...

Are There Real Atheists in Israel?

Are There Real Atheists in Israel?

A lesson from the Parsha

 

About a year ago, Israeli news reported that Meretz, a left-wing party, had submitted legislation to criminalize the act of encouraging a minor to become religiously observant. It was immediately interpreted as an attempt to stop Chabad Rabbis from offering minors (although over Bar Mitzvah) to put on Tefillin, as they commonly do.
 
The new law obviously raised a ruckus. Leaders, celebrities and politicians came out criticizing the notion, lamenting the fact that there could be an attempt in the Jewish state to stop teenagers from wearing Tefillin — lest they become too religious. People were demonstrating in front of the Knesset members house – purposely putting on Tefillin as a way of solidarity. All over the news, people were publicly putting on Tefilin; TV anchors, talk show hosts, all over Facebook etc.
  
Two days after the news broke, the Knesset Member who had submitted the legislation posted a picture of her husband wearing Tallis and Tefillin. That picture drew attention; if her own husband wore Tefillin, it was unlikely that she would propose a law against it. When looking a little deeper into the subject, it was discovered that the entire crisis was ‘fake news.’ 
 
She never intended to outlaw the Tefillin campaign. Rather, the Meretz faction has a custom that whenever a new Knesset is inaugurated, they submit all the legislation of their faction which was rejected in previous Knessets. This time, she submitted fourteen hundred bills. Among them was a bill from 2005 which would criminalize the act of convincing a minor to become a full-fledged “Baal Teshuvah”. Needless to say, the Tefillin Campaign and Chabad weren’t mentioned at all.  
 
Moreover, this specific Knesset Member — who received all the ‘heat’ over the issue — was not the one who had written the bill; she had no interest in pursuing the matter. 
Her husband was interviewed on Israeli television. He explained that the law did not outlaw Tefillin at all; in fact, he personally wears Tefillin every day and identifies as a very traditional person. His wife, a member of the Meretz party is very respectful of his choices. Although she identifies as an atheist, out of respect for her husband she lights Shabbos candles each week and they make kiddush and hold a Shabbat dinner with their family. The entire story was fake news. 
 
When the new government was established, people were asking how a Prime Minister with a kippah would get along with left-leaning atheists. But since we’ve learned that these “atheists” light Shabbos candles, make kiddush and their husbands put on Tefillin each morning, we know that there is something very spiritual and very genuine that bonds the Jewish people in Israel together.  
Most Israelis are not religious. But in America, you don’t need to be religious to celebrate Chanukah or a Passover Seder. The same is true about Tefillin. You don’t need to be religious. The Rebbe transformed Tefillin into a classic Jewish symbol; just as it’s normal for a Jew to wear a “Chai” or star-of-David necklace, it’s normal for a Jew to lay Tefillin.
 
 
In Israel, the seat of the Prime Minister is dubbed, “the electric chair,” because Israeli leaders are under constant pressure about the Prime Minister’s abilities.
 
During their forty years in the desert, there were two occasions when the Israelites sang a special song of thanksgiving to G-d. The first, famously, was when they crossed the sea. The second, much lesser-known song, appears in this week’s reading. It is called “the song of the well.” The first song was recited right at the beginning of their sojourn in the desert, and this song was recited at its very end. The first one was sung after crossing through water, and this song is related to water as well. Here, the Israelites thank G-d for giving them the well of Miriam which provided them with fresh drinking water throughout the forty years in the desert. 
 
When you compare the two songs, you discover something interesting. The Song of the Sea begins with the words, “So sang Moshe and the People of Israel.” This song, however, begins with “So sang the People of Israel.” It is quite bizarre; why does Moshe not appear in the song? After all, he was still alive!
 
When it was time to sing the Song of the Sea, Moshe did not have the People of Israel recite it on their own. Like a teacher reciting with his students, Moses said it together with them…after forty years, they ‘graduated’; they began to sing the song on their own. They said, ‘G-d, Your task is to do miracles and our task is to sing praise to You.'”
 
The Midrash separates the two songs: At the Song of the Sea, the People of Israel were like children; Moses needed to recite the song with them. But at the Song of the Well, the people had matured. They were already ‘old enough’ to do it on their own, without the guidance of Moshe.
 
But when you compare the two songs, you’ll notice that the Song of the Well pales in comparison to the Song of the Sea. The Song of the Well is just a few short verses, compared to the extensive delivery at the Song of the Sea. Which is better? The Song of the Sea, composed by Moshe — the greatest prophet of all time, or the Song of the Well, composed by the People of Israel?
 
The answer is found in this song’s opening verse: “Ali bi’er, enu lah, come up, O well, call out to it.” The Jewish people are like a well. The soul of a person is like a wellspring of water. Here, G-d calls out to the Jewish people, “Come up, well,” make your own personal effort to sing to G-d. It’s alright if your song is a short one because G-d wants it to be yours. A song written by Moses is nice, but a song of the people is the most precious of all. 
 
A leader might seem irreplaceable, but this week’s Parsha reminds us: It’s all about the people.
...

Jewlarious Jokes 7/8/22

Jewlarious Jokes:

To begin Shabbat with a laugh
 
A Russian military officer is out for a ride and comes to a shtetl. He sees a barn. One side is covered with targets. In the center of each target is one bullet hole. Never in his life has he seen such perfect marksmanship. He notices an old Jewish man weeding a vegetable patch nearby. “I am the best marksmen I have every met and get first prize in each contest I enter. But this is the best I have ever seen. Who is the marksman?” “The old man shyly says that he fired all the bullets. “But how could you be so accurate?” The old Jew says, “First I fired the bullets, then I painted the targets.” 
 
