Editor's Note:
Dear Friend,
I love Passover.
I love the fresh, healthy and natural food that we eat (our family is particular to prepare just about everything ourselves, to make sure it’s 100% chametz-free). I love the songs that we sing every year at the Seder (okay, we try to sing them, but genetics prevent us from fully realizing that wish). And I love the fact that we often get to divide our time between my parents and in-laws, where so much is the same, but so much is different.
Every Jewish family uses the same boilerplate, but every Seder is so different. We all just read the same Haggadah, crunched the same matzah and drank the same wine, but the conversations in every home were unique.
And this is what Passover is all about. Taking a national experience and making it personal. It’s not just about our nation leaving Egypt, but it’s about me leaving my personal Egypt and embarking on my journey to my personal Holy Land and attaining freedom from whatever may be holding me back.
Enjoy the rest of your journey!
Menachem Posner,
on behalf of the Chabad.org Editorial Team
P.S. What customs and practices make your family’s Seder special? Please share a comment and let us know.
Higher & Higher
The Rebbe’s most common response to someone who had done something positive:
It is our nature, all of us, that we never attain half our goal. If we earn $100, we want to make $200. And when we reach $200, we strive for $400.
If so, our acts of kindness must grow by the same rules.
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| Your Questions Why Do We Hide the Afikoman? By Yehuda Shurpin  First, let’s start with some background. At the Seder, before we begin to tell the story of the Exodus, we take the middle of the three matzahs that are stacked under the Seder plate and split it into two parts. We return the smaller half to its place between the other two matzahs, and we place the larger half in a bag, or wrap it in a cloth, and then set it aside. The matzah that is set aside is called the afikoman, and it is eaten for “dessert” after the Seder meal in commemoration of the paschal sacrifice.(The word afikoman is from the Greek epikomen or epikomion, meaning “that which comes after.” Others say that it comes from the Aramaic afiku min, which means “bring out various delicacies with which to end the meal.”) Now to the question of why we hide the afikoman: The simple reason that we put the afikoman aside or hide it, is because we will eat this matzah only near the very end of the Seder, and we don’t want it to get mixed up with the other matzahs at the table.1 In addition, when putting aside the afikoman matzah, the custom is to wrap it in some sort of cloth or napkin as a remembrance of the way the Jews left Egypt with their soon-to-be matzahs,2 as described in the Torah: The people picked up their dough when it was not yet leavened, their leftovers bound in their garments on their shoulders.3 Some have the custom to hide the piece of matzah that was set aside for the afikoman, and have the children find it and then return it only in lieu of a promised gift. This custom is based on a statement in the Talmud: “We snatch matzahs on the night of Passover in order that the children should not fall asleep.”4 In other words, the game of hiding the afikoman and the accompanying bargaining for a gift is an activity to engage the kids and make sure that they don’t fall asleep during what is invariably a long evening. Others do not have the custom for the children to take or “steal” the afikoman, for fear that the activity would give them a taste of stealing.5 On a deeper level: The afikoman represents our liberation from Egyptian exile. That redemption, however, was not a complete one, as we are still awaiting the final redemption with the coming of Moshiach. Setting aside or hiding the larger half of the matzah reminds us that the best, the real redemption, is yet to come, still hidden in the future.6 For additional afikoman customs, see Afikoman Customs. Rabbi Yehuda Shurpin responds to questions for Chabad.org's Ask the Rabbi service. FOOTNOTES 1. Siddur Yaavetz, quoted by the Lubavitcher Rebbe in his Haggadah, s.v. Yachatz. 2. See Tur, Orach Chaim 473. 3. Exodus 12:34. 4. Talmud, Pesachim 109a. 5. See Talmud, Berachot 5b, and the Lubavitcher Rebbe’s Haggadah, s.v. Yachatz. 6. Haggadah of the Sefat Emet: http://chabadlibrarybooks.com/pdfpager.aspx?req=10539&st=&pgnum=10. © Copyright 2015, all rights reserved. Your Questions Why Do We Still Celebrate Holidays for Two Days in the Diaspora? Is the Yom Tov Sheini an anachronism? By Nechama Golding and Yehuda Shurpin  Question: I understand that in ancient times the rabbis decreed that Jews in the Diaspora should celebrate holidays for two days, because of some confusion about the correct day to celebrate. Nowadays, however, we have a fixed calendar, so why do we still celebrate two days in the Diaspora? Answer: Good question. Indeed, we could ask why the custom of celebrating two days didn’t stop almost 2,000 years ago, when the Jews started using a fixed calendar as opposed to determining the months based on observations of the new moon. In Ancient Times Before getting to the crux of the question, Let's first start with a brief overview of how Jewish holiday dates work: Whereas Shabbat happens every seven days without any input from us, G‑d commanded the children of Israel to fix the dates of the months and years.1This means that the power to determine when the holidays fall was given to Moses and his successors—the rabbinical courts. Originally, there was no fixed calendar. Each month, the Sanhedrin (supreme court) in Jerusalem would determine whether the previous month had been 29 or 30 days long, depending on when the new moon of the following month was first sighted. There was no way to determine the exact day of a coming festival (Yom Tov) in advance, because every festival falls on a particular day in a month, and the month would begin only when the new moon of that month was sighted. (The way that the Sanhedrin determined the new month is fascinating in itself. Click here to find out more about it.) Once the Sanhedrin had determined that a new month had begun, the information was broadcast from Jerusalem to distant Jewish outposts via huge bonfires which were lit on designated mountaintops. Lookouts stationed on other mountaintops would see the fires, and would then light their own fires, creating a chain of communication that led all the way to Babylon, and to even more distant communities. If there was a Yom Tov that month, communities across Israel and in the Diaspora would then know when to celebrate it. But a problem arose. The Samaritans, a sect who denied rabbinic authority and were constantly at odds with the Jews, started lighting fires on the wrong days in order to manipulate the calendar. To prevent confusion, the fire-on-mountaintop method of communication was discontinued, and instead messengers were dispatched to Babylon and other farflung Jewish settlements. Since news traveled a lot slower that way, distant communities would not know when Rosh Chodesh (the “Head of the Month”) had been declared in time to celebrate the festival on the proper day. It was therefore decreed that outside of the Land of Israel people would celebrate every Yom Tov for two days: the day of the month the holiday would be if the previous month had been a 29-day month, and the day of the month it would be if the previous month had been a 30-day month. The Custom of Your Forefathers The fixed calendar began being used in the 4th century CE, and so everyone knew in advance when Rosh Chodesh and the festivals would occur. However, the Talmud explains that although the doubt about the calendar is no longer relevant, we are still bound according to rabbinic law to observe a second day, in case a doubtful situation were to arise again. In the words of the Talmud, “The sages sent [word] to the exiles, ‘Be careful to keep the customs of your forefathers, and keep two days of the festival, for someday the government may promulgate a decree, and you will come to err.’”2 However, the question remains. A simple reading of the Talmudic text cited above seems to indicate that the reason to still keep two days is merely as a precaution in case we are not able to learn the Torah and the proper way to calculate the new month. However, nowadays, with the advent of modern technology and computers, we have calendars stretching for hundreds of years into the future, so this would hardly seem to be a concern. An Enactment of the Prophets Rabbi Hai Gaon was the undisputed authority on Jewish law in the early 11th century. He writes that the requirement that one should keep a second day of Yom Tov outside of Israel really stems from the days of the prophets, and perhaps even from the days of Yehoshua (Joshua) ben Nun. Based on this, he explains the somewhat curious wording of the Talmud cited earlier: “Be careful to keep the customs of your forefathers and keep two days of Yom Tov.” Why not state simply that we should keep two days lest there develop some doubt as to the correct day? However, there is a general rule that once a rabbinical enactment has been made by the Sanhedrin and accepted by the entire Jewish people, the enactment can be absolved only by a court that is similar or greater in number and stature to the one that made the enactment. While one would be hard-pressed to find a court that could compare to even a regular Sanhedrin, it would be impossible to find a court with the same stature as the prophets, who were divinely inspired. Thus the Talmud warns that we should “be careful to keep the customs of your forefathers,” as the custom of keeping two days of Yom Tov in the Diaspora isn’t just about satisfying a doubt, but about adhering to an enactment instituted by the prophets. Rabbi Hai Gaon concludes that like many of the enactments of the prophets, we often do not know the real reason or “secret” behind their enactment.3 The Holiness of the Land of Israel According to the teachings of the inner wisdom of Torah, there is a deeper reason—perhaps even the “secret” of the prophets to which Rabbi Hai Gaon alludes—for keeping two days of Yom Tov in the Diaspora. The Tzemach Tzedek, the third Lubavitcher rebbe, expounding on what Kabbalists such as Rabbi Moshe Cordovero and others write, explains that since holiness is more revealed in the Land of Israel, the festivals can be revealed and received there in one day, as the Torah commands. However, those in the Diaspora are farther away from the revelation of holiness, and therefore, in order to absorb the spiritual emanations of the festivals, two days are required, as the rabbis ordained. The Tzemach Tzedek explains this phenomenon using the metaphor of a bright torch: When held close to an object, the light is strong and concentrated on a small area; but when the torch illuminates an object from a distance, its light is weakened and dispersed over a large area. Thus, the light of the festivals is revealed in the Land of Israel in one concentrated and focused day, while in the Diaspora the light of the festivals is weaker and spread out over two days.4 Perhaps it is for this reason5 that the Lubavitcher Rebbe,6 as well as others,7 contends that even in the days of Moshiach, when the Holy Temple is rebuilt and the Sanhedrin is reestablished, those outside of Israel proper will continue to celebrate Yom Tov for two days. After all, although the whole world will be elevated, the Land of Israel will be elevated with an even greater degree of revelation. May this be speedily in our days! Please note: Regarding the law for travelers to or from Israel, although some authorities say that you should keep Yom Tov for one day if you are in Israel and two days if you are elsewhere, most authorities rule that wherever you are, you keep Yom Tov for the number of days it is kept in the country of your permanent residence. One should consult with one’s own rabbi before traveling. All names of persons and locations or other identifying features referenced in these questions have been omitted or changed to preserve the anonymity of the questioners. FOOTNOTES 1. Exodus 12:1. 2. Talmud, Beitzah 4b. 3. Otzar HaGeonim, Masechet Yom Tov (Beitzah) 4b. 4. Derech Mitzvotecha 198a. 5. See Yemot Hamoshiach Bahalachah 1:46. 6. Torat Menachem 5749, vol. 1, p. 227 (talk during the day of Simchat Torah). 7. See for example Derashot Chatam Sofer, vol. 2, p. 272b. © Copyright 2015, all rights reserved. |
The Kabbalah of Sefirat HaOmer
We count 49 days from Passover to Shavuot, the day of the giving of the Torah. In the siddur (prayer book), it associates each day of counting to a different “sefirah” (kabbalistic attribute). How is all of this relevant to us now?
