the Yeshiva, he stayed at home. People did not understand why he wasn't there at the inception of his institution. He replied to the boys: 'It is YOUR Yeshiva. I will help you, but YOU will make this place succeed or make it fail."

He invited a talmid chacham who was ten years his junior and a new Oleh – Rav Aharon Lichtenstein shlit"a - to take over the Yeshiva because he felt (his words) that he wanted a superior scholar to lead the institution. In a move of mind-boggling proportions, Rav Amital extended Rav Lichtenstein the position of leading the institution single-handedly as Rosh Yeshiva, and that he (Rav Amital) would merely teach on the faculty! In Rav Lichtenstein's words: "He left the keys on the table." Needless to say, Rav Lichtenstein accepted on condition that he partner with Rav Amital. Let me simply say that it is rare to see such an amazing partnership of mutual respect and love. But Rav Amital's humility allowed that to happen.

When he once gave a political speech in Yeshiva, he allowed his student (Hanan Porat), a leading Right Winger, to get up and take the podium immediately afterwards , to give a different perspective.

He believed that each person needed to find their truth. When asked by Shimon Peres what the political stance of Yeshivat Har Etzion was, he said the following:

Our stance has 3 principles.

First, that every problem of the nation must deeply bother every student.
Second, that the students must think about the problem carefully, long and hard, evaluating the arguments and implications to the full.
Third, we have no political stance – each student must make up their own mind.

The Crying Baby

No one can talk about Rav Amital without mentioning his famous story of the crying baby. It goes like this: That Rabbi Schneur Zalman of Liadi was studying Torah, heard the crying of his infant grandson. The elder rebbe rose from his studying and soothed the baby to sleep. Meanwhile, his son, the boy’s father, was too involved in his study to hear the baby cry. When R. Zalman noticed his son’s lack of involvement, he proclaimed, “If someone is studying Torah and fails to hear the cry of a Jewish baby, there is something very wrong with his learning.”

Rav Amital believed that everyone had a sense of mission to the Jewish people. That when the baby cried, one had to engage, to alleviate the pain. When they built the unconventional architectural structure of the Har Etzion Beit Midrash, the architect had planned the modern design without windows. He insisted that the Yeshiva have big windows. Why? Because the Beit Midrash must be connected to the people, to Am Yisrael.

There was so much more to Rav Amital. His attachment to all of Am Yisrael. His beautiful, elevating tear-stained davening on the Yamim Noraim.

As was said at the funeral, Rav Amital was a wonderful fusion of idealism and pragmatism, of conservatism and change, of misnagdic intellectualism and hassidic-mysticism, of the Beit-Midrash and the needs of the nation. However, unlike the Brisker dialectic weighing and balancing the two perspectives and reaching some manner of resolution, Rav Amital's moderation was visceral, seamless and spontaneous, rather than dialectical or intellectual. In this regard, I always saw his expertise and mastery of שו"תים - the Responsa literature – as a reflection of his connection to life, pragmatism, real people and their problems, rather than an inclination to theoretical scholarly ponderings.

There is so much that I owe him that it is difficult to describe. His ideas and students will live on. I am privileged to have studied with such a giant of the spirit, such a loving, God-fearing Rav, a true guide to the perplexing times in which we live.

Israel at its Best

I have decided, in honour of the Three Weeks, to write several posts that tell positive stories about Am Yisrael, or discuss optimistic trends in Israeli society. I am an optimist at heart, and I genuinely feel that if we could only focus and amplify the good energies that exist all around us, we could certainly alleviate much of the discord that separates us and threatens to divide us further.

So, here is today's story:

I flew to London last week. Sitting next to me on the plane was a man, probably a few years my junior. I decided to make some polite conversation seeing that we would be quite literally rubbing shoulders for the next five hours. It transpired that the man was a businessman, a senior sales executive for a large UK printing machinery business and had spent 2 days visiting clients in Israel. I asked him how he had found his experience here, wondering whether he would tell me about rude Israelis and sub-standard service. But he told a different story. It went something like this.

"Well, I got to my hotel in Tel Aviv at night and couldn't quite get a feel for the place, but when i woke up in the morning, well - what a beautiful beach; just stunning! And then up to Haifa and the Jezreel Valley. Very hot, but you have a beautiful country."

Well I couldn't agree more! Good so far, but it gets better. He then continued:

"My client drove all the way down from Haifa to pick me up from my hotel. They took me out to eat and were wonderful company. They even drove me to my meeting with one of their competitors, and waited for me patiently in the car until I had completed my meeting. at the end of the day they drove me back to my hotel. Their warmth and hospitality was quite overwhelming."

His closing comment put a big smile on my face:

"This trip has set new standards of hospitality for me. It has really made me think about how we treat our business partners when they visit us in the UK. We don't drive them around or accompany them home after a meeting. We certainly have a great deal to learn from the generosity and hospitality of you Israelis."

That company in Haifa should get an Israel Business award! What a Kiddush Hashem! Nice to hear about the positive aspects of our people and our country.