***
 
It’s 10pm when the phone rings in Dr. Stein’s house. “It’s Dr. Gold,” says his wife, passing him the phone, “I do hope it’s not another emergency.”
Dr. Stein takes the phone and says, “Hi, what’s up?”
“Don’t worry, everything’s OK,” replies Dr. Gold. “It’s just that I’m at home with Dr. Lewis and Dr. Kosiner. We’re having a little game of poker and we’re short of one hand so we thought you might like to come over and join us?”
“Sure …. yes, of course,” replies Dr. Stein, putting on a serious voice, “I’m leaving right now.” And he puts down the phone.
“What’s happened?” his wife asks, with a worried look.
“It’s very serious,” Dr. Stein replies. “They’ve already called three doctors.”
 
***
 
Someone stole Marvin’s coat at a restaurant.
He asked the waiter, “Did you see the guy who took my coat?”
“Yes, Sir,” he replied.
“What did he look like?”
“Ridiculous,” the waiter stated. “The sleeves were far too short.”
...

What Really is a “Rebbe”?

What Really is a “Rebbe”?

A lesson from the Parsha

 

Sing Sing is the name of a famous prison in New York State. One fine day back in the 1980s, the famous Rabbi Yitzchak Dovid Grossman of Israel, while visiting New York, got a phone call from Rabbi Binyomin Klein—one of the Rebbe’s secretaries. Rabbi Klein was calling from a phone in the Rebbe’s car, which was a rarity back in those days. Rabbi Klein told Rabbi Grossman that he was calling from the Ohel, the resting place of the Rebbe’s father-in-law. 
 
The Rebbe himself at that moment was visiting the Ohel. The Rebbe would visit the Ohel frequently and would bring with him all the letters that he had received from all over the world in which people had asked him to pray for them. The Rebbe would stand next to the Previous Rebbe’s monument and read those letters at length for hours on end. The Rebbe would also leave many of them at the Ohel. So during the times that the Rebbe would be spiritually bonding with his father-in-law, the Previous Rebbe, no one would be on the site with him—it was the Rebbe alone. The secretaries would merely wait for the Rebbe outside the Ohel until the Rebbe finished. 
 
So that day, the Rebbe suddenly stopped his prayers, exited the small booth at the Ohel in which he would stand, summoned the secretary and told him that he knew that Rabbi Grossman was currently located in the United States. The Rebbe wanted Rabbi Klein to call Rabbi Grossman and ask him to go visit a Jewish prisoner currently serving his sentence in New York’s Sing Sing prison. 
 
Now, Rabbi Grossman had received the request from the Rebbe in the late hours of the afternoon. So Rabbi Grossman asked Rabbi Klein if it were possible for him to visit Sing Sing the next day, or if it were something had to get done now. Rabbi Klein replied that if the Rebbe had interrupted his prayers at the Ohel to ask him to call Rabbi Grossman, then obviously the issue could not bear any postponement. 
 
So Rabbi Grossman got the name of the prisoner from Rabbi Klein, canceled all of his appointments for the rest of the day, and had his driver transport him directly to Sing Sing, located in Ossining, New York. 
 
Now, Rabbi Grossman did not know how he was supposed to even get into the prison. He had no entry card or credentials of any sort. Besides, he wasn’t even a U.S. citizen! But the Lubavitcher Rebbe had spoken, and so he set out at once. Upon arrival, he approached the main gate and declared that he had come to visit Prisoner So-and-so—and to his surprise, they admitted him right away! It looked like they had almost been waiting for him to arrive. 
It shortly became clear that this prisoner was an Israeli doctor who had moved to the U.S. and had been incarcerated on suspicion of some grave crime. He had been sentenced to life in prison. Over the past several days, this prisoner had attempted suicide twice. When a rabbi arrived who had said that he wanted to speak to that prisoner, the prison let him in with open arms. 
 
Rabbi Grossman met with the doctor, encountering a man burnt out, depressed and hopeless. Rabbi Grossman broke the ice, opening with, “I bring regards for you. The Lubavitcher Rebbe sent me to visit you here.” Upon hearing that, the doctor burst into tears. 
 
The doctor went on to say that he had given up on life. His freedom had been taken from him. He was no longer a human being. Here he was, an outstanding doctor who had helped so many people, now reduced to needing help from other people. He then said: “Rabbi, I’m sick of life! I want to end it all.” So Rabbi Grossman started talking to him, telling him that he was a Jew and that G-d loved him, and that he could still turn things around, etc.” “Not me,” pouted the doctor. “I’m too far gone.” 
 
At that moment, Rabbi Grossman remembered the words he had heard from the Rebbe at the last farbrengen he had attended. At that time, the Rebbe had commented on the verse in Tehilim, “From the rear and the front You encompassed me,” which refers to Adam, who is considered the first and last creation in all of Creation. 
 
Now, seemingly, it’s pretty clear from the text of Genesis that Adam was the last thing created on Friday, the sixth day of Creation, after all of Creation had come to be. So then what does Tehilim mean when it says that Adam was also the first creation? How do you reconcile that? 
 