By Ruvi New
Watch (51:49)<script language="javascript" type="text/javascript" src="http://embed.chabad.org/multimedia/mediaplayer/embedded/embed.js.asp?aid=2196385&width=auto&height=auto"></script><span style="clear:both;" class="lb" id="lbdiv">Visit <a href="http://www.chabad.org/multimedia/default_cdo/aid/591213/jewish/Video.htm">Jewish.TV</a> for more <a href="http://www.chabad.org/multimedia/default_cdo/aid/591213/jewish/Video.htm">Jewish videos</a>.</span>
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• An Eternal Covenant
http://www.chabad.org/therebbe/livingtorah/player_cdo/aid/2889280/jewish/An-Eternal-Covenant.htmWomen
And They Lived Happily Ever After
By Karen Rapaport
• An Eternal Covenant
http://www.chabad.org/therebbe/livingtorah/player_cdo/aid/2889280/jewish/An-Eternal-Covenant.htmWomen
And They Lived Happily Ever After
By Karen Rapaport
The crossing of the Red Sea was the ultimate “high” for the Jewish nation. So epic was the revelation of G‑d at the splitting of the sea that each Jew could point to the Almighty with his or her finger and state, “This is my G‑d.” The sages say that even the common folk, the maidservants, witnessed a mystical vision greater than anything witnessed by the prophet Ezekiel.This revelation is incomparable to anything we know
This revelation is incomparable to anything we know, but perhaps we can sense a tiny glimmer of such a reality during a “peak experience.” Psychologist Abraham Maslow described peak experiences as moments during which we feel the maximum levels of happiness, harmony and possibility. These experiences can range from the deepening of everyday pleasure to “supernatural” occurrences of enhanced consciousness. Climbing Mount Everest, giving birth, producing a great creative work, one’s wedding day—all of these have been described as peak experiences in one’s life.
These momentous events would all pale in comparison to the splitting of the Red Sea, the ultimate peak experience. And yet the commentators tell us that the maidservants, after experiencing this open miracle, remained maidservants. What do they mean, and why is it important for us to understand this point?
The sages point out that following their peak experience, their “high,” the maidservants reverted back to their prior selves. Instead of taking advantage of the awe-inspiring revelations during the splitting of the sea, the maidservants squandered an opportunity for accelerated growth, insight and union with their Source. The prophet Ezekiel, on the other hand, may have bore witness to a more understated degree of divine revelation, but he utilized his spiritual opportunity to create a higher connection to G‑d.
Interestingly enough, the Talmud says that “to match couples together is as difficult as the splitting of the sea.”1
Why the comparison?
First off, according to Rabbi Adin Steinsaltz, whenever our sages refer to paradox, the unification of opposites, they refer to it as being as difficult as the parting of the Red Sea. Just as we were paradoxically able to walk on “a dry sea,” in marriage we are paradoxically asked to live with someone who seems to be from another planet!2
Perhaps another reason for the comparison between the splitting of the sea and marriage is that they both have miraculous origins. The wedding is the beginning of this divine miracle. In front of G‑d, and those you love, you enter a holy union with anticipation and hope. Starting a new life together, your world is your tabula rasa, your blank slate. Your heightened senses bring the awe and love you feel for one another into undeniable view. You want to give. You want to be the best possible partner. You are at the apex of a peak experience; you are in the middle of a genuine high. This is a moment that can be a catalyst for great personal and spiritual growth. It is not only about you anymore. You have another. There is potential for great transformation here.
Remember the maidservants? After their great awakening, they returned to their earlier ways.
When the wedding is over, and the intense bliss is on its way down, will you remember the compassion, kindness and commitment that you felt during your great awakening? When you settle down, and life becomes more routine, and the responsibilities begin to pile up, will you remember to be as receptive, forgiving and unselfish as you were on your special day? And as the years go by, and the inevitable challenges emerge, will you still cultivate the closeness you felt with your spouse during your peak experience?
How fortunate are we that, at some point in our lives, we may be given the gift of an elevated awareness, a peak experience. During those times, it is important to take positive action to ensure that what we gleaned during those moments will not remain just a vague feeling.Will you still cultivate the closeness? We have to step up during the “highs” and internalize their messages. When we are moved by a piece of music, when we arrive at a meditative bliss, when our babies are born, when it is our turn under the chupah, let us not remain the maidservants that we were before. Let us transform.
Karen Wolfers Rapaport is a psychotherapist and workshop leader specializing in Narrative Therapy. A proud mother, she is blessed to live in Israel. She is inspired by people’s stories. She is equally inspired by how they gain strength through them.
FOOTNOTES
1. Sotah 2a.
2. Steinsaltz, Adin. Change and Renewal: The Essence of the Jewish Holidays, Festivals and Days of Remembrance. Maggid, 2011.
© Copyright 2015, all rights reserved.
Women
They Said Her Child Would be Born with Down Syndrome By Elana Mizrahi
I had never done this before—walk into a labor room to help deliver a baby without having met the mother or at least talked to her on the phone first.
The air in the room was heavy, and my newest client looked miserable and lost. I looked into her eyes, gave her a huge smile and introduced myself. Then we breathed through a contraction together, my eyes never leaving hers, my hand firmly on her shoulder.She looked miserable and lost
Could it really have been only an hour earlier that I was thinking how calm and quiet the morning was? I had accidentally left my phone at home when I went to the market to pick up some vegetables. When I returned, I saw four missed calls from an unknown number. I dialed the number and a nervous man answered.
“My wife is in labor, and we are on our way to the hospital. It’s a first birth. We don’t know what we are doing. Can you come?”
I was caught off guard, but told the man that I would try to come. I made phone calls arranging for my kids to be taken care of after school, grabbed my labor coach bag and made my way to the hospital at full speed.
I didn’t know this woman, but it was obvious that she needed me, that G‑d had arranged things so that I could be with her. The fact that I didn’t know her or her story really didn’t matter at this point. I rolled up my sleeves and focused my full attention on the woman in front of me. My goal was to help this laboring mother and her child in the journey of birth.
After about 15 minutes, this 25-year-old first-time mother turned to me and said, “They told me that the baby could be born with Down’s syndrome. I’m afraid.”
Deep breath, focus on the goal. I looked into her eyes again, touched her shoulder and told her, “Now we are in the birth. Let’s stay focused on the labor. We are going to take one step at a time.”
One step at a time. One contraction at a time. One goal at a time. G‑d give me strength to focus and get through this one moment.
For the next five hours she labored beautifully, and at last her child was born. Was the baby born with Down’s syndrome? Was the baby healthy? One moment at a time. One test at a time. One breath at a time. And with one goal: to see the blessing in every moment.
Why is it so hard to stay focused on our goals?Seder night arrives. The table is set
For some people, the beginning of the month of Nissan means the beginning of Passover cleaning. The tasks are enormous, and the amount of cleaning, shopping and cooking can be overwhelming.
We have to approach Passover preparations one goal time at a time. One drawer at a time. If I start here, but get distracted there, I’ll never make it.
And then the Seder night arrives. The table is set. Everything is ready. Everything is clean and shining. But do we remember the goal of all this preparation?
A Jew is commanded to remember the Exodus from Egypt every single day of his or her life. The Exodus is the foundation of our becoming a nation, the foundation of our faith, and it is an event that is connected to dozens and dozens of other commandments. It is an event that is so significant in our lives because it is a story of pure and simple faith.
After fleeing Egypt and Pharaoh our former masters caught up with us and cried out, “We want our slaves back!” Behind us was the Egyptian army. In front of us stood the sea. Everyone was in a panic as they looked behind them and in front of them. What now? Distraction.
The children of Israel and Moses cried out, and G‑d asked Moses, “Why do you cry out? Tell them to move forward!” G‑d then told Moshe to stretch forth his staff, and the sea split.
Have faith, G‑d was saying. Keep traveling. This was not the time to think about about what would be. This was not the time to think about what had already been. This was the time to move forward with faith that G‑d would take care of them. And it was when they reached the other side and saw their enemies destroyed behind them that they could sing. They needed to first get through the test, to have faith in G‑d and to take action based on that faith, and then they could praise and sing.
We have made it through the cleaning. We have made it through the Seder night. And now, the holiday is coming to an end. Are we already distracted? Have we lost sight of our Seder night faith? Are we already thinking about the task of putting away the Passover dishes or the pile of laundry?Stay focused! Enjoy!
Stay focused! Enjoy the last days of Passover, and breathe the holy air that encompasses you on these days. Stay connected to pure and simple faith. There might be tragedy in front of you and behind you, but stay in the moment. Plunge into the sea and go forward with faith, and He will bring you to the other side.
Originally from northern California and a Stanford University graduate, Elana Mizrahi now lives in Jerusalem with her husband and children. She is a doula, massage therapist, writer, and author of Dancing Through Life, a book for Jewish women. She also teaches Jewish marriage classes for brides.
© Copyright 2015, all rights reserved.
Story
Surviving Passover in the Siberian Gulag By Nissan Mindel
Foleh Kahan was serving a three-year sentence for the crime of "harmful acts against the State." This, however, was a libel. The truth was that he was a religious Jew who had committed the "crime" of keeping his Judaism in every possible way he could, and encouraging other Jews to practice it.
When this was discovered, he was sent to a "Correctional Labor Camp" in Siberia, to be reeducated in the company of political offenders. He later wrote an account of his experiences.
It was Passover in the year 1943, the third of his sentence. This is how he began his moving narrative:
"A few weeks before Passover, I received a letter from my home, telling me they were sending a package with matzos and other Passover products as in previous years. This letter had first been addressed to the previous camp where I had been working, and then it was forwarded to my new camp. I wrote home at once to inform them of my new address, and hoped that the package would reach me in time.
I gave my letter to David, a friend of mine, who was the manager of the Food Department in the camp. He, in turn, passed it on to someone outside the camp who was going to Moscow.
I eagerly awaited this package of matzos and Passover products which would enable me to observe Passover properly, as well as strengthen me, for I had become rather weak and suffered from stomach trouble.
One day, the woman who was the head of the "political division" of the labor camp came to see me. She was also the censor of letters and packages addressed to the prisoners.
She was new to the job and came to ask me if I was still keeping to my religious beliefs and practices. Was I still abstaining from working on Sabbaths and holidays and not eating the meals served from the Camp kitchen? Incidentally, she also asked me: "What is matza?"
I explained it all to her, then she asked: "When is Passover?" I replied: "In ten days' time."
"What will you do if your expected package of matzos does not come in time?" she asked.
"I would just eat potatoes," I answered.
"And if you don't get potatoes?"