Shiurim on Melakhim Aleph

This year I wrote shiurim on Sefer Melakhim Aleph for Yeshivat Har Etzion's VBM.

I am excited to say that all 29 shiurim are archived are available here.

Enjoy!

Oh! Maybe I should add that the writing of a high level weekly shiur (over and above all my other work) has proved so overwhelming that it absolutely sapped any energy that I had for writing/blogging this year. (I hope that a few readers noticed that my blogging has basically lapsed this year!) I hope that over the summer, I will have some more time and head-space to devote to thinking and commenting on Torah, contemporary Israel, and the Jewish world.

Lehitraot!

Yom Hazikaron/Haatzmaut

Here are some posts from previous years that might give you pause for though during these special days:

Standing for the siren - a poem

Who should bring the redemption? A Devar Torah for parashat Metzora

Hallel on Yom Haatzmaut

Enjoy!

National Treasure - the Key to our Future

I have to say how excited I am about PM Netanyahu's latest theme: Israeli and Jewish heritage. It all began with his speech at the Herzlia Conference:

Tonight, I refer to something even more basic. I am talking about educating children about the values connected to our identity and heritage, teaching children to know our people’s history, educating young people and adults to deepen our ties to one another and to this place.

I believe that this education starts, first and foremost, in the Book of Books – in the Bible – a subject that is close to my heart these days. It starts there. It moves through the history of our people: the Second Temple, the Middle Ages, the Enlightenment, leaving the ghettos, the rise of Zionism, the modern era, the wars fought for Israel’s existence – the history of Zionism and of Israel. A people must know its past in order to ensure its future.

There is a well-known story about Napoleon. One day, he passed by a synagogue on Tisha B’Av and he heard the weeping of the worshippers. He asked what they were crying about, and the Jews told him: “We are weeping because our Temple was destroyed.” He asked: “How can it be that I heard nothing about this?” He liked knowing what was going on. He wasn’t really interested, but he would have received a report. So the worshippers told him: “Sir, it happened more than 1,700 years ago.” And he told them: “A people capable of remembering its past so clearly has a guaranteed future.”

But the opposite is also true. Yigal Alon said so. He said that a people that doesn’t remember its past, its present is uncertain and its future is unclear. In other words, our existence depends not only on a weapons system, our military strength, the strength of our economy, our innovation, our exports,or on all these forces that are indeed essential. It depends, first and foremost, on the knowledge and national sentiment we as parents bestow on our children, and as a state to its education system. It depends on our culture; it depends on our cultural heroes; it depends on our ability to explain the justness of our path and demonstrate our affinity for our land – first to ourselves and then to others.

We must remind ourselves that if our feeling of serving a higher purpose dissipates, if our sources of spiritual strength grow weak, then – as Yigal Alon said – our future will also be unclear. It will happen if our young generation is not committed to our people and our country; if they do not love the pioneering spirit, if they do not travel our country, if they do not want to mobilize and sacrifice – then our future is truly unclear.

I am far from a Netanyahu fan, and I frequently feel a sense of depair that our country fails to address these fundamental issues. Now that Netanyahu has made this his pet project, including funding of 500 million NIS for a new "heritage trail" (see below) and today's cabinet meeting at Tel Chai, I am delighted to see education, Zionism and Jewish heritage on the national agenda. This represents an understanding that:

לא בחיל ולא בכח כי ברוחי - that it is not military might, but spritual fortitude that is the key to our success. (paraphrasing Zecharia ch.3)

In an era of "Big Brother" and "Survivor", how desperately we need this initiative. Ihope it is just the beginning.

And lest you think that Netanyahu is cooking up the entire thing as a right-wing political move, we should congratulate his son for winning the Jerusalem region Tanakh contest. These competitions are fiercely difficult, and his son's determination demonstrates how deeply the value of Tanakh has been instilled within him. I imagine that his father must have some share in that.

(p.s. The fact that the trail includes Gush Etzion: the sound and light show at Kfar Etzion, the Biyar aquaduct which lead to the Temple, and Herodian, is all the more exciting!)

Rav Yoel Bin Nun on Parashat Yitro

The power of questions

There is a frequently quoted story related by Isadore Rabi, the Jewish Nobel prize winner. When he was asked why he became a scientist, he replied:

"My mother made me a scientist without ever intending it. Every other Jewish mother in Brooklyn would ask her child after school: 'So? Did you learn anything today?' But not my mother. She always asked me a different question. 'Izzy,' she would say, 'did you ask a good question today?' That difference - asking good questions -made me become a scientist!''

In other words, it is asking good questions that makes a good scientist - a curious relentless mind.

Well, we might ask, what character trait, what action or disposition creates a good Rabbi? This is an interesting question, and I am sure that many people will offer an entire range of answers. However, last night I witnessed something that deeply impressed me, which to my mind, shows the making of one excellent Rabbi.

I was at a symposium yesterday; a panel discussion about Pesak Halakha. There were a number of speakers, and the audience were encouraged to offer questions to the panel in writing, via the chairman. Many people wrote their questions on slips of paper, and by the evening's end, there was a pile of 30 or so questions on the dais, in front of the moderator of the discussion.