According to the Midrash, Adam’s body had indeed been created last. However, his soul had been created first—even before the creation of the angels. And that’s what the Midrash means when it also says, “If a person is meritorious, he is told, ‘You preceded the Ministering Angels,’ and if not, he is told, ‘The fly preceded you’”
 
The Rebbe said that here, our Sages are telling us something wonderful—that even should a person feel degraded, to the point that he feels lower than the animals, that may be true only with regards to his body—but his soul, the G-dly soul within him, stands above everything. 
 
The imprisoned doctor sat and wept, and then asked, “That’s what the Rebbe said?” 
 
Well, Rabbi Grossman went back to Brooklyn and reported to the Rebbe that he had met with the Jewish prisoner. The Rebbe was very gratified, and encouraged Rabbi Grossman to continue visiting him. Throughout that week, Rabbi Grossman came back to see the doctor every day. He reported to the Rebbe that he had put on tefillin with the prisoner, and asked the Rebbe if he should try to bring him a little closer to Judaism. The Rebbe told him that he should just concentrate on giving him morale. 
 
From then on, whenever Rabbi Grossman would visit New York, he would go visit that one Jewish prisoner. Over the course of the years, fortunately, the prisoner was released and went back to Israel. Just over a year ago, the doctor passed away. 
 
Rabbi Grossman finished the story by saying that to this day, he has no idea how the Rebbe knew about this one prisoner. Rabbi Grossman himself had never heard of him—and in fact, the prisoner himself had never written or approached the Rebbe. But the Rebbe worried about him. 
 
Now, I’d like to share with you another short story. 
 
Back in 1988, on the night of the 22nd of Shvat of that year, after 60 years of marriage to the Rebbe, Rebbetzin Chaya Mushka suddenly passed away. She had not been especially ill. She had suffered an internal bleed in the stomach and passed on right away. 
 
The Rebbe was very broken. The Rebbe had had no children. His brothers had died many years earlier. The Rebbetzin had been with him throughout for 60 years, and with one fell swoop, it was all cut away. There were no words to describe how broken the Rebbe looked, and it weighed on everyone’s heart. 
In the morning, they brought the Rebbetzin’s body from the hospital back home. The Rebbe came out to receive the bier. The pain on the Rebbe’s face was heartbreaking. The next day at noon, the funeral took place. 
 
That same morning, the personal physician of the Rebbe and Rebbetzin, Dr. Ira Weiss of Chicago, arrived to be with the Rebbe at this difficult time. He stood by the Rebbe’s side at the time of the actual burial, supporting the Rebbe. 
Dr. Weiss remained in New York for several days, to be with the Rebbe.
 
Late on Saturday night, while the Rebbe was walking up the steps to the second floor of his home with the doctor behind him, the Rebbe suddenly turned around and asked him if there were any news from Mrs. So-and-so of Chicago. 
 
Dr. Weiss was shocked that the Rebbe, at such a personally sad time, was thinking about this woman. The Rebbe was referring to a couple that had been trying to conceive, and Dr. Weiss was their family physician. He had been updating the Rebbe throughout the entire process. Now, as the Rebbe was sitting Shiva for the one person closest to him in the entire world, the Rebbe was interested in how that couple from Chicago was doing. 
 
The Rebbe explains in a Sichah that when it comes to leaders, there are leaders of specific groups who only care about those specific groups. For example, leaders of countries care specifically about the citizens of their countries. You have rabbis who care for their communities and for the members of their synagogues, etc. 
But a true Rebbe is something else entirely. 
 
The word “Rebbe” in Hebrew is an acronym for “Rosh Bnei Yisrael,” or “Head of the Jewish Nation.” As everyone knows, the head feels pain anywhere else in the body—meaning, that a person who only cares about certain category of people may very well be a good leader, but he is not a Rebbe. 
 
So, what is a true Rebbe? 
 
A Rebbe is a leader who worries about every Jew, no matter who he or she may be. Even if that Jew is sitting in prison for life, or if we’re talking about a Jewish couple in Chicago who are trying to bring children into the world, every Jew is as precious to a Rebbe as an only child
 
And it is out of that same caring that the entire institution of Chabads around the world arose—because the Rebbe cared for every Jew.
 
Today we mark the day that the Rebbe physically left us. It is therefore incumbent upon us to fulfill the Rebbe’s mission and take the opportunity to approach the Jew who comes before us and see what he or she might need, and then to help him or her—whether materially or even more so spiritually; if we can encourage him or her to do one more mitzvah. 
 
It often happens that people ask themselves, “How can I possibly know what the other guy really needs?” 
 
The story is told that there was a villager somewhere in Europe who was sitting at the local tavern, drinking with his buddy. Now, this was after they both had had a good few drinks, and neither one was particularly sober at the moment. 
And so, in a drunken stupor, the first villager asks his buddy, “Do you love me?” 
“Sure!” says the second drunk guy. “I love you a lot!” 
“How can you say that you love me?” the first guy answers back. “You don’t know what bothers me! If you really loved me, you’d know what bothers me.” 
 
And so, if we truly care about the Jew sitting before us, then we’ll know what’s causing him pain. And more importantly than that, we’ll help him. 
...

Jewlarious Jokes 7/1/22

Jewlarious Jokes:

To begin Shabbat with a laugh
 
Dr. Avram Veytikman calls his patient Mottl Bergstein.
‘Bergstein’, he says, ‘I have the results of your tests. I have bad news and very bad news.
‘OK’, says Bergstein, ‘tell me the bad news first’.
‘You have 24 hours to live’, says Dr. Veytikman.
‘And what could be worse than that?’ wails Bergstein.
‘I couldn’t reach you yesterday.’
 
