Editor's Note:
Dear Friend,
Not all actions were created equal.
I have a friend who recently began putting on tefillin. Every morning, with great concentration, he would strap the tefillin on his hand and his head. Then he would soar like an angel as he made his way through the prayer service.
Then it happened. A week became a month, and a month became a year, and it was no longer exciting. The tefillin lost their sparkle, and the prayers lost some of their luster.
What is he to do?
The first thing to remember is that a mitzvah is still a mitzvah, even if we are not super-inspired by it. Still, the tendency to become accustomed to our daily routine is something we can and must overcome. How?
Study Chassidic teachings.
Try it and you will see that you will be more in tune with your soul, more open to seeing the inner beauty of the mitzvahs and more sensitive to the G‑dly rhythm behind our universe.
We are now celebrating 19 Kislev, when the first Chabad rebbe was release from a Czarist prison and then began publicizing Chassidic teachings more widely than ever before. It is considered the Chassidic Rosh Hashanah, the “New Year” of Chassidism. If you can use a good dose of inspiration, I think I know what your New Year’s resolution is going to be!
Rabbi Mendy Kaminker
on behalf of the Chabad.org Editorial Team
PS Looking for some texts to start with? You can find a wealth of texts here and lots of classes for every level here.
Snake Poison
Without its poison, the snake is no more and no less than any other of G‑d’s creatures.
Whether it be the snake of hatred, of greed, of indifference, of jealousy, of pride—of any foul aspect of human character—they are only evil because of their poison, the poison of “I am here.”
Because when “I am here,” there is no room for any other being in the world to be here.
Without the “I am here” even jealousy and pride can be glorious animals; even they can drive a person towards greater good.
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This Week's Features:
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Vayeishev
19 Kislev
Light, Life and Selflessness
By Mendel Rubin
Two pithy lines were repeated by beloved teachers and relived by those who heard them each and every year.
How to Celebrate Your Birthday Twice
By Chana Weisberg
Your Questions
Is Judaism a Cult?
By Aron Moss
I have nothing against religion, but could it be that religious Judaism is a cult? I bumped into an old classmate who has become totally religious. After speaking to her, I felt that she is brainwashed . . .
Why Can’t I Use an Electric Menorah?
By Yehuda Shurpin
I was in a bit of a hurry so I didn’t get into it, but I would still like to know, what is the story with electric menorahs?
Women
Of Kapotehs, Ladders and Crazy, Lit-up Rabbis
By Chana Gittle Deray
After years of watching these and other animated, enthusiastic rabbis, with their interesting and industrious ways of approaching holidays—and every day, for that matter—I have learned that sometimes it’s me who is missing a tune.
An Adult Daughter Muses as She Visits Her Childhood Home
By Batya Schochet Lisker
Was I really returning home, or just to the memories of what once was?
Fiction
The Dream of Life
By Eli Landes
You're dreaming, dreaming the dream of life, and you're so deep in the dream you can't even tell it’s not real.
Parshah
How Joseph Maintained His Serenity
By Rochel Holzkenner
Joseph was in tune with another person’s pain, and was therefore capable of doing that one small act of goodness and kindness. Little did he know that it would change the world.
Tamar’s Twins
By Menachem Feldman
Whenever the Torah describes the birth of twins, it goes into minute detail, as if we are the grandparents who are anxious to hear about every step of the labor and delivery. Why?
Where Are Jews Truly At Home?
By Lazer Gurkow
Europe was our home, but we were never at home there.
Chanukah Essay
Stop the Dreidel!
By Naftali Silberberg
Each component of a Jewish holiday was put in place in accordance with the particular holiday's singular message. So, where does that leave the traditional dreidel game?
Lifestyle
How to Decorate Doughnuts Like a Pro
By Miriam Szokovski
Of course you need a good, fluffy dough, but let's face it—a huge part of doughnuts is the decorating. There's good old powdered sugar, but there are also all kinds of glazes, sprinkles and other toppings.
Jewish News
When a Little Boy in Hawaii Chose Between Soccer and Kippah
By Menachem Posner
Ref’s call to remove religious attire leads to an educational conclusion for all.
A Whirlwind Trip of a Lifetime at Wedding of Grieving Couple
By Sarah Leah Lawent
It was a victory over terror for an orphaned bride as college students and visitors from abroad joined thousands at her wedding in Jerusalem.
In the Frigid Calm After the Storm, Spokane Rabbi Sets an Example
By Faygie Levy Holt
The power was out and trees were down, but he kept people's mood warm and up.
Worldwide Events to Mark ‘the New Year of Chassidism’ in This Hakhel Year
By Menachem Posner
Farbrengens and special commemorations throughout the week.
Chabad.org Magazine - Editor: Yanki Tauber © Copyright 2015, all rights reserved.
Vayeishev
19 Kislev
Light, Life and Selflessness
By Mendel Rubin
Two pithy lines were repeated by beloved teachers and relived by those who heard them each and every year.
How to Celebrate Your Birthday Twice
By Chana Weisberg
Your Questions
Is Judaism a Cult?
By Aron Moss
I have nothing against religion, but could it be that religious Judaism is a cult? I bumped into an old classmate who has become totally religious. After speaking to her, I felt that she is brainwashed . . .
Why Can’t I Use an Electric Menorah?
By Yehuda Shurpin
I was in a bit of a hurry so I didn’t get into it, but I would still like to know, what is the story with electric menorahs?
Women
Of Kapotehs, Ladders and Crazy, Lit-up Rabbis
By Chana Gittle Deray
After years of watching these and other animated, enthusiastic rabbis, with their interesting and industrious ways of approaching holidays—and every day, for that matter—I have learned that sometimes it’s me who is missing a tune.
An Adult Daughter Muses as She Visits Her Childhood Home
By Batya Schochet Lisker
Was I really returning home, or just to the memories of what once was?
Fiction
The Dream of Life
By Eli Landes
You're dreaming, dreaming the dream of life, and you're so deep in the dream you can't even tell it’s not real.
Parshah
How Joseph Maintained His Serenity
By Rochel Holzkenner
Joseph was in tune with another person’s pain, and was therefore capable of doing that one small act of goodness and kindness. Little did he know that it would change the world.
Tamar’s Twins
By Menachem Feldman
Whenever the Torah describes the birth of twins, it goes into minute detail, as if we are the grandparents who are anxious to hear about every step of the labor and delivery. Why?
Where Are Jews Truly At Home?
By Lazer Gurkow
Europe was our home, but we were never at home there.
Chanukah Essay
Stop the Dreidel!
By Naftali Silberberg
Each component of a Jewish holiday was put in place in accordance with the particular holiday's singular message. So, where does that leave the traditional dreidel game?
Lifestyle
How to Decorate Doughnuts Like a Pro
By Miriam Szokovski
Of course you need a good, fluffy dough, but let's face it—a huge part of doughnuts is the decorating. There's good old powdered sugar, but there are also all kinds of glazes, sprinkles and other toppings.
Jewish News
When a Little Boy in Hawaii Chose Between Soccer and Kippah
By Menachem Posner
Ref’s call to remove religious attire leads to an educational conclusion for all.
A Whirlwind Trip of a Lifetime at Wedding of Grieving Couple
By Sarah Leah Lawent
It was a victory over terror for an orphaned bride as college students and visitors from abroad joined thousands at her wedding in Jerusalem.
In the Frigid Calm After the Storm, Spokane Rabbi Sets an Example
By Faygie Levy Holt
The power was out and trees were down, but he kept people's mood warm and up.
Worldwide Events to Mark ‘the New Year of Chassidism’ in This Hakhel Year
By Menachem Posner
Farbrengens and special commemorations throughout the week.
Chabad.org Magazine - Editor: Yanki Tauber © Copyright 2015, all rights reserved.
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By Yehuda Shurpin
Women
Of Kapotehs, Ladders and Crazy, Lit-up Rabbis By Chana Gittle Deray
Illustration by Sefira Ross.
It was a typical Tuesday in suburbia—not an Election Day, not a recycling day, and not any other Tuesday of great significance.
Or so I thought.
I had driven over to Miriam’s house, a warm and wonderful place to go for a cup of tea and some lively conversation. We were doing what we often did on a weekday, standing in her hallway chatting, with our children hard at play nearby, when in walked her husband, wearing a kapoteh (Chassidic frock coat) and a very lit-up smile. He continued up the steps, greeting us with a hearty, joy-filled, sing-song: “Gut Yom Tov,gut Yom Tov! (Good holiday!)” What could have gotten into this rabbi now?