At the end of the evening, the hall was pretty empty and I saw a young man, a prospective semikha student, sitting at the dais and copying out the notes, the questions. I was rather curious as to what he was doing and so I asked him. He responded:

"If I am going to be a Rabbi, I have to know what issues are really bothering people. Those issues are in these questions."

This young Yeshiva student had come to hear the answers given by the panel, but he was ultimately interested in the questions, the dilemmas and concerns that were bothering the rest of the audience. I was really impressed.

So what quality makes a Rabbi? The ability to understand what is bothering the people. Not to ask your questions, but to be attentive to the questions of others! That sense of caring, that empathy, that attention to the problems and worries, to the needs and hopes of Am Yisrael, will prove to be a winning trait to at least one young aspiring Rav. I am sure he will succeed beyond all expectations.

We can all learn a lesson from his example.

לשמוע ללמוד וללמד
before we learn and teach, we need to listen. To whom? To God? To He who gives the Torah at Sinai? Yes, maybe. But equally possible, is that we have to listen to the heart of human beings. The first stage is to be sensitive and attentive to the emotions and sensitivities that surround us. Then, with great wisdom and insights, compassion and love, we may understand their lives, hopes and dreams. Then we learn, and we will begin to comprehend how the Torah that we study and analyze can apply, can interface with the people. That is when "learning" transforms itself into "teaching."

Hannukah Sameach

New Melachim shiur

You might have noticed that I have been rather "silent" for the past 3 weeks. Yes -I haven't been writing any posts.

The reason is that I am exceptionally busy writing a new series on Sefer Melakhim for the Virtual Beit Midrash of Har Etzion. It is a challenging project in that whereas I have taught Melakhim countless times, I now have the task of transforming my classes into written form. I spend endless hours thinking about how to structure the articles, and despite the pressure, I am finding the process exhilarating.

My first two shiurim may be accessed here and here.

The Momentum of Chag

Jewish Festivals are so total, so enveloping. I can almost imagine Jackie Mason in a skit saying something to the effect of:

The Gentiles, when they have a festival, what do they do? - They make a party, they eat in the living room, they drink, exchange gifts. It's fun, it's relaxed.
But us - we build a shack, we shvitz to put up a rickety hut, and then we sleep in it and eat in it - and we call that a holiday? We clean the house on our knees, and wash the curtains and wipe down the kitchen and change our entire kitchen round, and eat indigestible matza - and we say: That's a Holiday! Ah! - A Yom Tov!
On their new year, they make a drunken party and sleep all day with a hangover. On our New Year, we get up early, and spend half the day in shul!
Some Festival!

Jewish Festivals do have their grueling aspects at times. But I love them. and I love them precisely because they are so overwhelming, so all-encompassing.

Take the Yamim Noraim. The Shofar 30 days before, the selichot - getting up early in an intense vigil of chanting, day by day. And then the symbolic foods, the Shofar, the prayer service, and the intensity of the Asseret Ymai Teshuva. It all crescendos perfectly at Neila. Even for a person who isn't prepared in any particular way, the acts of our tradition create a certain momentum, they propel a person forward, thrusting him or her into the mood, the themes, the ideas, the mindset of that particular time of year with totality and immersion.

Take Sukkot which we just celebrated. The lead-up straight after Yom Kippur, with buliding the Sukka, and then decorating it, buying the Arba'ah Minim, cutting Aravot. It's an entire mobilisation. And then Chag itself, when we try to spend as much time possible in the Sukka, eating, relaxing, I even took my laptop out to the Sukka, and we had an entire family sleep-in for 7 days as we all slept in the Sukka. Not to mention Hallel with Arba'ah Minim and Hoshanot each day. And here in Israel, the kids are off school, and we are off work. The country is filled with a variety of music and arts Festivals, and people are all out enjoying themselves. It has a real Holiday feel! Suddenly, the Chag starts weaving its magic. As one lies in the Sukka and the flimsy roof over one's head, the deliberate move away from the creature comforts of one's bedroom and living room, one is inexorably prompted to ponder the deeper meaning sof the Chag, and behaviourly, existentially, the Holiday begins to penetrate, to infiltrate to seep into our minds and souls.

And similarly for Pesach, and other special times of the year, for example the Three Weeks. What is phenomenal is that the more intensely and comprehensively one observes the laws, rites, traditions and practices of the Holiday, the more it envelops your reality, weaving a magical web, and literally reframing one's environment. It is as if life were a stage, and suddenly the backdrop, the scenery and soundtrack were able to generate an entirely new vista, a radically different world, a fresh mode of living, with its unique texture , sounds, smells, feelings, thoughts, a different mood, a new reality.

I think that it is only in recent years that I have become more sensitive and aware to the power of the Chag and its Laws in generating the atmosphere and content of the moment. When in school, we spend ages studying about the upcoming Holidays. we learn the customs, and songs, the ideas and the texts. We are over-primed!