***
 
Moishe was reading the local Jewish Daily when he noticed the list for those who won the lottery. He thought to himself that it would be nice if he would win the lottery. So, the next day, he decided to hang around after the morning minyan and stand before the Bema and pray to win the lottery. He did this for two hours every day for a week, then he checked the Jewish Daily to see if he had won. He did not. So, he decided that since he was a good Jew, there was no reason for him not to win the lottery except he was not praying long enough. For the next week, he doubled his extra prayer time after the minyan. Again, after a week, he bought the Jewish Daily and looked to see if his name was listed. Again, it was not! Well, obviously he was not praying enough. He decided to spend every day at the shul after the minyan in prayer to G-d to win the lottery. After a week, he bought the Jewish Daily and once again his name was not listed. Well, he thought, I must pray even more! He decided he would pray every day and every night until he won the lottery. He went to the shul and started to pray. Several days went by. Finally, as he stood before the Bema, he saw thunder and lightning raining down upon him. He realized he was in G-d’s presence and he anxiously awaited to hear G-d’s voice. After what seemed like an eternity to him, G-d spoke. “Moishe, I have heard your prayers. Would you do me a favor?” Moishe said, “Of course Lord, what can I do for you?” G-d responded, “Buy a lottery ticket!” 
 
***
 
For months, Leah had been nagging her husband to go with her to the seance parlor of Madame Sadie.
“Cyril, Madame Sadie is a real gypsy and she brings the voices of the dead from the other world. We all talk to them. Last week, I talked with my mother, may she rest in peace. Cyril, for only $30 you can talk to your zaida who you miss so much.”
Cyril could not resist and at the next seance, there was Cyril sitting under the coloured light at the green table, holding hands with the person on each side of him. All were humming.
Madame Sadie, her eyes lost in trance, was making passes over a crystal ball. “My medium Vashtri, who is that with you? Mr Himmelfarb? Cyril’s zaida?”
Cyril swallowed the lump in his throat and called, “Grandpa? zaida?”
“Ah, Cyril?” a thin voice quavered.
“Yes, yes,” cried Cyril, “this is your Cyril, zaida, are you happy in the other world?”
“Cyril, I am in bliss. I’m with your bubba. We laugh, we sing, we gaze upon the shining face of the Lord.”
Cyril asks his zaida many questions and his zaida answers each, until –
“So now, Cyril, I have to go. The angels are calling. Just one more question I can answer. Ask. Ask.”
“Zaida,” sighed Cyril, “when did you learn to speak English?”
...

Does Majority Rule? Torah Vs. Democracy

Does Majority Rule? Torah Vs. Democracy

A lesson from the Parsha

 

In every democratic country, the majority rules. In every parliamentary or congressional vote, the majority rules. In every court decision, the majority rules.
 
The concept of majority rules is found in Torah as well, as emphasized in the famous Talmudic story of “Achnai’s Oven.”
 
The story goes that there was a certain type of earthenware oven, and the Sages in Yavneh, a capital city of Jewish scholarship in the Talmudic Era, were having a dispute over whether this oven could become ritually impure.
 
Rabbi Eliezer the Great held that it was pure. But the Sages all opposed him, holding that it could become impure.
Rabbi Eliezer tried to convince the Sages that his was the correct view, but they did not accept his opinion. All the explanations he provided were not accepted—so Rabbi Eliezer tried to prove his correctness by performing miracles. He said to them, “If the law is according to me, a carob shall prove it!” And the carob tree literally moved from point A to point B.
 
But the Sages said to him, “You can’t bring a proof from a carob.”
He said to them, “If the law is according to me, a brook of water shall prove it!” And the brook of water right there reversed course and started miraculously flowing backwards. Said the Sages to him, “You can’t bring a proof from a water brook.”
 
Again, Rabbi Eliezer said to them, “If the law is according to me, from Heaven they shall prove it!” And a Heavenly Voice emerged and said, “What do you have against Rabbi Eliezer? The law always follows his opinion!” Rabbi Yehoshua rose to his feet and said, “The Torah is not in Heaven… for it was already written in the Torah at Mt. Sinai, ‘after the majority shall you lean’ —meaning, once the Torah has been given, Torah law follows the majority, not Heavenly Voice or miracles.
 
But Rabbi Eliezer did not want to submit his opinion to that of the majority and the Sages had him removed from the study hall. He went back to his home in the city of Lod, and there he remained alone until the end of his life.
 
Clearly, in Judaism, we follow the majority.
 
And that brings us to this week’s Torah portion of Shlach.
In this week’s Parshah, Moshe Rabbeinu sends 12 spies to go check out the Holy Land. Are the people who live there strong or weak? Are they few or many? Is the soil good? And so on.
 
After 40 days, the spies come back, and two of them, Yehoshua and Kaleiv, express their opinion by saying, “Let us go up and we shall inherit it!” The Jewish Nation can conquer the Land.
But the remaining ten spies said, “We cannot go up… because they are too strong for us.”
 
The question arises: If the rule is that you follow the majority, the Jewish Nation should have listened to the majority opinion saying that we can’t go up to this land. If so, they did the right thing at the time by listening to the majority of the spies. So why did G-d punish them?
 
