Saturday, October 10, 2015

Where Are the Four Rivers that Come from Eden? from Chabad Magazine for Wednesday, Tishrei 24, 5776 · October 7, 2015

Where Are the Four Rivers that Come from Eden? from Chabad Magazine for Wednesday, Tishrei 24, 5776 · October 7, 2015
Editor's Note:
Dear Friend,
There seem to be many new beginnings on the Jewish calendar. First there’s Rosh Hashanah, the day when G‑d determines our fate for the rest of the year. Then there’s Yom Kippur, the day when our sins are forgiven, giving us a fresh start. And then there’s Shabbat Bereishit, when we read the first portion of Genesis. It is said that the way we conduct ourselves on Shabbat Bereishit will impact the entire year.
Shouldn’t all these new beginnings be rolled into one? Doesn’t it make sense to start the year, get a clean slate, and begin the Torah anew all on the same day?
Perhaps it takes time to really internalize the changes we are making during this time of year. It’s a process of soul-searching, resolving to align ourselves with our higher selves, and then actually translating that resolve into action. And Shabbat Bereishit is the culmination of that process. Shabbat Bereishit demands of us, “Have the High Holidays really changed you? Now that you’re returning to your daily life, will you carry that inspiration and allow it to permeate the mundanity?”
How have the High Holidays impacted you? Let us know in the comments section below!
Sasha Friedman,
on behalf of the Chabad.org Editorial Team

Miracles
At every moment, in each thing, a miracle occurs far transcendent of even the splitting of the Red Sea: Existence is renewed out of the void, and a natural order is sustained where there should be chaos.
Indeed, it is not the miracle that is wondrous, but the natural order. Does anyone have a good reason why gravity should behave today the way it behaved yesterday? Does anyone have a good reason why there should be anything at all?[Shaar HaYichud VehaEmunah, chapter 2]

This Week's Features Printable Magazine

Who Controls the Weather? by Chaya Shuchat
It seems that we have come full circle.
There was a time when people believed they could control the weather. In every society there were rituals to bring forth rain, from sacrifices to special prayers to rain dances.
Later, people became enlightened and learned that rain depended on outside forces beyond our control. Singing and dancing have no effect.
Now the pendulum has swung in the other direction. Human behavior has a great deal of influence on weather patternsScientists have come to realize that human behavior has a great deal of influence on weather patterns. Industrial activity releases unprecedented levels of greenhouse gases into the air, raising global temperatures and contributing to rising sea levels, desertification, and perhaps more savage storms. Every extreme weather event, from hurricanes to ice storms, is greeted by a media hoopla reminding us that climate change is responsible.
Long ago, we may have attributed a freak storm or a devastating hurricane to divine retribution, and even in the not-so-distant past, natural disasters were referred to as “acts of G‑d.” Today, however, we are ready to accept a much more direct responsibility for catastrophic events.
What does the Torah have to say on the matter? Can we control the weather? What is our responsibility toward the environment? To what lengths must we go to protect open spaces or endangered species? And are we at fault for natural disasters?
The Torah portion of Bereishit is fundamental in establishing the role of man within the order of creation, and sheds light on some of the thorniest environmental issues of today.
Let’s examine several verses in order:
1. In the beginning, G‑d created heaven and earth.1
The very first verse of the Torah establishes the inconvertible truth: the world belongs to G‑d, full stop. Our approach to environmental issues needs to be built on this foundation. How does G‑d want us to treat His world? Are we using it in the way He intended?
2. G‑d said, “Let us make man in our image, after our likeness, and they shall rule over the fish of the sea, the fowl of the heavens, the animals, all the earth and all the creeping things that creep upon the earth.”2
In this verse, G‑d is contemplating the creation of mankind and envisioning the role we would play. We find two themes in this verse: we are created in the image of G‑d, and we are given the responsibility of ruling over all other creatures. These two facts go hand in hand. Our right to use natural resources or to modify the environment is predicated on our recognition that we are here as G‑d’s representatives on earth, responsible for safeguarding all of creation.
3. G‑d blessed them, and G‑d said to them, “Be fruitful and multiply and fill the earth and subdue it, and rule over the fish of the sea, the fowl of the sky and the beasts that tread upon the earth.”3
Here G‑d is not convening with the angels, but addressing Adam and Eve directly, laying out their role on earth. In addition to “ruling” over the creatures of the earth, G‑d adds two more directives: to be fruitful and multiply, and to “subdue” the earth. Chassidic teachings explain that the word “subdue” refers to our work of transforming the world into a place that reflects its creator.4
This verse does not give us license to exploit the world’s resources and harm the environment. On the other hand, it is not meant as an indictment of all human industrial activity. In an ideal world, all human endeavor is a means to an end. G‑d created a world that is “subduable,” one that can be manipulated and reshaped by man, but only to serve a higher purpose—to reveal the G‑dly unity within all of creation.
When we take a beautiful landscape and replace it with a cityscape, is this an abomination of G‑d’s earth? If the creation of the city will help more people live, work and function in order to better serve G‑d, then it is not an abomination but an enhancement of the earth. We must ask ourselves: does our industry contribute to greater unity and cooperation between people? Do we use our inventions to help each other or to exploit one another? And—have we built the city in the most eco-friendly and sustainable way, giving back to the earth rather than depleting it? We were given a G‑dly power to shape our environment. How we apply that power is up to us.
4. These are the generations of the heavens and the earth when they were created, on the day that the L‑rd G‑d made earth and heaven. Now no tree of the field was yet on the earth, neither did any herb of the field yet grow, because the L‑rd G‑d had not brought rain upon the earth, and there was no man to work the soil. And a mist ascended from the earth and watered the entire surface of the ground.5
These verses encapsulate the symbiotic relationship between humankind and the environment. G‑d had created the world completely, yet had not brought rain to irrigate the earth and actualize the earth’s potential. For this He awaited the creation of Adam, who would recognize the need for rain and pray for it.
It may sound strange, but in chassidic thought the rain that falls from above is a symbol of our work below.6 There is an intimate relationship between human activity and rainfall—which we have always understood in a spiritual sense, but are now just beginning to unravel in a physical sense as well. The “mist” referred to in this verse is There is an intimate relationship between human activity and rainfallour activity, our efforts to work with the world, elevate it and make it more spiritual. In return, G‑d reciprocates and “waters the entire surface of the ground,” saturating the world with His goodness.
When we pray for rain, we ask not only for precipitation but that G‑d send gishmei brachah, rains of blessing. We ask that G‑d send us rain in the right time and in the right amount. And this, indeed, depends a great deal on us. We ask that G‑d bless our endeavors. We ask for the wisdom and strength to use the resources that G‑d has given us in the proper way, in a way that respects every element of creation and reveals its G‑dly source. Then we will enjoy G‑d’s blessings and dwell peacefully on earth, sustained by G‑d’s full, open and holy hand.
FOOTNOTES
1. Genesis 1:1.
2. Genesis 1:26.
3. Genesis 1:28.
4. See Sefer Hasichot 5751, vol. 1, pp. 80–86.
5. Genesis 2:4–6.
6. Sefer Hasichot 5752, vol. 1, p. 148.
_____________________________

