Missionary Renegade: Chabad Magazine "Why Michael From Siberia Cried on Shavuot" for Tuesday, Sivan 8, 5775

Tuesday, May 26, 2015

Chabad Magazine "Why Michael From Siberia Cried on Shavuot" for Tuesday, Sivan 8, 5775 · May 26, 2015

Editor's Note:

Dear Friend,

We just celebrated Shavuot, when our nation accepted the Torah from G‑d. What do you think they did the morning after Shavuot? Chances are they began studying and parsing the words they heard from G‑d and Moses, searching for nuggets of meaning they could apply to their lives. It’s also likely they shared their insights with each other, helping each and every member of Israel achieve an understanding of G‑d’s blueprint for life.

Now is a most appropriate time for us to recognize some of the dedicated teachers who share their knowledge and understanding of Torah on a regular basis on Jewish.tv—some almost each and every day.

Should you wish to prepare for your prayers with some deep chassidic insights, you need to look no further than the classes of Dr. Yaakov Brawerand Rabbi Shmuel Kaplan. Looking to split some Talmudic hairs? RabbisBinyomin Bitton and Avraham Meyer Zajac are presenting Talmud classes regularly. If it’s a fresh insight on the weekly Torah portion, Rabbis Moishe New and Aaron L. Raskin have you more than covered. And if you need a little help with your daily study, Rabbis Yehoshua B. Gordon, Mendel Kaplanand Ronnie Fine have classes to suit all tastes and speeds. For those looking to brush up their knowledge of Jewish law, we are pleased to present the lessons of Rabbis Yosef Shusterman and Elimelech Silberberg. And for those looking for a young and uniquely feminine perspective, we stream classes byShifra Sharfstein.

These Jewish.tv presenters are all volunteers, and our virtual hats go off to them for their amazing dedication. Thank you!

Please use the comments section to share who your favorite Jewish.tv lecturers are (of course we could not possibly mention everyone) and what their teachings mean to you.

Shmuel Lifshitz,

on behalf of the Chabad.org Editorial Team

Click here to show appreciation to your favorite presenter »

Tuned In

There is a common misconception that the good things in life come from being in the right place at the right time. In truth, everything that is good comes from being on the right channel with the right reception.

This is what the sages call z’chut—sometimes translated as “merit.” What it really means is a kind of fine-tuning of the soul.

How do you fine-tune the soul? You have three knobs: What you do, what you say and what you think. Adjust them carefully for static-clean reception.[12 Tammuz 5732:8.]

This Week's Features Printable Magazine:

I Just Discovered I’m Jewish!What do I do now? by Tzvi Freeman

Dear Rabbi,

Sometimes life hits you in the face with a cold, wet towel. Last week, I visited my mother in the hospital, and she told me that she’s Jewish. I asked why she had never told me before, but she didn’t want to say. But she told me about her parents who were Holocaust survivors. It was pretty clear she wasn’t making this up.

I talked with a Jewish friend about it, and he said that if my mother is Jewish, that makes me Jewish too.

The truth is, most of my friends are Jewish. And I always took an interest in all things Jewish. But being Jewish? If I’m Jewish too, I better find out what that means. Where do I start?

—New Jew That Never Knew

Dear Jew,

Funny thing, nobody is ever shocked by the discovery that their mother is Korean. Funny thing, nobody is ever shocked by the discovery that their mother is Inuit.Or Slovakian. Or even Inuit—although that would be pretty interesting.

On the other hand, suddenly discovering that you’re Muslim, Bahai or Buddhist is not even a possibility. Those are religions, and if you don’t believe, in what way are you a member? But it happens quite often that someone wakes up one day to discover, hey, I’m Jewish.

So there’s something unique in that. And I suppose that’s really what you’re asking: What’s unique about being a Jew that you can discover you are Jewish, not out of belief or affiliation, choice or inclination, upbringing or community? It's so strange: You can discover you are Jewish just because your mother one day says, “Guess what? I’m Jewish, so you are too.” (Of course, you’ll need some credible evidence that this is for real.)

The answer is that we Jews are one big family, all brothers and sisters, all children of Abraham and Sarah, Isaac and Rebecca, Jacob and Rachel and Leah. If your mother is Jewish, you’re part of that family. (If it’s your dad, but not your mother, or if it’s your mother’s father, but not her mother, see To the Child of a Jewish Father.)

And you’ll say, “Yes, but all of humanity is one big family.” So I’ll answer that Jews are a family held together with super glue. Divine super glue that lasts forever. We are eternally bonded by an eternal covenant and a common mission that our ancestors accepted at Mount Sinai.

The covenant Jews are a family held together with divine, everlasting super glue.is with the Creator of Heaven and Earth, who liberated us from the oppression of our taskmasters to fulfill His will with love and joy so that we will inherit the Land of Israel in peace. The mission is to be a light to all the nations of the world, so that they too will learn to fulfill their role in filling this entire world with freedom, peace and harmony, as its Creator designed it to be. That covenant and that mission melds us together as a single being, many bodies with one soul.

Both the covenant and the mission are embodied in the Five Books of Moses and the rest of the Hebrew Bible, along with an enormous body of commentary and discussion composed over many millennia—all of which we call Torah, which means “the teaching.” The Torah teaches us how to live in a divine way here on earth, in every time and in every situation. A deed prescribed by the Torah is called a mitzvah. The practical instructions are called halachah—which means “the way.” And all this works together to hold our global family together over space and time.

Almost 4,000 years have passed since Abraham, the first Jew, began to teach the world that G‑d cares for His world and its creatures. Over 3,300 years have passed since Abraham’s children entered into a covenant at Mount Sinai.

Since then, the Jewish people have made an immeasurable impact on the way people think about themselves and about our world, igniting the human spark with ideas that were once radical and revolutionary but now are almost universally embraced. For example:

the notion of liberty (think Exodus),
a vision of world peace (think of the U.N. wall with the quotation from Isaiah, “. . . and they will beat their swords into plowshares”),
the sanctity of all human life without discrimination,
the right of the common man to his own property,
the need to educate every child,
equal rights for all before the law,
the supremacy of the law over the monarchy,
government-mandated social welfare,
tolerance of the foreigner who does not share your religion,
. . . and the concept of progress over time—one that leads to a world filled with an awareness of the divine “as water fills the ocean bed”—may that time arrive much sooner than we can imagine.

We brought these ideas to the world not by the sword and not by threat of force, but by example and by perseverance through the greatest hardships, so that they seeped through many streams and wellsprings into the beliefs of other peoples, until those peoples came to adopt them as their own.

Let me put it this way: Other peoples are defined by their geography. We, the Jewish people, are defined by the Torah and its story of us—the story of our forefathers, of our exodus from Egypt, of our entry into the covenant, our sojourn in the wilderness, our settling of the land of Canaan, our exiles and travails and dispersion throughout the world; of never-ending study of our Torah and of our own story, until we and the Torah that defines us have become one, just as we and our story are one. As an Italian is Italian because he was born in Italy, so a Jew is a Jew because he or she was born into a story.As an Italian is Italian because he was born in Italy, so a Jew is a Jew because he or she was born into a story (or entered into it by adoption into the family, through a rite of conversion).

We reclaim that terrain as we traverse its gamut in the Torah we study and in the prayers we utter daily, and within those vast borders we discover who we are: a tree of life that cannot be consumed by the most furious fires of history, a light in the darkness that cannot be extinguished by the most incessant and formidable waves of change, because we are tied in an inexorable bond to our divine mission.

So that is us, and you are one of us, and wherever you go, anywhere in the world, you will be one of our family. You can walk into any synagogue or Jewish community center and say, “Hello, I just discovered I’m Jewish,” and you will be embraced as a long-lost sibling.

Which is what I suggest you do right now. You can use ourlocator to find the closest Chabad center to wherever it is in the world you live. If there is none nearby, just search around for the closest traditional Jewish community. Join and celebrate our festivals with us, rest and enjoy a Shabbat meal with us—because our celebrations are your celebration, and our Shabbat is your Shabbat.

When you’re adopting Jewish practices, you’ll need to do that step by step. It’s not an all-or-nothing proposition. A good place to start is with any of the ten mitzvahs of the mitzvah campaign initiated by the Rebbe, Rabbi Menachem M. Schneerson, of blessed memory.

And learn. You may not find yourself agreeing with everything you learn, but that shouldn’t stop you from studying and questioning and studying more. Because it is that study and dialogue over our Torah that, more than anything else, has bonded us together in our common destiny over these many millennia. And it is there, within that Torah that G‑d has given us, that we discover ourselves as one eternal being.

Related: How I Discovered I Was Jewish

Rabbi Tzvi Freeman, a senior editor at Chabad.org, also heads our Ask The Rabbi team. He is the author of Bringing Heaven Down to Earth. To subscribe to regular updates of Rabbi Freeman's writing, visit Freeman Files subscription.

Why Celebrate Shabbat?

Lighting Shabbat candles, resting and rejuvenating on Shabbat are critical to Jewish living.