This explanation can be found as far back as the Talmud.
The Talmud tells us about Chizkiyahu, King of Judah, during whose reign Sancheiriv, King of Ashur came along at the head of a mighty army and laid siege to Jerusalem to conquer the city.
 
The people of Jerusalem were divided between two opinions. King Chizkiyahu argued that it was forbidden to submit to the king of Ashur and that they needed to go to war against him, but Shevna, a top minister in his court, argued that they needed to submit to Sancheiriv. Not only that, but Shevna even sent a letter via an arrow to Sancheiriv in which he expressed his own submission and blamed any immediate war on his own king.
It would be one thing if it was just Shevna. The problem, however, was that Shevna had 130,000 supporters and King Chizkiyahu himself only had 110,000 supporters. As the Talmud has it, King Chizkiyahu worried that “Maybe G-d’s opinion is leaning towards the majority?” And if so, that would mean that he, too, would need to accept the ruling of the majority and compromise the political and spiritual independence of the Jewish Nation.
 
So G-d sent the Prophet Yeshayahu to King Chizkiyahu, who said to him that they were “a band of sinners, and a band of sinners doesn’t count.”
In other words, if it is something against G-d or against humanity, even if the majority argue for it, then it has no force — “a band of sinners doesn’t count”
 
Even in recent generations, there were people who used this argument. After the Holocaust, at the Nuremberg trials, some of the Nazis argued that since the Germans had elected Hitler in a free, fair and democratic election by a majority, everything that happened had been the will of the majority—and the Allies had no right to raise any moral objections.
 
And so, we come back to our Parshah.
The story of the Spies teaches us that G-d Himself doesn’t necessarily follow the majority. On the contrary—sometimes it is precisely the minority that correctly wishes to follow G-d’s Will.
 
And we Jews, have always been that minority throughout our history.
As Jews, we have always been the minority — “You are the least of all nations.” And yet, we have never been impressed or intimidated by the majority opinion around us.
 
When it comes to core matters of Judaism itself, we don’t calculate by majority and minority. The first Jew, our Patriarch Avraham, was called “Avraham Ha’ivri”. This means “Avraham, the Hebrew”. But in Hebrew you can play with the words to mean “Avraham, on the other side” because “the entire world was on one eiver [side] and he was on the other eiver,” and he “opened the channel” for every Jew throughout all generations.
 
Every person, in his own personal life, finds himself many times in the minority. But deep within your heart you know that the truth is with you, and that G-d is with you.
 
The lesson from this week’s Parsha is to not allow yourself to be intimidated or impressed by anything. And in the end, everyone respects a person who stands on his or her principles. He is the one who “wins the war.”
...

Jewlarious Jokes 6/24/22

Jewlarious Jokes:

To begin Shabbat with a laugh
 
The Edelstein family from New York was getting a guided tour through one of the ancient crusader forces in the land of Israel.
“This place,” their tour guide told them, “is almost one thousand years old. Not a stone in it has been touched, nothing altered, nothing replaced in all those years.”
“Wow,” said Zadie Edelstein, “they must have the same landlord I do.” 
 
***
 
A woman called the switchboard of a hospital and asked how Mrs. Levinson in room 102 was doing.
The switchboard operator put her on hold for a minute, then came back and reported: “Mrs. Levinson in room 102 is doing very well! Why just this morning her lab work came back and everything is normal.
Her doctor is pleased and says she will be able to go home next week.”
“Hurray!” shouted the caller.
“You must be a relative to be so happy,” observed the switchboard operator.
“No,” explained the caller, “I’m Mrs. Levinson in room 102. Nobody tells me anything!”
 
***
 
Morris and his wife Esther went to the state fair every year, and every year Morris would say, ‘Esther, I’d like to ride in that helicopter.’ Esther always replied, ‘I know Morris, but that helicopter ride is fifty dollars, and fifty dollars is fifty dollars.’
One year Esther and Morris went to the fair, and Morris said, ‘Esther, I’m 85 Years old. If I don’t ride that helicopter, I might never get another chance.’ To this, Esther replied, ‘Morris that helicopter ride is fifty dollars, and fifty dollars is fifty dollars.’
The pilot overheard the couple and said, ‘Folks I’ll make you a deal. I’ll take the both of you for a ride, and if you can stay quiet for the entire ride and not say a word, I won’t charge you. But if you say one word, it’s fifty dollars.’
Morris and Esther agreed and up they went. The pilot did all kinds of fancy maneuvers, but not a word was heard. He did his daredevil tricks over and over again, but still not a word.
When they landed, the pilot turned to Morris and said, ‘By golly, I did everything I could to get you to yell out, but you didn’t. I’m impressed!’
Morris replied, ‘Well, to tell you the truth, I almost said something when Esther fell out, but you know, fifty dollars is fifty dollars.’
...

Torah and Confidentiality

Torah and Confidentiality

A lesson from the Parsha

Anyone who visits a doctor knows that there’s something called confidentiality. This means that the doctor has a duty not to share his patient’s medical information with anyone else (except other doctors as necessary). This confidentiality is even part of the physician’s oath.
 
Many doctors today take the Hippocratic Oath. Many Jewish doctors, especially religious ones, prefer the Oath of Maimonides. However, there is a physician’s oath written by a Jew of ancient times called Assaf the Healer. Included in Assaf’s oath is one of the axioms a doctor is sworn to uphold: “Do not reveal the secret of the man who believes in you.”
 