Shabbat Bereishit 
  The Peasants’ Journey


In the center of a bustling metropolis stood a tall, forbidding gate. Behind the bars, marble pillars lined a brick path leading to the giant metal doors of the palace. People were filled with awe and wonderment when passing the majestic-looking building. They had all heard about the king, but his persona remained a mystery, even to his closest advisors. They saw him only on rare occasion, and when they did, he appeared perfectly dignified His presence was intimidating and his demeanor mysteriousand impeccable. His presence was intimidating and his demeanor mysterious. He rarely spoke in front of people, and never betrayed his personal thoughts or emotions. The king was thus larger than life, more than just a human being to his subjects. This aura of mystique was carefully maintained.
The population of the larger cities mostly consisted of the elite members of society. The doctors, lawyers, professors and ministers lived in these cities. The king treated them with honor, and some were even offered positions in the government. However, he was sure to keep a distance from them, always remaining elusive.
In the more rural areas lived the lowest class of society, the peasants, who spent their days working in the fields. These peasants were not just farmers because that was their chosen profession, but because they were simple in character, loyally doing their job with diligence and devotion. Illiterate and unrefined, they were often dismissed by the more elite classes. Yet the king was acutely aware that they were the most valuable contributors. Even the most sophisticated citizen would starve without their produce.
The king looked for a way to ensure that these outliers felt part of the country as a whole, because without them everything would collapse.

King in the Field

The peasants were gathered in the market one day, sharing their crops and catching up on gossip, when they noticed an unfamiliar farmer roaming around. He looked like the rest of them, but his overalls were unusually clean and he carried himself with a distinct dignity. They began to whisper among themselves about the stranger, until one man suggested something wild.
“Y’know, I think that might be the king.”
The group of peasants burst out laughing. “The king? Are you kidding? The king lives far away in a gigantic palace. He probably doesn’t even know we exist!”
“No, I’m telling you, that’s the king. I’ve seen his picture.”
One of the farmers ran home to find a picture. Indeed, this new farmer looked exactly like the king, except that the man in the picture had a penetrating glare and a fierce expression, while this new farmer’s eyes twinkled with a playful charm. One brave peasant ventured over to ask him directly.
“Well, yes, I am the king,” he answered, smiling broadly.
An electric excitement spread instantly through the crowd. The king was wise, intuitive, and surprisingly easy to speak toThe king came to visit them without his entourage, his honor guard or his royal attire! The notion was unfathomable. The king sat down, and they gathered around to schmooze with him. He asked them about their farming and their crops, and soon the scene seemed so casual, so ordinary, that they forgot their initial excitement. Some of the farmers began to wander away, anxious to get back to their work. Some went home and only returned to spend time with the king on the weekends, when they had spare time.
Others were completely enamored by the king, eager to relish every moment in his presence. They threw down their plows and spent their days drinking in his every word. They noticed that the king was wise, intuitive, and surprisingly easy to speak to. He took interest in their personal lives and was understanding of their daily struggles. As the weeks went by, it seemed as though he forgot that he was a king altogether.
A full month passed by before the king’s visit came to an end. The king sadly informed the farmers that it was time for him to return to his palace, but that anyone who wished was welcome to join him. Then the king donned his royal robes, his entourage returned, and a royal procession advanced toward the palace.
The elite ministers excitedly greeted the king at the entrance to the city and escorted him toward the palace, while the farmers followed sheepishly behind. They finally arrived at the formidable gates of the palace, and the king turned to face the crowd: “Everyone stand back. Only these folks may enter my palace.”

Peasants in the Palace

When they first entered the palace, the peasants were bewildered and clumsy. They ran awkwardly through the halls, stumbling over each other. They grabbed food with their hands as soon as it appeared on the table. When they conversed, they used crude language, slurring their words and interrupting each other mid-sentence. They broke objects, and paintings fell off the walls. They slammed doors and often lost their way around.
At the same time, the farmers were stunned by the aura that filled their new surroundings. Something about it commanded a certain reverence. Slowly, the peasants adapted to their new environment, and began to master the palatial etiquette. They began to walk slowly and with dignity. They learned to speak courteously and listen politely to others. They learned to wait patiently for their food to be served, and not to look too excited about it when it arrived. They learned to use forks and knives, and napkins too. They engaged in conversation with the king’s ministers and the royal family. Gradually, their environment transformed them into refined, sophisticated and noble people. They were exhilarated by the experience.
Just when they are getting acclimated, the king called the peasants together for a meeting. He stood before the group of starry-eyed peasants and announced, “Thank you all for joining me in my palace for the last ten days. But you must remember that you all have a job to do. It is time for you to go home and harvest your wheat.”
The peasants looked at each other in shock. The peasants looked at each other in shockThe notion of returning to their ordinary lives on the farm was appalling. Ten days of living in the palace had shifted them into a sublime state of mind. They had been trained to walk, eat and sleep like royalty. It was painful to imagine putting on their stained overalls and picking up their plows again.
The king continued, “You are the most important to me because you feed this entire country. I brought you here to show you how much you matter to me and how much I depend on you. But now it is time for you to go home and do the job that everyone is counting on you for.”

Dancing in the Park

Somewhat reluctantly, the peasants left the palace doors, and as they did, the intensity of ten days exploded like air released from a pressurized canister. The ambiance of the palace had been so thrilling, there had been no space to process their experience. The energy they had compressed inside their hearts as they tried to maintain their hyper-focused behavior now erupted into uncontainable joy. The adrenalin was powerful and their spirits were soaring. Exhilarated, they took off to a nearby park and began to dance. Desperate for a means of expressing their elation, the peasants resorted to what they knew best. Gone were the sophistication, the cultured manners and the rigid performance. They danced, they sang, they drank and they danced some more. They rejoiced in the fact that their existence was noticed, and they celebrated the attention and love they had experienced.

The Turning Point

Seven days of partying left the peasants depleted of wine, food and energy. They lay on the ground, exhausted from the dramatic whirlwind they had been through. They were too tired to celebrate and too tired to move, so they began to think. As they lay on the grass, exhausted and sweaty, a novel idea entered their collective consciousness: The king showed us his immense appreciation of us by engaging with us, visiting us and bringing us into his palace. But there is something even more powerful that the king was trying to convey. The king didn’t go through this ritual just to display his love, but to show us the importance of our responsibility. We don’t farm all year around so the king will give us special treatment. We do it because the king has trusted us with a duty to feed this country. And that is the greatest gift of all.
As this realization sank in, a metamorphosis took place in the people. They shifted from relishing their personal experience to feeling empowered. With renewed enthusiasm they leapt up to dance again. They celebrated once more, but this time they didn’t celebrate the king’s appreciation of them, but their newfound responsibility.