"Then I would have no choice but to go hungry."
"For eight days?" she asked, wonderingly.
"The Almighty will not forsake me," I replied.
The conversation ended there, and she left.
The first Seder night arrived. No package. No matzos. No Passover provisions. I had invited David and a Jew named Berkovitch to my "seder." We had covered the table with a clean sheet of paper to serve as a tablecloth. We had boiled a kettle of water. I poured out glasses of tea, which were to serve us in place of the four cups of wine we should have had.
Then, to their unbelieving eyes, I produced three whole matzos! Thus, we observed the first seder. I recited as much of the haggadah as I could remember.
The following night there were no matzos. We again had tea in place of wine, and three pieces of sugar completed our seder. I again recited the haggadah from memory. I then told my guests the secret of how I had the matzos for the previous seder.
"Since I'm in the labor camps I always saved a few matzos from one Passover to the next, in case I'd have difficulty getting matzos for the following Passover. This year, luckily, these matzos were a blessing, and I was thankful that I'd had such forethought."
David was very angry with me for not telling them that this year I had not received any matzos for Passover.
"We would certainly not have eaten your last piece of matza last night had we known," he declared.
"That is the very reason I did not tell you," I answered. "It's a mitzvah for every Jew to eat a piece of matzo on the seder nights. During the rest of Passover we must only refrain from eating chametz(leaven). One can manage with eating potatoes, fruits, vegetables, etc." I said.
"You can forget about fruits, and it's not so easy to obtain potatoes either," retorted David. "How do you expect to survive a whole Passover?" he demanded, heatedly.
"I was given a blessing by my father that I will return home in peace, and, with G-d's help, I will manage," I replied calmly.
David was not mollified, and left in a sulk. I saw him only a couple of times during the whole of Passover. He then tried to persuade me to eat chametz or, at least, have something from the camp kitchen if I did not wish to die of hunger!
When he failed to convince me, he avoided me; he could not bear to see me suffering hunger, it seemed.
On the third day of Passover I had an unexpected visitor: the woman censor.
I was at work and she noticed that my hands were trembling. She realized that I was weak from lack of food.
"I have brought you something to eat," she said, and brought out a freshly baked roll. The appetizing aroma made my head spin! I told her that we Jews are not allowed to eat that on Passover. I thanked her and refused it. She left without saying anything more.
The next day she visited me again, and I was really feeling much weaker. This time she brought me some cookies made from white flour (a luxury).
"I baked these myself," she said, "with sugar and oil. You must eat them, otherwise you will die of hunger! " I thanked her, but again refused.
"You are probably wondering why I am so concerned about you," she said. "You probably have a wife and children who are waiting for the time when you will be free to return to them. I sympathize with them. I have no husband waiting for me. He was an officer in this camp and was sent to the battlefront. He fell in action, fighting against the Hitlerites. Now, do please take a cookie! It will do you good," she pleaded.
"Thank you, no. I am sorry to hear about your loss, but please leave me alone."
She went out, obviously annoyed at her failure to persuade me to eat anything she had brought me. I felt so weak, I had to lie down on my bed, and I had no more strength to get up.
Berkovitch came to see me a few times and brought me some warm, sweetened water to drink. He left me, each time, in sorrow at my sad plight. On the morning of the last day of Passover he came and found me in a semi-conscious condition.
I asked him to pour some water over my hands and give me my siddur. This, he did, but the words swam before my eyes and my head spun. I then passed out completely.
When I regained consciousness I found the head nurse of the hospital standing beside me. She had, apparently, given me an injection which made me feel very hot.
"I don't know where this obstinate Jew gets such strength and resistance," I heard her say to David who was also present. She then left the room. David stayed with me until it got dark.
"Passover is now over," he said. I tried, but was too weak to recite the evening prayers. He brought me some white rusks and some sugar. He dipped the dry rusks into some sweet tea, and fed me like a child.
After my meal I fell asleep and did not awaken until the following morning. I was still so weak that David had to help me put on my tefillin.
Two days after Passover Berkovitch came to tell me the good news that he had been freed, and would soon be allowed to return home.
At the same time he told me that, whilst he was at the post office, he heard that, some time before Passover, a package had arrived for me from my home, but had been sent back by the censor.
Now it was clear to me why she had been so upset when I refused to eat her food on Passover. She was afraid I would die of hunger, and my death would be on her conscience.
The freed Berkovitch remained in town for two more weeks before leaving for home. Each day he brought me milk, potatoes, bread, some sugar, and once, something special--scallions! I gradually regained my strength.
Meanwhile I was called to the office of the superintendent of the camp. Berkovitch was present. Also the woman censor. The superintendent told me he had learned that the woman censor had sent back my package before Passover and, she had, in fact, admitted doing so.
Further investigation revealed that she had also withheld and destroyed two letters from my home, so that I should not know about the package they had sent me.
The superintendent asked me to sign a complaint against the censor, saying, "I will personally make sure she is punished."
The censor burst into tears and pleaded with the superintendent. "Have pity on me and on my orphaned children," she begged. "Their father gave his life for the Motherland," she sobbed.
"Don't ask me to have mercy on you. You must ask forgiveness from this man whom you have wronged so cruelly," he said.
I told the superintendent that the woman censor obviously regretted her inhuman behavior and had tried, somehow, to correct her misdeeds. In addition considering that her husband had died fighting the Nazis and had left her with the responsibility of caring for the orphans, I was ready to forgive her.
This, on condition that she would faithfully promise not to give any more trouble to the prisoners in the camp.
The superintendent was visibly impressed with my declaration of pardon. He promised not to report the matter to the higher authorities. He did, however, have the censor transferred to a position where she would have less authority.
Thus ended the matter. But that "foodless Passover" will remain in my mind all the days of my life. Thank G-d I am alive to tell the story...
By Nissan Mindel.
The Storyteller
Published and copyright by Kehot Publication Society Brooklyn, NY
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© Copyright 2015, all rights reserved.
Second Part of Passover: Splitting the Sea and Looking Forward
The Last Two Days of Passover In a Nutshell
By Menachem Posner
The seventh and eighth days of Passover are celebrated as Yom Tov, holidays, capping the weeklong celebration that begins with the first Seder. In Israel, only the seventh day is celebrated (you can read up on why that is so here). In Hebrew, the last two days are known as Shvii shel Pesach (Seventh of Passover) and Acharon shel Pesach (Last of Passover), respectively.
What happened on the seventh day of Passover?
On the 15th day of the month of Nissan, the children of Israel left Egypt, where they had served as slaves for generations. Despite his original stubborn refusal, after 10 debilitating plagues, Pharaoh relented and allowed Israel to leave Egypt for a three-day spiritual retreat in the desert.
Three days later, when the Israelites failed to return, Pharaoh realized that they were gone for good, safely on their way to independence and freedom in the Promised Land. He bridled his best warhorse and called his nation to join him in pursuit of his erstwhile slaves.
After a short chase, the Egyptian army caught up with the Israelites at the banks of the red sea. The Israelites were trapped; there was nowhere to go but into the sea.
Then G‑d commanded Moses to raise his staff and the sea split, allowing the Israelites to comfortably cross on dry land. When the Egyptians attempted to follow the Israelites across, the sea came crashing down on them. Chariots, riders and horses all perished in the churning sea.
Overwhelmed with gratitude, Moses led the Israelites in singing the Song of the Sea. Miriam led the women in an additional song of thanks, accompanied by tambourines and drums.
This miracle took place in the wee hours of the morning of the Seventh of Passover.
What do we do to celebrate?
The seventh and eighth days of Passover are full holidays. Like other holidays, we do no work, other than certain acts connected to food preparation, and we recite holiday prayers. But there are also special practices for the last days of Passover:
Don’t blink. Many people have the custom to remain awake the entire night preceding the seventh day of Passover, studying Torah as a way of thanking G‑d for the miracle He did at that time.
Read it again. During the morning services of the seventh day, the Torah reading includes the biblical narrative of our miraculous salvation at the sea and the song we sang.
Sip and dip. Many people have the custom to make sure that the matzah does not come in contact with moisture, lest some leftover flour become leavened. On the eighth day of Passover, this restriction is relaxed, and matzah can be mixed with water and other liquids to create Passover favorites like matzah balls and matzah brei.
Yizkor. During the morning services of the eighth day, Yizkor memorial prayers are recited for departed relatives.
Futuristic dining. The Baal Shem Tov remarked that on the last day of Passover, the rays of the messianic redemption are already shining bright. He instituted that a special meal be held during the waning hours of the day. Rabbi Shalom Dov Ber of Lubavitch added four cups of wine to the meal, mirroring the Seders held on the first nights of the holiday. (In Israel, this meal and Yizkor are observed on day seven).
Rabbi Menachem Posner serves as staff editor for Chabad.org.
© Copyright 2015, all rights reserved.
Second Part of Passover: Splitting the Sea and Looking Forward
What Makes You Tick? By Mendy Herson
The answer may appear obvious, but there may be deeper meaning beneath the surface.
Let's consider "Jim." He is pounding the pavement looking for a job. The search is consuming him, so that's what drives him now.
Or is it?
After all, is work his deepest desire?
Actually, it's not a job he's after, but… money.
Jim needs a job in order to generate money. His primary need is funding, not a job per se.
But why? Does he want money for money's sake?
No. Jim actually wants comfort, security, etc. And for that, Jim needs money.
And for that, Jim needs a job.
Jim might have honestly answered our original question with "the job search." But it's obviously much deeper.
His deepest need may actually be self-preservation, self-respect, familial-validation, etc.
But he'll only find that when he pierces through his layers.
In many ways, we are Jim, as we struggle for inner freedom.
Jim's process is actually step two of our Passover "freedom train."
Step one is to identify our personal "Egypts"—the external distractions, pleasures, fears, etc., that trap and control us. Freedom comes through transcending our Egypts, to freely live our lives according to our own deeper vision.
But leaving Egypt isn't really possible until you know where you want to go. I can't freely live as myself until I've identified myself.
What is my deeper vision?
The Jews' ultimate disengagement from Egypt came through crossing the Sea.
G‑d's splitting the sea symbolizes exposing our inner "dry land," by pushing aside the layers of personality that obscure our deepest selves, as the waters cover the sea.
By identifying our deepest selves, through our own efforts and through the power of Passover, we can find – and perhaps reconfigure – our own deepest principles.
Crossing your personal sea puts you on the path to true freedom: A meaningful life.
This weekend we celebrate the Jews' crossing of the sea.
Make it count.
Rabbi Mendy Herson is director of the Chabad Jewish Center in Basking Ridge, New Jersey.
© Copyright 2015, all rights reserved.