This was the rabbi whose overly inspired voice I heard each evening as I picked up the phone during what my friend Nechami calls “happy hour”—when children are busy with all the creative and wondrous things they do before tiring out themselves and everything around themWhat could have gotten into this rabbi now? for the evening. He would ask with such joy-filled enthusiasm, “Can your husband make the minyan (quorum of ten men for prayer)?” You would have thought he was inviting my husband to a party for a king.
As far as it being a Yom Tov? I may not have been aware of all the details of living as a religious Jew back then, but I was pretty sure that if it were Yom Tov, I would have known about it. Miriam and I paused our conversation, returned the rabbi’s curious greeting—Miriam looking a little apologetic—and watched in silence as the lit-up rabbi disappeared down the hallway. I couldn’t help but think, Man . . . he is SO over the top! Of course it’s Yom Tov on his planet today. In fact, I bet it’s always Yom Tov on his planet. This rabbi should not be let out of the house unless under proper supervision.
And this was not the only rabbi we had met from the over-the-top rabbi department.
There was another wonderful, although slightly distracted, rabbi that we became close with at the time. With that same look of joy and selfless love in his eyes, this rabbi would build this fantastically oversized menorah at a gas station that looked out onto a major intersection where three towns met. It was truly awe-inspired.
We would bring our children after dark on Chanukah to the Shell gas station to watch. Up and down the ladder went the determined rabbi, with a blowtorch in hand, lighting large oil lanterns, in spite of rain, wind or anything else G‑d would send his way. We stood nearby—his wife and their children, us and our children, our necks craned, mouths open, noses running—the perfect rent-a-crowd. Up and down the ladder to the enormous menorah he went, hoping to reach out to any Jew who happened to drive by. What a sight. After finally getting the torches to stay lit, he would recite the prayers in a calm and splendidly beautiful voice. Then, while still on the ladder and holding his torch, he would prepare to sing. We stood by with great anticipation as he opened his mouth to sing the first line of “Maoz Tzur (Rock of Ages),” when he belted out in a hardy voice “Haneirot Halalu.”
Now, any rabbi worth his weight in chocolate coins knows that everyone sings “Rock of Ages” after lighting the menorah! And if you are not going to sing “Rock of Ages,” how about “Hatikvah,” or a little “Havah Nagilah”? We looked up at him, singing with such heartfelt sincerity after all his hard work up and down the ladder, using his remaining strength on this odd, little tune, and thought, Where in the world did the rabbi get this song from? If he wants to start drawing a crowd out here, he’s going to have to learn the traditional tunes.
After years of watching these and other animated, enthusiastic rabbis, with their interesting and industrious ways of approaching holidays—and every day, for that matter—I have learned that sometimes it’s me who is missing a tune.
As it turns out, the odd little song the rabbi insisted on singing after lighting his majestic menorah, “Haneirot Halalu,” is a beautifully powerful and traditional song that tells us why we light the candles, their meaning, and all about the miracle of the lights. I have learned to sing “Haneirot Halalu” as heartily as any rabbi on a ladder, hitting its low, low notes and all, but even more wonderful is that my family now sings it with great, joyful chaos by the light of their own menorahs and lit-up smiles.
I have also learned that Miriam’s husband actually was inviting my husband to a party for a king each night—our King, G‑d, who rejoices in hearing from us three times a day with extra pleasure when we call with a group of ten men.
And about that random Tuesday . . . it turns out that it was not so random after all. It was Yud-Tes Kislev, the day that Rabbi Schneur Zalman of Liadi, known as the Alter Rebbe, was released from prison in a string of miraculous events that allowed him to continue spreading the wellsprings of Chassidut and preparing the world for Moshiach’s coming. Not only was it a Yom Tov, but it was a truly great and important one! Who knew?Turns out it was not so random after all
But now, I‘ve got it. In fact, I’ve got it so bad that I also walk around on Yud-Tes Kislev wishing heartfelt “Good Yom Tov’s” and talking to complete strangers about doing mitzvahs and bringing light into the world.
I am grateful to Miriam’s husband, the Shell gas station rabbi, and the many over-the-top rabbis who wear kapotehs on random Tuesdays and sing odd little songs while standing on ladders with torches while it rains—rabbis who welcome every Jew with warmth and an open heart, no matter how little we yet know or do, and despite how awfully know-it-all we can be.
A little knowledge can be a dangerous thing, but being a little “lit-up” can dispel a lot of darkness.
Chana Gittle Deray is an inspirational speaker and writer best known for her warm humor—with a strong purpose. Her popular work gives women a reason to laugh, while exploring the many tools G-d has given them to build strength and joy. For more of her writing, visit her blog.© Copyright 2015, all rights reserved.
Women
An Adult Daughter Muses as She Visits Her Childhood Home By Batya Schochet Lisker
Illustration by Sefira Ross
Standing in the slow-moving customs queue in the Toronto airport, waiting to have my passport checked, I thought of the famous adage “You can’t go home again” coined by author Thomas Wolfe. It was Sunday, Rosh Hashanah eve, and I was headed to my childhood home to spend Yom Tov with my parents. As an adult with grown children of my own, coming home for the holidays is both comforting and nostalgic. Was I really returning home or just to the memories of what once was?
“You can’t go home again” has become a commonly used idiom to mean that once you have left your provincial, backwater hometown for a sophisticated metropolis, you cannot return to the narrow confines of yourWas I really returning home?previous, conservative, simple way of life. It suggests that people permanently outgrow their upbringing when they carve out an independent adult life.
But it is also wistful, romanticizing the simplicity of childhood. Because the phrase implies that you really wish you could go home again—back home to your family, back home to your childhood ... away from all the strife and conflict of the world ... back home to the old forms and systems, which once seemed everlasting but are changing all the time. As Bob Seger sang, “I wish I didn’t know now what I didn’t know then.” We yearn to return to an innocence lost, a place that has ceased to exist.
Leaving the airport, I drove the familiar streets of my native town, and realized that it is surprisingly disconcerting to find myself so simultaneously in my element and out of it. I never stop thinking of Toronto as home, in the fundamental sense of the term. It’s where I come from, what I really understand, the yardstick against which all else is measured.
Even before the heavy wooden door of home clanged open, I heard my parents excitedly calling my name in welcome, and I was enveloped in the mouth-watering smells of my mother’s signature Yom Tov dishes emanating from the kitchen, unexpectedly flooding me with detailed and arousing reminisces.
Absorbed sights, sounds, smells, nurturing feelings, beloved faces, fragments of experiences remain indelibly impressed on the mind long after the full reality is lost to oblivion, forming our memories. Sacred memories that paint portraits on our souls, lifelong companions that sustain us for the rest of our lives and guide us to new levels of seeing, feeling, perceiving and being.
Joseph, who evolved to greatness while alone in a foreign land, garnered the necessary strength to remain true to his identity because he saw the image of his father Jacob in his mind. And in accessing his experiences with his father, Joseph saw his roots, his foundation, his own image, his own potential.
It is our memories that sustain us, that connect us to our roots. But if we’re lucky to still have our parents with us, we can and should continue to develop that relationship in the present. Many of us, including myself, spend our lives lounging in the safe confines of the parent-child relationship we knew in the past, never challenging the way we communicate with the people who created us. That is, perhaps, until we start to feel that familiar safety net is becoming threatened, until we grasp that our parents will not be around forever.I was glad to be in the moment
I was glad to be in the moment this Rosh Hashanah with my parents. As Yom Tov began, the world slowed down, and distractions disappeared. In every mundane interaction, my parents’ beauty and goodness shone, and I basked in their warmth, their nurturing, their undivided attention, replenishing the treasure house of my memories. I look forward to “going home again” while I still can.
As my plane circled before landing at LaGuardia, I pondered the value of memories—they cannot be overstated, and their implications are far greater than I can imagine. I disembarked surprisingly refreshed and strengthened, determined to live up to my best self.
For all of our history adds up to what we are—or what, at least, we are always trying our best to be.
Batya Schochet Lisker is the founding principal of Bais Chana Chabad Girls' High School of Los Angeles, current executive assistant to Rabbi Yehuda Krinsky of Chabad World Headquarters in New York, and program administrator of the Machne Israel Development Fund Early Childhood Initiative.© Copyright 2015, all rights reserved.