The Journey Home

After one more day of dancing, they finally journeyed back home. They returned to their farms with a renewed sense of duty. It didn’t matter anymore that they were poor and unsophisticated, and that the rest of the country looked down on them. It didn’t even matter that the king himself recognized them. All that mattered now was the service they would provide for their country.

G‑d created many spiritual worlds filled with angels, who have a sophisticated understanding of spirituality. Beneath these spiritual worlds is the physical world, where we human beings exist. We have almost no awareness of G‑dliness at all, but we sustain all of the spiritual worlds with our mitzvahs.
Once a year, during the month of Elul, G‑d makes Himself completely available to us, but in a way that is so subtle, we might miss Him altogether if we don’t make the effort to discover Him.
The High Holidays, on the other hand, evoke a natural Once a year, G‑d makes Himself completely available to usreaction in every Jew, irrespective of his efforts. The aura that surrounds the ten days from Rosh Hashanah to Yom Kippur is so overpowering that Jews automatically react with a sense of awe. Then, after Yom Kippur is over, the intensity wears off and it is as if this otherworldly experience never happened at all. But we don’t stop there.
During the High Holidays, we spent our days fasting and praying, experiencing G‑d’s love on His terms. Four days later, on Sukkot, we eat and rejoice and celebrate G‑d’s love on our terms. After seven days of celebrating, Shemini Atzeret arrives, and we stop to absorb the experiences of the entire month. It is at that point that we realize that our greatest joy is not simply that G‑d loves us, but that He chose us for a mission by giving us the Torah. This realization is followed by Simchat Torah, when we dance for one last day, celebrating the mission G‑d empowered us with by giving us the Torah.
Finally, following Simchat Torah, we take leave of the whirlwind of holidays and return to our ordinary lives, empowered by our newfound purpose.1
Hadassah Silberstein grew up in Ithaca, NY. She studied at Machon Shoshanat Yerushalayim and Mayanot Institute. She currently lives in Brooklyn and teaches Jewish studies at a local high school. She is also the co-founder of Batsheva Academy, an institute devoted to advanced Torah learning for women.

FOOTNOTES
1.Adapted from a lecture by Rabbi Yossi Paltiel. This story is an embellishment of the analogy given in Likkutei Torah for the month of Elul. Based on various other chassidic discourses, this story has been extended to the holidays that follow in the month of Tishrei.
© Copyright 2015, all rights reserved.



     Shabbat Bereishit 
  Hit the Road, Jack!


“Hit the road, Jack . . .” This is the song we heard playing loud and live on a makeshift stage in the middle of a grassy knoll in the neighborhood park. We had come to the park in an attempt to get out of the house on this last day of Yom Tov, Simchat Torah, to walk a bit and breathe fresh air, for the children to enjoy some play time and for me to catch up on Psalms. We were completely unaware of the festivities we would encounter.
The loud music was not a deterrent for my children—they came to play, and a live stage off to the side was barely noticed. I thought to myself, We should probably go home.How could I make my kids turn right back around?The live music didn’t seem appropriate for this holiday, a sacred day similar to Shabbat on which we don’t play music. But how could I make my kids turn right back around?
So I sat there, Psalms in hand, while my children played happily. As time passed, it occurred to me how hard I was working to concentrate on the Psalms, yet how smoothly the words flowed off my lips. I felt like I had reached an intense level of concentration, despite—or because of—my environment. And that’s when it hit me: This is the life we live today! Doing holy work, surrounded by all kinds of loud distractions—sounds, sights and smells that can interfere with our spiritual tasks at hand. It’s not easy. It is rigorous and takes intense determination. And how much more difficult it is for our children, who are like seedlings in a garden, vulnerable to their environment! This holy work can be done, but sometimes not without drifting—“Hit the road, Jack.”
Another thought I had, this one perhaps more appropriate for this exact day, season and song at play, was this:
After Simchat Torah, it is a custom at the court of the rebbes of Chabad to declare: “V’Yaakov halach l’darko”—“And Jacob went on his way” (or the modern version that came over the loudspeaker, “Hit the road, Jack”). There are two beautiful meanings for this custom:
On a simple level, Jacob symbolizes the Jewish people. Thus, “Jacob went on his way” means that after the excitement of the holidays is over, the Jewish people return to their regular path, to their normal, everyday lives, albeit uplifted by the preceding holiday season.
A second explanation adds more depth: We do not need to leave the holiness behindafter the holidays are over, Jacob (the Jewish people) goes on “His way”—the way of G‑d—studying Torah and performing mitzvahs.
That song, sung over and over in the park, reminded me of these lessons.
Each one of us has the ability to follow “His way” in our day-to-day lives. We do not need to leave the holiness of Rosh Hashanah, Yom Kippur, Sukkot and Simchat Torah behind; we take them with us just as our forefather “Jack” (and our foremothers too) did, as we “hit the road”—the long journey of the year ahead.
Dena is a mother of 8 children, including 3-year-old twins, and Chabad Shlucha in Atlanta, Ga. She is the director of the Intown Jewish Preschool and wife to her husband, and spends time writing, interacting with, teaching and mentoring the people in her community.

© Copyright 2015, all rights reserved.



     Parshah 
  Who Controls the Weather?