Second Part of Passover: Splitting the Sea and Looking Forward
Why Are We Afraid of Being Happy? By Lieba Rudolph
I went with my daughter Mushkie for a sonogram shortly before her baby was born. The technician coordinated the procedure with dexterity, maneuvering the scanner, clicking the keyboard, pressing the pedal, directing the arrow on the screen to point out parts of a face. She clearly circled a nose and then an eye socket.
But I couldn't see what she meant; all I saw was a blur of black on white, or maybe it was white on black, definitely not a face.All I saw was a blur of black on white
"Is it looking at us or is it looking up?" I asked in my last futile attempt to see what she saw. I wanted to just say that I saw it, but I couldn't. My mind had simply not grasped any semblance of a baby's face.
"Everything looks good," she pronounced.
"Thank G‑d," I answered, trusting that she knew what she was talking about.
The long awaited Redemption, G‑d's promise to the entire Jewish nation, has been likened to a birth. But until that time arrives, the world looks like that sonogram. It's all coming together perfectly, but it can be challenging to see it now.
A Jew whose very life pulsates with the G‑dliness of Torah is like that technician; such a person knows just what to do and how to recognize everything. Then there are those who want to appreciate what's happening, even though sometimes it's hard to get the picture. And of course, there are many people who aren't even in the room. Some are unaware that the "baby" is soon to arrive, and others don't seem to care.
And there are people who say there's not a baby at all. To those people, life is just a jumble, not worth deciphering, not leading to anything.
My question is, how can these people be happy?
A recent Fox News poll showed that people's happiness has declined over the last decade. It's ironic that we live better than anyone on the planet has ever lived, yet that hasn't done the trick. Some would say it is precisely our material well-being that is causing our spiritual malaise: we are all consumed with ourselves. In Jewish terms, we suffer from yeshut, a preoccupation with our own ego.How can these people be happy?
Judaism says happiness is achieved in the exact opposite way. True happiness, simchah, comes from bittul, a total dedication to doing what G‑d wants, such that one's ego is totally nullified. The closer we get to this way of living, the happier we are. If my life is all about me, at the end of the day, I am finite. And that's enough to make me sad.
I am not ashamed to say that I became observant because I wanted to be happier. I didn't realize how much work it would take, but I am much happier believing that I am here for G‑d's purposes rather than for my own.
And what makes me happiest of all are the clear signs that Moshiach is arriving imminently. True, the world is confused and evil is rampant, but yesterday, when the garbage man got out of his truck to direct my car so I could pass, I was in a good mood all morning. A little kindness goes a long way. Like that technician, I am trying to train myself to know what to do and what to look for.
Why are these "unhappy" Jews afraid to take one step closer to G‑d, or even acknowledge that they would like Moshiach to come?
I think it's because the very terms "Messiah" and "Redemption"—even "G‑d"—have strong non-Jewish connotations that make Jewish people squeamish. It doesn't matter to these people that belief in the coming of Moshiach is a basic tenet of Jewish faith. We are used to hearing about how only certain people are "saved" by the Messiah and those people never include Jews. Compounded by the fact that a perfect world just sounds too good to be true, belief in Moshiach doesn't stand a chance.
This could partly explain why a few friends have told me they will never believe in the concept of Moshiach.
But the true expert, the Lubavitcher Rebbe, Rabbi Menachem Mendel Schneerson, of righteous memory, saw a perfect baby ready to be born. To "deliver" it, all we need to do is increase in acts of goodness and kindness. Yes, the Jewish "sonogram" is a mysterious picture filled with miraculous triumphs and unspeakable pain, but all of this is secondary to the job at hand: delivering the baby.A little kindness goes a long way
Contrary to popular belief, there is nothing to fear, no reason to hope that the Torah is wrong on this one.
Maybe our generation doesn’t fully merit Moshiach, certainly not when you think of our ancestors who sacrificed so much for G‑d and Torah. But here in the land of lattes, a little sacrifice of myself for G‑d goes a long way—because it's so easy to be preoccupied with ourselves,
G‑d appreciates everything we do for Him. Even if we do it because we want to be happy.
But if we really want to be happy, each and every one of us can ask G‑d to bring Moshiach now.
What is it we're afraid of?
Lieba Rudolph lives in Pittsburgh, PA, and writes a weekly blog about Jewish spirituality.
© Copyright 2015, all rights reserved.
Lifestyle
20 Recipes You Want to Make this Passover By Miriam Szokovski
Sweet Potato Crisps Salad
Spice up your salad with a homemade crunch.
Tropical Fruity Salad with Citrus Avocado Dressing
Fresh and healthy!
This revelation is incomparable to anything we know, but perhaps we can sense a tiny glimmer of such a reality during a “peak experience.” Psychologist Abraham Maslow described peak experiences as moments during which we feel the maximum levels of happiness, harmony and possibility. These experiences can range from the deepening of everyday pleasure to “supernatural” occurrences of enhanced consciousness. Climbing Mount Everest, giving birth, producing a great creative work, one’s wedding day—all of these have been described as peak experiences in one’s life.
These momentous events would all pale in comparison to the splitting of the Red Sea, the ultimate peak experience. And yet the commentators tell us that the maidservants, after experiencing this open miracle, remained maidservants. What do they mean, and why is it important for us to understand this point?
The sages point out that following their peak experience, their “high,” the maidservants reverted back to their prior selves. Instead of taking advantage of the awe-inspiring revelations during the splitting of the sea, the maidservants squandered an opportunity for accelerated growth, insight and union with their Source. The prophet Ezekiel, on the other hand, may have bore witness to a more understated degree of divine revelation, but he utilized his spiritual opportunity to create a higher connection to G‑d.
Interestingly enough, the Talmud says that “to match couples together is as difficult as the splitting of the sea.”1
Why the comparison?
First off, according to Rabbi Adin Steinsaltz, whenever our sages refer to paradox, the unification of opposites, they refer to it as being as difficult as the parting of the Red Sea. Just as we were paradoxically able to walk on “a dry sea,” in marriage we are paradoxically asked to live with someone who seems to be from another planet!2
Perhaps another reason for the comparison between the splitting of the sea and marriage is that they both have miraculous origins. The wedding is the beginning of this divine miracle. In front of G‑d, and those you love, you enter a holy union with anticipation and hope. Starting a new life together, your world is your tabula rasa, your blank slate. Your heightened senses bring the awe and love you feel for one another into undeniable view. You want to give. You want to be the best possible partner. You are at the apex of a peak experience; you are in the middle of a genuine high. This is a moment that can be a catalyst for great personal and spiritual growth. It is not only about you anymore. You have another. There is potential for great transformation here.
Remember the maidservants? After their great awakening, they returned to their earlier ways.
When the wedding is over, and the intense bliss is on its way down, will you remember the compassion, kindness and commitment that you felt during your great awakening? When you settle down, and life becomes more routine, and the responsibilities begin to pile up, will you remember to be as receptive, forgiving and unselfish as you were on your special day? And as the years go by, and the inevitable challenges emerge, will you still cultivate the closeness you felt with your spouse during your peak experience?
How fortunate are we that, at some point in our lives, we may be given the gift of an elevated awareness, a peak experience. During those times, it is important to take positive action to ensure that what we gleaned during those moments will not remain just a vague feeling.Will you still cultivate the closeness? We have to step up during the “highs” and internalize their messages. When we are moved by a piece of music, when we arrive at a meditative bliss, when our babies are born, when it is our turn under the chupah, let us not remain the maidservants that we were before. Let us transform.
Karen Wolfers Rapaport is a psychotherapist and workshop leader specializing in Narrative Therapy. A proud mother, she is blessed to live in Israel. She is inspired by people’s stories. She is equally inspired by how they gain strength through them.
FOOTNOTES
1. Sotah 2a.
2. Steinsaltz, Adin. Change and Renewal: The Essence of the Jewish Holidays, Festivals and Days of Remembrance. Maggid, 2011.
© Copyright 2015, all rights reserved.
Women
They Said Her Child Would be Born with Down Syndrome By Elana Mizrahi
I had never done this before—walk into a labor room to help deliver a baby without having met the mother or at least talked to her on the phone first.
The air in the room was heavy, and my newest client looked miserable and lost. I looked into her eyes, gave her a huge smile and introduced myself. Then we breathed through a contraction together, my eyes never leaving hers, my hand firmly on her shoulder.She looked miserable and lost
Could it really have been only an hour earlier that I was thinking how calm and quiet the morning was? I had accidentally left my phone at home when I went to the market to pick up some vegetables. When I returned, I saw four missed calls from an unknown number. I dialed the number and a nervous man answered.
“My wife is in labor, and we are on our way to the hospital. It’s a first birth. We don’t know what we are doing. Can you come?”
I was caught off guard, but told the man that I would try to come. I made phone calls arranging for my kids to be taken care of after school, grabbed my labor coach bag and made my way to the hospital at full speed.
I didn’t know this woman, but it was obvious that she needed me, that G‑d had arranged things so that I could be with her. The fact that I didn’t know her or her story really didn’t matter at this point. I rolled up my sleeves and focused my full attention on the woman in front of me. My goal was to help this laboring mother and her child in the journey of birth.
After about 15 minutes, this 25-year-old first-time mother turned to me and said, “They told me that the baby could be born with Down’s syndrome. I’m afraid.”
Deep breath, focus on the goal. I looked into her eyes again, touched her shoulder and told her, “Now we are in the birth. Let’s stay focused on the labor. We are going to take one step at a time.”
One step at a time. One contraction at a time. One goal at a time. G‑d give me strength to focus and get through this one moment.
For the next five hours she labored beautifully, and at last her child was born. Was the baby born with Down’s syndrome? Was the baby healthy? One moment at a time. One test at a time. One breath at a time. And with one goal: to see the blessing in every moment.
Why is it so hard to stay focused on our goals?Seder night arrives. The table is set
For some people, the beginning of the month of Nissan means the beginning of Passover cleaning. The tasks are enormous, and the amount of cleaning, shopping and cooking can be overwhelming.
We have to approach Passover preparations one goal time at a time. One drawer at a time. If I start here, but get distracted there, I’ll never make it.
And then the Seder night arrives. The table is set. Everything is ready. Everything is clean and shining. But do we remember the goal of all this preparation?
A Jew is commanded to remember the Exodus from Egypt every single day of his or her life. The Exodus is the foundation of our becoming a nation, the foundation of our faith, and it is an event that is connected to dozens and dozens of other commandments. It is an event that is so significant in our lives because it is a story of pure and simple faith.
After fleeing Egypt and Pharaoh our former masters caught up with us and cried out, “We want our slaves back!” Behind us was the Egyptian army. In front of us stood the sea. Everyone was in a panic as they looked behind them and in front of them. What now? Distraction.
The children of Israel and Moses cried out, and G‑d asked Moses, “Why do you cry out? Tell them to move forward!” G‑d then told Moshe to stretch forth his staff, and the sea split.