But as life is more busy with kids and work, I have felt (even as a teacher, teaching my students about the Chag) that I have less and less time to work my brain into the correct atmosphere and mindset. With all the hectic preparations, we frequently dash out the shower to shul for YomTov without having engaged ourselves in deeper thought about the chag! It is here that the comprehensive nature of our tradition, the huge numbers of traditions and Halakhot, the physical investment in building the Sukka, or burning the Hametz, and then the rhythm and tempo of the Chag itself, begin to have that amazing effect of penetrating our psyche, our consciousness, as the content and inner spirit of the Chag begin to spread their special aroma throughout our minds, body and soul.

I'm looking forward to Channukah already!

Etrog Upside Down

How do you make the bracha on the Lulav and Etrog? I remember being taught that one should invert the Etrog to an upside down position when saying the bracha. Why? We don't hold our Kiddush cup upside down? What is the source of this practice?


THE MITZVA OF TAKING. NOT SHAKING!

First a few comments about the precise definition of the mitzva of Lulav.

A widespread misconception about the mitzva of Arba Minim is that we perform the mitzva by SHAKING the Lulav and Etrog. This is not true. The Torah states (Vayikra 23:40) “On the first day of sukkot, you shall TAKE the fruit of the beautiful tree and a palm branch .... and rejoice before the Lord your God”. The mitzva is simply to take the Lulav (and not to shake it). By the very act of PICKING UP the Lulav and Etrog, I have already performed the mitzva.

(NB - Taking it to shul in a container does not constitute the mitzva, since it must be performed ‘bederech kavod’; in a dignified way (O.CH 651:6) and having the Arba Minim in a box is not a dignified taking).


BRACHA FOLLOWED DIRECTLY BY THE MITZVA

This definition of the mitzva provides a serious halachik difficulty as regards the recitation of the bracha on the Lulav.

There is a general principle of Brachot: A bracha must directly precede the action that it is being recited for, in the most immediate manner (Sukka 39a). This is the rule of “oveir le’assiatan”- that the bracha must be recited at the moment of performance of the mitzva or act concerned. An example would be a bracha for food. We hold the food in our hand and make the bracha and then immediately take our first taste of the food. The action should follow on smoothly from the bracha.

How does this work with Arba Minim? If I say the bracha without holding the Arba Minim, I will not be able to follow the brach with immediate performance of the mitzva. It frequently takes a while to get organised with the Lulav and Etrog. By the time we put down our machzor from the bracha and pick up the Lulav and Etrog from their respective boxes, we have already seperated the bracha from the mitzva by a significant pause!

Even if we can cut down the time, the ROSH brings the example of tefillin. When putting on tefillin, we make a bracha when they are already on our arm but before firmly tightening them. We do not make the bracha while they are still in the bag. A bracha must be recited at the moment one is primed for action!

How do we apply this principle regarding our Lulav and Etrog?



SOLUTIONS

How do we have the Lulav and Etrog in our hands, ready to do the mitzva without fulfilling the mitzva? A number of solutions are presented in the Rishonim (medieval halachists).

1. Inverted: The ROSH gives the most famous suggestion. One cannot perform the mitzva of Arba Minim unless each species are held upright. He suggests that we take our Lulav and and then pick up the Etrog upside down. In this way, I am ready to perform the mitzva but I have not yet fulfilled it. I make the bracha and turn the Etrog around to an upright position and I have now performed the mitzva!

In this situation one must PICK UP the Etrog in an already inverted position. It doesn’t help to invert the Etrog after I have already handled it normally because I will already have been holding the entire Arba Minim upright before the bracha!

2. Intent: A further option suggested by the ROSH is to expressedly have intention NOT to fulfill the mitzva until after the bracha. The Aruch Hashulchan rejects this as regular practice because those who are looking on , not knowing the intention of the person concerned, will follow the actions of the person and miss saying the bracha before the act of the mitzva. In addition, people don’t remember all the details of Arba Minim from year to year. They will remember what they DID but not necessarily the accompanyimg THOUGHT!

3. Hold the Lulav ONLY for the bracha: The THIRD OPTION suggested is to pick up the Lulav leaving the Etrog in it’s box, make the bracha and then immediately take the Etrog into one’s hand.

The SHULCHAN ARUCH (651:5) takes options 1 and 3 as recommended.

“ One should make the blessing of “al netilat Lulav” and “shehechiyanu” before
picking up the Etrog in order to recite the blessing in conjunction to the
performance of the mitzva.

Alternatively , one should invert the Etrog until one has made the blessing”

QUESTION:

If one picks up the Lulav and Etrog in the normal way and forgot about all these restrictions, is a person still allowed to say the bracha? The answer is Yes.


Why?

The Mishna Berura(#36) states that despite the fact that one fulfills the mitzva without having shaken the Lulav, the shaking of the Arba Minim represents a higher dimension of the basic performance of the mitzva. It is on this added dimension that one is allowed to make a bracha if one picked up the Arba Minim without using the methods above. One should simply make the bracha before shaking the Lulav and Etrog.

Did we sit in Sukkot in the Wilderness?