It seems that we have come full circle.
There was a time when people believed they could control the weather. In every society there were rituals to bring forth rain, from sacrifices to special prayers to rain dances.
Later, people became enlightened and learned that rain depended on outside forces beyond our control. Singing and dancing have no effect.
Now the pendulum has swung in the other direction. Human behavior has a great deal of influence on weather patternsScientists have come to realize that human behavior has a great deal of influence on weather patterns. Industrial activity releases unprecedented levels of greenhouse gases into the air, raising global temperatures and contributing to rising sea levels, desertification, and perhaps more savage storms. Every extreme weather event, from hurricanes to ice storms, is greeted by a media hoopla reminding us that climate change is responsible.
Long ago, we may have attributed a freak storm or a devastating hurricane to divine retribution, and even in the not-so-distant past, natural disasters were referred to as “acts of G‑d.” Today, however, we are ready to accept a much more direct responsibility for catastrophic events.
What does the Torah have to say on the matter? Can we control the weather? What is our responsibility toward the environment? To what lengths must we go to protect open spaces or endangered species? And are we at fault for natural disasters?
The Torah portion of Bereishit is fundamental in establishing the role of man within the order of creation, and sheds light on some of the thorniest environmental issues of today.
Let’s examine several verses in order:
1. In the beginning, G‑d created heaven and earth.1
The very first verse of the Torah establishes the inconvertible truth: the world belongs to G‑d, full stop. Our approach to environmental issues needs to be built on this foundation. How does G‑d want us to treat His world? Are we using it in the way He intended?
2. G‑d said, “Let us make man in our image, after our likeness, and they shall rule over the fish of the sea, the fowl of the heavens, the animals, all the earth and all the creeping things that creep upon the earth.”2
In this verse, G‑d is contemplating the creation of mankind and envisioning the role we would play. We find two themes in this verse: we are created in the image of G‑d, and we are given the responsibility of ruling over all other creatures. These two facts go hand in hand. Our right to use natural resources or to modify the environment is predicated on our recognition that we are here as G‑d’s representatives on earth, responsible for safeguarding all of creation.
3. G‑d blessed them, and G‑d said to them, “Be fruitful and multiply and fill the earth and subdue it, and rule over the fish of the sea, the fowl of the sky and the beasts that tread upon the earth.”3
Here G‑d is not convening with the angels, but addressing Adam and Eve directly, laying out their role on earth. In addition to “ruling” over the creatures of the earth, G‑d adds two more directives: to be fruitful and multiply, and to “subdue” the earth. Chassidic teachings explain that the word “subdue” refers to our work of transforming the world into a place that reflects its creator.4
This verse does not give us license to exploit the world’s resources and harm the environment. On the other hand, it is not meant as an indictment of all human industrial activity. In an ideal world, all human endeavor is a means to an end. G‑d created a world that is “subduable,” one that can be manipulated and reshaped by man, but only to serve a higher purpose—to reveal the G‑dly unity within all of creation.
When we take a beautiful landscape and replace it with a cityscape, is this an abomination of G‑d’s earth? If the creation of the city will help more people live, work and function in order to better serve G‑d, then it is not an abomination but an enhancement of the earth. We must ask ourselves: does our industry contribute to greater unity and cooperation between people? Do we use our inventions to help each other or to exploit one another? And—have we built the city in the most eco-friendly and sustainable way, giving back to the earth rather than depleting it? We were given a G‑dly power to shape our environment. How we apply that power is up to us.
4. These are the generations of the heavens and the earth when they were created, on the day that the L‑rd G‑d made earth and heaven. Now no tree of the field was yet on the earth, neither did any herb of the field yet grow, because the L‑rd G‑d had not brought rain upon the earth, and there was no man to work the soil. And a mist ascended from the earth and watered the entire surface of the ground.5
These verses encapsulate the symbiotic relationship between humankind and the environment. G‑d had created the world completely, yet had not brought rain to irrigate the earth and actualize the earth’s potential. For this He awaited the creation of Adam, who would recognize the need for rain and pray for it.
It may sound strange, but in chassidic thought the rain that falls from above is a symbol of our work below.6 There is an intimate relationship between human activity and rainfall—which we have always understood in a spiritual sense, but are now just beginning to unravel in a physical sense as well. The “mist” referred to in this verse is There is an intimate relationship between human activity and rainfallour activity, our efforts to work with the world, elevate it and make it more spiritual. In return, G‑d reciprocates and “waters the entire surface of the ground,” saturating the world with His goodness.
When we pray for rain, we ask not only for precipitation but that G‑d send gishmei brachah, rains of blessing. We ask that G‑d send us rain in the right time and in the right amount. And this, indeed, depends a great deal on us. We ask that G‑d bless our endeavors. We ask for the wisdom and strength to use the resources that G‑d has given us in the proper way, in a way that respects every element of creation and reveals its G‑dly source. Then we will enjoy G‑d’s blessings and dwell peacefully on earth, sustained by G‑d’s full, open and holy hand.
Chaya Shuchat is the author of A Diamond a Day, an adaptation of the chassidic classic Hayom Yom for children, as well as many articles on the interface between Chassidism and contemporary life. She is a pediatric nurse practitioner with a master’s degree in nursing from Columbia University.

FOOTNOTES
1.Genesis 1:1.
2.Genesis 1:26.
3.Genesis 1:28.
4.See Sefer Hasichot 5751, vol. 1, pp. 80–86.
5.Genesis 2:4–6.
6.Sefer Hasichot 5752, vol. 1, p. 148.
© Copyright 2015, all rights reserved.



     Parshah 
  Tzimtzum

    The Kabbalah of Female and Male

In the beginning, a simple divine light filled the entirety of existence. . . . When there arose in His simple will the desire to create the worlds, He contracted His light, withdrawing it to the sides and leaving a void and an empty space in its center, to allow for the existence of the worlds. (However, this was not an absolute void, for there remained a residue of the divine light within the void.) He then drew a single line of His infinite light into the void to illuminate the worlds . . .
Rabbi Isaac Luria (the “Ari”)
First of all, —— will marry —— in accordance with the law of Moses and Israel. They will not hide away nor conceal anything from each other. They will live together in love and affection, as is the way of the world . . .
From the text of the tena’im (engagement contract)
A single individual, say our sages, is but “half a body.” Man seeks woman,
and woman yearns for man
For man was created in the image of G‑d, and the divine image has both a male and female aspect. As the book of Genesis states: “G‑d created man in His image, in the image of G‑d He created him; male and female He created them.”
Man was initially created “male and female”—as a “single being with two faces.” Soon after, however, G‑d separated the female side from the male, recasting them as two distinct beings, man and woman. From that point on, man seeks woman, and woman yearns for man. In marriage, the divine analogue is made whole again, as man and woman regain their original state as a single entity.

The Splitting of the Light

The separation of the female from the male, creating the tension that draws them to each other and to their ultimate reunion, is a theme that runs through the entire process of creation, all the way to its very beginnings in the primordial will of G‑d.
In the teachings of Kabbalah, the act of creation is described as an act of tzimtzum—an act of contraction, concealment and withdrawal. In the beginning, the “light” of G‑d (i.e., the manifest expression of His omnipresence and omnipotence) filled the entirety of existence. The separation of female from male creates the tension that draws them togetherA world such as ours—finite, self-defined and independent, with the capacity to turn away from and even deny its Creator—could not exist, for it would have been utterly nullified within the divine light. In order to allow for the existence of the world, G‑d “contracted” His light, creating a “void” and “empty space” within which His infinite being and power is not manifest. Into this void G‑d then allowed a single “line” (kav) of light to penetrate, through which flows a divine energy that is meted out to every level of reality in accordance with its capacity to receive it.
But the “line” is not the only source of divine energy in our world. For the withdrawal of divine light that occurred at the time of the tzimtzum was not absolute; rather, a “residue”(reshimu) of light remained within the “void.” This “residue” is the divine power of concealment and limitation (as opposed to the power of revelation and infinite expansion withdrawn by the tzimtzum). This divine energy does not contradict the existence of our finite and material word; on the contrary—it is the very source of its finiteness and materiality.
In other words, the divine light, as the expression of G‑d’s infinite power and perfection, also includes the divine capacity for finite self-expression. In the words of the Kabbalist Rabbi Meir ibn Gabbai, “Just as He possesses the power of infinity, so does He possess the power of finiteness. For should you say that He possesses the power of infinity but does not possess the power of finiteness, you are detracting from His perfection.” What to our perception was a tzimtzum—a contraction and concealment—was actually the separation of the divine power of finiteness from within the omnipotence of G‑d.
Originally, the divine light was utterly “simple” (i.e., not comprised of components or parts): the power of finiteness was not a distinct force, but simply a factor of the divine omnipotence. With the tzimtzum, the manifestation of the divine infinity was withdrawn beyond the parameters of the “void,” leaving behind the divine potential for limitation and definition, which is the source of the finiteness and definitiveness of our reality.