Have faith, G‑d was saying. Keep traveling. This was not the time to think about about what would be. This was not the time to think about what had already been. This was the time to move forward with faith that G‑d would take care of them. And it was when they reached the other side and saw their enemies destroyed behind them that they could sing. They needed to first get through the test, to have faith in G‑d and to take action based on that faith, and then they could praise and sing.
We have made it through the cleaning. We have made it through the Seder night. And now, the holiday is coming to an end. Are we already distracted? Have we lost sight of our Seder night faith? Are we already thinking about the task of putting away the Passover dishes or the pile of laundry?Stay focused! Enjoy!
Stay focused! Enjoy the last days of Passover, and breathe the holy air that encompasses you on these days. Stay connected to pure and simple faith. There might be tragedy in front of you and behind you, but stay in the moment. Plunge into the sea and go forward with faith, and He will bring you to the other side.
Originally from northern California and a Stanford University graduate, Elana Mizrahi now lives in Jerusalem with her husband and children. She is a doula, massage therapist, writer, and author of Dancing Through Life, a book for Jewish women. She also teaches Jewish marriage classes for brides.
© Copyright 2015, all rights reserved.
Story
Surviving Passover in the Siberian Gulag By Nissan Mindel
Foleh Kahan was serving a three-year sentence for the crime of "harmful acts against the State." This, however, was a libel. The truth was that he was a religious Jew who had committed the "crime" of keeping his Judaism in every possible way he could, and encouraging other Jews to practice it.
When this was discovered, he was sent to a "Correctional Labor Camp" in Siberia, to be reeducated in the company of political offenders. He later wrote an account of his experiences.
It was Passover in the year 1943, the third of his sentence. This is how he began his moving narrative:
"A few weeks before Passover, I received a letter from my home, telling me they were sending a package with matzos and other Passover products as in previous years. This letter had first been addressed to the previous camp where I had been working, and then it was forwarded to my new camp. I wrote home at once to inform them of my new address, and hoped that the package would reach me in time.
I gave my letter to David, a friend of mine, who was the manager of the Food Department in the camp. He, in turn, passed it on to someone outside the camp who was going to Moscow.
I eagerly awaited this package of matzos and Passover products which would enable me to observe Passover properly, as well as strengthen me, for I had become rather weak and suffered from stomach trouble.
One day, the woman who was the head of the "political division" of the labor camp came to see me. She was also the censor of letters and packages addressed to the prisoners.
She was new to the job and came to ask me if I was still keeping to my religious beliefs and practices. Was I still abstaining from working on Sabbaths and holidays and not eating the meals served from the Camp kitchen? Incidentally, she also asked me: "What is matza?"
I explained it all to her, then she asked: "When is Passover?" I replied: "In ten days' time."
"What will you do if your expected package of matzos does not come in time?" she asked.
"I would just eat potatoes," I answered.
"And if you don't get potatoes?"
"Then I would have no choice but to go hungry."
"For eight days?" she asked, wonderingly.
"The Almighty will not forsake me," I replied.
The conversation ended there, and she left.
The first Seder night arrived. No package. No matzos. No Passover provisions. I had invited David and a Jew named Berkovitch to my "seder." We had covered the table with a clean sheet of paper to serve as a tablecloth. We had boiled a kettle of water. I poured out glasses of tea, which were to serve us in place of the four cups of wine we should have had.
Then, to their unbelieving eyes, I produced three whole matzos! Thus, we observed the first seder. I recited as much of the haggadah as I could remember.
The following night there were no matzos. We again had tea in place of wine, and three pieces of sugar completed our seder. I again recited the haggadah from memory. I then told my guests the secret of how I had the matzos for the previous seder.
"Since I'm in the labor camps I always saved a few matzos from one Passover to the next, in case I'd have difficulty getting matzos for the following Passover. This year, luckily, these matzos were a blessing, and I was thankful that I'd had such forethought."
David was very angry with me for not telling them that this year I had not received any matzos for Passover.
"We would certainly not have eaten your last piece of matza last night had we known," he declared.
"That is the very reason I did not tell you," I answered. "It's a mitzvah for every Jew to eat a piece of matzo on the seder nights. During the rest of Passover we must only refrain from eating chametz(leaven). One can manage with eating potatoes, fruits, vegetables, etc." I said.
"You can forget about fruits, and it's not so easy to obtain potatoes either," retorted David. "How do you expect to survive a whole Passover?" he demanded, heatedly.
"I was given a blessing by my father that I will return home in peace, and, with G-d's help, I will manage," I replied calmly.
David was not mollified, and left in a sulk. I saw him only a couple of times during the whole of Passover. He then tried to persuade me to eat chametz or, at least, have something from the camp kitchen if I did not wish to die of hunger!
When he failed to convince me, he avoided me; he could not bear to see me suffering hunger, it seemed.
On the third day of Passover I had an unexpected visitor: the woman censor.
I was at work and she noticed that my hands were trembling. She realized that I was weak from lack of food.
"I have brought you something to eat," she said, and brought out a freshly baked roll. The appetizing aroma made my head spin! I told her that we Jews are not allowed to eat that on Passover. I thanked her and refused it. She left without saying anything more.
The next day she visited me again, and I was really feeling much weaker. This time she brought me some cookies made from white flour (a luxury).
"I baked these myself," she said, "with sugar and oil. You must eat them, otherwise you will die of hunger! " I thanked her, but again refused.
"You are probably wondering why I am so concerned about you," she said. "You probably have a wife and children who are waiting for the time when you will be free to return to them. I sympathize with them. I have no husband waiting for me. He was an officer in this camp and was sent to the battlefront. He fell in action, fighting against the Hitlerites. Now, do please take a cookie! It will do you good," she pleaded.
"Thank you, no. I am sorry to hear about your loss, but please leave me alone."
She went out, obviously annoyed at her failure to persuade me to eat anything she had brought me. I felt so weak, I had to lie down on my bed, and I had no more strength to get up.
Berkovitch came to see me a few times and brought me some warm, sweetened water to drink. He left me, each time, in sorrow at my sad plight. On the morning of the last day of Passover he came and found me in a semi-conscious condition.
I asked him to pour some water over my hands and give me my siddur. This, he did, but the words swam before my eyes and my head spun. I then passed out completely.
When I regained consciousness I found the head nurse of the hospital standing beside me. She had, apparently, given me an injection which made me feel very hot.
"I don't know where this obstinate Jew gets such strength and resistance," I heard her say to David who was also present. She then left the room. David stayed with me until it got dark.
"Passover is now over," he said. I tried, but was too weak to recite the evening prayers. He brought me some white rusks and some sugar. He dipped the dry rusks into some sweet tea, and fed me like a child.
After my meal I fell asleep and did not awaken until the following morning. I was still so weak that David had to help me put on my tefillin.
Two days after Passover Berkovitch came to tell me the good news that he had been freed, and would soon be allowed to return home.
At the same time he told me that, whilst he was at the post office, he heard that, some time before Passover, a package had arrived for me from my home, but had been sent back by the censor.
Now it was clear to me why she had been so upset when I refused to eat her food on Passover. She was afraid I would die of hunger, and my death would be on her conscience.
The freed Berkovitch remained in town for two more weeks before leaving for home. Each day he brought me milk, potatoes, bread, some sugar, and once, something special--scallions! I gradually regained my strength.
Meanwhile I was called to the office of the superintendent of the camp. Berkovitch was present. Also the woman censor. The superintendent told me he had learned that the woman censor had sent back my package before Passover and, she had, in fact, admitted doing so.
Further investigation revealed that she had also withheld and destroyed two letters from my home, so that I should not know about the package they had sent me.
The superintendent asked me to sign a complaint against the censor, saying, "I will personally make sure she is punished."
The censor burst into tears and pleaded with the superintendent. "Have pity on me and on my orphaned children," she begged. "Their father gave his life for the Motherland," she sobbed.
"Don't ask me to have mercy on you. You must ask forgiveness from this man whom you have wronged so cruelly," he said.
I told the superintendent that the woman censor obviously regretted her inhuman behavior and had tried, somehow, to correct her misdeeds. In addition considering that her husband had died fighting the Nazis and had left her with the responsibility of caring for the orphans, I was ready to forgive her.
This, on condition that she would faithfully promise not to give any more trouble to the prisoners in the camp.
The superintendent was visibly impressed with my declaration of pardon. He promised not to report the matter to the higher authorities. He did, however, have the censor transferred to a position where she would have less authority.
Thus ended the matter. But that "foodless Passover" will remain in my mind all the days of my life. Thank G-d I am alive to tell the story...
By Nissan Mindel.
The Storyteller
Published and copyright by Kehot Publication Society Brooklyn, NY
Click Here To 0rder
© Copyright 2015, all rights reserved.
Second Part of Passover: Splitting the Sea and Looking Forward
The Last Two Days of Passover In a Nutshell
By Menachem Posner
The seventh and eighth days of Passover are celebrated as Yom Tov, holidays, capping the weeklong celebration that begins with the first Seder. In Israel, only the seventh day is celebrated (you can read up on why that is so here). In Hebrew, the last two days are known as Shvii shel Pesach (Seventh of Passover) and Acharon shel Pesach (Last of Passover), respectively.
What happened on the seventh day of Passover?
On the 15th day of the month of Nissan, the children of Israel left Egypt, where they had served as slaves for generations. Despite his original stubborn refusal, after 10 debilitating plagues, Pharaoh relented and allowed Israel to leave Egypt for a three-day spiritual retreat in the desert.
Three days later, when the Israelites failed to return, Pharaoh realized that they were gone for good, safely on their way to independence and freedom in the Promised Land. He bridled his best warhorse and called his nation to join him in pursuit of his erstwhile slaves.
After a short chase, the Egyptian army caught up with the Israelites at the banks of the red sea. The Israelites were trapped; there was nowhere to go but into the sea.
Then G‑d commanded Moses to raise his staff and the sea split, allowing the Israelites to comfortably cross on dry land. When the Egyptians attempted to follow the Israelites across, the sea came crashing down on them. Chariots, riders and horses all perished in the churning sea.
Overwhelmed with gratitude, Moses led the Israelites in singing the Song of the Sea. Miriam led the women in an additional song of thanks, accompanied by tambourines and drums.
This miracle took place in the wee hours of the morning of the Seventh of Passover.
What do we do to celebrate?
The seventh and eighth days of Passover are full holidays. Like other holidays, we do no work, other than certain acts connected to food preparation, and we recite holiday prayers. But there are also special practices for the last days of Passover:
Don’t blink. Many people have the custom to remain awake the entire night preceding the seventh day of Passover, studying Torah as a way of thanking G‑d for the miracle He did at that time.