By Dov Greenberg

Watch (4:55)

More in Parshah:

• Earthen Vessel (Based on the teachings of the Lubavitcher Rebbe)

G‑d spoke to Moses, saying: A man whose wife shall stray and commit a betrayal against him . . . that man shall bring his wife to the kohen. . . . The kohen shall take holy water in an earthen vessel . . .Numbers 5:11–23

Life, as described by the Kabbalists, is a marriage of body and soul. The soul—the active, vital force in the relationship—is its “male” component. The body—the vessel that receives the soul, and channels and focuses its energies—is the “female” element in the relationship.

Common wisdom has it that spirit is loftier than matter, and the soul superior to the body. Indeed, the soul of man maintains a perpetual awareness of its Creator and Source, while the body, susceptible to the enticements of the material, is often the culprit in man’s tendency to forget, stray and betray.

But this is a “male” vision of life. There also exists another perspective on reality—a perspective in which passivity is superior to activity, being is greater than doing, and earthiness is truer than abstraction. A perspective in which the body is not no more than at best a servant of the soul (and at worst its antagonist), but is itself a matrix of the divine.

Our sages tell us that there will come a time when the supremacy of the female will come to light. A time when the physical will equal and surpass the spiritual as a vehicle of connection to G‑d. A time when “the soul shall draw its nourishment from the body.”

Therein lies the deeper significance of the laws of the sotah (the “wayward wife”) legislated in the fifth chapter of Numbers.

The law of the sotah dictates that a man who suspects his wife of unfaithfulness (and has evidence that substantiates his suspicions) should bring her to the Holy Temple in Jerusalem. There a kohen (priest) fills an earthen vessel with water from the Temple laver, and mixes in earth from the Temple ground. He then inscribes the oath of faithfulness (Numbers 5:19–22) upon a parchment scroll, which he also places in the “bitter waters” until the words dissolve in the water. The “wayward wife” then drinks of the water.

If the woman is indeed guilty of adultery, the “bitter waters” would spell her end. If her husband’s suspicions were unjustified, the waters would not only exonerate her but would actually enhance her relationship with her husband and the productivity of their marriage.

It is significant that the “wayward wife” was vindicated by means of holy water placed in an earthen vessel. This is in contrast to a law regarding the kindling of the Chanukah lights which instructs that one should avoid kindling them in a clay lamp or other earthen vessel, as the placement of oil in such utensils yields unaesthetic results. Indeed, the lights in the Holy Temple, after which the Chanukah lights are modeled, were lit with the finest olive oil in a candelabrum of pure gold. While the Chanukah lights are not held to such a high standard of purity and refinement, they ideally should use a clean-burning fuel (oil or wax), and require a utensil of metal or other “clean” material.

The Chanukah lights proclaim the supremacy of spirit over matter. This is expressed in oil, whose nature is not to mix with other liquids but to rise above them, as spirit holds itself aloof from the physical and the earthly. It is only natural that something of such a “spiritual” and “male” character would shun the earthen vessel.

But there is also a fluid of another sort. “The Torah has been compared to water,” writes Rabbi Schneur Zalman of Liadi in his Tanya, “because just as water tends to descend from a higher place to a lower place, so has the Torah descended from its place of glory, which is the will and wisdom of G‑d . . . until it has clothed itself in physical things and in matters of this world.”

When a soul contemplates his body and finds her a “wayward wife” contentious to his spiritual goals, his wont may be to lay the blame on her femininity, on her physicality and earthiness. But if he truly desires to achieve harmony between them, he must learn to incorporate her feminine vision into their marriage. He must learn that life is more than spiritual oil flickering in vessels of purest gold. He must learn that it is also water—water that gravitates earthward to fill the most material containers with its divine essence.

Based on the teachings of the Lubavitcher Rebbe, Rabbi Menachem Mendel Schneerson; adapted by Yanki Tauber.

Originally published in Week in Review.

Republished with the permission of MeaningfulLife.com. If you wish to republish this article in a periodical, book, or website, please email permissions@meaningfullife.com.

Illustrations by Chassidic artist Michoel Muchnik.

• Learn the Parshah In Depth

Numbers 4:21-7:89

Parshah Summary

he Parshah of Naso opens with G‑d’s instruction to Moses to “raise the heads” (the Torah’s idiom for “take a count”) of the Levite families of Gershon, who were charged with the task of transporting the doorway curtains, tent coverings and tapestries of the Tabernacle (the portable Sanctuary which the children of Israel erected in their encampments in the desert). The Gershonites were one of the three Levite clans, which carried the names of Levi’s three sons: Gershon, Kohath and Merari.

The previous Parshah of Bamidbar recorded the figures for the census taken of all Levite males from the age of one month and up (altogether, they numbered 22,300). In Naso a second count is taken, of those who will be doing the actual work of transporting the Sanctuary—the Levite men between the ages of 30 and 50.

The results of this census were: Kohath—2,750; Gershon—2,630; Merari—3,200. Total of the Levite “workforce”: 8,580.

Having thus concluded its census of the families and tribes of Israel and its designation of their camping places around the Sanctuary, the Torah now commands, “Send out of the camp all who are afflicted with tzaraat, who are contaminated by a bodily discharge, and those contaminated by contact with the dead” until such time as they are cleansed of their ritual impurity.

The Wayward Wife

The sotah is a woman who acts in a way that causes her to be suspected of adultery (i.e., she is warned by her husband regarding her relations with another man, and subsequently secludes herself with that man, before witnesses). The Torah instructs that she be tested with “bitter waters”:

If a man’s wife go astray, and commit a betrayal against him . . . and the spirit of jealousy come upon him . . .

Then shall the man bring his wife to the priest. He shall bring her offering for her, the tenth part of an ephah of barley meal; he shall pour no oil upon it, nor put frankincense on it, for it is an offering of jealousy, an offering bringing iniquity to remembrance . . .

The priest shall take holy water in an earthen vessel; and of the earth that is on the floor of the Tabernacle shall the priest take, and put it into the water.

Then the kohen shall stand the woman up before the L‑rd and expose the [hair on the] head of the woman; he shall place into her hands the remembrance meal offering . . .

The following oath is then administered to the sotah:

“If no man has lain with you and you have not gone astray to become defiled [to another] in place of your husband, then [you will] be absolved through the bitter waters which cause the curse.

“But if you have gone astray to another instead of your husband, and you have been defiled . . . may G‑d make you for a curse and an oath among your people. . . . These curse-bearing waters shall enter your innards, causing the belly to swell and the thigh to rupture.”

The woman shall say: “Amen, amen.”

The oath is then inscribed in a parchment scroll, and the scroll is placed in the “bitter waters” until the writing is erased. The wayward wife is then given the water to drink.

It shall come to pass: if she had been defiled and was unfaithful to her husband, the curse-bearing waters shall enter her to become bitter, and her belly will swell and her thigh will rupture. The woman will be a curse among her people.

But if the woman had not become defiled and she is clean, she shall be exempted and bear seed.

The Nazir

A nazir is a man or woman who, out of a desire to “separate themselves to G‑d,” takes a vow of nezirut (“abstinence”) from certain worldly pleasures and involvements, either for a set period of time or for their entire lifetime. One who takes this vow is forbidden to drink wine, cut his or her hair, or to become tamei (ritually impure) through contact with a dead body—even for a close relative—for the duration of the nezirut.

The prohibition against wine is all-encompassing:

He shall abstain from wine and wine-brandy, and shall drink no vinegar . . . nor shall he drink any beverage of grapes, nor eat grapes, moist or dried. . . . He shall eat nothing that is made of the grapevine, from the seeds to the skin.

At the conclusion of the period of nezirut, the nazir brings a series of offerings—a male lamb as an “ascending offering,” an ewe lamb as a “sin offering,” and a ram as a “peace offering” (for the definitions of the different types of offerings, see summary for the Parshah of Vayikra). The nazir’s hair, which had grown freely throughout the nezirut, is now completely shorn and burnt in the fire beneath the peace offering.

The Priestly Blessing

G‑d spoke to Moses, saying:

Speak to Aaron and to his sons, saying: Thus shall you bless the children of Israel; say to them:

“May G‑d bless you and keep you. May G‑d make His face shine upon you, and give you grace. May G‑d lift up His face to you and give you peace.”

They shall set My name upon the children of Israel; and I will bless them.

Wagons and Oxen

The Torah now resumes its account (which it left off in the 10th chapter of Leviticus, back in the Parshah of Shemini) of the dedication of the Sanctuary on the first of Nissan, one year (minus two weeks) after the Exodus.

It came to pass on the day that Moses had finished setting up the Tabernacle, and had anointed and sanctified it, and all its vessels, and the altar and all its vessels . . .

The nesi’im of Israel, heads of the house of their fathers, who were the princes of the tribes . . . approached; and they brought their offering before G‑d.

The first gift brought by the tribal heads was “six covered wagons and twelve oxen, a wagon for each two nesi’im, and an ox for each one.” G‑d instructs Moses to accept this gift, and that the wagons and oxen should be used by the Levites to transport the Sanctuary.

Two wagons and four oxen were given to the Gershonites, who transported the Sanctuary’s tent coverings and tapestries. The remaining four wagons and eight oxen were given to the Levite families of Merari, who transported the Sanctuary’s 48 wall panels, 165 foundation sockets, 69 posts and other structural components. “But to the sons of Kohath he gave none, because the service of the most holy belonged to them: they bore [the Sanctuary’s vessels] on their shoulders.”