Conquest and Cultivation

Our purpose in life is to undo the tzimtzum—to refill the “void” with divine light. There are two ways in which this is achieved.
One way is to draw into the world the divine light that was withdrawn at the time of the tzimtzum. This means increasing the intensity of the light that flows through the “line” by gradually increasing our world’s capacity to receive it. Every time we do a mitzvah, we make the world more receptive to the divine truth, stimulating a greater infusion of infinite light via the “line.” Ultimately, the world is elevated to the point that it can receive the full intensity of the light coming from beyond the parameters of the “void,” and the area of the “void” is as saturated with the manifest presence of G‑d as it was before the tzimtzum took place.
Another way of undoing the tzimtzum is to uncover the divine light already implicit in our world. The finiteness and physicality of our world is also an expression of divine truthEvery time we exploit the very qualities that make our world “unspiritual”—its finiteness, physicality and materiality—toward a G‑dly end, we bring to light its divine essence. The “residue” of the divine light that remained behind at the time of the tzimtzum, concealed and obscured by the coarseness of the worlds and the realities that derive from it, is thereby revealed. The finiteness and physicality of our world is exposed as no less an expression of the divine truth than the infinity and spirituality that fills it from “above.”

Male and Female

The power of infinity invested in the “line” is the male element in the divine light; the power of finiteness implicit in the “residue” is its female aspect. Originally they were one, a singular expression of the omnipotence of the divine. Then came the tzimtzum, separating them into two distinct forces.
Thus the endeavor to undo the concealment of the tzimtzum includes both a “male” and a “female” dynamic. On the one hand, we strive to overcome the limitations of our existence, to break free of the confines of the material. We strive to impose a higher, spiritual truth upon our world, to infuse the infinity of G‑d into our finite lives. This is the “male” active/aggressive effort to overcome the nature of reality, to expand its frontiers, to draw in “new” G‑dliness from the outside via the “line” that links our world to the infinity of G‑d.
But there is also another aspect to our mission in life, another source of G‑dliness for our world. A source that is to be found within, in the “residue” of divine light that underlies our reality. This is the “female” endeavor to seek the divine in what is, to stimulate our inner essence instead of overwhelming it with light from without. To cultivate rather than to conquer, to be rather than to do.
Ultimately, the goal is to effect the marriage between the male and female. When the light that was withdrawn from the void is reinfused and the “residue” of light left behind is revealed, the divine light will The “female” seeks the divine in what is, to cultivate rather than to conquer, to be rather than to doagain be one. The “power of infinity” and the “power of finiteness” in our world will again constitute a singular expression of the quintessential truth of G‑d.

The Contract

According to Jewish custom, when a man and woman become engaged to marry, a contract—called tena’im (“conditions”)—is drawn up, in which the obligations of each side to the other are specified. The traditional text of the tena’im begins: “First of all, —— will marry —— in accordance with the law of Moses and Israel. They will not hide away nor conceal anything from each other. They will live together in love and affection, as is the way of the world . . .”
A marriage between two human beings is an analogue of the marriage of divine forces that is the purpose of creation. This is alluded to in the opening lines of the tena’im: the very first thing the parties promise each other (after declaring their commitment to marry each other) is that “they will not hide away nor conceal anything from each other.” Here we have the male and female elements of the cosmic marriage: that the divine light which was “hidden away” by the tzimtzum—withdrawn from the void—should be restored, and that the divine light which was “concealed” within the world should be revealed.
The achievement of these two aims will herald the era of Moshiach, when the diverse forces of creation “will live together in love and affection, as is the way of the world,” in harmony with itself and its G‑d, as envisioned by the Creator.
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.

© Copyright 2015, all rights reserved.



     Your Questions 
  Where Are the Four Rivers that Come from Eden?


Dear Rabbi,
I was talking to a friend about the creation story in the Torah, and he made mention of four rivers that extend out of the Garden of Eden. Do these rivers really exist, and if they do, do we know their exact location? If so, can we use the location of these four rivers to determine the whereabouts of the Garden of Eden?

Response:

As is the case with many other aspects of the creation account in the Torah, the discussion regarding the four rivers is shrouded in mystery.1 The descriptions given in the Torah are rather vague, and there has been much debate throughout the ages regarding their exact identity.
The text that discusses these rivers can be found in Genesis 2:10–14, and reads as follows:
A river flowed out of Eden to water the garden, and from there it separated and became four heads. The name of one is Pishon; that is the one that encompasses all the land of Havilah, where there is gold. The gold of that land is good; there is the crystal and the onyx stone. The name of the second river is Gichon; that is the one that encompasses all the land of Cush. The name of the third river is Chidekel; that is the one that flows to the east of Ashur. And the fourth river, that is Perat.
What can be clearly deduced from a cursory reading of these verses is that there exist four rivers, Pishon, Gichon, Chidekel and Perat, which all seemingly flow from the same source, the Garden of Eden.
Let’s begin with the second two, since their identification is agreed upon almost unanimously.
The name of the third river is Chidekel; that is the one that flows to the east of Ashur.
The Chidekel is widely accepted as being the Tigris River, which flows from southeastern Turkey through Iraq, and eventually spills into the Persian Gulf. Daniel describes standing on the banks of the Chidekel River while receiving one of his visions during the time when he was in exile in Babylonia.2 Clearly, the Chidekel River is in the region of ancient Babylonia, which is present-day Iraq.
Yonatan ben Uziel, a sage who lived in the Second Temple era, translates the word Chidekel into the Aramaic word Diglas.3 Even today, the Tigris is called Dicle in Turkish and Dijla in Arabic.
According to this identification, the location described in the verse, Ashur, refers to ancient Assyria, which was centered around the upper Tigris River.
And the fourth river, that is Perat.
The Perat is identified as the Euphrates River, which runs almost parallel to the Tigris. Together, these two rivers defined a large part of the Fertile Crescent, the cradle of civilization in ancient times. The name “Euphrates” is the Greek version of the Old Persian Ufrātu and the Akkadian Purattu, and even today the river is called al-Furāt in Arabic.
The Euphrates River is later mentioned in G‑d’s promise to Abraham regarding the Land of Israel, and is used as one of the defining borders of the Promised Land.4 We are also told that there was a time when Jewish civilization had spread so far that members of the tribe of Reuben were living all the way to the banks of the Euphrates!5
While these two rivers are easily identifiable and their location is readily agreed upon, the identification of the other two proves more difficult and is the subject of much debate.
The verse gives us more details regarding the Pishon River than any of the others, yet the information itself is extremely unclear:
The name of one is Pishon; that is the one that encompasses all the land of Havilah, where there is gold. And the gold of that land is good; there is the crystal and the onyx stone.
Rashi, the foremost biblical commentator, identifies the Pishon as the Nile River. The word Pishon, he explains, has the connotation of gushing forth and overflowing, and symbolizes the Nile River, which would overflow and irrigate the land of Egypt. Alternatively, the word Pishon is associated with the Hebrew word pishtan, flax, a reference to the ancient Egyptian flax industry, which was watered by the Nile River.
According to this view, the area called Havilah refers to somewhere along the Nile region, perhaps Egypt or Sudan. Egyptians were known to have mined gold and precious stones back in pre-dynastic times, especially in the region known in ancient times as Nubia, modern-day southern Egypt and Sudan.
Other commentators identify the Pishon as the Ganges River, which flows through India and Bangladesh, emptying into the Bay of Bengal.6 This view would fit well with the translation of Yonatan ben Uziel, who translates the area of Havilah as Hindki, an Aramaic translation for India. Interestingly, Josephus believed that it referred to the Indus River, which flows through India as well,7 which some connect to the present-day city of Havelian that lies on the upper Indus River, between Kashmir and Pakistan.8
The name of the second river is Gichon; that is the one that encompasses all the land of Cush.
The land of Cush is typically associated with Ethiopia, and the Gichon is therefore understood to refer to the Blue Nile. The Blue Nile begins in Lake Tana in Ethiopia and meets the White Nile in Khartoum, Sudan, where together they form one river that flows all the way to Egypt. R. David Kimchi, a 12th-century biblical commentator, explains9 that the name Gichon means “to diverge,” which symbolizes the numerous tributaries that diverge off the Blue Nile in Ethiopia.10