We also expect the same ethics from attorneys, financial advisors, and so on.
 
In Judaism, we find the same thing. The Talmud tells us that a Jewish court is composed of three judges, and the ruling follows the majority opinion. This is unlike most American courts where one judge presides and makes decisions. In Judaism, cases are generally not given to a solitary judge to decide in the first place, because only G-d can be a solitary judge.
 
In many cases, the so-called “statute of limitations” expires after seven years. But in Judaism, if something is confidential it may never be revealed.
 
In this week’s Torah portion of Beha’aloscha, we find an even higher level. The Torah tells us that Aharon and Miriam spoke negatively about Moshe, and suddenly G-d mixed into the conversation.
 
First of all, God praised Moshe: “He is trustworthy throughout My House.” The Rebbe explains: What does “trustworthy,” mean? It means that he didn’t reveal confidential matters; he didn’t relay everything he knew. G-d could depend upon Moshe not to reveal secrets.
 
For example, a prophet knows who has sinned. But he is also charged with the prohibition of telling secrets, and if he tells secrets, then he breaches the trust that he was entrusted with.
A prophet may know how long a person is destined to live. But he does not approach the person and say, “You know, you have such-and-such an amount of time left to live.” Rather, he reveals no secrets whatsoever—unless G-d explicitly tells him to do so. That’s what “He is trustworthy throughout My House” means.
 
We find the same thing with our Patriarch Yitzchak. When the brothers sold Yosef into slavery and swore not to tell their father, the Torah tells us that Yaakov sat and mourned for his son for many days. The Torah then states, his father wept for him. 
 
Yitzchok (Yosef’s grandfather) cried for Yaakov’s pain, but he did not mourn [for Yosef] because he knew he was alive. Why did he not tell Yaakov? On a later verse, Rashi explains: “But Yitzchok, who knew he was alive, said: ‘How can I reveal it when G-d doesn’t want to reveal it to him?” We see from this that a prophet who knows something does not reveal it.
 
An even higher level of protecting information is where the prophet has information but knows he is barred from using it or even making decisions based on it.
 
There is a famous tale of a man who saw a child walking the street holding a covered pot. He asked the kid, “What’s in the pot?” The child answered. “If my mother wanted you to see what’s in the pot, she wouldn’t have put on the lid.” So too with G-d. If G-d conceals something from us, it’s a sign that it’s good for us.
 
The same thing applies to another thing people constantly ask: Why did G-d do that? 
Why did the Holocaust happen? Why is there pain? The true answer is, “Why are you meddling in G-d’s secrets?” If G-d has not revealed the secret to us, we don’t need to know and it’s better if we don’t know.
We find this concept in this week’s Torah portion. Moshe Rabbeinu complains to G-d, “I cannot bear this entire nation alone!” To which G-d replies, “Gather me 70 men from the elders of Israel and I shall emanate upon them from the spirit which is upon you, and they will bear the burden of the people with you.”
 
Moshe set out and gathered 70 men—and here the story gets interesting. The verses state: “Two men remained in the camp, Eldad and Meidad, and the spirit rested upon them and they prophesied in the camp. And the lad [Moshe’s son, Gershom] ran and told Moshe, ‘Eldad and Meidad are
prophesizing in the camp!’”
So, Joshua said, 
“My lord Moshe! Stop them!” 
But Moshe replied, “Are you jealous for me?! If only G-d would give the entire nation prophecy!”
 
When we read the story, we don’t understand what all the fuss was about: Why did Moshe’s son get angry? And why did Joshua want to stop them?
 
Rashi explains that they were prophesizing that Moshe would die and that Joshua would introduce the Jews to the Land of Israel. It was only one year after they had left Egypt, and everyone thought that Moshe would lead them to the Land of Israel any minute now—and now along came these two and broke the news. That’s why Gershom and Joshua were angry at them: They had betrayed the trust G-d puts in prophets not to reveal secrets.
Even in the Torah itself, we find the concept that part of the Torah itself is a secret.
 
Kabbalah is referred to as “the secret teaching.”
 
In truth, Moshe did not teach the Kabbalah in public. Neither did King David or Ezra the Scribe or even Rabbi Shimon Bar-Yochai, the author of the Zohar—even he didn’t publicize Kabbalah. This secrecy went to such an extent that the Zohar’s existence was not known to the public until about 900 years ago — meaning, its existence was kept a secret for 1,000 years, so much so that when it was revealed to the public, there was a debate that carried on for years on end whether the Zohar was actually written by Rabbi Shimon or by someone else.
 
If so, how then is it that today, even celebrities study Kabbalah?
 
The Masters of Kabbalah saw that the Jewish people were becoming more and more assimilated and felt we were entering the category of Pikuach Nefesh – a threat to the existence of the Jewish people. Therefore the Arizal (Rabbi Yitzchak Luria, 1534-1572, the father of Kabbalah as we know it) taught that “it is a mitzvah to reveal this wisdom.”
 
Usually, we’re not allowed to reveal secrets – but when it comes to the Kabbalah – secrets of the Torah, not only are you allowed, but as the Arizal says, it’s a Mitzvah!
...