“You shall live in Sukkot (booths) for seven days, all citizens in Israel shall
live in Sukkot (booths); in order that future generations may know that I made
the Israelite people live in booths, when I brought them out of the Land of
Egypt, I am the Lord your God.” (23:41-43)

The Torah informs us that the Sukkot, the huts or booths in which we reside for the week of Chag Hassukot correspond to a specific historical reality. God “made the Israelite people live in booths” during the Exodus from Egypt, and we imitate and simulate that collective experience on Chag Hassukot. Now, this familiar passuk has always raised a number of questions. What exactly does the Torah mean when it speaks about God housing us in "Sukkot" during the Egyptian Exodus? What booths is the verse referring to? Does the Torah record such an event?

Most readers are probably familiar with the Talmudic discussion in Sukka 11b:

‘I made the Israelite people live in booths.’
It refers to the “clouds of glory” said Rabbi Eliezer.
Rabbi Akiva says: God made real Sukkot for them.

For Rabbi Eliezer, the booths of the wilderness are the miraculous protective "Clouds of Glory." For Rabbi Akiva, God's booths are real huts in which the Israelites lived during their years of sojourning in the wilderness. Let us investigate this relationship between the past and the present. How do our Sukkot relate to the booths of the Exodus? We shall take our cue from Rabbi Eliezer and Rabbi Akiva and investigate their respective opinions.

CLOUDS OF GLORY

Rabbi Eliezer talks about Ananei HaKavod – Clouds of Glory. What are these clouds? The Mekhilta offers us some clarity:

"There were seven clouds[1]: Four of them to each side/direction (of the Israelites), one was above them and another below their feet. A further cloud would pass in front of them leveling the valleys and flattening the mountains." (Mekhilta Beshalach 1)

We are dealing with a miraculous phenomenon whereby mysterious clouds with protective and other powers shielded and eased the path of B’nei Yisrael as they trekked through the wilderness. According to Rabbi Eliezer, the Sukkot that we inhabit mirror and reflect the cloud-experience of the wilderness. But how?

Obviously, this concept has its advantages and disadvantages. Advantages will include a straightforward reading of the passuk: I placed the Israelite people in sukkot. This is a Godly form of envelopment and protection, and hence God's protective clouds might fit the bill.

REAL BOOTHS?

But for adherents of the peshat approach to Chumash the Anannei Hakavod are a red flag. After all, the text of the Chumash never mentions clouds leveling mountains, or clouds under the feet of the Israelites! Those who adopt a more rational mode of thought and more text oriented approach are immediately attracted to the more realistic proposition by Rabbi Akiva, that the Israelites lived in huts, shelters. After all, if we are commanded to live in huts in commemoration of the booths of our ancestors in the wilderness, we should assume that B’nei Yisrael did indeed live in huts!

They are in good company. The Ibn Ezra also didn't favour the theory of Annanei Hakavod very much!

THE APPROACH OF THE IBN EZRA

"Some of the early scholars said that there were seven clouds, but to my mind, there were only two, and possibly only a single cloud." (Ibn Ezra)

The Ibn Ezra is commenting on the verse in Shemot that informs us that the Am Yisrael were lead by a cloud as we departed from Egypt:

"The Lord went before them in a pillar of cloud by day, to guide them along the way, and in a pillar of fire by night, to give them light, that they may travel by day and night. " (Shemot 13:21)

The Ibn Ezra reads that verse in the following manner:

"A pillar of cloud by day, to guide them: to show them the route. It also protected them[2], and this is the meaning of the phrase (in Tehillim 105:39) 'He spread a cloud as a screen.'
A pillar of fire by night, to give them light – It might be that the pillar of fire was within the pillar of cloud at night, as its states (Shemot 40:38) 'fire will be within it at night.'
That they may travel by day and night: They traveled around the clock … These clouds, if there were two, remained with them until the crossed the Yam Suf (Reed Sea) but in my opinion, they then ceased to accompany them for there wasn't a need to travel at night after Pharaoh and his army had drowned in the Sea. (Shemot. Peirush Katzar 13:21)

But questions remain. And the most significant of them is the origins of Sukkot. If we have debunked the theory of the "Clouds of Glory," then what are the Sukkot that Bnei Yisrael lived in during the wilderness era?

The Ibn Ezra answers:

"…Near Mt. Sinai was a forest of Acacia trees. When they arrived there (Sinai) and were told that they would reside there for some time – and there was no (protective) cloud as I have already explained – each person constructed a hut … and they cut down the entire forest…." (Ibn Ezra . Peirush HaAroch Shemot 25:5)

the Ibn Ezra's theory helps explain what the Biblical Sukkot were, but it also goes some way to inform regarding the source of the wood that the people contributed to the construction of the Mishkan.

So this is a neat answer. But, is it correct?

OTHER EVIDENCE – WHAT DWELLINGS DID ISRAEL LIVE IN?