Fiction
The Dream of Life By Eli Landes
Illustration by Sefira Ross.
“Life is a dream.”
I looked up from my speech as my best friend, Mike, sat down across from me. “What?”
“The title of my new screenplay. 'Life is a Dream.' It's an allegorical film arguing that all of life is just an illusion and a dream, making our struggles and goals futile.”
“Interesting. Depressing, but interesting. Isn't there already a play with that title?”
Mike sighed. “Yeah. I have to work on that. Maybe I'll change the name somewhat. Anyway, I'm pretty excited about the idea. Take your speech, for example. In a dream, you wouldn't bother working hard on a speech, because it wouldn't matter. No matter what you do, you can't achieve anything in a dream. So, if life is a dream, your writing this speech is pointless—because it's not real.”
I smiled sardonically at him. “Thank you, Mikey. That's always what someone wants to hear right before a big presentation—that it's all pointless anyway. Look, I'd like to discuss this more with you—later. Right now, I've got to work on my speech.”
______________________________________
“Is the banter always part of the dream?”
The question brought me back to the present, and, instead of answering, I took a moment to gaze around the room. We were seated in a small room, pristine and neat, with our chairs, a bookshelf against the far wall, and an antique clock its only furnishings. The sparseness of the room lent it a professional air; an observer would describe it as efficient, or clinical, but not comfortable.
Dr. Cooper, seated across from me, repeated her question.
“Sorry, Doctor. Um . . . I guess so, more or less. The exact dialogue changes, depending on the dream. Some nights we talk more about Mike's screenplay, sometimes less. But the dream always starts the same way. I'm working on something important—a speech, this time, other times a proposal or a book—and Mike approaches me and declares that . . . life is a dream.”
Dr. Cooper nodded. “Interesting. In this dream, how similar is the dream version of you to the real you?”
“In some ways, pretty similar. In others, not at all. In the dream, I'm on the verge of success but not quite there. I'm just finishing the touches of something that will make me big—my first book, or, last night, my first public speech before some committee. The details of what I'm working on or who it’s for are usually pretty vague. Anyway, when the dream starts, I'm just finishing up.”
“OK. Let's take last night's dream, when you were writing a speech. What happened next?”
_____________________________________
“Great speech.”
“Really, absolutely phenomenal. The way you explained the concepts involved—”
“I have to agree. I've never heard these ideas expressed so eloquently.”
I nodded and smiled, allowing myself to bask in the glow of their praise. Seeing Mike approaching, I excused myself and headed towards him. “So, what did you think?”
“Well, buddy, I didn't understand a word, so I think that means it was pretty good. How do you feel?”
“I . . . don't know. I should feel good, but to be honest I don't really feel anything. Isn't that odd?”
“No. It's just like I was saying—life is a dream. No, don't roll your eyes. Listen to me for a moment. You know when you have a dream, and you're really trying to reach something, but you can't? Like there's this big banquet you want to eat, and you spend the whole dream trying to eat it, but you never do? It's like that. You're not satisfied with your accomplishments because you didn't really accomplish anything. It's like you're dreaming—nothing you do is real.”
“OK, seriously, Mikey, cut it out with the dream stuff. You're bumming me out.”
“Prove me wrong, then. What did you just speak about?”
I started to answer him but found my mind oddly foggy, the details of my speech slipping from recollection. “I'm tired right now, Mikey, I don't want to—don't smile like that! This is ridiculous, Mike. The fact that I can't remember my speech does not prove anything—I mean, come on! Don't you think I'd know if I was dreaming?”
Mike leaned forward, his look oddly intent. “No, I don't. Have you ever had a dream and wondered to yourself if it was real? So, you decide to test it out. You touch the wall, or try to wake up. Sometimes, you realize it is a dream, and you do wake up. Other times, however, you don't, and become convinced the dream is real. It's only when youwake up that you realize it was a dream. That's what this is. You're dreaming, dreaming the dream of life, and you're so deep in the dream you can't even tell it’s not real. But you need to stop dreaming. You need to. Wake. Up.”
____________________________________
“And that, every night, is when I wake up.”
Dr. Cooper nodded. “Well, psychology generally advocates not paying too much attention to dreams, but since this is a recurring dream and one that bothers you, I think it's worth discussing. What do you suppose it means?”
“Well, I'm struggling right now, career-wise. I'm not really sure which path to take. Maybe the dream is my subconscious self telling me that I'm on the wrong road—that my life is without purpose. Maybe the idea is that, if I continue down this road, I'll look back, years later, and struggle to find meaning in my actions.”
“Perhaps. And, as I've already mentioned, we have to be cautious about assigning too much meaning to dreams. But, if I may, I'd like to suggest a different explanation. At the end of your dream, your friend—Mike, right?—well, he compares life to a dream that you've convinced yourself is reality. If you think about it, however, dreams are real, at least on a lesser scale. What you're dreaming is taking place—inside your mind. Just not physically. When you wake up, you wake up to the physical reality. Compared to that, dreams seem illusory and unimportant.
“Your dream, I think, is arguing that life is the same. It's real, but there's a greater truth—a greater reality—that makes life seem like a dream in comparison.”
I stared at her. “Huh? What on earth does that mean?”
The sound of knocking interrupted us.
Dr. Cooper glanced at her watch. “I'd really like to continue this further, but my next appointment is here. Perhaps I can see you another time?”
I shook my head, unsatisfied with her answer. I tried to ask her to explain, but I couldn't focus over the sound of the knocking, which had grown from a faint, distant noise to an overwhelming clamor, incessantly clobbering inside my head and scrambling my thoughts.
Knock. Knock. Knock.
I surge awake, staring blindly around me for a moment before I recognize my surroundings. I'm in my room, my friend Mike sitting across from me, an annoyed expression on his face. His hand is lifted to knock on the table again, but he lets it fall. On the table are two open Maimonides.
“Well, welcome back to the world of the living. I didn't know I was that boring.”
I rub my eyes. “Sorry, Mike, I didn't get much sleep last night and I've been working on . . .” I sigh. “Sorry. You asked me something?”
“Yeah. We were learning what Maimonides says, that a person should serve G‑d because it is the truth and he loves the truth. And I asked you a question, which must have been really riveting, because you fell asleep.”
I glare at him. “Look, I said I'm sorry, Mikey. What was the question?”
“I asked you, even if Judaism is the truth, how does someone who's never known the truth recognize it when he sees it?”
I lean back in my chair and slowly smile. “I guess it's like waking up from a dream.”
Eli Landes was ordained as a rabbi in South Africa, and is working to complete his Bachelor of Arts. Currently residing in Brooklyn, N.Y., he enjoys blending the esoteric depths of Chassidus with the creativity of writing.© Copyright 2015, all rights reserved.
Parshah
How Joseph Maintained His Serenity By Rochel Holzkenner
The Baal Shem Tov instigated a grassroots revolution all across Europe, called Chassidism. At the center of the chassidic philosophy he placed the tenet of hashgachah pratit, divine providence, the belief that G‑d isreally in charge, managing every detail of our lives. He had many opponents who challenged him. Perhaps they were frightened that this belief would cause people to shirk responsibility and become passive. But the Baal Shem Tov taught that a true understanding of hashgachah pratit breeds proactivity, not passivity.
How’s that? An examination of the biblical account of Joseph’s narrative can shed light on the matter.In his mind it was G‑d, and only G‑d, directing his destiny
The Torah’s description of Joseph leaves no doubt that he was a man with an absolute commitment to his belief in divine providence. When Joseph reveals his true identity to his brothers, he helped them heal from their paralyzing guilt by sharing with them his take on being sold:
“But now do not be sad, and let it not trouble you that you sold me here, for it was to preserve life that G‑d sent me before you. For already two years of famine [have passed] in the midst of the land, and [for] another five years there will be neither plowing nor harvest. So G‑d sent me before you to make for you a remnant in the land, and to preserve [it] for you for a great deliverance.”1
True, his brothers had taken him, a precocious son in Jacob’s illustrious family, and converted him into a piece of meat to be auctioned off in a marketplace. But he wasn’t angry with them, because he didn’t consider them responsible for his humiliation. In his mind it was G‑d, and only G‑d, directing his destiny.