Where Is the Garden of Eden?

If these four rivers all flow forth from the Garden of Eden, their identification should give us some clue as to the whereabouts of the Garden. The problem is, however, that there is no central location from which all of these four rivers flow. The Euphrates and the Tigris are in the northeast region, whereas the two Nile rivers are in the southwest.
While the exact location of the Garden of Eden cannot be identified, we can infer that it is somewhere within this region, between the Nile River and the Euphrates.11 Some sources go so far as to identify the location of the Garden as being exactly 32 degrees south of Jerusalem.12 The fact that the Garden itself cannot be detected in our world does not mean that it does not take up physical space; it exists on a higher plane of reality and is therefore not detectable by our regular senses.
While the verses seemingly indicate that the rivers all flow from the same source, this is clearly not the case. It has been suggested that the Hebrew word for “separated,” יפרד, can also be understood as “lost or missing.”13 According to this approach, the river sunk into the ground at the exit of the Garden of Eden, and later reappeared at four distinct locations. The verse now reads, “A river flowed out of Eden to water the garden, and from there it was lost (sunk into the ground) and (later reemerged and) became four heads.”14
It has further been pointed out that the four rivers are referred to as four heads and not four branches, which may imply that they are not four branches of the same river, but rather four distinct riverheads.15
On a concluding note, I thought I’d share with you a spiritual interpretation regarding the four rivers, which has profound meaning and significance in our daily lives.
The Hebrew word eden means “delight and pleasure,” and is symbolic of the ultimate source of all delight and pleasure: G‑d. This G‑dly delight is then channeled into our world by way of the “river that flows from Eden,” and becomes the source for all worldly pleasures. The river splits into four heads, symbolizing the four spiritual worlds through which the river must travel before reaching this physical world.16
The responsibility of the Jew is to seek out the truth behind all of the pleasure that this world has to offer. This is done by utilizing another “garden,” the garden of the Torah. The Torah contains 53 portions,17 which is the numerical value of the Hebrew word gan, garden. By following the directives of the Torah, we can channel the pleasures of this world in service of G‑d, and reveal how they are all in truth a manifestation of the ultimate source of pleasure, G‑d Himself.18
FOOTNOTES
1.See Nachmanides to Genesis 1:1, where he writes that “the work of creation is a deep secret, and is not intelligible from the verses.”
2.Daniel 10:4.
3.See Targum Yonatan ben Uziel to Genesis 2:14.
4.Genesis 15:18.
5.I Chronicles 5:9.
6.See Abarbanel to Genesis 2:10.
7.Antiquities of the Jews 1:1:3.
8.R. Aryeh Kaplan, Living Torah to Genesis 2:10.
9.Radak to Genesis 2:13.
10.See Rabbi Aaron Marcus, Keset HaSofer, who has a different approach to identifying all four of these rivers.
11.See Nachmanides to Genesis 3:22, and Tosafot to Talmud, Bava Batra 84a.
12.Maamarei Admor ha-Emtza’i (Discourses of the Mittler Rebbe), Vayikra, vol. 2, p. 703.
13.See, for example, Psalms 92:10 and Job 4:11.
14.Daat Mikra Atlas.
15.Commentary of R. Samson Raphael Hirsch to Genesis 2:10.
16.Sefer ha-Maamarim 5737, pp. 53–54.
17.Although there are actually 54 portions in the Torah, the portions of Nitzavim and Vayelech are deemed one portion split into two. See Siddur R. Saadiah Gaon, Keriat ha-Torah, and Chida, Shem ha-Gedolim, Maarechet Sefarim, letter Gimmel. For an elaboration on the spiritual significance of this idea, see Likutei Sichot, vol. 19, p. 298.
18.Sefer ha-Maamarim 5717, p. 236.
© Copyright 2015, all rights reserved.
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MULTIMEDIA

Life Lessons from Parshat Bereishit
Rabbi Gordon shares five inspirational lessons we derive from the Torah portion of Bereishit.
By Yehoshua B. Gordon
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Lifestyle 
  Purple Cabbage & Apple Salad with Lemon Tahini Dressing

    

After a month of Jewish holidays—and all the eating that inevitably goes along with them—I’m sure lots of us are ready for some lighter eating. This vibrant, delicious salad will leave you feeling healthy and satisfied. You can also add some chopped chicken or flaked fish over the top to make it more filling.

You’ll need purple cabbage, parsley, red apple, sunflower seeds and slivered almonds. The colors along are enough to entice the palate—look how beautiful! Toss the ingredients together and set aside while you prepare the dressing.

Make sure to wash and check the cabbage and parsley for bugs.
The dressing requires tahini—the kind you find in the refrigerator section. Or, if you buy the paste, buy the seasoned one, prepare it according to the directions, and then measure out 6 tablespoons to use for the dressing and continue from there.
Mix the tahini with salt, honey, lemon juice and garlic powder. Use immediately or store in the fridge for later. It keeps well for a good 2 weeks.
Drizzle the dressing over the salad immediately before serving.