Jewlarious Jokes 6/17/22

Jewlarious Jokes:

To begin Shabbat with a laugh
 
A Jewish grandmother is giving directions to her grown grandson who is visiting her, with his wife for the first time.
“You come to the front door of the apartment.
I am in apartment 301. There is a big panel at the front door. With your elbow, push button 301. I will buzz you in.
Come inside, the elevator is on the right. Get in, and with your elbow, push 3. When you get out, I’m on the left.
With your elbow, hit my doorbell.”
“Bubbe, that sounds easy, but, why am I hitting all these buttons with my elbow?”
“What . . . .. … You coming empty-handed?”
 
***
 
A big-time real estate developer from America is visiting Israel. As his Israeli host is taking him around, the Israeli points to a new 20-story apartment complex. “That building took our people less than two years to complete!”
“Ha!” the American sneers. “In the USA, a complex like that would go up in 6 months!”
Later in the afternoon, they come to a brand new power plant. Hoping not to be outdone by his guest this time, the Israeli says, “This new power station took us less than three months to construct!”
The American laughs again. “Buddy, a facility like that back home would take us a week – two weeks tops – to put up!”
At nightfall, they pass a beautiful new tower in the Diamond Center, ablaze with lights – one of the most modern and impressive buildings in all of Israel. “What’s that building there across the street?” asks the American.
The Israeli casually shrugs his shoulders. “I don’t know… All I can say is that it wasn’t there this morning.” 
 
***
 
A man walks into a Jewish deli and orders a bowl of matzo ball soup. The waiter comes right back with a large bowl of soup, places it in front of the man, and walks away.
The man catches the waiter’s eye and calls: “Waiter, come here.”
The waiter rushes right up to the man’s elbow and the man tells him: “Waiter, taste the soup.”
The waiter quickly says: “It’s not hot enough? Here, let me take it back and I’ll bring you a hotter soup.”
The man insistently says: “Waiter, taste the soup.”
And the waiter says: “Is it too salty? I’ll take it right back to the kitchen and get you a better bowl of soup.”
Again, the man says, with a little edge in his voice: “Waiter, TASTE the SOUP.”
This time, the waiter, gives in and says: “All right. O.K., I’ll taste the soup, let’s see… .” and he steps closer to lean over the table.
As the waiter reaches for the silverware, he says: “Hey, you don’t have a spoon.”
At which point, the man looks up at the waiter, and with a gleam in his eye, he wiggles his index finger upwards and says: “AHA… !”
...

When Mount Sinai Arrived in Tehran

When Mount Sinai Arrived in Tehran

A lesson from the Parsha

 
Every once in a while, Iran returns to the news cycle, whether because of the Iran deal or because of attacks that Israel carries out inside their nuclear facilities. Today, I would like share with you a different story about Iran, this one about the Jews of Iran. 
In 1957, the classic movie The Ten Commandments came to Teheran, Iran’s capital city. When Iranian Jews heard that there was a movie telling the story of “Moshe ben Amram,” the entire community excitedly looked forward to watching the film’s entire four hours. 
Many families bought tickets not just for themselves but for their senior parents and even for old and ailing people. They were sure that the blessings of G-d and Moshe Rabbeinu would protect the sick and perhaps even heal them. 
Now, the theater where the film was showing could hold a maximum of 1,500 movie-goers. Also, in those days, most of Teheran’s Jewish adults had never been in a movie theater and had never watching a movie or TV screen in their lives. For them, going to a movie was sort of a pilgrimage. 
When they got to the theater, all the Jews stood around excited and happy. People hugged and exchanged greetings. People shouted blessings at each other from afar, and the noise was overwhelming. Most people dragged along huge baskets of food, as if they were going to a picnic. 
 
The theater started going dark and it finally got quiet. The menfolk took out their yarmulkes and put them on their heads. They were expecting a religious experience. And then the curtain rose… and that was the only silent moment throughout the entire film. 
 
Every time Moses appeared on the screen, the crowd shrieked, whistled, and asked Moses for blessings. Some cried out, “Moshe ben Amram, we are your atonement!” Others cried out in the traditional Sephardi saying, “If only I could be dust beneath the soles of your feet!” And every time the Pharaoh appeared on the screen, the crowd roared with boos while others shouted, “Yimach shmo v’zichro!” (“May his name and memory be obliterated,” the traditional “honorific” applied to anti-Semites.) 
Every new scene in the movie brought with it strong emotional reactions. Nobody could sit in their chairs for too long. Men leapt from their seats and waved fists in the air every time they got angry, and whenever they loved what they were seeing on the screen, they flashed victory signs with their hands. 
Finally, the movie’s intermission arrived, and the crowd was able to catch its breath and relax from the emotional experience it had just undergone. Women took out pots with food still hot from their baskets, along with thermoses filled with tea. It was in the middle of the day, and you don’t skip lunch. The intermission was one hour long, and everyone took a break to eat and drink. 
The second half of the film was even more intense for its viewers—because in that half of the film, Moshe went up Mt. Sinai to receive the Torah. 
 
When they heard the “Voice of G-d” speaking to Moshe, several people fainted. They were sure that they were literally hearing G-d speak. Many stood up, covered their eyes (as if saying “Shema Yisrael”) and started singing various prayers. And the women were more excited than the men. 
 