Joseph’s time in Egypt went from bad to worse. Initially he was sold to Potiphar, an Egyptian dignitary, where he was quite successful—but then he was arrested. His alleged crime was fabricated by Potiphar’s wife as revenge for Joseph’s rejecting her seductive advances. Joseph was forced to sit in prison for years.
All the while, Joseph remained true to his belief that G‑d was steering the course of his life, and that there was meaning behind all the chaos.
And then, one day, Joseph noticed that two of his fellow inmates were downcast. Pharaoh’s chief butler and chief baker had been imprisoned for culinary misdemeanors. Their pain concerned Joseph and he approached them. “Why do your faces look so down today?”
“We’ve had a dream,” they responded, “but there is no one to interpret it.”2
Joseph accurately interpreted their dreams. Two years later, the chief butler recommended Joseph to Pharaoh when he too had some disconcerting dreams. Joseph successfully interpreted Pharaoh’s dreams; the rest is history. He became Pharaoh’s viceroy, and saved Egypt and his entire family from starvation during the famine.
But let’s go back to his original question, which spawned the whole sequence of events that followed: “Why do your faces look so down today?”
If Joseph would have felt helpless and irate—the way almost anyone in his position would have felt—he would have been incapable of responding to anyone’s pain but his own. Angry people don’t notice other people who are hurting. And why would Joseph have reached out to employees of a government that had wrongfully imprisoned him?But Joseph wasn’t angry—not at the government, not at Potiphar’s wife, and not at his brothers
But Joseph wasn’t angry—not at the government, not at Potiphar’s wife, and not at his brothers. And as such, he retained his serenity even in jail.
And so Joseph was in tune with another person’s pain, and was therefore capable of doing that one small act of goodness and kindness. Little did he know that it would change the world.
The conviction that G‑d is right here, directing all that happens, is like a spiritual chiropractic adjustment—shifting our focus from frustration to curiosity. The instinctive response—“This is wrong; it shouldn’t have happened to me!!”—becomes: “This is an opportunity—why else would it happen to me?”
Our job is to look for opportunities to make a difference. And sometimes a small window of opportunity brings in a whole new world of fresh air.
This reminds me of the Rebbe’s response to a CNN reporter who stood on the famous “dollar lines” that formed every Sunday outside of Lubavitch World Headquarters. When his turn came and he stood before the Rebbe, he asked, “What is your message to the world?”
The Rebbe replied, “Moshiach is ready to come now. We all must only do something additional in the realm of goodness and kindness.”3
Rochel is a mother of four children and the co-director of Chabad of Las Olas, Fla., serving the community of young professionals. She is a high-school teacher and a freelance writer—and a frequent contributor to Chabad.org. She lectures extensively on topics of Kabbalah and feminism, and their application to everyday life. Rochel holds an MS in Brain Research from Nova SE University.
FOOTNOTES
1. Genesis 44:5–7.
2. Ibid. 40:7–8.
3.Based on a talk of the Lubavitcher Rebbe, given on Shabbat Parshat Miketz 5734.© Copyright 2015, all rights reserved.
Parshah
Tamar’s Twins By Menachem Feldman
Illustration by Sefira Ross.
The Torah is obviously fascinated with twins. Whenever the Torah describes the birth of twins, it goes into minute detail, as if we are the grandparents who are anxious to hear about every step of the labor and delivery.
When Tamar gives birth to her twins, the Torah gives us this detailed description:
While she was in labor, one [of the babies] stuck out his hand [from the womb]. The midwife took a scarlet thread and tied it on his hand to signify, "This one emerged first." [The baby then withdrew his hand.]
But as soon as he withdrew his hand, his brother emerged, and [his mother] said, "With what vigor have you pushed yourself ahead!" So [Judah] named him Peretz ["breaking through"].
Then his brother, who had the scarlet thread on his hand, emerged, and Judah named him Zerach ["shining"].1
Why do we need to know that one stretched out his hand, pulled it back, and the other burst ahead and emerged first? Why do we have to know that the midwife tied a crimson thread on his hand because she thought that he would be born first? What message is the Torah conveying?
The Two Paths
There are two paths we may walk on our journey in this world.
We can walk the bright and shiny path. We can strive to never succumb to evil temptation and to always make the right choices.
Or we may find ourselves on the more tricky path. We follow our heart, even when it directs us to places our mind cautions us to stay away from. Those of us on this second path make mistakes. We stumble. We lose our innocence. We probably cause pain to ourselves and to the people who love us. We may even reach a place of total spiritual darkness, a place where we can no longer hear the whispering voice of our G‑dly soul, directing us back to the path of life.
And then we burst forward.
We don’t know where we get the strength from. We are not sure if and how we will be able to rebuild our shattered relationships. We are not certain we will have the strength of character to sustain us as we push forward, trying to escape old habits.
But we burst forward and push ahead. And do all it takes to make it back to where we need to be.
And then we discover that by leaving that second path, we have come out ahead in the game of life.
While at the outset we should have taken the “firstborn” path, the path G‑d wanted us to choose, ultimately, we are now ahead. For the journey through the wilderness of life forces us to dig deeper, to mine our soul for spiritual courage, and to discover treasures that most people never find.
We discover within ourselves the power to burst through any challenge, to overcome any obstacle, and to shatter any roadblock. We discover that our commitment to the people and ideas we hold dear is unbreakable. The strength needed to burst forward and get us back on the right path is now channeled to sustain and nurture our commitments.
“One [of the babies] stuck out his hand [from the womb]. The midwife took a scarlet thread and tied it on his hand to signify, ‘This one emerged first.’" We recognize that our “midwife”—G‑d—tells us to take the first path, the path of the shiny crimson string. It’s the path of a Zerach, one who “shines.” It’s the path that the Torah is pointing toward.
And yet, if we fail to take the preferred path, if we find ourselves in the dark, we must know that we can be a Peretz—one who “bursts forward.” The Torah tells us that, ultimately, Peretz is the one who achieves greatness and becomes the ancestor of King David and the future Moshiach.
For the perfection of the world will be achieved not by those who never experienced pain, but by those whose pain was transformed into fuel. As Tamar exclaimed upon the birth of Peretz, "With what vigor have you pushed yourself ahead!"
Strive to stretch out your hand and reach for the crimson path of Zerach. But if you fail, burst forward like Peretz. You will be the firstborn. You will achieve more than anyone would dream possible.2
Rabbi Menachem Feldman serves as the director of the Lifelong Learning department at the Chabad Lubavitch Center in Greenwich, CT.
FOOTNOTES
1. Genesis 38:27-30.
2. Based on Likutei Sichot vol. 30, pg. 188.© Copyright 2015, all rights reserved.
Parshah
Where Are Jews Truly At Home? By Lazer Gurkow
Illustration by Sefira Ross.
The story is told of a chassid who would travel on business to St. Petersburg and return home to his rebbe’s court. In St. Petersburg he would don modern attire and mingle with his business colleagues; at home he reverted to the chassid’s garb.
Feeling uncomfortable with the constant switching, he decided to wear his modern attire at home. The rebbe looked at him strangely, and the chassid explained that this was his business attire. The rebbe assured him that he had already deduced as much. “But,” said the rebbe, “I thought you were at home in the chassid’s garb and the modern attire was your business costume. Now I see that the opposite is true. You are at home in your modern attire, and the chassid’s garb is your costume.”
Whether we are in medicine, law, academics or business, we dress up every day, leave home and head into the world. We don a personality that suits our environment and work hard to succeed. We return at the end of the day, wash up, and revert to our real personality. We go back to being a father, a mother, a member of the family. We learn Torah with our children, celebrate Shabbat and holidays, chant the blessings over our food, and pray morning and night.
The question is, where are we at home? Where do we feel that we fit in and belong? Are we better suited to our secular, professional persona, or are we most comfortable in our Jewish selves? Which is the real me and which is the dress-up me?
In Exile
When our ancestors were exiled to Babylon, they were unhappy in their distant home. They sat at the shores of the Euphrates and cried for Jerusalem. A mere 70 years later, when the exile ended, many Jews had grown so comfortable in exile that they had to be coerced to leave.1
When we were exiled to Europe, we felt like foreign transplants. The Europeans didn’t welcome us; they discriminated against us and persecuted us. We built ghettos and strove to create mini Jerusalems behind the ghetto walls. We didn’t assimilate into the European culture. We lived in Europe, but its culture was foreign to us. Europe was our home, but we were never at home there.