Read it again. During the morning services of the seventh day, the Torah reading includes the biblical narrative of our miraculous salvation at the sea and the song we sang.
Sip and dip. Many people have the custom to make sure that the matzah does not come in contact with moisture, lest some leftover flour become leavened. On the eighth day of Passover, this restriction is relaxed, and matzah can be mixed with water and other liquids to create Passover favorites like matzah balls and matzah brei.
Yizkor. During the morning services of the eighth day, Yizkor memorial prayers are recited for departed relatives.
Futuristic dining. The Baal Shem Tov remarked that on the last day of Passover, the rays of the messianic redemption are already shining bright. He instituted that a special meal be held during the waning hours of the day. Rabbi Shalom Dov Ber of Lubavitch added four cups of wine to the meal, mirroring the Seders held on the first nights of the holiday. (In Israel, this meal and Yizkor are observed on day seven).
Rabbi Menachem Posner serves as staff editor for Chabad.org.
© Copyright 2015, all rights reserved.
Second Part of Passover: Splitting the Sea and Looking Forward
What Makes You Tick? By Mendy Herson
The answer may appear obvious, but there may be deeper meaning beneath the surface.
Let's consider "Jim." He is pounding the pavement looking for a job. The search is consuming him, so that's what drives him now.
Or is it?
After all, is work his deepest desire?
Actually, it's not a job he's after, but… money.
Jim needs a job in order to generate money. His primary need is funding, not a job per se.
But why? Does he want money for money's sake?
No. Jim actually wants comfort, security, etc. And for that, Jim needs money.
And for that, Jim needs a job.
Jim might have honestly answered our original question with "the job search." But it's obviously much deeper.
His deepest need may actually be self-preservation, self-respect, familial-validation, etc.
But he'll only find that when he pierces through his layers.
In many ways, we are Jim, as we struggle for inner freedom.
Jim's process is actually step two of our Passover "freedom train."
Step one is to identify our personal "Egypts"—the external distractions, pleasures, fears, etc., that trap and control us. Freedom comes through transcending our Egypts, to freely live our lives according to our own deeper vision.
But leaving Egypt isn't really possible until you know where you want to go. I can't freely live as myself until I've identified myself.
What is my deeper vision?
The Jews' ultimate disengagement from Egypt came through crossing the Sea.
G‑d's splitting the sea symbolizes exposing our inner "dry land," by pushing aside the layers of personality that obscure our deepest selves, as the waters cover the sea.
By identifying our deepest selves, through our own efforts and through the power of Passover, we can find – and perhaps reconfigure – our own deepest principles.
Crossing your personal sea puts you on the path to true freedom: A meaningful life.
This weekend we celebrate the Jews' crossing of the sea.
Make it count.
Rabbi Mendy Herson is director of the Chabad Jewish Center in Basking Ridge, New Jersey.
© Copyright 2015, all rights reserved.
Second Part of Passover: Splitting the Sea and Looking Forward
Why Are We Afraid of Being Happy? By Lieba Rudolph
I went with my daughter Mushkie for a sonogram shortly before her baby was born. The technician coordinated the procedure with dexterity, maneuvering the scanner, clicking the keyboard, pressing the pedal, directing the arrow on the screen to point out parts of a face. She clearly circled a nose and then an eye socket.
But I couldn't see what she meant; all I saw was a blur of black on white, or maybe it was white on black, definitely not a face.All I saw was a blur of black on white
"Is it looking at us or is it looking up?" I asked in my last futile attempt to see what she saw. I wanted to just say that I saw it, but I couldn't. My mind had simply not grasped any semblance of a baby's face.
"Everything looks good," she pronounced.
"Thank G‑d," I answered, trusting that she knew what she was talking about.
The long awaited Redemption, G‑d's promise to the entire Jewish nation, has been likened to a birth. But until that time arrives, the world looks like that sonogram. It's all coming together perfectly, but it can be challenging to see it now.
A Jew whose very life pulsates with the G‑dliness of Torah is like that technician; such a person knows just what to do and how to recognize everything. Then there are those who want to appreciate what's happening, even though sometimes it's hard to get the picture. And of course, there are many people who aren't even in the room. Some are unaware that the "baby" is soon to arrive, and others don't seem to care.
And there are people who say there's not a baby at all. To those people, life is just a jumble, not worth deciphering, not leading to anything.
My question is, how can these people be happy?
A recent Fox News poll showed that people's happiness has declined over the last decade. It's ironic that we live better than anyone on the planet has ever lived, yet that hasn't done the trick. Some would say it is precisely our material well-being that is causing our spiritual malaise: we are all consumed with ourselves. In Jewish terms, we suffer from yeshut, a preoccupation with our own ego.How can these people be happy?
Judaism says happiness is achieved in the exact opposite way. True happiness, simchah, comes from bittul, a total dedication to doing what G‑d wants, such that one's ego is totally nullified. The closer we get to this way of living, the happier we are. If my life is all about me, at the end of the day, I am finite. And that's enough to make me sad.
I am not ashamed to say that I became observant because I wanted to be happier. I didn't realize how much work it would take, but I am much happier believing that I am here for G‑d's purposes rather than for my own.
And what makes me happiest of all are the clear signs that Moshiach is arriving imminently. True, the world is confused and evil is rampant, but yesterday, when the garbage man got out of his truck to direct my car so I could pass, I was in a good mood all morning. A little kindness goes a long way. Like that technician, I am trying to train myself to know what to do and what to look for.
Why are these "unhappy" Jews afraid to take one step closer to G‑d, or even acknowledge that they would like Moshiach to come?
I think it's because the very terms "Messiah" and "Redemption"—even "G‑d"—have strong non-Jewish connotations that make Jewish people squeamish. It doesn't matter to these people that belief in the coming of Moshiach is a basic tenet of Jewish faith. We are used to hearing about how only certain people are "saved" by the Messiah and those people never include Jews. Compounded by the fact that a perfect world just sounds too good to be true, belief in Moshiach doesn't stand a chance.
This could partly explain why a few friends have told me they will never believe in the concept of Moshiach.
But the true expert, the Lubavitcher Rebbe, Rabbi Menachem Mendel Schneerson, of righteous memory, saw a perfect baby ready to be born. To "deliver" it, all we need to do is increase in acts of goodness and kindness. Yes, the Jewish "sonogram" is a mysterious picture filled with miraculous triumphs and unspeakable pain, but all of this is secondary to the job at hand: delivering the baby.A little kindness goes a long way
Contrary to popular belief, there is nothing to fear, no reason to hope that the Torah is wrong on this one.
Maybe our generation doesn’t fully merit Moshiach, certainly not when you think of our ancestors who sacrificed so much for G‑d and Torah. But here in the land of lattes, a little sacrifice of myself for G‑d goes a long way—because it's so easy to be preoccupied with ourselves,
G‑d appreciates everything we do for Him. Even if we do it because we want to be happy.
But if we really want to be happy, each and every one of us can ask G‑d to bring Moshiach now.
What is it we're afraid of?
Lieba Rudolph lives in Pittsburgh, PA, and writes a weekly blog about Jewish spirituality.
© Copyright 2015, all rights reserved.
Lifestyle
20 Recipes You Want to Make this Passover By Miriam Szokovski
Sweet Potato Crisps Salad
Spice up your salad with a homemade crunch.
Tropical Fruity Salad with Citrus Avocado Dressing
Fresh and healthy!
Herbed Tilapia in Lemon Butter Sauce
Fresh Sea Bass with Grapefruit Relish
Fresh and colorful!
Hot Russian Beet Borscht with Flanken
Almond Crusted Chicken Tenders with Honey-Lemon Sauce
Who doesn’t like fried chicken?
Chicken with Caramelized Potatoes and Sweet Potatoes
An easy, slow cook, one-dish dinner.
Coconut Crusted Chicken with Mango Chutney
A taste of Hawaii.
Vegetarian Mock Chopped Liver
Mushrooms and walnuts give this dip a unique flavor that everyone will enjoy.
Cauliflower Au Gratin
You won't miss the potatoes or the dairy that are typically found in a gratin.
Zucchini Ratatouille
Eat warm or cold.
Crispy Potato Roast
An elegant side dish for any meal.
Pulled Brisket
Serve in an egg crepe.
Rib Eye Steak with Mushroom Sauce
Get fancy!
Eggplant and Beef Rollatini with Tomato Sauce
It’s all in the presentation...
Pavlova
Embrace spring!
Vegan Instant Ice Cream
The healthiest ice cream you’ll ever eat!
Stawberry Apple Pear Fruit Compote
Make compote and this refreshing drink with one simple recipe.
Miriam Szokovski is the author of historical novel Exiled Down Under, and a member of the Chabad.org editorial team. She enjoys tinkering with recipes, and teaches cooking classes to young children. Miriam shares her love of cooking, baking and food photography on Chabad.org’s food blog, Cook It Kosher and in the N'shei Chabad Newsletter.
© Copyright 2015, all rights reserved.
Lifestyle
Passover Art Gallery
Miriam Stood From Afar
By Natalia Kadish
Giclee
Miriam had such faith in Hashem! She sent the only gateway to redemption down the river to be taken by literally the daughter of the other side, Pharaoh. Yet she still had faith that G‑d would take care of her brother.
Moses at the Burning Bush
By Yoram Raanan
An angel of the L-rd appeared to him [Moses] in a flame of fire from within the thorn bush, and behold, the thorn bush was burning with fire, but the thorn bush was not being consumed. So Moses said, "Let me turn now and see this great spectacle why does the thorn bush not burn up?" (Exodus 3:2-3)
The burning bush, sometimes identified as an acacia tree covered with red flowers and fruit, creates the impression of being illuminated but not consumed. Here in the painting the bush looks like a tree of life with golden light and jewel-like colors. Actually, the burning bush is a metaphor for the tree of life and both are symbols of miraculous energy and sacred light.
Here in the painting, as the Moses approaches the bush to investigate its special lights, his figure is overshadowed by the greatness of the vision. "I must turn aside," says Moses when he sees the burning bush, humbled by the vision and aware of his smallness He is engulfed in the heat of revelation as everything around the bush glows red hot. Tradition tells us that for seven days and nights Moses pleaded with G-d before accepting the mission to redeem the people of Israel and bring them to Sinai to receive the Torah on a mountain that was also ablaze.
The Book of Exodus
By Brooke Sendele
Colored Pencils, Chalk Pastel, Ink, and Charcoal on Bristol Board
One day in class, during a critique in which I displayed a Jewish-themed drawing, my professor said to me, “I Googled ‘Jewish art,’ and most of what I saw was Holocaust-related; that seems to be the ‘thing’ for Jewish artists. Are you going to work with that theme?”