Salad Ingredients

  • 1.5 lbs. purple cabbage, shredded
  • ¼ cup loosely packed parsley
  • 1 red apple (I prefer Fuji or Gala), sliced
  • 3 tbsp. roasted, salted sunflower seeds
  • 3 tbsp. honeyed almond slivers (or whole almonds, if you can’t find the slivered ones)

Dressing Ingredients

  • 6 tbsp. tahini*
  • ½ tsp. kosher salt
  • 1 tbsp. fresh lemon juice
  • 1 tsp. honey
  • ⅛ tsp. garlic powder
* Note: This dressing calls for prepared tahini—the kind you would find in the refrigerator section.

Directions

  1. Toss salad ingredients together.
  2. Combine dressing ingredients in a small bowl.
  3. Immediately before serving, drizzle dressing over salad. Mix.

What are your go-to healthy meals?
Miriam Szokovski is the author of the 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 
  Constant Creation

    
Acrylic on Stretched Canvas
Acrylic on Stretched Canvas
Artist’s Statement: G‑d’s creation, the world and its inhabitants, can be likened to a light bulb. Just as a light bulb requires a constant flow of electricity to remain lit, every creation needs a direct flow of energy from G‑d in order to simply be.
Through His “cord,” G‑d maintains His connection to us, constantly recreating us so that we can reciprocate and connect to Him.
This painting represents the constant connection between G‑d and us, and us and G‑d.
Sarah Chaya Elisha is an artist and teacher who, in addition to creating original Jewish art, gives art classes to women and children with whom she shares the creative process.

© Copyright 2015, all rights reserved.



     Jewish News 
  Simchat Torah: The Joy of Dancing With, Reading and Learning From The Torah Anew

    

Rejoicing with the Torah: The holiday of Simchat Torah begins on the evening of Monday, Oct. 5, and in Israel, on Sunday night. (Photo: Levi Nazarov/Moscow)
Rejoicing with the Torah: The holiday of Simchat Torah begins on the evening of Monday, Oct. 5, and in Israel, on Sunday night. (Photo: Levi Nazarov/Moscow)
It’s human nature to prefer beginnings to ends. But each year, the Jewish people get to experience both in one fell swoop as they get to see, quite literally, where the Torah reading stops, and then starts, all over again.
For many, the holiday of Simchat Torah calls to mind childhood memories of dancing in the presence of the Torah, of reveling until the wee hours of the night and of feeling exultant in a way that’s unique to the holiday.
Simchat Torah is celebrated from the evening of Monday, Oct. 5 to nightfall on Tuesday, Oct. 6, following the holiday of Shemini Atzeret, which begins Sunday Oct 4 at sunset. (In Israel, Shemini Atzeret and Simchat Torah are celebrated together, beginning Sunday night.)
For others, there are very distinct recollections.
Rabbi Zalmen Drizin, 39, remembers back to the year 1987, when he was growing up in the Crown Heights neighborhood of Brooklyn, N.Y. He spent Simchat Torah at 770 Eastern Parkway, the headquarters of the worldwide Chabad-Lubavitch movement.
“I used to distribute food and drinks to the older students and the rabbis,” he explains, in a room packed with thousands of people pitched towards the front, towards the Rebbe—Rabbi Menachem M. Schneerson, of righteous memory. “Everyone was standing up; people were hanging from the walls. You could barely breathe, it was so hot. The crowd was singing, dancing, shaking. I was in awe of the self-sacrifice of all those people just watching the Rebbe.
“I brought one man a 2-liter bottle of soda. I thought he was going to pour some in a cup or take a sip, and instead, he drank the whole thing, gulped it down in seconds. There was such intense dancing and joy—and that heat. He was simply dehydrated.
“Years later, I bumped into him. I recognized that man right away, and recalled that moment.”

‘A Difference in People’s Lives’


Rabbi Zalmen Drizin, co-director of Chabad of Kings Highway in Brooklyn, N.Y.
Rabbi Zalmen Drizin, co-director of Chabad of Kings Highway in Brooklyn, N.Y.
Drizin is co-director of Chabad of Kings Highway in Brooklyn with his wife, Frumie. They hold an annual Simchat Torah event that attracts about 50 people—a mix of American Jewish singles and married mid-agers, as well as young Russian Jews and others in the neighborhood of Flatbush.
And while their work may be on the smaller scale, it is no less effective.
For example, he heard from a middle-aged man who spent Rosh Hashanah with the Drizins. In an email, he wrote: “Rabbi, many wonderful and unexpected events have happened since. It is amazing and caused some tears and emotions. Indeed, I think Hashem wants this year to be the best year for me . . . I am overwhelmed with joy. I think much of this was caused by your spirit, your kindness and prayers.”
Even before that, Drizin describes a newly married man who came to a farbrengen, an informal gathering, before Rosh Hashanah. (Frumie Drizin held one for women as well.) He had taken on the daily mitzvah of putting on tefillin and because that was going so well (“so strong—strong enough that it seems too easy,” the man emailed to him) wanted to do more. “Any suggestions on what other mitzvah I might be able to take upon myself that’s along these lines?” he asked.
“You touch one person at a time,” says Drizin. “It’s spiritual work; you work to make a difference in people’s lives.”
Simchat Torah, however, offers an opportunity to involve Jews en masse.
“This is the time you celebrate being Jewish. What other time of the year do you dance because you’re a Jew? When do you have that, such an amazing dance? The holiday involves no calamity, no Egypt, no Haman. The only reason we’re dancing is because we’re happy to be a Jewish people. We are literally tapping into ourselves in celebration, being proud to be a Jew.”
The recently opened Chabad on the Coast in Tel Aviv will host a Simchat Torah celebration geared to English-speaking students and residents. Do-it-yourself artwork was a theme of their Sukkah party.
The recently opened Chabad on the Coast in Tel Aviv will host a Simchat Torah celebration geared to English-speaking students and residents. Do-it-yourself artwork was a theme of their Sukkah party.