Twelve Times Thirty-Five

In addition, each nasi brought a separate offering of his own as “a dedication of the altar.” Regarding these offerings, G‑d instructed: “One nasi each day, one nasi each day, shall bring near his offering for the dedication of the altar.”

He that offered his offering the first day was Nachshon the son of Aminadav, of the tribe of Judah.

His offering was: One silver dish, the weight of which was a hundred and thirty shekels, and one silver bowl of seventy shekels, after the shekel of the sanctuary; both of them were full of fine flour mingled with oil for a meal offering. One spoon of ten shekels of gold, full of incense. One young bullock, one ram, one yearling lamb, for a burnt offering. One kid of the goats for a sin offering. And for a sacrifice of peace offerings: two oxen, five rams, five he-goats, five lambs of the first year. This was the offering of Nachshon the son of Aminadav.

The same gift was brought the next day, by Nethanel the son of Zuar, prince of the tribe of Issachar:

One silver dish, the weight of which was a hundred and thirty shekels, and one silver bowl of seventy shekels, after the shekel of the sanctuary; both of them were full of fine flour mingled with oil for a meal offering. One spoon of ten shekels of gold, full of incense. One young bullock, one ram, one yearling lamb, for a burnt offering. One kid of the goats for a sin offering. And for a sacrifice of peace offerings: two oxen, five rams, five he-goats, five lambs of the first year. This was the offering of Nethanel the son of Zuar.

The Torah then proceeds to itemize each tribe’s gift separately, although each nasi brought the very same 35 items as his offering.

After listing the twelve tribes’ offerings on the first twelve days of Nissan, the Torah summarizes:

This was the dedication of the altar, on the day when it was anointed, by the princes of Israel: twelve dishes of silver, twelve silver bowls, twelve spoons of gold. . . . All the silver vessels weighed two thousand four hundred shekels. . . . All the gold of the spoons was a hundred and twenty shekels.

All the oxen for the burnt offerings were twelve bullocks, the rams twelve, the yearling lambs twelve, with their meal offering. The kids of the goats for sin offerings, twelve. And all the oxen for the sacrifice of the peace offerings were twenty-four bullocks, the rams sixty, the he-goats sixty, the yearling lambs sixty.

“When Moses would go into the Tent of Meeting to speak with Him, then he heard the voice speaking to him from off the covering that was upon the Ark of Testimony, from between the two cherubim; and it spoke to him.”

From Our Sages

f a man’s wife goes astray (5:12)

A person does not sin unless a spirit of folly enters into him. (The word the Torah uses for the sotah’s “going astray,” shtut, also means “folly” and “insanity.”)

(Talmud, Sotah 3a)

He shall bring her offering for her, the tenth part of an ephah of barley meal (5:15)

She acted like an animal; therefore her offering is of animal feed.

(Talmud, Sotah 14b)

Every Jew, whether righteous or wicked, has two souls. . . . One soul . . . clothes itself in the person’s blood to animate the body [and is the source of its egocentric drives and desires] . . . and the second soul of a Jew is literally a part of G‑d above [and is the source of the person’s striving to unite with G‑d] . . .

The body is called a “small city”: as two kings wage war over a city, each wishing to capture it and rule over it—that is to say, to govern its inhabitants according to his will, so that they obey him in all that he decrees for them—so do the two souls (the G‑dly [soul] and the vitalizing animal [soul] that derives from kelipah) wage war against each other over the body and all its organs and limbs.

The desire and will of the G‑dly soul is that it alone should rule over the person and direct him, and that all his limbs should obey it and surrender themselves completely to it and become a vehicle for it, and serve as a vehicle for its ten faculties [of intellect and emotion] and three “garments” [thought, speech and action] . . . and the entire body should be permeated with them alone, to the exclusion of any alien influence, G‑d forbid. . . . While the animal soul desires the very opposite . . .

(Tanya)

The priest shall write these oaths in a scroll, and he shall blot them out with the bitter water (5:23)

Great is peace! To make peace between husband and wife, the Torah instructs that the name of G‑d, written in holiness, should be blotted out in water. (The text of the oath administered to the sotah included the divine name.)

(Talmud, Chullin 141a)

It shall come to pass: if the woman had been defiled . . . her belly will swell and her thigh will rupture (5:27)

Just as the waters test her, they also test him (i.e., if she is guilty, the same happens to the adulterer).

(Talmud, Sotah 27b)

But if the woman had not become defiled, and she is clean, she shall be exempted and bear seed (5:28)

G‑d compensates her for her humiliation. If she was barren, she will now conceive; if she gave birth painfully, she will now give birth with ease; if she used to give birth to unattractive children, she will now give birth to beautiful children . . .

(Jerusalem Talmud, Sotah 3:4)

He shall eat nothing that is made of the grapevine, from the seeds to the skin (6:4)

Though a vine is supported by straight reeds and forked reeds, it cannot stand up under the weight of the wine in the grapes. So if wine’s own mother cannot bear its burden, how then can you?

(Midrash Rabbah)

When Noah took to planting, Satan came and stood before him and said to him: “What are you planting?” Said he: “A vineyard.” Said Satan to him: “What is its nature?” Said he: “Its fruits are sweet, whether moist or dry, and one makes from them wine, which brings joy to the heart.” Said Satan to Noah: “Do you desire that we should plant it together, you and I?” Said Noah: “Yes.”

What did Satan do? He brought a lamb and slaughtered it over the vine; then he brought a lion and slaughtered it over it; then he brought a monkey, and slaughtered it over it; then he brought a swine and slaughtered it over it; and he watered the vine with their blood. Thus he alluded to Noah: When a person drinks one cup, he is like a lamb, modest and meek. When he drinks two cups, he becomes mighty as a lion and begins to speak with pride, saying: Who compares with me! As soon as he drinks three or four cups he becomes a monkey, dancing and frolicking and profaning his mouth, and knowing not what he does. When he becomes drunk he becomes a pig, dirtied by mud and wallowing in filth.

(Midrash Tanchuma)

And he shall make atonement for him, for that he sinned by his soul (6:11)

Whoever fasts is termed a sinner. . . . For it has been taught: . . . What is the Torah referring to when it says, “And make atonement for him, for that he sinned by his soul”? Against which soul did he sin? That he denied himself wine. Now, if this man who denied himself wine only is termed “a sinner,” how much more so he who denies himself the enjoyment of ever so many things!

Rabbi Eleazar says: He is termed holy. For it is written (ibid., v. 5), “He shall be holy; he shall let the locks of the hair of his head grow long.” Now, if this man who denied himself wine only is termed “holy,” how much more so he who denies himself the enjoyment of ever so many things!

(Talmud, Taanit 11a)

Shimon Hatzaddik said: In the whole of my life, I never ate of the guilt-offering of a nazir, except in one instance. There was a man who came to me from the south. He had beautiful eyes and handsome features, with his locks heaped into curls. I asked him: “Why, my son, did you resolve to destroy such beautiful hair?” He answered: “In my native town I was my father’s shepherd, and on going down to draw water from the well I saw my reflection [in its waters]. My heart leaped within me and my evil inclination assailed me, seeking to compass my ruin, and so I said to it: ‘Evil one! Why do you plume yourself over a world that is not your own? For your end is but worms and maggots. I swear that I shall shear these locks to the glory of Heaven!” Then I rose and kissed him upon his head and said to him: “May there be many nazirites such as you in Israel. Of one such as yourself does the verse (Numbers 6:2) say: ‘A man or a woman who shall pronounce a special vow of a nazir, to consecrate themselves to G‑d.’”

(Talmud, Nazir 4b; Sifri)

This is the law of the nazir on the day that the days of his abstention are completed . . . (6:13)

Why does the Torah section dealing with the laws of the nazir follow immediately after the section dealing with the laws of the sotah? To tell you that whoever sees a sotah’s ruin should forswear wine.

(Rashi)

Once, in the early days of Chassidism, a learned Jew happened upon a farbrengen (a chassidic gathering). Taking in the sight of half-empty vodka bottles on the table, of Jews singing and dancing instead of studying Torah, he cried: “Jews! The Holy Temple is in ruins, Israel is in exile, and you dance and drink?!”

Present at the farbrengen was Rabbi Dovid Purkes, a senior disciple of the Baal Shem Tov. “I have a question for you,” said Rabbi Dovid to the visitor. “In one place, Rashi writes that a nazir’s vow to abstain from wine is an appropriate reaction for one who witnesses human susceptibility to corruption by physical appetites. But only a few verses later, Rashi quotes the Talmudic opinion which regards the nazir’s abstinence as a sin. Which is it? Is drinking wine a positive or a negative thing to do?

“I’ll tell you the difference between the two cases,” continued Rabbi Dovid. “The first statement by Rashi is addressed to one who ‘sees a sotah’s ruin.’ A person who is capable of seeing the negative in a fellow Jew had better not drink wine. Wine will agitate his heart, and he’ll probably be roused to discover more failings and deficiencies in his fellows. But someone who is blessed with the ability to see only the good in his fellow—for him to avoid getting together with other Jews for a l’chaim is nothing less than sinful. An infusion of wine into his heart will stimulate it to uncover the hidden good in the hearts of his fellows.”