When Moshe came down from Mt. Sinai and saw the Golden Calf, the crowd was shocked. The men tore their clothing. The women pulled hair from their heads and cried out, “dust upon our heads!” The sobbing and wailing was terrible. 
But all’s well that ends well—the film ended on a positive note with Moshe going back up Mt. Sinai to get the second Tablets, and the crowd was filled with joy. The women ululated (that’s the “loo-loo-loo” sound that is customary in Middle Eastern Jewish communities), families and friends hugged and kissed, and men danced in the aisles and clapped for joy because Moshe had taken pity on them. The movie theater could have easily been a synagogue on Shabbos after the morning prayers. 
People left the theater exhausted but satisfied. They had now experienced “the Event at Mt. Sinai.” 
 
And that brings us to this week’s Torah portion. 
This week we read the longest parshah in the entire Torah—176 verses. Among the many lengthy subjects of this Torah portion, we find something small but important tucked away: “Birkas Kohanim,” the Priestly Blessing. G-d tells Moshe, “Speak to Aharon… thus shall you bless the Children of Israel… May G-d bless you…” (Bamidbar 6:22). And just recently, we all experienced that very blessing on Shavuos, when our Kohanim here stood in front of us and blessed us with this special blessing. 
The Rebbe explains that in this blessing we find an amazing characteristic. 
 
As a general rule, G-d’s blessings come in the form of reward for keeping the mitzvos. As the Torah elsewhere says, “If you walk in My statutes… I shall provide your rains in their times.”  
And as we find with several mitzvos, the Torah specifies the reward for the keeping of that mitzvah. For example, with the mitzvah of honoring one’s parents, the Torah says, “Lmaan ya’arichun yamechah,” so that your days be lengthened. In plain English: Honor your parents, live a long life.  
We also read in the Shma prayer, that if you follow G-d’s words, “I shall provide the dew of your land in their times”—that’s the condition. With the mitzvah of tzedakah, the Torah tells us that if a Jew gives a tenth to charity, he can expect G-d to return him “eser p’amim kachah,” ten times as much. 
 
With Birkas Kohanim, however, we find no such conditions at all. Instead, every Jew, whoever he or she may be or however one behaves, gets all the most special blessings included in Birkas Kohanim: “Yevarechicha,” that your property be blessed, “V’yishmirecha,” that no robbers come upon you”
 
But there’s another special element about Birkas Kohanim: We always pray for the rebuilding of the Beis Hamikdash and study the order of services in the Beis Hamikdash and what the Kohanim did and how the sacrifices were brought. We imagine for ourselves the choirs of the Levi’im standing on the Beis Hamikdash steps with all their musical instruments. 
But all that remains in the imagination. In reality, nothing of this is left for us. 
 
However, there is one authentic remnant of the Beis Hamikdash experience: Birkas Kohanim. This is the one Beis Hamikdash service that remains to this day, and has remained in every place and in every generation; it’s not tied to the Beis Hamikdash and not even to the Holy Land. And to this very day, it’s the one mitzvah in the Torah that exists exactly as it did when the Beis Hamikdash was standing.
If we want to experience today what Jews experienced in the Beis Hamikdash thousands of years ago, it only can be experienced through Birkas Kohanim. 
 
In Teheran in 1957, the Jews were sure they were experiencing the Giving of the Torah at Mt. Sinai, but it was only a movie. But here with us, when our Kohanim go up to the front of the room and lovingly bless us all, we truly experience the same experience of the Beis Hamikdash. 
Let us pray for the rebuilding of the Beis Hamikdash so that we can experience the rest of being in the Beis Hamikdash, with the coming of Moshiach, speedily in our days, amen!
...

Jewlarious Jokes 6/9/22

Jewlarious Jokes:

To begin Shabbat with a laugh
 
Doctor Bloom, who was known for miraculous cures for arthritis, had a waiting room full of people when a little old lady, completely bent over in half, shuffled in slowly, leaning on her cane. When her turn came, she went into the doctor’s office and emerged within half an hour walking completely erect, with her head held high.
A woman in the waiting room who had seen all this walked up to the little old lady and said, “It’s a miracle! You walked in bent in half and now you’re walking erect. What did that doctor do?”
She answered, “Miracle, shmiracle. . . he gave me a longer cane.” 
 
***
 
Herman goes out to do some chores. His wife Mindy is watching TV and sees a story about someone on I-95 going in the wrong direction. She calls Herman and says,” Herman, be very careful. I saw on the news that someone on I-95 is going in the wrong direction.”
Herman says, “Someone? Everyone is.” 
 
***
 
Sitting on the side of the highway waiting to catch speeding drivers, a State Police Officer sees a car puttering along at 22 MPH. He thinks to himself, “This driver is just as dangerous as a speeder!” So he turns on his lights and pulls the driver over.
Approaching the car, he notices that there are five elderly Jewish ladies, eyes wide and white as ghosts. Sylvia, obviously confused, says to him, “Officer, I don’t understand, I was doing exactly the speed limit! What seems to be the problem?”
“Ma’am,” the officer replies, “you weren’t speeding, but you should know that driving slower than the speed limit can also be a danger to other drivers.”
“Slower than the speed limit?” she asked. “No sir, I was doing the speed limit exactly… 22 MPH!” Sylvia says proudly.
The State Police officer, trying to contain a chuckle explains to her that “22” was the route number, not the speed limit. A bit embarrassed, she grinned and thanked the officer for pointing out her error.
The officer said, “But before I let you go, ma’am, I have to ask. Is everyone in this car OK? These women seem awfully shaken, and they haven’t muttered a single peep this whole time,” the officer says.
Sylvia replied, “Oh, they’ll be all right in a minute officer. We just got off Route 119.”