Shemittah and the Hakhel Year


Jewish men, women and children will rejoice on Simchat Torah at programs large and small, in cities and remote areas in the more than 80 countries around the world with a Chabad-Lubavitch presence.
The holiday follows on the heels of Sukkot. First comes Shemini Atzeret, “the eighth (day) of retention.” The Chassidic masters explain that the primary purpose of the festival is to retain and “conceive” the spiritual revelations and powers granted during the festivals of the month of Tishrei, so that they could be applied throughout the year. The “Four Kinds” or Four Species” are not taken on Shemini Atzeret. Jews still eat in thesukkah, according to the custom of most communities, but without making the special blessing on the sukkah. On the second day of Shemini Atzeret (the ninth day from the beginning of Sukkot), it’s back to eating at home.
In Israel, Shemini Atzeret and Simchat Torah comprise one holiday; in the Diaspora, it’s celebrated over two days.
Simchat Torah (“rejoicing with the Torah”) is characterized by unbridled joy, which surpasses even the joy of Sukkot, and reaches its apex when those gather to celebrate the conclusion—and the restart—of the annual Torah-reading cycle. During the hakafot procession, Jews march, sing and dance with the Torah scrolls in and even outside of the synagogue. “On Simchat Torah,” goes the Chassidic saying, “we rejoice in the Torah, and the Torah rejoices in us; the Torah, too, wants to dance, so we become the Torah’s dancing feet.”
Celebrating the Torah comes in other forms as well.
In the past few weeks, 16 locations in various parts of the world received Torahs on short- and long-term loan, repaired by and sent out from the Beis Yisroel Torah Gemach, a project of Merkos Suite 302 in Brooklyn. Among the beneficiaries were Chabad of Chengdo China and the Federal Correction Facility in Danbury, Conn. American states that got them included Oklahoma, Kansas, Missouri and Florida.
Getting ready to dance with the Torah. (Photo: Beis Torah Gemach)
Getting ready to dance with the Torah. (Photo: Beis Torah Gemach)
As the Torahs come out—and the sukkahs come down—Chabad Houses are also planning for the Hakhel year, a time for Jews to gather together as one community in this Shemittah (sabbatical) year.
In Israel, a “one-plus-one” campaign, for instance, encourages Jewish individuals to bring a friend or colleague with them to events, according to Rabbi Eliyahu Naiditch, co-director of the burgeoning Chabad on the Coast in Tel Aviv with his wife, Sara. The first nationwide ceremony of Hakhelin what would become the modern state of Israel was held 70 years ago during Sukkot of 1945, the year following the sabbatical year.
“We also are working on music events, and big Shabbat and holiday gatherings geared towards young professionals, lone soldiers and new immigrants (olim) who are here in Tel Aviv,” he says.
As far as Simchat Torah, they are expecting about 100 people, with the weather expected to be a balmy 70 degrees.
The Rebbe repeatedly encouraged all Jews to utilize this auspicious time to assemble—men, women and children—and encourage each other to increase in Torah observance and study.
Simchat Torah is characterized by unbridled joy. (Photo: Beis Torah Gemach)
Simchat Torah is characterized by unbridled joy. (Photo: Beis Torah Gemach)
The Rebbe particularly encouraged these assemblies on or around Sukkot, when the Hakhel gathering took place in the Holy Temple, but the entire year is a “Hakhel Year” and an opportune time to promote Jewish unity.
To that end, Naiditch’s Chabad held an art-and-wine sukkah party on Thursday night that drew numerous young professionals and olim. “It’s amazing how many English speakers we are meeting who were close to their Chabad back in the States or in different countries,” he says, “and then they came here and could not find an English-speaking Chabad House. We are here to fill that gap.”
For information on Simchat Torah and Shemini Atzeret services, events and celebrations, see here. For information on Hakhel year gatherings, see here.
© Copyright 2015, all rights reserved.



     Jewish News 
  Two Men Killed, Woman and Baby Injured in Old City Jerusalem Stabbing Attack

    

A man carries a baby injured in a knifing attack in the Old City of Jerusalem. A Jewish family and a second man were stabbed while walking near the Lion's Gate. (Photo: Yonatan Sindel/Flash90)
A man carries a baby injured in a knifing attack in the Old City of Jerusalem. A Jewish family and a second man were stabbed while walking near the Lion's Gate. (Photo: Yonatan Sindel/Flash90)
JERUSALEM—Two men were killed, and a woman and child were injured on Saturday evening in a terror attack in Jerusalem’s Old City.
The victims were identified as Rabbi Nehemia Lavie, 41, of Jerusalem, and Aharon Benet, 22, of Beitar Ilit. Benet’s wife was in serious condition after undergoing surgery in Hadassah Ein Kerem Hospital. Their 2-year-old child was lightly injured in the attack and is being treated at Sha’arei Tzedek Medical Center.
The incident began around 7:30 p.m., police reported, when a knife-wielding terrorist attacked the couple and their toddler son as they walked past the Lion’s Gate on their way to the Western Wall. He then attacked Lavie.
A fifth male victim, who is in his 20s, was lightly wounded.
The terrorist then took a pistol from one of the victims and began firing wildly into a crowd of tourists before border-police officers on patrol nearby shot and killed him.
The terrorist was identified as Muhammad Shafeq Halabi, 19, from al Bireh, near Ramallah. Palestinian Islamic Jihad claimed responsiblity for the attack. Hamas issued a statement that praised the “heroic operation.”
Lavie, an Old City resident who taught at the Ateret Cohanim Yeshiva, leaves behind a wife and seven children. His funeral is scheduled to take place on Sunday at noon at Har Hamenuchot cemetery.
Aharon Benet, 22, of Beitar Ilit, left, and Rabbi Nehemia Levi, 41 of Jerusalem, were killed in the attack.
Aharon Benet, 22, of Beitar Ilit, left, and Rabbi Nehemia Levi, 41 of Jerusalem, were killed in the attack.
This article was published in Jerusalem after the conclusion of the Sabbath.
© Copyright 2015, all rights reserved.



     Jewish News 
  Thousands at Jerusalem Funeral of Samaria Couple Murdered by Terrorists

    

An enormous crowd gathers at the Har Hamenuchot cemetery in Jerusalem to pay their last respects to Rabbi Eitam and Na’ama Henken, who were murdered by terrorists on Thursday night. (Photo: Gush Etzion Regional Council)
An enormous crowd gathers at the Har Hamenuchot cemetery in Jerusalem to pay their last respects to Rabbi Eitam and Na’ama Henken, who were murdered by terrorists on Thursday night. (Photo: Gush Etzion Regional Council)
JERUSALEM—More than 10,000 Israelis and visitors from around the world who are in Israel for the Sukkot holiday week gathered at the Har Hamenuchot cemetery today to pay their last respects to Rabbi Eitam and Na’ama Henkin, who were murdered on Thursday night by terrorists in Samaria.
The couple, who were in their 30s, and their four children were ambushed between the settlements of Itamar and Elon Moreh while driving home from a yeshivah event in Hebron. Both were shot numerous times and were pronounced dead when medics arrived.
The children—ages 9, 7, 4 and an infant—witnessed the attack but were physically unharmed.
Eitam Henkin’s mother, Chana Henkin, the founder of the Nishmat Institute for Advanced Jewish Studies in Jerusalem, said that the grandparents would raise the children as their own.
Israeli President Reuven Rivlin and Jerusalem Mayor Nir Barkat joined others who eulogized the couple as dedicated, loving parents.
According to the Hebrew daily Ma’ariv, a group affiliated with Palestinian Authority President Mahmoud Abbas’ Fatah faction took responsibility for the attack. A wide-ranging search for the terrorists is underway.
Rabbi Eitam and Na'ama Henkin (Photo: Channel 2 News)
Rabbi Eitam and Na'ama Henkin (Photo: Channel 2 News)
© Copyright 2015, all rights reserved.


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