(Reshimot Devarim)

May G‑d bless you and keep you (6:24)

With G‑d’s blessing comes His protection of the blessing. A mortal king has a servant in Syria, while he himself lives in Rome. The king sends for him. He sets out and comes to him. He gives him a hundred pounds of gold. He packs it up and sets out on his journey. Robbers fall upon him and take away all that he had given him and all that he had with him. . . . But when G‑d blesses one with riches, He also guards them from robbers.

(Midrash Rabbah)

May G‑d make His face shine upon you, and give you grace (6:25)

He will give you the wisdom to be gracious to each other and merciful to each other.

(Midrash Rabbah)

May G‑d lift up His face to you (6:26)

He will turn His face towards you, for it is not the same thing for a man to greet his neighbor while looking him in the face as to greet him with his head turned to one side.

(Midrash Rabbah)

. . . and give you peace (6:26)

If there is no peace, there is nothing.

(Torat Kohanim)

They shall set My name upon the children of Israel; and I will bless them (6:27)

I would have thought that if the kohanim desire to bless Israel, then Israel is blessed, but if they do not, they are not; therefore the verse tells me: “I will bless them.” In either case, says G‑d, I will bless them from heaven.

The kohanim bless Israel, but who blesses the kohanim? Therefore the verse tells me: “I will bless them.”

(Sifri Zuta)

The one who offered his offering on the first day was Nachshon the son of Aminadav, of the tribe of Judah. And his offering was: One silver dish, weighing 130 shekels. One silver bowl of 70 shekels . . . On the second day offered Nethanel the son of Zuar, of the tribe of Issachar. His offering was: One silver dish, weighing 130 shekels. One silver bowl of 70 shekels . . . (7:12–23)

The Torah is very mincing with words: many a complex chapter of Torah law is derived from a choice of context, a turn of language, even an extra letter. Yet in our Parshah, the Torah seemingly “squanders” dozens of verses by itemizing the gifts brought by the leaders of the twelve tribes of Israel on the occasion of the inauguration of the Sanctuary. Each tribe brought its offering on a different day, but the gifts they each brought were identical in every respect, down to the weight of the silver plates and the age of the five lambs. Nevertheless, the Torah recounts each tribe’s gift separately, repeating the 35-item list twelve times in succession.

The Midrash (Bamidbar Rabbah 13 & 14) explains that while the twelve tribes made identical offerings, each experienced the event in a different manner. Each of the 35 items in the offering symbolized something—a personality or event in Jewish history, or a concept in Jewish faith or practice—but to each tribe they symbolized different things, relating to that tribe’s role. For the twelve tribes represent the various vocations amongst the people of Israel: Judah produced Israel’s kings, leaders and legislators; Issachar its scholars; Zebulun its seafarers and merchants; and so on. All conform to the same divinely ordained guidelines, all order their lives by the same Torah; yet each flavors the very same deeds with his individual nature and approach.

Often we tend to see a tension between conformity and creativity, between tradition and innovation. On the one hand, we recognize the bedrock of absolutes upon which a meaningful existence must rest, the time-tested truths which transcend cultures and generations; on the other, we are faced with the powerful drive to create, to personalize, to grow and soar with our individualized talents and tools.

Our daily prayers, for example, follow the basic text instituted by the prophets and sages of the Great Assembly more than 2,300 years ago; as such, their content and wording optimally express the manner in which man relates to G‑d. Yet how is the individual in man to be satisfied with a common formula for every person?

Is monotony the price we must pay for perfection? Does creativity compromise truth? Not so, say the 72 “repetitious” verses in our Parshah. An entire nation, including individuals of every conceivable character and calling, can do the very same deed, down to every last detail, and still imbue them with their uniquely personal input. Even as they relate to the ultimate common denominator of their bond with G‑d, they each bring to the experience the richness of their own creative souls.

(The Lubavitcher Rebbe)

When Moses would enter the Sanctuary to speak with [G‑d], he would hear the voice speaking to him from above the cover of the Ark of Testimony . . . and it spoke to him (7:89)

One might think that this (the fact that only Moses heard the voice of G‑d) was because the voice was low. So the verse stresses that it was the voice—the same voice that spoke to him at Sinai. But when it reached the doorway it stopped, and did not extend outside of the Sanctuary.

(Rashi)

A basic tenet of the Jewish faith is that man has been granted the freedom to choose between good and evil, between adherence to his divinely ordained mission in life and rebellion against, or even denial of, his Creator. As Maimonides writes, “Were G‑d to decree that a person be righteous or wicked, of if there were to exist something in the essence of a person’s nature which would compel him toward a specific path, a specific conviction, a specific character trait or a specific deed . . . how could G‑d command us through the prophets, ‘Do this’ and ‘do not do this’ . . . ? What place would the entire Torah have? And by what measure of justice would G-d punish the wicked and reward the righteous . . . ?”

This is the deeper significance of the “short stop” made by the divine voice at the doorway of the Sanctuary. At Sinai, the words “I am G‑d your G‑d” resounded throughout the universe, permeating every creature and creation. At that moment, there was no possibility of doubt of G‑d’s reality, or of nonconformity to His will. But then the world fell silent, and the voice retreated to hover over the “Ark of Testimony” that contains G‑d’s Torah and to confine itself to the four walls of the Sanctuary that houses it.

The volume was not lowered—the voice is no less infinite and omnipotent than it was at Sinai. One who enters the Sanctuary hears a voice that penetrates and permeates all, a voice that knows no bounds or equivocations. But one can choose to remain outside of the domain of Torah, to deny himself the knowledge and the way of life in which G‑d makes Himself heard. One can choose to remain outside, in the field of G‑d’s self-imposed silence.

It is this choice that creates the challenge of life, making our every moral victory a true and significant achievement.

(The Lubavitcher Rebbe)

Jewish News
Why Michael From Siberia Cried on Shavuot
By Yerachmiel Gorelik

Mussie and Michael with Michael's new "Torah."
It was Shavuot morning. Our synagogue in Tyumen, Siberia, was filled with men, women and many children who had all gathered to hear the reading of the Ten Commandments during the services.
After a lavish dairy Kiddush lunch, we began drawing raffles (in a way permitted on the Jewish holiday) for all the children there. We made sure to get lots of prizes in advance, so that each one would get something. Some kids wound up with small games; others received a book of Psalms, a prayerbook or other books.
Finally, there were just two prizes left—the big ones the kids had been eyeing with hope: a scooter and a pair of roller blades.
We pulled out the last two tickets. Daniel became the proud owner of a scooter, and Roma—who’d come to the synagogue for the very first time—received the roller blades.
As the children gathered in groups to admire their new items, I noticed that one boy was not joining in the fun. Five-year-old Michael was off in a corner, crying. I assumed that he might have been envious of his brother, Daniel, who had just won the scooter.
It was only after everyone had left that one of our teachers revealed the situation.
“Since Passover,” she explained, “Michael’s been learning about Shavuot, which comes after 49 days of counting the Omer. Every day, he eagerly added another sticker to the chart hanging on his classroom wall, preparing to the day when G‑d Himself would give His people a special gift—the Torah.”
Finally, the big day arrived, and there in the synagogue were stacks of prizes, including Torah books. As the raffle progressed, he waited with anticipation for “his” Torah to be given to him. When the raffle ended and all he had was a game in his hand, he burst out crying. Disappointed, he refused to participate in the rest of the program.
As we walked home from services with our children, my wife, Sterni, and I marveled at this young boy’s sincerity.
Suddenly, our reverie was broken by our 6-year-old daughter, Mussie, who’d won a Russian volume of Kitzur Shuchan Aruch (“Code of Jewish Law”).
“Ima, Abba,” she began. “You know what? I want to give my prize to Michael. I already have a Hebrew Kitzur Shulchan Aruch at home, and I don’t really need another one in Russian.”
This morning, as soon as they arrived at kindergarten, Mussia handed Michael his new book. The joy on his little face was indescribable.
Michael had received the Torah.
Rabbi Yerachmiel Gorelik directs Chabad of Tyumen, the oldest Russian settlement in Siberia.
© Copyright 2015, all rights reserved.
Jewish News
‘Eurostars’ Program Shines, Seen in the Effect on Russian Youth Visiting Europe
By Dovid Margolin

Some 500 young Russian Jews and their community leaders pose in Paris with the Eiffel Tower in the background on the third annual “Eurostars” trip to Europe. (Photo: Eli Itkin)
Gliding down the Seine under a soft drizzle, the lone flame of the traditional Havdalah candle seemed to illuminate not just the boat, but the entire “City of Light.” Havdalah is the ceremony marking the end of Shabbat, and for the 500 young Jewish participants who traveled together to Paris, Berlin and the grounds of Auschwitz in Poland as part of Chabad-Lubavitch in Russia’s “Eurostars” program, the burning torch’s symbolism was apt.
Gathered on that boat were young Jews hailing from 24 communities spread throughout the vast Russian steppe, the Jewish spark alive within them visible to all.
“What amazed me most was that this is a new generation of Russian Jews, most of whom were born not under communism, but under freedom,” says Rabbi Berel Lazar, Russia’s chief rabbi and head Chabad-Lubavitch emissary. “When we came here, the Jewish community was limited to older people who remembered their parents and grandparents. Their children were born and raised under Communist ideology, and were for the most part lost to Jewish communal life. This generation is different. They want to learn more, understand more. Looking at them, you can see in each of them potential leaders for Russia’s Jewish community.”
The Parisian boat ride marked the midpoint of a seven-day tour of Europe, which Russian Jews ages 18 to 26 are eligible for after partaking in the eight-month Eurostars Jewish-studies program. Each week participants gather at their local synagogues to study about Judaism, using a curriculum specially created for university-aged students by the Rohr Jewish Learning Institute (JLI). Eurostars is the successor youth program to an older one called “Stars,” and after rebranding and rebooting three years ago, the program has grown to 700 members, drawing from Astrakhan in the Lower Volga region to Khabarovsk on the Chinese border 5,000 miles away.
“When we reflected afterwards, many of them said that the highlight for them was Havdalah under the rain,” says Sara Deutch, co-director of Chabad of Perm, a city of about 1 million people about 880 miles east of Moscow. Deutch led a group of 20 students from her city on this year’s trip, seeing firsthand what her husband had told her about following last year’s trip: “They told me they felt like one people, one nation.”