Words cannot express the extent to which that bothered me. Why should the world’s view of the Jewish people be that of a formerly oppressed nation, not a culture that is rich in beliefs, traditions and Torah values? And how come the general population has no idea what Judaism entails? Why have we become “the people who died in the Holocaust” and “the people who don’t eat bacon”? With my art, I seek to change that perception, expand people’s horizons, and create works that encapsulate the Jewish culture and religion.
Staffs and Snakes
By Yoram Raanan
Moses and Aaron came to Pharaoh... Aaron cast his staff before Pharaoh and before his servants, and it became a serpent. Pharaoh too summoned the wise men and the magicians, and the necromancers of Egypt also did likewise with their magic. Each one of them cast down his staff, and they became serpents; but Aaron's staff swallowed their staffs... (Exodus 7:10-12)
The L‑rd said to Moses, "Say to Aaron, 'Take your staff and stretch forth your hand over the waters of Egypt, over their rivers, over their canals, over their ponds, and over all their bodies of water, and they will become blood, and there will be blood throughout the entire land of Egypt...’” (Exodus 7:19)
The metaphor of staffs and snakes appears twice in this week's Torah portion and in the corresponding painting. In the background are mysterious figures suggesting Moses and Aaron conversing with Pharaoh and his magicians. Their staff transform into large snakes, painted with broad streaks of color applied by hand. They seem to be slinking on the ground. In the sky the snake/staff of Aaron rises up ready to swallow the evil snakes of Egypt.
In their encounter at the Nile, Aaron's staff stretches over the river bringing on the first of the 10 plagues. The limited palette of black, white and red suggests that the darkness of Egypt is being transformed by the light of redemption as the waters of Egypt are turned to blood.
The Exodus
By Yoram Raanan
And they shall take [some] of the blood and put it on the two doorposts and on the lintel…And the blood will be for you for a sign upon the houses where you will be, and I will see the blood and skip over you….
It came to pass on that very day, that the L‑rd took the children of Israel out of the land of Egypt with their legions…this day will be for you as a memorial. (Exodus 12:7, 13, 51.)
The Jewish people begin their journey out of the darkness of Egypt at the first light of dawn. The red frame conveys the blood on their doorposts; a sign of protection from the last plague which brought death to the Egyptian firstborns. Darkness hangs above the people as the night sky is slowly transformed by daybreak. The figures seem to be moving quickly towards the light which guides them to freedom. We sense the poignancy of the moment. The Jewish people have made this journey from darkness into light over and over since this first exodus.
Cloud by Day; Fire by Night
By Mordecai Colodner
Acrylic Behind Acrylic Sheet
"God went before them by day in a pillar of cloud to lead them on the way, and by night in a pillar of fire to give them light.” (Exodus 13:21)
Painted on the back of a satin finish acrylic sheet, both the cloud and the fire are infused with the spirit of G-d, represented by the Hebrew letter “Shin” which stands for one of His sacred names.
Faith at the Sea of Reeds
By Mordecai Colodner
Acrylic on Stretched Canvas
When the Israelites came to the Reed Sea, G-d required that they show their faith before the sea would split. Nacshon ben Aminadav of the Tribe of Judah walked into the sea, deeper and deeper. When the water reached his neck, G-d split it.
Nachshon Ben Aminadav
By David Brook
This is a painting of Nachshon Ben Aminadav who walked into the sea when the Egyptians where chasing the Jews. He continued walking until the water reached his nostrils, then it parted and the nation was able to cross on dry land.
Invitation to Freedom
By Randy Zucker
Digital Art
In contrast to other images of the parting of the Red Sea during the Exodus, here the viewer is not off in the distance, objectively watching people swarm across... The viewer is there, part of the first group, being asked to make the decision to cross and trust that G-d will hold back the waters. Freedom is offered, but it is a scary unknown. One must truly abhor slavery, must truly yearn for freedom, to take that step. This piece requires a leap of faith and deep, subjective involvement, unlike many of my more passive, objective pieces. This work uses "painterly" effects to depict the almost violent power, passion and drama of the event.
Exodus
By Odi Kletski
Digital
Exodus depicts the triumphant events of the splitting of the sea. The colors, movement and expression of the piece capture the emotional impact of a nation exiting slavery. Hope, passion and unity are feelings included in Exodus.
The Splitting of the Sea
By Natalia Kadish
The splitting of the Reed Sea as the Jews left Egypt.
Celebrating the Miracle
By Ahuva Klein
The splitting of the sea and the celebratory singing which followed.
The Splitting of the Sea
By Yoram Raanan
“Then the children of Israel came into the midst of the sea on dry land, and the waters were to them as a wall from their right and from their left.” (Exodus 14:22)
The painting began as a beautiful abstract landscape. Wanting to find something greater, the artist painted over the previous painting and a huge wave emerged, like a wall of water. This opened a new pathway through the sea. As a gentle light seeps in, illuminating the pathway, it parts and forms walls of water. Much depended on the artist’s willingness to reach deeper and break through the barrier of mere prettiness. The way it was painted reflects what it is. Every day is a spiritual crossing, searching for the gifts hidden within the sea. Even though the Israelites crossed the sea thousands of years ago, the parting of the sea remains a timeless metaphor for taking a leap of faith, forging forward to discover hidden treasures.
Time for Passover
By Erik Kucera
Ink and Marker on Paper
This work represents the holiday and its meaning. On the bottom left you will see a representation of the afikomen, “hidden” just below the six sections of the Seder plate. The six circles are representative of the Seder plate, and foods found on the Seder plate are written in Hebrew.
In the middle is a clock of sorts. The clock shows when Passover starts—in the first month, Nissan, on the Jewish calendar, and between the third and fourth months on the Gregorian calendar.
Within the Star of David we see a depiction of the Exodus, including the pyramids and the splitting of the sea.
My intention was to depict images from the past with a modern flair, to symbolize that we should always remember the past, and always celebrate this day for generations to come.
The Passover Seder Plate
By Ahuva Klein
Overflowing Blessings
By Yitzchok Moully
My Cup Runneth Over” is a familiar expression quoted from Torah. And indeed it is true—at least for my life. All we need to do is look around and count our blessings, to see all the wonderful things G‑d has provided for us and the great opportunities we have. Lift your cup and raise a toast—L’chaim to G‑d.
Four Expressions of Redemption
By Ahuva Klein
The four cups of wine we drink at the Seder correspond to the four expressions of redemption
Al Netilat Yadayim (Blessing Upon Washing Hands)
By Brooke Sendele
Ink & Colored Pencil on Bristol Board
This piece represents the ritual hand-washing and the accompanying blessing “al netilat yadayim” I was inspired after searching for similar pieces and finding only instructional signs. Although many of them were beautiful and artsy, there was no art for art’s sake, and I saw a void to be filled. In creating this piece I aimed to fuse my modern, abstract and bright artistic style with a traditional subject matter to create a vibrant and exciting display of this important mitzvah.
With Gratitude
By Naomi Cohen
“Even if our mouths were filled with song as the sea [is filled with water], our tongue with melody as the roar of its waves, and our lips with praise as the breadth of the firmament; and our eyes were radiant like the sun and the moon, our hands spread out as the [wings of the] eagles of the sky, and our feet as swift as [those of] the deer—we would still be unable to thank You, L‑rd our G‑d and G‑d of our fathers . . .”—From the Passover Hagadah
Next Year in Jerusalem
By Cindy Lutz Kornet
Acrylic on Canvas, Printed Letters
My poetic depiction of how Israel might feel includes a bold Magen David (Star of David) displayed with great pride. The painting has energy and movement; I hope you can feel it and more.
The Time for Redemption has Arrived
By Hila Ben Itzhak
This is how I picture the Redemption.
© Copyright 2015, all rights reserved.
Jewish News
For 113 Orphaned Boys, a Joyous Bar Mitzvah Celebration in Jerusalem
By Chabad.org Staff
Three of the 113 young men from around Israel who marked their bar mitzvahs at the Western Wall in Jerusalem by being called to the Torah. (Photo: Kobi Amsalem)
When he was 7, Maor S. from the southern Israeli town of Kiryat Malachi lost his mother to cancer. Each year, his grandmother and aunt struggled to find the emotional strength to celebrate his birthday with the happiness the boy deserved, but it was always difficult. They were all the more worried when it came to preparing for Maor’s bar mitzvah at the age of 13, when he would be called to the Torah and in Jewish tradition considered a man.
But then his aunt heard about an initiative sponsored by Colel Chabad, Israel’s longest-running charity. Each year, the organization invites orphaned boys to celebrate their bar mitzvahs alongside others who also lost parents at early ages, with all expenses covered by donors.
The past annual celebrations have always drawn their inspiration from the Rebbe, Rabbi Menachem M. Schneerson, of righteous memory, and in recent years the number of orphans involved corresponds to the number of years since the Rebbe’s birth. This year’s celebration was especially auspicious, coming on the day before 11 Nisan, the anniversary of the Rebbe’s birth, and 100 years since the Rebbe’s own bar mitzvah.
So on Monday, Maor joined another 112 boys at the Western Wall in Jerusalem to mark the milestone. The event was designed to ensure that the boys and their parents would truly be guests, able to enjoy the simcha in every way. Many of the families in attendance came from economically disadvantaged backgrounds, where the prospect of such a complete celebration would never have been possible.
Upon arrival in Jerusalem, each boy was provided with a brand-new tallit and set of tefillin—a purchase that can cost hundreds of dollars. The boys also received a kipah (skullcap), which they wore as they were danced down from the Western Wall plaza to the wall itself—the Kotel—where they made the traditional blessing over the Torah for the first time.
Rabbi Yitzchak Michaan with one of the bar mitzvah boys. (Photo: Kobi Amsalem)
The collection of families at the event was as diverse as Israeli society itself. Boys traveled from as far away as Kiryat Shmona on the northern border to Eilat in the south. Although many of the children came from observant backgrounds, for others, this represented their first exposure to an organized religious service.
The one thing that united them was the loss of at least one parent. Some had lost their mother or father to illness, others to tragic accidents or terror attacks, and in some cases, to suicide.
Every effort was made to focus on the happiness of the day, leaving the child’s pain aside.
Dinner, Gifts and Wise Words
The first such gathering was held in 1992, when Colel Chabad, the longest continuously running charity in Israel, founded in 1788 by the first Chabad Rebbe, Rabbi Shneur Zalman of Liadi, initiated a mass Bar Mitzvah in the merit of the Rebbe. That celebration included nearly 1,000 recent Russian immigrants to Israel.
The idea for the current program, now in its seventh year, was conceived of by Rabbi Yitzchak Michaan, Chabad-Lubavitch emissary in Brazil and director of Mercaz Hayehudit Bait Brazil. A father of 13 who lost his wife to illness, the rabbi came up with the idea at his son’s bar mitzvah to ensure that orphaned children could be surrounded by others in similar situations on days of celebration. What started in 2008 with 10 boys has now grown to 113.