Then came the emancipation, and the entire culture shifted. We began to dream of liberty and equality. We began to speak the gentiles’ language and adopt gentile values. We yearned for the gentiles’ acceptance and aspired to full integration. We began to dream the gentile dream. But we never succeeded. The Jews were never embraced by Europe. They continued to hate us and discriminate against us. And when the Nazis came to slaughter us, our European friends conveniently “forgot” us.
Jacob and Joseph
This is reminiscent of what happened to our forefather Jacob. The Torah tells us that “Jacob settled in the land of his father’s sojourns.” Jacob settled in and began to feel at home in his father’s land. Isaac was a sojourner in the land; he never felt at home there. He felt at home only in the synagogue and study hall. Jacob settled in the land—he wasn’t a sojourner; he felt right at home.2
Jacob was able to settle into the mundane and earthly lifestyle of field work without compromising his wholesome spirituality.3 Yet, Jacob was breaking new ground, and all beginnings are fraught with risk. What came easily to Jacob had a corrupting influence on Joseph. The moment Jacob settled in and began to feel at home, he was beset by the tragedy of Joseph.
At first, Joseph had grandiose dreams of conquering the world with his monotheistic ideals. He dreamed of the sun and moon prostrating before him. He had visions of sheaves in the field bowing to him. The workers and the nobles, the peasants and the rulers, would all bow to Joseph’s teachings of Torah and G‑d.
But with time, Joseph temporarily stopped thinking of those triumphs. He moved to Egypt and became self-absorbed. He stopped dreaming Jewish dreams and began to interpret Egyptian dreams. He associated with Egyptian royals and Egyptian behaviors.4
We too must ask, where do we stand? Are we Americans, Europeans, Australians . . . or are we Jews? Are we “at home” in the synagogue and sojourners on the outside, or are we “at home” outside and sojourners in the synagogue?
You can spend most of your day at work without your workplace becoming home. You can also spend most of your life in the diaspora without making it your home. If we are Jewish, then Israel is our home. We are in the diaspora for a purpose—to help make these lands holier and more G‑dly places. But that is our job. It’s not our home.
When the diaspora becomes our home, when we grow comfortable with the non-Jewish culture, music, holidays and values, when we measure time by the secular calendar and forget the Jewish date, we slowly, without realizing, lose touch with our Jewish selves. We begin to identify more with our neighbors than our people. We adopt their dreams, their ideals and their values.
What happens next? Well, let’s look at what happened to Joseph. He placed his hope in the hands of the royal butler and was bitterly disappointed. As the Torah puts it, the butler “forgot” him.5 Just as our European neighbors conveniently “forgot” us when the Nazis came to slaughter us.
How Do We Respond?
We do what Joseph did. He realized his error and returned to his faith in G‑d. When he was summoned to interpret Pharaoh’s dreams, he gave full credence to G‑d and to the message that G‑d had sent through the dream.6 From this point onward, Joseph became even more adept than his father at remaining true to his identity, despite being integrated within Egyptian culture. Joseph succeeded in his work and transformed the whole of Egypt. Everyone bowed to him, but it wasn’t really to him. It was to his divine message and Torah ethos.
Never again did Joseph think of Egypt as home. For him, Israel would forever be home. Indeed, before his passing he instructed that his remains be transported to Israel for burial.
And some two centuries later, Joseph was finally home.
We too must return to the synagogue, to Israel, to Judaism and to Torah. On that day, we too will finally be home.
Rabbi Lazer Gurkow is spiritual leader of Congregation Beth Tefilah in London, Ontario, and a frequent contributor to The Judaism Website—Chabad.org. He has lectured extensively on a variety of Jewish topics, and his articles have appeared in many print and online publications. For more on Rabbi Gurkow and his writings, visit InnerStream.ca.
FOOTNOTES
1. Psalm 147. Ezra 8:15-19.
2. Genesis 37:1. See Rashi, Kli Yakar and Latorah V’lamoadim by Rabbi S. Y. Zevin.
3. Torat Menachem 10, p. 204.
4. Genesis 39:6. See Rashi to Genesis 39:11 and Rashi to Genesis 40:8, 12, 18. On the other hand, see Rashi to Genesis 40:1.
5. Genesis 40:23, see Rashi.
6. Genesis 41:16, 25, 24, 32. It bears noting that he did not mention G‑d when interpreting the butler’s dream.© Copyright 2015, all rights reserved.VIDEO
What the Chassidic New Year Means to You
An engaging, fresh, and practical take on the day celebrated as the New Year of Chassidism.
Watch (2:17)
<script language="javascript" type="text/javascript" src="http://embed.chabad.org/multimedia/mediaplayer/embedded/embed.js.asp?aid=3148254&width=auto&height=auto"></script><span style="clear:both;" class="lb" id="lbdiv">Visit <a href="http://www.chabad.org/multimedia/default_cdo/aid/591213/jewish/Video.htm">Jewish.TV</a> for more <a href="http://www.chabad.org/multimedia/default_cdo/aid/591213/jewish/Video.htm">Jewish videos</a>.</span>
You Can Be a Hakhel Jew
When the Temple stood, the Jewish people would gather from all over the Land of Israel for hakhel, to hear the King read from the Torah in the Holy Temple. This event occurred every seven years.
Watch (6:46)
http://www.chabad.org/therebbe/livingtorah/player_cdo/aid/3107177/jewish/You-Can-Be-a-Hakhel-Jew.htm
Illustration by Sefira Ross.
Why Can’t I Use an Electric Menorah?
What's Wrong With an Electric Menorah?By Yehuda Shurpin
While at the mall, I was approached by two young chassidic teenagers who asked me whether I was Jewish and if I had a menorah at home. I proudly replied that I had a nice big electric menorah in my window. They then proceeded to tell me that while an electric menorah is good for the window, I should still light a menorah with candles (which they then gave me). At the time, I was in a bit of a hurry so I didn’t get into it, but I would still like to know, what is the story with electric menorahs?
Reply
Let’s start with why we light the menorah in the first place. Here’s what the Talmud has to say:
When the Hasmonean family overpowered and were victorious over the Greeks, they searched and found only a single cruse of pure oil . . . enough to light the Temple menorah for a single day. A miracle occurred, and they lit the menorah with this enough-for-one-day-oil for eight days. On the following year, they established the festival of Chanukah, in which we light the menorah for eight days, commemorating this miracle.1
Fuel, Wicks and Fire—Like the Temple Menorah
Since the miracle occurred with a menorah consisting of fuel, wicks and fire, we likewise use the same type of lamp for the Chanukah menorah. (Accordingly, it is preferable to use olive oil as the fuel.) Many are of the opinion that since electric lamps don’t really have any of these elements, one should not use them for Chanukah.2
Prerequisite Fuel
Additionally, even if the exact type of fuel were not an issue, there is still another potential issue. The mitzvah of lighting the menorah is the actual kindling of the flames; therefore, one is obligated to already have the required amount of fuel in the menorah lamp at lighting time (i.e., enough to burn for 30 minutes after nightfall). If one only adds the proper amount of fuel after lighting, he has not fulfilled his requirement.3
Since electricity is constantly being regenerated, or at the very least, it isn’t all present at the time of lighting, it is similar to lighting the flame and only later adding the right amount of fuel, so one may not fulfill the mitzvah with it.4
(However, based on this reasoning alone, using a battery-powered light may indeed be permissible, since all of the “fuel” is present at the time of lighting.5)
Flame vs. Torch
Others, however, explain that a) it can be argued that the electric wires of the menorah itself are perhaps the equivalent of “wicks,” and most importantly b) oil or fuel isn’t even a necessary requirement for the menorah. The main thing is just that it “burns.” After all, the halachah states that “all oils and wicks are acceptable for use in one’s menorah” (although as mentioned, all agree that olive oil is preferable).6
In light of this, they explain that there is not an absolute requirement that the Chanukah menorah be exactly like the one in the Temple, and the absence of actual fuel may not be a problem.7 However, there is seemingly a much more fundamental problem with using an electric menorah.