Rabbi Avi Cassel, director of Olami, an organization that supports a large portion of the trip, eads the Havdalah service after Shabbat, also near the Eiffel Tower area. (Photo: Eli Itkin)
‘Feel a Responsibility’
Although most students wouldn’t partake in a year of Eurostars just for an all-expense-paid trip to Europe, it does serve as an incentive for students to continue attending classes despite their often heavy school or work schedules. But far from it being just an entertaining excursion, participants say the trip itself has a deep and lasting impact on those who go.
“Since we returned, I’ve been getting amazing feedback from emissaries everywhere,” says Rabbi Mendy Wilansky, youth director of the Federation of Jewish Communities of the CIS and Baltic States, Chabad’s umbrella organization in the Russian Federation. “There have been circumcisions, guys who have requested tefillin, girls who pledged to light Shabbat candles. But even more, the trip turns students into ambassadors for Judaism. Seeing so many people their same age who are learning the same thing as them, it has a powerful effect on them. They come back determined to bring even more of their Jewish friends to the program. That’s a big deal.”
When Rabbi Zalman Deutch began participating in Eurostars last year, he had only four students in his group. It was when they returned from the trip that the invigorated young men and women invited their friends to join. This year, they had nearly 25.
“The program itself is very good; the curriculum this year was amazing. But what it accomplishes is not just learning, which is important, but action,” stresses Duetch, who has served as chief rabbi of Perm for the last 13 years. “Last year one boy came back and dedicated himself to growing our group. This year a girl came back and has volunteered to do the same. These are the new leaders of Perm’s Jewish community. It’s important that young people should feel a responsibility over what happens in their community.”

The group stands outside the Hyper Cacher market, which was the site of a terror attack in January that left four Jewish men dead. Rabbi Berel Lazar, Russia’s chief rabbi and head Chabad-Lubavitch emissary, is in the front, second from right; to his left is Rabbi Mendy Wilansky, youth director of the Federation of Jewish Communities of Russia. (Photo: Eli Itkin)
Alongside tourist “must-see” icons like the Eiffel Tower, Pont Neuf and the Louvre, the Eurostars visited the massive Complexe Scolaire Beth Haya Mouchka school system, with its girls’ high school, Beth Hanna, being named top high school in France recently by Le Parisien. They also experienced an inspirational Shabbat filled with prayer, song, food and study. A high point came towards its conclusion, when Lazar hosted a spirited “Ask the Rabbi” session that drew tough questions from an eager crowd.
But as is the case with almost any site in Europe, a visit to Paris would have been incomplete without paying respect to a place of Jewish sacrifice. On Friday, the group gathered at Hyper Cacher, the kosher supermarket where four French Jews were murdered in cold blood by a Muslim terrorist in early January, also on a Friday before the start of Shabbat.
Standing in a semi-circle, the group sang “Ani Ma’amin” (“I Believe”), the Holocaust-era melody expressing belief in the ultimate redemption and coming of Moshiach. It was followed by “Nyet, Nyet Nekovo,” a Russian song exclaiming belief in a one G-d, which served as an inspirational tune for Russian Jewry during the darkest days of the Soviet regime and has, since the fall of communism, become their triumphant anthem.
“The students who came with us were there as proud Jews, wearing yarmulkes and tzitzits, and totally unafraid,” says Lazar, under whose leadership the former Soviet Union has experienced an unprecedented revival. Standing outside the grocery, he addressed the crowd. “I told them that after the attacks in France, people were saying ‘Je Suis Charlie,’ but we have to say ‘Je Suis Kosher.’ We were standing outside of Hyper Cacher; our lives have to be ‘super-kosher.’ It is not enough to stand on a sidewalk in France and be proud of who we are—we have to take that pride back home and live a kosher lifestyle.”

Yosef, from a city 1,000 kilometers away from Tyumen, stands with his bride Sarah in her hometown synagogue in Chelyabinsk. The two met on the trip and are engaged to be married. (Photo: Eli Itkin)
‘She Had Come to See Life’
Like much of the former Soviet Union, intermarriage in Russia is a rapidly growing problem, and the importance of marrying Jewish was a recurring theme on the trip. Lazar explains that today’s young Russian Jews are more often than not the third generation in their family disconnected from Jewish life. Engaging them and articulating the importance of marrying Jewish, he states, is the only chance to ensure Judaism’s survival in Russia.
“One of the biggest accomplishments is the many positive connections that have been made between young Jewish men and women,” says Wilansky. “We constantly hear from young people in various cities that they don’t know any other young Jews. This trip introduced them to hundreds of young Jews in similar stages of life as them, and thank G-d, a number of serious relationships have since been formed.”
But no singles mixer or speed-dating event could have driven the point home more than on the next leg of the group’s trip, at the Auschwitz death camp in southern Poland. There, in the shadow of the crumbling crematoria and gas chambers, amid the screaming silence of death, the group was joined by Breindel Fleishman, a 90-year-old former inmate. It was Fleishman’s first time at Auschwitz since its liberation in 1945.

Outside the Auschwitz death camp in Poland, grandchildren of Holocaust survivor Breindel Fleishman present her with framed photographs of her descendant's families. (Photo: Eli Itkin)
“She initially refused to walk into the gas chambers during the tour,” recalls Wilansky. “She told us that she had already seen death before, and now she had come to see life.”
She had been in the gas chambers once before, mere minutes away from death. It was only due to a technical malfunction that her group of women was led out by Nazi guards and thus spared.
“I have a request for all the young people here,” Fleishman told the hundreds of young Russian Jews who stood surrounding her during a ceremony at the camp. “Establish Jewish families.”
Fleishman’s short but moving speech was followed by representatives of each family of her descendants presenting her with framed photos of their families—some 25 in all.
“After Mrs. Fleishman spoke, everybody sang, and I gave each student from Perm a note written by their mothers,” says Sara Deutch. “It was such a moving moment. You had this woman, this survivor, who had lost everything at that place, surrounded by her extended Jewish family, and all of our students at the same time reading notes written to them by their Jewish mothers telling them how proud they were of them.
“It was an unbelievably powerful moment.”

Marching away from Auschwitz after an emotional visit—a visible sign that Jewish life has overcome a place of death. (Photo: Eli Itkin)

After witnessing the past, walking into the future. (Photo: Eli Itkin)
Goal of Doubling the Numbers
Three years ago, Rabbi Shmuli Stiefel and his wife, Sara, relocated with their three children from New York to Lipetsk, Russia, about a six-hour drive south of Moscow. A rabbi in Lipetsk is still a pretty novel concept and the level of Jewish illiteracy the Stiefels’ encounter is staggering, especially among young people.
“A girl came to the first class this year wearing a cross,” shares Stiefel. “She’s not Christian; she just didn’t know any better. Our job here is to ensure that everyone born a Jew remains a part of the Jewish nation.
Stiefel was on the trip with five young Jews. On Shabbat, a long line formed near the Torah of girls requesting Jewish names, among them one girl from Lipetsk. “Her mother works in our preschool, and on Shabbat in Lipetsk, my wife told her that her daughter is probably going to take a Hebrew name while on the trip. The mother said, ‘I bet it will be Esther. She once went to a Jewish camp and said she wants to be named Esther.’ ”
In a makeshift synagogue in the hall of a Parisian hotel some 2,000 miles away, at the Torah, the girl was named Esther.
“When we came back from the trip, she hadn’t remembered saying about the name,” says Stiefel. “She chose it just because she liked it.”
The Eurostars trip ended with a swing through Berlin, where the group saw Chabad’s work there and heard from Rabbi Yehuda Tiechtel, the city’s head emissary.
While the true impact of Eurostars might never be known, evidence of its success is already building up. One couple—a boy from Tyumen and a girl from Chelyabinsk—announced their engagement this week. A number of circumcisions have been performed as well, welcoming young Jewish men into the covenant of Abraham.
“This is the last strain ... without these young people, the future of Jewish life here would be bleak,” says Lazar. “But we are hopeful because we see that these are young men and women who want to grow; they are proud to be Jewish.
“Hundreds of the students made positive Jewish resolutions on this trip, and we the rabbis did, too. Next year, G-d willing, we will double our numbers. That was our resolution.”