Let us check it out. Did the Israelites live in wood huts? Did they chop down a forest? Many places record the manner in which Bnei Yisrael dwelt in TENTS[3] , termed Mishkan or Ohel:

"And they (Moshe and Yitro) went into the tent." (Shemot 18:7)

"And the people bowed down, each person at the doorway of his tent" (Shemot 33:10)

"and Datan and Aviram emerged defiant at the portal of their tents." (Bamidbar 16:27)

"How comely are your tents O Jacob, your dwelling places (mishkenotecha) O Israel." (Bamidbar 24:5)

In each place they talk about tents, and the term "Sukkot/Sukka" are noticeably absent! In fact, other than the Festival of Sukkot, that word is NEVER used as a term for a home for Bnei Yisrael when they are in the Wilderness! Never![4]

So, we are stuck. Because the Israelites lived in OHALIm and not SUKKOT. And now we are raising serious doubts as to the identity of the living shelters that housed Bnei Yisrael during their forty years in the wilderness. if our Sukkot commemorate the huts of the Midbar, do they refer to the physical object of a Sukka! Where does this leave us?

S"CH"CH

So let us investigate the verb S"CH"CH which is the grammatical root of the sukka. What does that word tell us? (Look up the root in the concordance!)

If you examine virtually every instance of the verb S"CH"CH in the Tanach, it refers to God's protection in some way. More specifically, it frequently refers to Temple references[5], but that is far from exclusive. The overwhelming majority refer to God as directly shielding or protecting a person:

"You shielded my head on the day of war" (Tehillim 140:8)
"With his wing he shelters you" (Tehillim 91)

This is about basking in the divine presence, or being protected by Him.

Or, for example, the Ark of the Covenant has cherubs that are "shielding – sochechim - with their wings over the Kapporet" The Ark is the place where God's presence is manifest! "and I will speak to you … from between the Cherubs" (Shemot 25:18)

And now I am understanding that this verb is dealing with God's protection, or even more than that, with God's Presence itself!

And I recall the passuk in Shemot: "God's presence – Kevod Hashem – appeared in CLOUD" (Shemot 16:10) Are ANNANEI KAVOD in truth, a metaphor for God's presence, his manifest protection?

And here I find myself coming full-circle. We are back to the start. We began by hearing Chazal talk about seven protective divine clouds. It sounded bizarre, textually unfounded, too supernatural. So we explored Tanach for a rational physical booth within which to understand the phenomenon of the sukkot of the Wilderness. And now, with a linguistic analysis, we understand that in truth, the word "sukka" refers quite directly to God protecting man.

In other words, the word "Sukka" refers quite clearly to the notion that we thrust our trust into God's hands and we rely upon Him. Or even further, that God allows us to have relationship with Him. Maybe this is actually the inner meaning of the Midrashic concept of the 7 protective clouds.

When we sit in our sukka this week, we are expected to allow our "home" to be rather more fragile than it usually is. But that very understanding – that we are limited and not absolutely able to control our personal and physical environment , our destiny – this very understanding affords us more "room " to recognize God's caring hand, God's presence in our lives

Wishing you a Chag Sameach!



[1] Interesting that in the Mekhikta, other views are offered:
Rabbi Yehuda – 13 clouds
Rabbi Yoshiya – 4 clouds
Rebbi – 2 clouds.
So there is far from consensus amongst the Tannaim on this point.
[2] The Ibn Ezra may be referring to Shemot 14:19 where we read how the "the pillar of cloud shifted from in front of them and took up place behind them. It came between the army of the Egyptians and the army of Israel … and one could not come near the other throughout the night."

Might this episode be one of the primary sources for the concept of Annanei Kavod - protective clouds - in each direction?

At any rate, the Ibn Ezra seems to think (on the basis of the verse in Tehillim) that the pillar of cloud spread itself wide over them to shield them from the scorching desert sun.
[3] See also Devarim 1:27, 5:27, and possibly Bamidbar 19:14
[4] One could claim, even with the Ibn Ezra, that they used the wood to create some sort of frame, and that the walls were made of cloth, and that this sort of wood-frame/cloth structure is known as an Ohel, a tent. That would assist us with logistical issues, but it still leaves us bewildered as to the word "Sukkot."
As for the word "Sukkkot", there IS a PLACE named Sukkot (Shemot 12:37; Bamidbar 33:5) which was their FIRST stop in the Wilderness after leaving Egypt. Might the Torah be relating the booth-Sukkoth to the place called Sukkoth? That seems unlikely. (– more about this at the end of the shiur)
[5] See the work of Yaakov Nagen from Yeshivat Otniel, who elaborates upon the Sukka-Mikdash connection or symmetry.

Like a Pomegranate

Pomegranate is a fruit that has become associated with Rosh Hashannah. The true origin of the connection might well be (as I can testify from the tree in my garden) that pomegranates ripen just around the time of Rosh Hashanna. The coin in the picture here is from the period of the Bar Kochba revolt and clearly contains an image of three pomegranates. This is an ancient Jewish symbol.

People frequently quote the Talmudic saying "even the empty are filled with mitzvot like a pomegranate" which appears several times in talmudic literature. (Brachot 57a and Sanhedrin 37a) It means that even the ignorant, or unworth of Israel, are filled with good deeds like a pomegranate.