A lavishly decorated banquet hall at Binyanei Hauma convention center in Jerusalem awaited the guests, who were treated to a gourmet dinner and musical entertainment. (Photo: Kobi Amsalem)
A similar program exists for girls. In February, 36 girls from across Israel came together in Jerusalem for a joint bat mitzvah celebration, complete with a celebratory dinner, speakers, singing and dancing.
“During times of happiness, I know that these families feel that something is missing in their lives. So our goal was to ensure that these children know that they are not alone—that they can be truly happy, and that life will go on despite the obvious pain and loss they are feeling,” said Michaan.
Rabbi Sholom Duchman, international director of Colel Chabad, says the bar mitzvah program is just one facet of a national effort that has reached nearly 1,800 boys and girls who have lost parents. “On days like today, we want these children to feel the joy that any normal child experiences on his bar mitzvah,” he said.
After the ceremony in the Old City, the children and their families were taken by bus to the Binyanei Hauma convention center at the entrance to Jerusalem. A lavishly decorated banquet hall awaited the guests, who were treated to a multi-course gourmet meal and musical entertainment. Also present at the gathering were numerous dignitaries, including close to 30 members of Knesset, among them Knesset Speaker Yuli Edelstein.
Each boy was brought up to the stage and presented with a personalized gift and given a special blessing.
Rabbi Michaan, left, and Rabbi Sholom Duchman at the evening celebration. (Photo: Kobi Amsalem)
One mother of six, Eliana Zilberman, looked on with tears in her eyes as she spoke about the importance of this day for her son Aviad, whose father Shmulik was killed less than three years earlier in a work accident. She said Aviad was initially nervous to come, but when he saw other boys in a similar situation, he quickly warmed up.
“This event reminded us that people truly care about others. The reality is that for many kids in this situation, true happiness is not something they get to feel very often,” acknowledged the boy’s mother. “But today, they felt it, and we will all remain appreciative for the rest of our lives.”
A delegation of the bar mitzvah boys was also honored to meet with Israeli Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu in his office. Congratulating them, the premier shared a message he himself received years earlier from the Rebbe, calling on them to use their experiences to become a flame of light that dispels the darkness around them in the world.
Celebrating at the Kotel. (Photo: Kobi Amsalem)
Dancing with family and friends. (Photo: Kobi Amsalem
The celebrants were as diverse as Israeli society itself. (Photo: Kobi Amsalem)
Traditional music, singing and dancing at the Western Wall plaza.
Boys traveled from as far away as Kiryat Shmona on the northern border to Eilat in the south. Although many of the children came from observant backgrounds, for others, this represented their first exposure to an organized religious service. (Photo: Kobi Amsalem)
© Copyright 2015, all rights reserved.
Jewish News
Deaf Jews Celebrate Their Heritage at Deaflympics
By Menachem Posner
Rabbi Yehoshua Soudakoff, who is Deaf, hosted a Shabbat dinner last week for a dozen guests at the Deaflympics in Khanty Mansiysk, Russia. (Photo: Anna Volkova)
As one of the only rabbis serving the Deaf community, Rabbi Yehoshua Soudakoff is constantly on the go.
Right now, he’s in Khanty Mansiysk, Russia, bringing Shabbat, matzah and Jewish awareness to contestants and guests at the 18th Winter Deaflympics, which runs from March 28 to April 5.
Since the first Deaflympics—then called the “International Games for the Deaf”—were held in Paris in 1924, the sports competition has grown to include many nationalities, including Israel, which normally sends a team to the summer event. Yet Soudakoff—who is Deaf—says this is the first time that Jewish programming has been organized for the athletes and participants of the games.
“I’m proud to be here to represent the Jewish Deaf community,” says the Los Angeles native, who has led many programs for Russian Deaf Jews in the past few years with the support of the Russian Jewish community under the leadership of Rabbi Berel Lazar, the chief rabbi of Russia.
Hosting a Shabbat dinner last Friday for a dozen guests required quite a bit of organization. Rabbi Yerachmiel Gorelik—co-director of Chabad-Lubavitch of Tyumen, Russia, some 630 kilometers to the southwest—provided the kosher food, which was shipped from his community to Khanty Mansiysk. He also helped coordinate the details of the Shabbat meal with the hotel venue. All told, eight boxes of food were shipped from Tyumen, and in preparation for Passover, two more from Moscow contained matzah and wine.
“When I was growing up, I never understood what it meant to celebrate Shabbat because I never had a Deaf rabbi around to explain it to me,” says Minnesota native David Nathanson of the U.S. curling team, who took part in the Shabbat meal.
Soudakoff with Alik Yakovlev, a former camper of his representing Russia on the alpine skiing team.
Two sign languages are used at the main Deaflympics events: Russian Sign Language and International Sign, a more simplified sign language that most Deaf people can understand regardless of their native sign language. Soudakoff uses both, in addition to American Sign Language.
Although he will be returning to California this week to celebrate Passover with his family, Soudakoff says he’s been very busy distributing handmade shmurah matzah to the Jewish athletes, journalists and guests—some of whom did not even know they were Jewish.
“I met a guy on the USA hockey team,” the rabbi reports. “I asked him if he was Jewish. He said, ‘No, my parents are Christian.’ Then, as an afterthought, he added, ‘My mother used to be Jewish, but she goes to church now.’ ”
The sentiment of many of the athletes can perhaps be best expressed in the words of Russian Deaf historian Victor Palenny, 51, who among his many achievements is also chief editor of the All Russian Federation of the Deaf monthly magazine VES. At the dinner, he told the rabbi: “Thank you for making me feel Jewish.”
The rabbi greets Misha Shushpannikov before the start of Shabbat. (Photo: Anna Volkova)
Yakovlev wrapping tefillin. Soudakoff knows him from camps Gan Yisroel Moscow and L'man Achai.
The rabbi helps Russian Deaf historian Victor Palenny put on tefillin.
Minnesota native David Nathanson, who's on the U.S. curling team, gets some shmurah matzah for Passover.
Rafael Pinchasov breaks for matzah at a hockey game, while he displays a book on the history of the Deaflympics.
Eight boxes of kosher food for the Shabbat dinner and Jewish athletes were sent from Chabad-Lubavitch Tyumen, Russia; two more containing matzah and Passover wine came from Moscow.
© Copyright 2015, all rights reserved.
Jewish News
Passover Provisions for Thousands in U.S. Military, At Home and Abroad
By Faygie Levy
A group of servicemen and women get ready for a Passover seder. Shmurah matzah, Haggadahs, grape juice and the necessary items on the seder plate were shipped to them by the Aleph Institute. (Photo: The Aleph Institute)
Long before most people are even thinking about doing their Passover preparations, the staff at the Aleph Institute in Surfside, Fla., is busy organizing, packing and shipping boxes of Passover products to Jewish servicemen and women in the U.S. Armed Forces.
“We send out to about 1,000 members total,” says the Aleph Institute’s Rabbi Menachem Katz, director of outreach programs for the Chabad-Lubavitch organization that provides for the spiritual and physical needs of Jewish soldiers and prisoners—and their families. “Many of them are overseas. We’ve sent packages to Afghanistan, Kuwait, Iraq, Qatar, Germany, Honduras, Korea and Japan.
“And, sometimes,” he continues, “we don’t know there they are going because we are sending them to a U.S. Naval ship. A lot of it gets shipped at least a month before Passover because some of the packages go onto ships that only get deliveries once a month or every few weeks.”
Surprisingly, while there is plenty of food to prepare and ship for Passover, the number of servicemen and women receiving holiday packages is actually smaller than it is for other holidays like Purim or Chanukah. According to Katz, “the military is more on top of Passover than other [Jewish] holidays.”
Still, Aleph makes it a priority to send boxes full of shmurah matzah, grape juice, Haggadahs and all the items found on a seder plate, including “shelf-stable, hard-boiled eggs that we manufacture special,” a zeroah (chicken neck), horseradish for maror (bitter herbs) and charoset (symbolic of the mortar and brick used by Israelite slaves in Egypt).
Some also receive soup cubes, macaroons and other kosher-for-Passover fare.
Displaying Passover products received. (Photo: The Aleph Institute)
The only thing the Aleph Institute doesn’t provide is lettuce “because that would arrive flat,” says Katz.
For the chaplains and Jewish military lay leaders who receive the Passover packages, the contents truly make a difference.
As Navy reservist Mark Blumstein wrote in a letter to Katz: “I am ... in receipt of all the Passover supplies sent to me by Aleph for which I am most grateful. I am identifying Jewish soldiers and planning a base-wide seder; none of which would be possible without your package.”
In a direct response, he also noted that “it is very important to receive these products, given the remoteness of the camp that we are deployed to in East Africa. As a result, service members will be able to properly celebrate Pesach in a country devoid of such supplies.”
Blumstein adds that without such provisions, “Jewish service members are left to their own devices to find supplies necessary to celebrate Jewish holidays in an expeditionary environment. It makes me feel secure to know that organizations like Aleph exist to support the religious needs of Jews around the world in service of their country.”
Almost like home: Two Jewish servicemen get ready for their seder. (Photo: The Aleph Institute)
‘Everything They Need’
The Florida-based organization began offering Passover kits on a small scale back in 1995 and began major distribution after the Sept. 11 terror attacks in 2001. In doing so, states Katz, they were simply following in the footsteps of the Lubavitcher Rebbe—Rabbi Menachem M. Schneerson, of righteous memory.
“I know firsthand from individual chaplains in the military and the Lubavitchers involved that the Rebbe made it his business to make sure that chaplains had shmurah matzah for Pesach,” he says.
Because of the enormity of the undertaking—some 3,000 pounds of matzah and 2,800 bottles of grape juice are shipped before Passover—Aleph actually does all the packing and shipping from a warehouse in New Jersey. The location not only gives them ample space to keep their operation moving smoothly, it also provides easy access to the plethora of kosher foodstuffs available in the New York markets.
But it isn’t just military personnel and their families who benefit from Aleph’s offerings.
Between 3,000 and 4,000 Jewish inmates across the country will receive everything they need for Passover from the Aleph Institute as well.
“We provide not only shmurah matzah, but a lot more than we even provide for the military,” responds Katz. “Macaroons, gefilte fish, soup and nuts; they wouldn’t get it without us. Some wouldn’t have a seder without us.”
Putting the required three matzahs used for the seder into the matzah bag. (Photo: The Aleph Institute)
Looking over the Haggadahs before the seder starts for military personnel. (Photo: The Aleph Institute)
© Copyright 2015, all rights reserved.
Chabad.org Magazine - Editor: Yanki Tauber
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