Rabbi Lazar addresses students at a meal in Paris during the first leg of the trip. (Photo: Eli Itkin)
© Copyright 2015, all rights reserved.
Jewish News
A Dying Mother’s Wish Fulfilled: Rabbi Sees Grown Man Become a Bar Mitzvah
By Faygie Levy

Matthew Jurgens became a bar mitzvah this month surrounded by family and friends, an event that took 29 years in the making. (Photo: Avrohom Perl)
As Michele Goldman lay dying of leukemia, she asked a rabbi for a single favor—to make sure that her 2-year-old son, Matthew, would have a bar mitzvah. The then 31-year-old rabbi readily agreed, but it would be another 29 years before that promise could be fulfilled.
On the Jewish holiday of Lag BaOmer on May 7, just weeks before Shavuot—the day G‑d gave the Torah to the Jewish people at Sinai—Matthew Jurgens, 31, stepped forward like the Jewish people did all those years ago and was called to the Torah as a bar mitzvah. He did so surrounded by family, friends and Rabbi Anchelle Perl, co-director of Chabad of Mineola, N.Y.—who had sat with Jurgens’ mother so long ago.
Getting to that point, however, was anything but simple.
Jurgens knew of his mother’s wish and believes she made the request because that would solidify him being raised Jewishly. “That was so important to her,” he said.
As a very young child, Matthew Jurgens celebrated Jewish holidays with his maternal grandparents, Lester (Les) and Barbara Goldman, and his aunt, Sharon Licato, his mother’s younger sister. He even attended Hebrew school for a time.
But his father, stepmother and stepbrother were practicing another faith, and told him that if he ever felt left out of the family, they could arrange for his baptism.
“I was 7 years old. What did I know? I was doing Chanukah with my aunt and Christmas at home,” Jurgens says, adding that he knew his parents only wanted the best for him.
“Eventually, I told my parents that I felt left out.” And so, a year later, Jurgens became a member of the Catholic Church, while still marking Jewish holidays with his mother’s family.
‘Climbing the Ladder’

Jurgens, 31, read part of the service in Hebrew. (Photo: Avrohom Perl)
Jurgens met Rabbi Perl when he was 13, but not for bar mitzvah classes; Jurgens’ beloved grandfather had passed away, and the rabbi was among the mourners. The two talked ever so briefly about a bar mitzvah, but that was about as far as things got.
A year later, as Matthew sat in church on the day of his confirmation, he thought about his mother and what she wanted for him. He said then and there, he realized that being Jewish was his true identity.
By the time he was in college, Jurgens had cemented his return to his Jewish roots, actively engaging in Jewish organizations, learning opportunities and more. Seven years ago, he married a Jewish girl—his high school sweetheart, Lori—and today, they have a 3-year-old daughter, Madeline.
When his aunt Sharon saw Rabbi Perl last year at a bat mitzvah, she put her nephew back in touch with him.
“I met with him,” relates Jurgens, “and he said, ‘What do you think about a bar mitzvah?’ And I told him that I’m in the midst of a doctoral degree in education and supervision; I have a young family at home, a career. Can I really do it, and spend the time necessary to study and learn Hebrew and Torah?”
The rabbi’s response: “Don’t think of this as reaching for the top of the ladder. Think about it as if you are climbing the ladder and moving through your life and exploring your Judaism. Consider the bar mitzvah another rung on the ladder, and you will keep climbing.”
“When he said that,” Jurgens replied, “it all made sense. I said, OK. Let’s do it. I was ready.”

Rabbi Anchelle Perl, co-director of Chabad of Mineola, N.Y., led the service and celebrated the fulfillment of a promise he made to Jurgens' mother when Matthew was just 2 years old. (Photo: Avrohom Perl)
‘A Wonderful Outcome’
With the encouragement of his wife, Jurgens began studying Hebrew and learning about Judaism.
“I knew that this was something he wanted, and that it would come,” says Lori Jurgens. “I’m overjoyed for him—that he gets this kind of closure, that he has this connection to Judaism and to his mother.
“And this rekindling of a relationship with Rabbi Perl is also important,” she says, adding that “it’s not just about have a bar mitzvah, but having a connectedness to his faith. That is a wonderful outcome of all of this.”

Heartfelt emotion between longtime friends (Photo: Avrohom Perl)
While no one in his mother’s family ever insisted that he have a bar mitzvah, when Jurgens announced that he would finally celebrate the rite of passage by reading from the Torah, he recalled that they were elated.
“My grandmother had tears in her eyes,” says Jurgens. “She told me how excited and proud my mother would be.”
“It was a pretty incredible day,” Jurgens said afterwards, of having an aliyah and reading part of the service in Hebrew.
For the rabbi, Matthew Jurgens’ bar mitzvah proved a dream come true.
“I am relieved and thankful to G‑d that I was able to keep this promise to Michele Goldman,” says Perl. “The way Matthew conducted himself—we clearly have a powerful neshama [Jewish soul] who will grow in his Yiddishkeit and impact thousands.”
Indeed, Jurgens continues to study and learn, and gives the credit for that to the rabbi. “I’m very grateful to him and his son, Rabbi Dovid Perl [director of the Adult Academy of Jewish Education at Chabad of Mineola], who have been so giving of their time and resources and energy.”
His wife concurs, saying the rabbi was “the backbone of this whole thing. He was at the beginning of this wish and promise, and he’s the one fulfilling it. I think that’s so poetic—just an amazing thing.”

Jurgens gave a small speech, like any bar mitzvah boy would do. (Photo: Avrohom Perl)

Jurgens' wife and high school sweetheart, Lori, and their 3-year-old daughter, Madeline (Photo: Avrohom Perl)

A family celebrating the milestone together (Photo: Avrohom Perl)

A daddy-daughter moment (Photo: Avrohom Perl)

The requisite lifting of the celebrant at Jewish simchas. “It was a pretty incredible day,” Jurgens said afterwards. (Photo: Avrohom Perl)
© Copyright 2015, all rights reserved.
Jewish News
2015 Metcalf Award Winner Dr. Binyomin Abrams on Chemistry: ‘It’s Really, Really Hard’
By Ronelle Grier, Chabad.edu

Dr. Binyomin Abrams, a senior lecturer of chemistry in the College of Arts & Sciences at Boston University, won the school's Metcalf Award for Excellence in Teaching. He is shown on jumbo screens on the right and left at commencement on Sunday, when he was presented with the honor.
It is rare for a faculty member younger than 35 to win the prestigious Metcalf Award for Excellence in Teaching at Boston University, but Dr. Binyomin Abrams is far from an ordinary professor. In fact, he’s one with lots of energy, known for a dynamic delivery of his subject matter.
A senior lecturer of chemistry in the College of Arts & Sciences, Abrams is also a Chabad Chassid who proudly sports a long, thick beard, as well as the distinguishable dress code of black hat and black coat, in the classroom and the lab. And the lessons he imparts go far beyond the periodic table of elements.
“Some students go to a university to get an education; some go to observe the world around them,” he said. “Just walking around with my beard, jacket and hat has a tremendous impact. Some people think I’m Amish, at first, until they realize I’m teaching chemistry.”
The 34-year-old Montreal native and father of three, who was granted the university’s top teaching award on Sunday, has been a member of the Boston University faculty for eight years. He teaches a variety of chemistry courses and supervises a research group that develops original teaching approaches, such as online videos, workshops and tutorials, for students and instructors.
And he does so in a way that speaks to students. After all, he acknowledges in a short video the university made that features him in it, when it comes to chemistry: “It’s hard; it’s a hard class. It’s always a hard class. Everywhere, it’s a hard class. When I was in college, it was a hard class. Long after I’m retired from Boston University . . . it’ll be a hard class.

Part of the official program describing Abrams and his credentials.
“I think chemistry’s just hard. I think that the fact that you can’t actually see most of what we’re trying to talk about, it can be hard.
“I make really, really corny jokes, a lot of them, as often as I can,” he continues. “Chemistry can be hard and boring, or hard and fun. Either way, it’s going to be hard; you might as well have some fun.”
‘Think Like an Expert’
One of his most popular and successful innovations is “The Boston University Chemical Writing Program,” which adapts the basic concepts of the college writing program into a context relevant to the scientific study of chemistry. The research-based program has not only improved students’ writing, but has changed the way they approach their chosen field of study.
“It teaches them to think like an expert, to do chemistry like an expert,” explained Abrams, who acquired a Bachelor of Science in chemistry and a Master of Science in organic chemistry from Rensselaer Polytechnic Institute. He went on to earn his Ph.D. in theoretical physical chemistry from New York University, where he received the Margaret and Herman Sokol Fellowship in the Sciences.

Giving a wave to the crowd on May 17 during Boston University's graduation ceremony, where he walked with other colleagues.
It was in graduate school where he first became religious. He attended a Passover seder, sponsored by Chabad on Campus, with about 100 other people and something simply clicked. Rabbi Dov Yona Korn, co-director of Chabad House Bowery (serving NYU), had a profound influence on him, encouraging one small step at a time towards Jewish practice. Korn, too, found his way to Torah observance as an adult.
Abrams began to wrap tefillin, and went on to amalgamate religion and science.
“I love teaching chemistry,” he says. “I think chemistry is really, really exciting. I think just the fact that we’re trying to understand something that’s both smaller and greater than us is just so vexing and so awesome.”
While he serves as official advisor to about 25 chemistry majors, unofficially he offers guidance to a much larger number of students in various fields of study. His skills in this area were recognized when he won the Templeton Prize for Excellence in Student Advising in 2010.
Although Abrams says he does not specifically discuss his Judaism or religious beliefs in class, he takes time to answer questions or lend support to Jewish students who seek his advice after hours about a variety of subjects, including how to remain observant when classes fall, for example, during Jewish holidays.