Even if there is no absolute requirement that the menorah be exactly like the one in the Temple, there is still a basic requirement that the Chanukah lights be similar to the Temple’s in that they should be a ner (single wick) and not a medurah (blaze of fire).8 Many electric bulbs, especially incandescent ones, have an arc-shaped filament that is lit up. This is similar to a medurah rather than a single flame.9 (Other types of bulbs, such as fluorescent ones, don’t necessarily even have the status of “fire” and definitely should not be used.10)
Extenuating Circumstances
In light of the various potential issues discussed, one should always endeavour to use a fuel-wick-and-fire menorah. This is no doubt the reason why those two young men gave you a conventional menorah. I would add, however, that in a situation in which there are some concerns about using a conventional menorah (for example, an elderly person living alone), one can simply light some tea lights placed in a tray (and the tray can even be filled with water). For more on that, see I am an elderly man and I am hesitant to use Chanukah candles…
Additionally, in extenuating circumstances, when lighting a fire just isn’t an option, then in consultation with your rabbi, you may be able to use some sort of battery-powered light for the menorah. However, in such a situation, you would still not make the actual blessings for lighting the menorah.
Don’t Pack Away That Electric Menorah!
One of the most important themes of the Chanukah celebration is to publicize the miracle.11 So although there are issues regarding the use of an electric menorah in actually fulfilling the mitzvah, electric menorahs are still a great way to publicize the Chanukah miracle. So by all means, keep your electric menorah lit in your window—just be sure to also light a conventional one like they lit in the Temple during the story of Chanukah.
Rabbi Yehuda Shurpin responds to questions for Chabad.org's Ask the Rabbi service.
FOOTNOTES
1.Talmud, Shabbat 21b.
2.Kaf Hachaim, Orach Chaim 673:19; Rabbi Shlomo Zalman Auerbach, Meorei Aish 5:2.
3.Shulchan Aruch, Orach Chaim 675:2.
4.Responsa Har Tzvi 2:114; Mikrai Kodesh, Chanukah 20.
5.See Halichot Shlomo 2, pg. 283.
6.Shulchan Aruch, Orach Chaim 673:1.
7.Responsa Tzitz Eliezer 1:20:12.
8.Talmud, Shabbat 23b; Shulchan Aruch, Orach Chaim 671:4.
9.Kaf Hachaim, Orach Chaim 673:19; Responsa Tzitz Eliezer 1:20:12.
10.Shvut Yitzchak Ner Shabbat, ch. 3, fn. 11.
11.See, for example, Talmud, Shabbat 21a-22b.© Copyright 2015, all rights reserved.
| 19 Kislev Light, Life and Selflessness By Mendel Rubin  Illustration by Sefira Ross On the 19th day of the Hebrew month of Kislev (“Yud-Tes Kislev”) back in 1798, the first Chabad Rebbe, Rabbi Schneur Zalman of Liadi, was released from Czarist prison and acquitted of all charges leveled against his innovative Chabad teachings and the Chassidic movement as a whole. Ever since, the date has been a uniquely festive holiday for chassidim, a time for Chassidic gatherings known as farbrengens and rededication to the study of Chassidus and the ways of Chassidus. In a famous letter penned in 1901, Rabbi Shalom DovBer, the fifth rebbe of Chabad-Lubavitch, referred to this day as the Rosh Hashanah of Chassidus. Whenever I think of the Yud-Tes Kislev farbrengens of my formative years in yeshivah, two unforgettable statements come to mind, two pithy lines that were repeated by beloved teachers and relived by those who heard them each and every year. An oft-repeated, predictable statement may seem to run against the grain of a farbrengen. After all, such gatherings are informal by design and definition. You can’t speak at a farbrengen without thinking about it and preparing yourself for an honest exchange first. But neither can you make a formal delivery of a prepared speech. Real farbrengens spring from the heart, a fluid, flexible and authentic expression of true thoughts and feelings. Yet, these statements were different. They did not get stale with the passing years but sprang forth anew, engaging the heart and mind each year with the same raw spirit, with energetic freshness and searching depth. For me and for any student who attended the same Chabad yeshivah in Brooklyn as I did, these simple statements of Chassidic belief and their meaning became the central feature of the Yud-Tes Kislev experience. No matter where we live today, from Australia to Russia, or anywhere across America, these two Yud-Tes Kislev mottos remain etched in our minds. The first of these is from the veteran chassid, Reb Elya Chaim Roitblat, of blessed memory. Legends swirled about Reb Elya Chaim. Rumor had it that he was among that special group of pious people who wore four pairs of tefillin in secret. A story circulated that the Rebbe assured a parent of one of Reb Elya Chaim’s students that since Elya Chaim was his teacher, he would certainly have fear of heaven. Physically, he was a wisp of a man. But he was an individual of unwavering spirit. Even in the harshest days of winter, he’d determinedly make his way up icy sidewalks from one end of Crown Heights to the other to pray at the Rebbe’s minyan, where he swayed to and fro, rhythmically saying the words of the prayer aloud, gently, softly and heartfelt. After retiring as a devoted teacher of young children, he assumed his post at the yeshivah for older students. He sat quietly and unassumingly at a desk near the entrance of the study hall, studying Likutei Torah, the classic collection of Chassidic discourses by Rabbi Schneur Zalman of Liadi. We yeshivah students were never quite sure what his formal role was in the yeshivah faculty. But he was a living example of what a true chassid should look like, an idealized glimpse into the old days. Once a year, Reb Elya Chaim came alive. On the eve of Yud-Tes Kislev, all the tables in the yeshivah were lined up in rows, covered with white tablecloths and filled with farbrengen foods, including the traditional Yud-Tes Kislev buckwheat kasha. Each year, Reb Elya Chaim was the first speaker. Despite his small stature, he rose up and spoke dynamically, his cane in hand. And each and every year, he began with the same words, what might be described as a personal Yiddish liturgy, annually repeated almost verbatim, in a sweet singsong: “Haynt iz Yud-Tes Kislev (Today is Yud Tes Kislev). Vus iz Yud-Tes Kislev (What is Yud-Tes Kislev)? The Rosh Hashanah of Chassidus. And what is Chassidus? Chassidus is nit ich (not I)!” In other words, Chassidism is self-transcendence. Chassidism is selflessness. Reb Elya Chaim always opened with these few words and usually didn’t say much more than that. He left for home soon after, while the night was still young and the farbrengen was just getting started. My own children know these words well, and we repeat them in our home every year on Yud-Tes Kislev. Even my younger ones can repeat Reb Elya Chaim’s words: “Haynt iz Yud-Tes Kislev . . .” Later that same night, Reb Yisroel Friedman, may he live and be well, would farbreng for hours. He continues to serve as the Rosh Yeshivah to this day, and farbrengs each year as he did then. He is a fiery, sharp-witted and richly-expressive scholar. An individual who seamlessly combines the analytical precision of the Talmudist with the exuberant passion of Chassidic life and learning, the entire month of Kislev is clearly a special time for him. There is a nigun (Chassidic melody) segment that he often sings at farbrengens during this month, a melancholy melody, with yearning and seeking throbbing in every note. Reb Yisroel is a walking storehouse of Talmudic and Chassidic knowledge, and with his quickness of spirit and razor-sharp mind, he is never without a novel insight at the tip of his tongue. Never at a loss for words, he flows seamlessly between the revealed and concealed parts of Torah, weaving in and out, with poignant anecdotes and swift flashes of humor thrown in at every turn. But on Yud-Tes Kislev he sticks to the same topic every year, always repeating the same five Hebrew words, and expounding on them for hours on end: “Ohr vechayus nafsheinu nitan lanu—[On this day of Yud-Tes Kislev,] the light and life of our souls were given to us.” These five Hebrew words are a quote from the same Yud-Tes Kislev letter in which the fifth rebbe proclaimed this day the Rosh Hashanah of Chassidus. Late into the night, Reb Yisroel would unpack the immense significance of these words. Light. Life. Soul. Each of these words represents entire worlds of meaning, and Reb Yisroel drew on all the richness of his knowledge and his colorful personality to communicate that meaning to us. With animated warmth, zest and humor, he emphasized his points with pithy chassidic stories and sayings, quoting extensively from a vast repertoire of Chassidic discourses. But ultimately he placed the primary emphasis on the last two words, nitan lanu—on this day, the light and life of our souls was given to us! For Reb Yisroel, this statement wasn’t simply cause for celebration. This was a statement of personal responsibility and obligation, a statement that demanded penetrating introspection, a statement that required us to ask ourselves hard, soul-searching questions: Have we absorbed and internalized the light, life and soul of Chassidus? Have we made it ours, and how? What have we done, and what are we continuing to do to make Chassidus our own? I was intrigued and inspired by the paradoxical juxtaposition of these two mottos on the same night. “It’s not about me,” declares Reb Elya