But this statement is strange. I understand that the uneducated can possibly exhibit be piety. But what if the phrase "empty" here indicates an unworthy person? Why should the "empty" (reikanim" be filled with mitzvot like a pomegranate? If so, why are they "empty"? Clearly they AREN't filled with mitzvot or else they would be "full"! Then how is this famous saying to be understood?

I had an insight into this as I was scooping out the seeds from a pomegranate of Rosh Hashannah. The seeds are tough to extract, and one constantly finds hidden chambers with yet another few seeds, and then a further section with yet another few.

maybe THIS is what Chazal meant. Even the empty of Israel have Mitzvot in all sorts of unexpected places. This is certainly true. How often do we realise that even the most unlikely Jews keep many aspects of tradition, or engage in secret acts of kindness. These are the hidden pomegranate seeds that every Jew possesses. The point then is not that the "empty" are filled with seeds like a pomegranate, but rather that their seeds are not necessarily self evident.

Kapparot

What's your Kavanna?

I love this story from Rav Steinsaltz. (article entitled "Education for Prayer.")

In order to explain something about this subject of kavvanah, I will quote a well-known anecdote:
They tell of a simple Jew, almost an ignoramus, who stood on Rosh Hashanah and recited with great fervor the liturgical poems: "These and these shout with a shouting, these and these roar with a roaring…" They asked him why this great fervor over 'befetsah mefatshin', and what did he understand by these prayers?
The Jew answered, “What do I care what is written there? - I know that all of the prayers have one meaning: Master of the Universe, help us to make a living."

On the topic of Kavanna, see this post too.

Assaf Ramon z"l

The awful news of the death of Assaf Ramon has hit Israel by storm.

He was the eldest son of Ilan Ramon, Israel's only astronaut (and a pilot who bombed the Iraqi nuclear plant in 1976) who was killed so tragically before our eyes in the explosion of the Space Shuttle Columbia. We all watched on with tears in our eyes, how he wore his father's NASA jacket at his father's funeral. we watched with tears in our eyes as he graduated the pilot cadet course just a few months ago. And now, his plane has crashed. What a terrible tragedy for the family.

It is amazing how Ilan Ramon touched all of our lives. I wrote this at the time of his death, some 6 years ago:

The news that has occupied Israel over the past 24 hours is
the loss of the Space Shuttle Columbia and in particular,
our astronaut, Ilan Ramon. Israel has been overwhelmed with
a feeling of national sadness today. Despite the intifada
and the economy, Ilan Ramon struck a deep chord and his loss
has been devastating on a National scale. There has been
nothing else on the radio. All sectors of Israeli society
are subdued with this tragic news.

What particularly impressed me, and drew me to admire Ilan
Ramon, was his unusual sense of Jewish pride. He knew that
he was the first Israeli astronaut. Despite the fact that he
was not personally shomer mitzvot, he decided to eat kosher
on the space shuttle, to commemorate Shabbat by making
Kiddush, to recite Shema Yisrael as he passed over
Yerushalayim. He clearly had a deeply religious soul. In
addition, as a child of Holocaust suvivors, he took symbols
of the Holocaust, amongst them a Sefer Torah that was kept
in secret through the Shoah. This man understood that at the
heart of Jewish identity, is Shabbat, Kashrut, Sefer Torah,
Sh'ma; all this as an expression of Judaism, Holocaust and
Medinat Yisrael. For him there was no difference between
Jewish and Israeli. We did not simply have an astronaut in
space. We lost a precious person who represented so many
Jewish truths.

Today I heard a story that typifies his Jewish approach to
his Israeli-Jewish identity. The Chief Commander of the
Israel Air Force asked Ilan Ramon if there was anything that
he would like to take to Space to represent the IAF. Ramon
responded that he would like to carry to Space the Mezuza
from the IAF headquarters. Every connection had a Jewish
rootedness, certainly a very unusual trait to find.

May his family find comfort amongst the mourners of Tzion
and Yerushalayim. Today all of Tzion and Yeriushalayim was
mourning together with them. Tihye Nishmato Zerura Bitzror
Hachayim.

At the time, my son was just in first grade. The entire school had been following the Space mission. These little boys were all recommended to watch the launch of the Shuttle. And there was a huge picture of Ilan Ramon, saying "Ilan will be coming home in X days!" His science homework was to watch the live TV feed from the Shuttle. Ilan became every little Israeli boy's hero. And then on Motzaei Shabbat after Havdalla, when the shuttle crashed and we were watching it on live TV, I cannot even begin to tell you how my little son was crestfallen, in tears, besides himself. I recall quite clearly how he simply didn't know how to react. In the end, he sat down and drew a picture of a Space Shuttle eneveloped in fire. I kept the picture. It expressed the only way that my son could deal with his disappointment and sorrow.

I cannot forget the story of how each astronaut would get woken up one day of the mission with their favourite music. Ilan Ramon's wife Rona, woke him up with a famous Israeli love song. I must be honest that I cannot hear that song anyomore without tearing up and thinking of him. The words are:

זֶמֶר נוּגֶה

הֲתִשְׁמַע קוֹלִי, רְחוֹקִי שֶׁלִּי,
הֲתִשְׁמַע קוֹלִי, בַּאֲשֶׁר הִנְּךָ –
קוֹל קוֹרֵא בְּעֹז, קוֹל בּוֹכֶה בִּדְמִי
וּמֵעַל לַזְּמַן מְצַוֶּה בְּרָכָה?