Abrams and his wife, Liorah, and their three daughters
“Many Jewish students, especially those who went to day schools, never had to do things like excuse themselves on holidays before,” he said. “I help the students communicate with their professors, and reassure them that my colleagues are great and will be understanding.”
He hopes that by openly displaying his Judaism, it demonstrates how it is possible to meld faith with a successful career without compromising one or the other.
“Dr. Abrams personifies what a Chassid should be,” said Rabbi Shmuel Posner, director of the Chabad House of Greater Boston, located near the Boston University campus. “He is the right combination of someone who is proficient in his profession and upfront as a Chassid.”
In addition to advising the student Orthodox minyan group, Abrams works informally with former students who are interested in learning more about Torah and Chassidus.
‘Always Willing to Help’

The proud winner of a prestigious award
“How he finds time, I don’t know . . . he’s always willing to help students in any way,” said Posner. “When students ask him about Jewish involvement [on campus], he directs them to the Chabad House. He gives a talk every year on topics such as ‘Torah and Science,’ which brings in students who would never otherwise come here.”
The Metcalf Awards were established in 1973 by a gift from the late alumnus and Boston University Trustee, Dr. Arthur G. B. Metcalf. The winners are nominated by members of the university community, and chosen by a committee of faculty members and students. Abrams is the sixth chemistry faculty recipient since the award was first given out in 1974.
The award citation, which was read at the presentation, stated: “Dr. Abrams has shown that with intellectual rigor and unbridled energy and imagination, even the weightiest scientific concepts can be made understandable and entertaining.” It also cited his “humor-laced lectures and an open-door policy for those striving to grasp new material.”
“It was very exciting—a nice acknowledgement of my hard work—and it was very flattering to receive it so early in my career,” said Abrams, who added that it will probably take him a while to fully process the experience.
“For now, it is a reminder that everything that we do has an impact far greater than we can comprehend,” he said. “I feel very grateful that the Almighty has given me such opportunities to impact so many students in a positive way, and I am more mindful than ever about how much more needs to be done.”

Rabbi Shmuel Posner, left, director of the Chabad House of Greater Boston, with Abrams lighting a public menorah during Chanukah 2011.
© Copyright 2015, all rights reserved.
Women
Ponderings about Premature Death and Purpose By Lieba Rudolph

The thought that terrified me most when I was a teenager was that I would die before I figured out why I was alive in the first place. Premature deaths were uncommon, but I knew they happened, sometimes even close to home.
In 1973, just after I graduated from high school, our family friends' daughter was killed while driving home after her freshman year of college. What made her death more chilling were the words my mother repeated for many years after it. She said the girl's parents were haunted by one thought: If only she had forgotten something and gone back for it . . .Our neighbors' daughter was murdered
Sixteen years later, our neighbors' teenage daughter, their only child, was murdered in their backyard by her friend—an unspeakable horror. Shortly after it happened, Rabbi Sholom Lipskar, a rabbi who had made a profound impact on me and my husband, came to speak in Pittsburgh. We knew that if anyone could offer the couple support, Rabbi Lipskar could, so we asked him if he would be willing to pay a condolence call.
I wasn't at their meeting, but apparently it was a meaningful visit; years later, the couple included it in the book they wrote about the events surrounding their daughter's death.
Rabbi Lipskar told them that their daughter was only destined to be on this earth until the very moment when she left it. Nothing could have changed that reality.
Everyone has preordained expiration dates. There's no place for "If only . . ."
What I'm pondering is this: Could the extreme pain and sense of indignation that many are feeling these days about death (this is too much, it's not supposed to be this way) reflect how close we are to the arrival of Moshiach, when death as we know it will leave this world and it really won't be this way?
Could this be because our souls feel, sense, know that immortality is within reach? In my own lifetime, 60 went from being old to being middle-aged!
Previous generations accepted early demises as a given, occurring as early as infancy. Death was very much interwoven with life. And as Jews, our ancestors understood the risk of dying at the hands of an anti-Semite as a fact of life. Pogroms happened.
Today, thank G‑d, for the most part, that is not our reality. We feel entitled to long and healthy years, and in general that is what G‑d wants for us as well.
There's just one little hitch.
Long and healthy years are not an end unto themselves. G‑d wants us to acknowledge that our very life—and everything in life—is Him and only Him. And then, of course, He wants us to behave accordingly.
But G‑d also created a paradox. In order to preserve our freedom of choice, He has hidden Himself in nature and made us feel that we exist on our own, separately from Him.
Despite this, He asks us to transform our lives from a self-centered, physical existence to a G‑d-centered one. This is my answer to my teenage question about the purpose of life. As demanding as the work is, it is still far better than not knowing why I'm here.
Although sometimes, I'm not sure. BecauseHe asks us to transform our lives knowing what I know makes it harder to live with the painful reality of this world, that Moshiach is coming very soon but he’s not here yet. Now I know it's not supposed to be this way.
The Lubavitcher Rebbe himself, Rabbi Menachem Mendel Schneerson, of righteous memory, couldn’t understand why Moshiach had not yet arrived; far be it from me to ask what has taken so long. But every day that passes means his arrival is closer, not further away. Perhaps the reason we are experiencing the pain of death so deeply is that our Jewish souls feel, sense, know that eternal life is imminent.
What better time than now for us to ask G‑d to send Moshiach, so we can have our loved ones returned, so we all can finally experience life the way it’s supposed to be, eternally?
Lieba Rudolph lives in Pittsburgh, PA, and writes a weekly blog about Jewish spirituality.
© Copyright 2015, all rights reserved.
Women
4 Discipline Tactics You Should Never Use By Sarah Chana Radcliffe