Chaim of Chassidus, yet Reb Yisroel insists that we must personally internalize it, we must apply it to our lives, we must make Chassidus our own. These are no mere slogans. Each spoke his own truth. These were deeply personal statements, inner rallying cries, simultaneously expressing and re-intensifying the essence of who they each were as people, and their individual avodah (life’s work) as chassidim. For both Reb Elya Chaim and Reb Yisroel respectively, these words bared their souls. Taken together, these two statements reflect a complex dialectic between the self and selflessness, which lies at the heart of the Chabad path of inner work and service of G‑d. The need to strike a balance between these extremes was famously expressed by Hillel, the great sage of the Mishnah: “If I am not for myself, who is for me? And if I am only for myself, what am I?”1 But Chabad Chassidus takes this concept much further, both in its extremes and in its beautiful synthesis, with tremendous depth and personal application. The very acronym of Chabad connects the faculty of chochmah, which apprehends the all-effacing spark of G‑d’s infinite transcendence, with the meaningful internalization and tangible life application of daat. Likewise, one of the best known facets of contemporary Chabad is shlichus, which is based on the fundamental teaching of the Rebbe that it is through dedicating ourselves entirely to a higher purpose that we can ultimately fulfill our full potential as individuals. Nit ich! Chassidism is about selflessness. And at the very same time, nitan lanu! It is that selflessness that gives us the very life and light of our souls. Rabbi Mendel Rubin and his wife, Raizy, co-direct the Shabbos House Rohr Chabad Jewish Student Center in Albany, New York. He also teaches at the local Maimonides School. FOOTNOTES 1. Avot 1:14.© Copyright 2015, all rights reserved. 19 Kislev How to Celebrate Your Birthday Twice A 19 Kislev Thought By Chana Weisberg  Illustration by Sefira Ross. Dear reader, It had been a while since my friend, Sally, and I last had lunch together. “Today’s a very special day,” she announced. “Today are my birthdays--my Jewish birthday as well as my secular birthday.” I smiled, congratulating her and wishing her many more years in health. “Do you know how seldom the two birthdays come together?” she asked. Actually, I did. Every 19 years. “Exactly,” she said. “I remember, because 19 years ago, my father passed away. What an emotional year that was…”Every 19 years, the Jewish calendar which is based on the lunar cycle meets up exactly with the Gregorian calendar which is based on the solar system. At the end of 12 months, the 29.5 day lunar month falls short of the 365.25 day solar year. But the Jewish calendar insists on reconciling the two cycles. Its solution is to add a leap month every few years which makes it ahead of the solar year in some years and lagging behind in others. Only in the nineteenth year do the two meet up—and thus my friend’s joint birthdays. But why is the Jewish calendar so complicated? Why insist on being in sync with the solar cycle while following the lunar one? Because Judaism believes in synthesizing and integrating opposites in order to live a fuller life. And so, we incorporate the moon’s creative qualities of rebirth while at the same time enjoying the sun’s consistency and constancy. We remain faithful to our traditions while incorporating the ebb and flow of our creative talents. We follow the lunar months while retaining the sun’s seasons. This brings me to the 19th day of Kislev, celebrated this week. On this day, the Alter Rebbe, Rabbi Shneur Zalman of Liadi, was freed from his imprisonment in czarist Russia and was able to redouble his efforts of disseminating his teachings. And perhaps there is significance to this special day falling on the 19th --a number that teaches us how to harmonize opposites. The Tanya, the foundational text by the Alter Rebbe speaks about a battle that is waged every day within every human being between his G‑dly and animal soul. The animal soul is our physical self—our drive to be, our instinct for self-preservation and self-fulfillment. The G‑dly soul is the source of our spirituality—our drive for self-transcendence, our yearning to escape our material existence and connect with the eternal. Victory is not offered by negating the physical but rather engaging its power and passion for spiritual pursuits. Life is about fusion--partaking of life's pleasures while not being defined by them, but employing them in the service of G‑d. We succeed when the body looks at the world and sees it as the soul does, as a means for expressing a greater, G‑dly purpose. Here’s to a great week ahead--celebrating our physical life while using it for higher meaning! Chana Weisberg Editor, TJW Chana Weisberg is the editor of TheJewishWoman.org. She lectures internationally on issues relating to women, relationships, meaning, self-esteem and the Jewish soul. She is the author of five popular books.© Copyright 2015, all rights reserved. Your Questions Is Judaism a Cult? By Aron Moss  Illustration by Sefira Ross. Question: I’m in Israel now, and I’ve come across a situation that I don’t know what to make of; perhaps you can help. I’m asking you because you’re the only religious person I know. Basically, I bumped into an old classmate of mine. She is studying here in some Jewish seminary, and she has become religious. After speaking to her for about five seconds, I felt that she has been brainwashed. The way she was speaking was as if she was in a cult. It was a bit scary. I have nothing against religion, but could it be that religious Judaism is a cult? Answer: While it is not a cult, even Judaism can sometimes be used in ways that are disturbingly similar to how people behave in a cult. What is the difference between a cult and a religion? Most people define the term “cult” so vaguely that anyone with strong opinions could be classified as a cult follower. The best working definition I have heard is this:I have nothing against religion, but could it be that religious Judaism is a cult?A religion is a movement in which people find themselves; a cult is a movement in which people lose themselves. A cult hijacks your identity and makes you into someone you aren’t. A true religion should enhance and deepen your identity, to make you a better you. People who find religion go through changes. They learn to explore parts of their personality that they never knew existed. As a result, they often re-evaluate themselves and their lives. All growth is accompanied by some upheaval and instability, so they may go through a short period where they seem a bit weird to their friends and family. They may even missionize a bit, and try to “convert” everyone around them. They mean well—they just want to share their newfound inspiration with those they love. This is normal, and the family should try to be patient. However, if they start to turn into someone else altogether, if they seem unrecognizable, then there could be cause for concern. If they lose their personality, their sense of humor, their interest in others, or their ability to think, then they may have lost themselves. If these symptoms persist, seek rabbinic advice. They may have fallen prey to a cult—or are using a religion as a cult. Cults demand that you jump in unquestioningly. But when you make such sudden changes, you will have to leave your self behind. This is not the Jewish way. Judaism encourages questioning, even honest skepticism. Jewish spiritual development is done gradually and with thought. That way the changes will be real, as they integrate and harmonize with your personality rather than overwhelm it. Give your friend some time. If she is indeed brainwashed, it probably won’t last—she will jump out as quickly as she jumped in. Judaism can’t be used as a cult for long. But more likely she will settle to a balanced medium, where her old self will come back again, but with a depth and direction that she never had before. Sometimes you have to lose yourself a little bit to find yourself again. Aron Moss is rabbi of the Nefesh Community in Sydney, Australia, and is a frequent contributor to Chabad.org. Artwork by Sarah Kranz. © Copyright 2015, all rights reserved. |
Of Kapotehs, Ladders and Crazy, Lit-up Rabbis By Chana Gittle Deray
Illustration by Sefira Ross.
It was a typical Tuesday in suburbia—not an Election Day, not a recycling day, and not any other Tuesday of great significance.
Or so I thought.
I had driven over to Miriam’s house, a warm and wonderful place to go for a cup of tea and some lively conversation. We were doing what we often did on a weekday, standing in her hallway chatting, with our children hard at play nearby, when in walked her husband, wearing a kapoteh (Chassidic frock coat) and a very lit-up smile. He continued up the steps, greeting us with a hearty, joy-filled, sing-song: “Gut Yom Tov,gut Yom Tov! (Good holiday!)” What could have gotten into this rabbi now?
This was the rabbi whose overly inspired voice I heard each evening as I picked up the phone during what my friend Nechami calls “happy hour”—when children are busy with all the creative and wondrous things they do before tiring out themselves and everything around themWhat could have gotten into this rabbi now? for the evening. He would ask with such joy-filled enthusiasm, “Can your husband make the minyan (quorum of ten men for prayer)?” You would have thought he was inviting my husband to a party for a king.