תֵּבֵל זוֹ רַבָּה וּדְרָכִים בָּה רָב.
נִפְגָּשׁוֹת לְדַק, נִפְרָדוֹת לָעַד.
מְבַקֵּשׁ אָדָם, אַךְ כּוֹשְׁלוֹת רַגְלָיו,
לֹא יוּכַל לִמְצֹא אֶת אֲשֶׁר אָבַד.

אַחֲרוֹן יָמַי כְּבָר קָרוֹב אוּלַי,
כְּבָר קָרוֹב הַיּוֹם שֶׁל דִּמְעוֹת פְּרִידָה,
אֲחַכֶּה לְךָ עַד יִכְבּוּ חַיַּי,
כְּחַכּוֹת רָחֵל לְדוֹדָהּ.

Will you hear my voice so far away from me
Will you hear my voice where ever you are
A strong voice,
praying silently
And beyond time, it sends a blessing

This land is large and has many paths
We meet for a moment and separate for ever
A man tries, but his legs fail
He will never find what he has lost

My final days are very close
Near is the day of good bye tears
I will wait for you until my life will end
Like Rachel waited for her lover

I always find it so ironic that this classic Israeli love song, became so true with Ilan Ramon. Like an epitaph.

And now, his son, who chose to follow in his father's footsteps - a boy who everyone says was quite an exceptional young man filled with idealism - is dead, also finding his death in the air.

Words cannot quite come to grips with the depths of tragic emotion in a story like this.
As the Sephardi consolation line reads:
מן השמים תנוחם

Have you seen this video?

This is the new video from MASA that has aroused a huge controversy. MASA just publicised that they are pulling the plug on the ad (link.) If you haven't seen it, watch it now. Questions below...




(Who uploaded that with a spelling mistake?)

Is this ad offensive?
Does it assume that Jews cannot survive w-out assimilation outside Israel? - Is that incorrect?

So, the blogosphere is filled with discussion on this. See this and this.
Others simply raise the huge cost of this campaign and wonder whether MASA is using its money wisely (link).


But what struck me is the basic philosophy, this confidence that the greatest solution to stem assimilation is to come to Israel! I know that this is the premise upon which Birthright and other programs are predicated. I know the statistics show that it is successful. (This video is like a Zionist version of Aish HAtorah!)



But is Israel enough?

Is Israel alone the answer to assimilation?

And what of Judaism?

I recall, as a 16 year-old chanich in Bnei Akiva, discussing "Is it better to be a religious Jew in England or a secular Jew in Israel?" It was a silly discussion because one doesn't get that choice in life, but nonetheless, it raises the question.

Rav Yuval does it again! Violent tendencies and Religious alcohol abuse in the Rel-Zionist Community.

Rav Yuval Sherlo, once again demonstrates himself as one of the most courageous and clear-thinking Rabbis in Israel today.

In a recent article (link, and slightly skewed and tabloidified here in English) Rav Yuval warns about the potential to violent acts in the Religious-Zionist community here in Israel. His article comes after a frightening series of murders in Israel over recent weeks. Rav Yuval warns us that the religious community is not immune. Let me summarise a few points:

First, he stresses that just because we are religious , we are not unaffected by these problems. Just as the religious community has had to admit that it too has domestic violence, and a drug problem, so too, we may never assume that it is the secular - "them" - who are tainted by these social ills, and imagine that we are somehow insulated from them.

He then highlights a few areas of caution:

1. Violent language: Israeli popular language doesn't specialise in tact and subtlety. It is frequently crude and inflammatory. Violent speech creates an environment of violence.

2. Violent movies. In the religious world , parents prefer their sons watch violent action movies to the "other option", i.e. sexually explicit content. The result being that Religious youth watch a great deal of violent TV. Does this not have an effect?

3. Rav Sherlo warns about alcohol abuse in the religious community, especially under the guise of Hassidic tisches and the like. The rising Hasidic trends in the Religious-Zionist community, have lent a legitimacy to drinking in Yeshivot etc. He cautions that this drinking can lead to violent behaviour.

4. Political Violence. That there is an increasing legitimisation of political violence, whether in Mea Shearim, or other places (link). Rav Yuval warns that this violence will spin out of control.

Rav Sherlo's messages are vital and timely. I feel that the Religious Zionist community in which I live is far too carefree in these areas (link) and I frequently feel that that there is a thin line to violence and lawlessness that can be easily crossed. Just today, it sounds like there was a murder between Yeshiva students in Netanya (link). Maybe his words have come just in time. If only people would absorb his wisdom.

Unfortunately, not enough people will heed Rav Sherlo. He is seen as too moderate, Left-wing, and the like. But I am glad that there is someone that shares my concerns. He is one of our most farsighted, eloquent, thoughtful, and balanced leaders. I hope his influence continues to grow.