In parenting, our instincts are not always right. For instance, when a child does something destructive, we may impulsively find ourselves yelling in upset. The behavior comes "naturally" and "instinctively," and yet it can often prove to be counterproductive. In fact, many of the actions we spontaneously take to educate our youngsters often have little or no positive impact. Let's examine four such parenting interventions and see how we can turn them into effective educational strategies.
1. Focusing on What’s Wrong, Instead of on What’s Right
This error comes out of our natural tendency to see what’s wrong far more easily than we see what’s right. If a child is teasing a sibling, his behavior will come to our attention far more easily than if he is sitting and playing nicely with him. The problem with focusing too much on the wrong behavior is that attentionOur instincts are not always rightreinforces behavior. Any kind of attention—pleasant or unpleasant—increases the behavior it is attached to. If we look at, touch or talk to the child when he is doing something wrong, chances are very good that he’ll do that same wrong thing again. It doesn’t matter at all that our look may be a stern one, or that our speech may be a reprimand. It doesn’t even matter if we add a negative consequence. As long as we give attention to a specific behavior, we are sure to see more of that behavior. For instance, asking a child to chew with her mouth closed will generally lead to more chewing with her mouth open, because the parent spoke to the child while the child was eating with her mouth open!
Therefore, we need to be careful to give most of our daily attention to neutral (non-problematic) and positive (praiseworthy) behaviors. We should be smiling at, touching and talking to a child when that youngster is doing nothing wrong, and also when he is doing something positive. Although this is challenging to do when the child’s negative behaviors are frequent and intense, it is even more important that we do it at these times. We will soon notice that his behavior is improving! Focusing most of our educational efforts on positive interventions falls in line with the dictum of our sages that “the right hand draws near while the left hand pushes away.” The right hand, symbolizing loving communication, is the stronger hand. The weaker left hand, symbolizing correction and discipline, has its more minor role in childrearing.
2. Failing to Discipline
Ironically, too little discipline can also be a problem. Children don’t necessarily outgrow negative behaviors. In fact, as they engage in such behaviors, they are actually practicing them, building strong neural networks in their little brains. A child who speaks rudely, for example, is building a pathway for rude speech. As he engages in the behavior over time, it becomes more and more natural for him to access that pathway. It isn’t necessary or advisable to tackle every negative behavior that a child is doing in a given day or week. However, you can make a written list of the inappropriate behaviors and address them one by one.
Most inappropriate behaviors can be corrected with PositiveIt isn't necessary to tackle every negative behavior in one day Discipline, an intense form of positive attention to the desired behavior. A Positive Discipline strategy feels good to the child instead of bad. “Discipline” means education, not punishment; there is no need to choose a punishing form of discipline when corrective techniques that feel good will accomplish the job. Moreover, good-feeling discipline focuses attention on the desired behavior rather than on the inappropriate behavior.
For example, let’s say the child is a poor listener. Instead of punishing him for not listening, we want to reinforce his behavior when he does listen. Therefore, the moment we see that he has listened and responded appropriately to an instruction, we can verbally acknowledge his listening, praise it and even reward it. Use a similar approach for most of the inappropriate behavior that occurs, and save the “bad-feeling” discipline for the very rare behaviors that aren’t responding to the more pleasant approach.
3. Using Anger
Parents are only human, so they naturally feel anger at times. However, this is one emotion that our sages particularly caution us to limit. We need to work on ourselves in order to feel less angry, and we need to learn how to refrain from speaking and acting in anger. In parenting, anger can harm the child’s development and the parent-child relationship. For now, let’s just say that anger gives far too much attention to a negative behavior and therefore increases the chances that the behavior will occur again.
When we’re feeling angry, we should not try to educate the child at all. We can wait until we’ve cooledAnger can harm the relationship down and had a chance to think about what we want the child to be doing and the parenting plan we can develop to help him do that. If we’ve already been using positive attention and positive discipline with no improvement, we can certainly use old-fashioned negative consequences. However, these must be put forward without any show of anger.
Fortunately, it is possible to discipline both children and adults without anger. After all, the “right-priced ticket” (like an expensive speeding ticket for adults who drive too fast) can change behavior very effectively. Just as a police officer doesn’t have to yell at you to get you to drive at the right speed, you don’t have to yell at your kids to gain their cooperation. The police officer gives you a ticket—a monetary cost for your behavior. You can give your child a ticket—loss of a privilege, a time-out, a writing assignment or some other annoying consequence—to drive your point home if necessary.
4. Name-Calling
If you use negative labels in parenting, you are just as guilty as your child is of name-calling! The rule in family life is that no negative labels should ever be used. It doesn’t matter if the label is perfectly accurate. Words like “lazy,” “stupid,” “selfish,” “irresponsible,” “careless,” “mean” and “rude” are all forms of name-calling.
Grammar doesn’t matter here. All the following sentences mean exactly the same thing to the child: “You’re being mean.” “What you are doing is mean.” “Don’t be mean.” “That was mean.” Unfortunately, the word “mean” is the only one that the brain will register and remember from each of these sentences. Descriptive labels are quickly “turned to glucose,” so to speak—they are stored as if you said, “You are mean.” This is a result of how the brain processes language, and there is nothing you can do about it, except make an effort to refrain from using unpleasant labels in any sentence. (By the way, the Torah itself avoids negative labels wherever possible, going out of the way to use extra words in order to phrase something in a positive way instead of more briefly describing it with a negative label. This is despite the Torah’s principle of using the fewest words possible to express its teachings.)Grammar labels don't matter here
Instead of using a negative label, describe the unacceptable behavior, and leave off the insulting adjective. For instance, instead of telling a child that he is irresponsible, you can point out that it is his job to take out the garbage, and the family is depending on him. You can even use the positive label “responsible,” as in, “You need to be responsible. We are counting on you.” Similarly, when a child is being rude to you, just tell him that he needs to be “polite” or “respectful”—and then follow up with your normal interventions to reinforce polite behavior. There is no need to use the word “rude,” which is hurtful, insulting and concept-forming—meaning that the child will now think of himself as a rude person and therefore act that way more often! Labels have real power.
Avoiding these discipline pitfalls can help you guide your child more effectively and joyfully. After all, more positivity and less negativity is as good for you as it is for your child.
Sarah Chana Radcliffe is the author of The Fear Fix, Make Yourself at Home and Raise Your Kids Without Raising Your Voice. Visit her parenting page or access her teleclasses.
© Copyright 2015, all rights reserved.
Women
My Heart Speaks By Chana Scop

Author’s note: In raising a special child, I've met some of the most supportive, caring and sensitive people. People who understand what it can be like to face daily challenges. However, every once in a while, I come face to face with the opposite. Recently, I was saddened by a lack of understanding that I experienced. This blog post is my humble attempt to share with you that we all have challenges, and it is our gift to ourselves to make the effort not to judge, but rather to support and listen, even if we can’t truly understand. Each of us is unique and different, and that in and of itself deserves respect. I also want to thank all of you, my precious readers, for your warmth and support, and for allowing me to share the experiences of my life with you.
Is it possible for one to really portray and express the feelings of one’s heart? Can words really describe those moments of despair, worry, concern, deep love and desperation?
Raising a child with special needs is most often indescribable, for both challenging and blessed reasons. And because it is indescribable, it is easily misunderstood. So what do we do upon hearing and reading someone else’s perception, opinion and experience?Do you know what it is like inside my thoughts?
How do we self-soothe, when what is mirrored back to us is nothing but judgment and disdain?
I ask you, dear reader, do you know what it is like inside my thoughts, inside my heart? The longings, yearnings, doubts about the future?
Do you know what it is like to enter the abyss of seizures, medications, therapists, disability rights, medical aid, sleepless nights full of worry and tears?
Can you fathom what it is like to hold your baby as he is put to sleep for surgery? To return to the waiting room with his pajamas gripped tightly in your sweaty palms, for hours that feel like eternity?
Have you ever placed your child on a school bus and dissolved into tears, wondering if he knows where he is going and when he will return?
Would you believe me when I say that on my child’s first day of school, I could do nothing but wait for him to come home?
Have you ever had to advocate for medical aid in the classroom to a school district representative who expressed that she would rather place your child in a wheelchair than have the city pay for an aide?
And have you experienced absolute, intense love when your child gave you a most brilliant smile, when you didn’t know he could?
How about the sheer gratitude and thankfulness to G‑d when you saw your child take his first step, after doctors said he would never walk?
Did you ever look into the eyes of a special needs child and hear him speak volumes, although he was nonverbal and couldn't “speak” a word?
Have you ever rejoiced in life’s wonderful miracles of being able to swallow, sit up and smile?
How about the remarkable, humbling experience of learning what life is truly about from a child who some would consider useless, slow, incapable and ill-mannered?
Do you know the depth of love a mother has for all things abnormal, atypical and challenging within her life, because of her incomprehensible passion for a soul deemed so special, many fail to see it?
Are any of us immune to having a special needs child or knowing someone who has?Are any of us immune?
Are any of us immune to challenge, grief, worry, fear, guilt, pain, heartache?
When will we still our judgment and ego and allow our hearts to beat to the rhythm of sensitivity, patience, acceptance and love?
When will we pause for self-reflection and introspection before dissecting the expressions and feelings of another human being?
When will we pay attention, listen and forgive, realizing that we can’t possibly know what it is truly like to be the other?
Chana is a proud wife and mother of eight living in Mill Valley, California. She is inspired by the colors and textures of everyday life, and loves sharing her creative ideas with her community. Chana writes DIY projects, crafts and recipes celebrating her Jewish life and shlichus on her blog Chana’s Art Room, and is the co-director of Chabad of Mill Valley with her husband, Rabbi Hillel Scop. To read more about Chaim Boruch, and Chana’s journey, take a look at her personal special-needs blog, Life of Blessing.
© Copyright 2015, all rights reserved.
Lifestyle
Food: Chicken Tacos with Tomato and Grape Juice Salsa By Robin Plotkin

Serves: 8
Prep Time: 10 min
Cook Time: 15 min
Total Time: 25 min
Taco Ingredients
8 6-inch corn tortillas, warmed
1 lb. cooked shredded chicken
2 cups dark mixed greens
1 ½ cups tomato and grape juice salsa
Cilantro, if desired
Salsa Ingredients
¾ cup low-sodium salsa
¾ cup 100% Grape Juice made with Concord grapes
½ tsp ground cumin
Juice of 1 lime
Directions
Place corn tortillas in a 200° F oven to warm.
While tortillas are warming, in a small saucepan stir together salsa, grape juice and cumin. Heat gently until warmed throughout. Remove from heat. Add lime juice and stir to incorporate.
Remove corn tortillas from oven. Top each tortilla with mixed greens. Add chicken. Spoon salsa over the chicken. Add cilantro, if desired.
Serving suggestion: Serve tacos with 1/2 cup black beans and 1/2 cup brown rice for a balanced meal.
Sauce can also be served over flank steak, fajita meat or rice for added flavor.
Nutrition Information (per serving)
Serving Size: 1 taco with 3 tbsp. sauce
Taco:
200 calories
3g fat
0.5g saturated fat
20g protein
21g carbohydrate
0mg cholesterol
270mg sodium
3g fiber
Sauce only:
5 calories
0g fat
0g saturated fat
0g protein
4g carbohydrate
0mg cholesterol
35mg sodium
less than 1g fiber
Recipe Contributed by Robin Plotkin, RD, LD.
© Copyright 2015, all rights reserved.
Lifestyle
Art: I Have Come to My Garden By Chana Rivka Hawkins

Artist’s Statement: The chassidic discourse Basi L'Gani, and the Song of Songs, inspired me to do this painting. The garden is the earth and the bride is about to enter the bridal chamber with the king. She is holding the rose that represents the Jewish people, and the glory of G-d is represented by the yellow glow above the chamber.
Chana Rivka began her journey to Judaism in her early 20s. At the same time, she began to paint. She took a break from painting when she married and had children, but later in life, when she moved to a Jewish community, the beauty of Judaism and the observant lifestyle motivated her to express her love for Torah through painting.
© Copyright 2015, all rights reserved.
Chabad.org Magazine - Editor: Yanki Tauber

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Missionary Renegade

Tuesday, May 26, 2015

Chabad Magazine "Why Michael From Siberia Cried on Shavuot" for Tuesday, Sivan 8, 5775 · May 26, 2015

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