As far as it being a Yom Tov? I may not have been aware of all the details of living as a religious Jew back then, but I was pretty sure that if it were Yom Tov, I would have known about it. Miriam and I paused our conversation, returned the rabbi’s curious greeting—Miriam looking a little apologetic—and watched in silence as the lit-up rabbi disappeared down the hallway. I couldn’t help but think, Man . . . he is SO over the top! Of course it’s Yom Tov on his planet today. In fact, I bet it’s always Yom Tov on his planet. This rabbi should not be let out of the house unless under proper supervision.
And this was not the only rabbi we had met from the over-the-top rabbi department.
There was another wonderful, although slightly distracted, rabbi that we became close with at the time. With that same look of joy and selfless love in his eyes, this rabbi would build this fantastically oversized menorah at a gas station that looked out onto a major intersection where three towns met. It was truly awe-inspired.
We would bring our children after dark on Chanukah to the Shell gas station to watch. Up and down the ladder went the determined rabbi, with a blowtorch in hand, lighting large oil lanterns, in spite of rain, wind or anything else G‑d would send his way. We stood nearby—his wife and their children, us and our children, our necks craned, mouths open, noses running—the perfect rent-a-crowd. Up and down the ladder to the enormous menorah he went, hoping to reach out to any Jew who happened to drive by. What a sight. After finally getting the torches to stay lit, he would recite the prayers in a calm and splendidly beautiful voice. Then, while still on the ladder and holding his torch, he would prepare to sing. We stood by with great anticipation as he opened his mouth to sing the first line of “Maoz Tzur (Rock of Ages),” when he belted out in a hardy voice “Haneirot Halalu.”
Now, any rabbi worth his weight in chocolate coins knows that everyone sings “Rock of Ages” after lighting the menorah! And if you are not going to sing “Rock of Ages,” how about “Hatikvah,” or a little “Havah Nagilah”? We looked up at him, singing with such heartfelt sincerity after all his hard work up and down the ladder, using his remaining strength on this odd, little tune, and thought, Where in the world did the rabbi get this song from? If he wants to start drawing a crowd out here, he’s going to have to learn the traditional tunes.
After years of watching these and other animated, enthusiastic rabbis, with their interesting and industrious ways of approaching holidays—and every day, for that matter—I have learned that sometimes it’s me who is missing a tune.
As it turns out, the odd little song the rabbi insisted on singing after lighting his majestic menorah, “Haneirot Halalu,” is a beautifully powerful and traditional song that tells us why we light the candles, their meaning, and all about the miracle of the lights. I have learned to sing “Haneirot Halalu” as heartily as any rabbi on a ladder, hitting its low, low notes and all, but even more wonderful is that my family now sings it with great, joyful chaos by the light of their own menorahs and lit-up smiles.
I have also learned that Miriam’s husband actually was inviting my husband to a party for a king each night—our King, G‑d, who rejoices in hearing from us three times a day with extra pleasure when we call with a group of ten men.
And about that random Tuesday . . . it turns out that it was not so random after all. It was Yud-Tes Kislev, the day that Rabbi Schneur Zalman of Liadi, known as the Alter Rebbe, was released from prison in a string of miraculous events that allowed him to continue spreading the wellsprings of Chassidut and preparing the world for Moshiach’s coming. Not only was it a Yom Tov, but it was a truly great and important one! Who knew?Turns out it was not so random after all
But now, I‘ve got it. In fact, I’ve got it so bad that I also walk around on Yud-Tes Kislev wishing heartfelt “Good Yom Tov’s” and talking to complete strangers about doing mitzvahs and bringing light into the world.
I am grateful to Miriam’s husband, the Shell gas station rabbi, and the many over-the-top rabbis who wear kapotehs on random Tuesdays and sing odd little songs while standing on ladders with torches while it rains—rabbis who welcome every Jew with warmth and an open heart, no matter how little we yet know or do, and despite how awfully know-it-all we can be.
A little knowledge can be a dangerous thing, but being a little “lit-up” can dispel a lot of darkness.
Chana Gittle Deray is an inspirational speaker and writer best known for her warm humor—with a strong purpose. Her popular work gives women a reason to laugh, while exploring the many tools G-d has given them to build strength and joy. For more of her writing, visit her blog.© Copyright 2015, all rights reserved.
Women
An Adult Daughter Muses as She Visits Her Childhood Home By Batya Schochet Lisker
Illustration by Sefira Ross
Standing in the slow-moving customs queue in the Toronto airport, waiting to have my passport checked, I thought of the famous adage “You can’t go home again” coined by author Thomas Wolfe. It was Sunday, Rosh Hashanah eve, and I was headed to my childhood home to spend Yom Tov with my parents. As an adult with grown children of my own, coming home for the holidays is both comforting and nostalgic. Was I really returning home or just to the memories of what once was?
“You can’t go home again” has become a commonly used idiom to mean that once you have left your provincial, backwater hometown for a sophisticated metropolis, you cannot return to the narrow confines of yourWas I really returning home?previous, conservative, simple way of life. It suggests that people permanently outgrow their upbringing when they carve out an independent adult life.
But it is also wistful, romanticizing the simplicity of childhood. Because the phrase implies that you really wish you could go home again—back home to your family, back home to your childhood ... away from all the strife and conflict of the world ... back home to the old forms and systems, which once seemed everlasting but are changing all the time. As Bob Seger sang, “I wish I didn’t know now what I didn’t know then.” We yearn to return to an innocence lost, a place that has ceased to exist.
Leaving the airport, I drove the familiar streets of my native town, and realized that it is surprisingly disconcerting to find myself so simultaneously in my element and out of it. I never stop thinking of Toronto as home, in the fundamental sense of the term. It’s where I come from, what I really understand, the yardstick against which all else is measured.
Even before the heavy wooden door of home clanged open, I heard my parents excitedly calling my name in welcome, and I was enveloped in the mouth-watering smells of my mother’s signature Yom Tov dishes emanating from the kitchen, unexpectedly flooding me with detailed and arousing reminisces.
Absorbed sights, sounds, smells, nurturing feelings, beloved faces, fragments of experiences remain indelibly impressed on the mind long after the full reality is lost to oblivion, forming our memories. Sacred memories that paint portraits on our souls, lifelong companions that sustain us for the rest of our lives and guide us to new levels of seeing, feeling, perceiving and being.
Joseph, who evolved to greatness while alone in a foreign land, garnered the necessary strength to remain true to his identity because he saw the image of his father Jacob in his mind. And in accessing his experiences with his father, Joseph saw his roots, his foundation, his own image, his own potential.
It is our memories that sustain us, that connect us to our roots. But if we’re lucky to still have our parents with us, we can and should continue to develop that relationship in the present. Many of us, including myself, spend our lives lounging in the safe confines of the parent-child relationship we knew in the past, never challenging the way we communicate with the people who created us. That is, perhaps, until we start to feel that familiar safety net is becoming threatened, until we grasp that our parents will not be around forever.I was glad to be in the moment
I was glad to be in the moment this Rosh Hashanah with my parents. As Yom Tov began, the world slowed down, and distractions disappeared. In every mundane interaction, my parents’ beauty and goodness shone, and I basked in their warmth, their nurturing, their undivided attention, replenishing the treasure house of my memories. I look forward to “going home again” while I still can.
As my plane circled before landing at LaGuardia, I pondered the value of memories—they cannot be overstated, and their implications are far greater than I can imagine. I disembarked surprisingly refreshed and strengthened, determined to live up to my best self.
For all of our history adds up to what we are—or what, at least, we are always trying our best to be.
Batya Schochet Lisker is the founding principal of Bais Chana Chabad Girls' High School of Los Angeles, current executive assistant to Rabbi Yehuda Krinsky of Chabad World Headquarters in New York, and program administrator of the Machne Israel Development Fund Early Childhood Initiative.© Copyright 2015, all rights reserved.
Fiction
The Dream of Life By Eli Landes
Illustration by Sefira Ross.
“Life is a dream.”
I looked up from my speech as my best friend, Mike, sat down across from me. “What?”
“The title of my new screenplay. 'Life is a Dream.' It's an allegorical film arguing that all of life is just an illusion and a dream, making our struggles and goals futile.”
“Interesting. Depressing, but interesting. Isn't there already a play with that title?”
Mike sighed. “Yeah. I have to work on that. Maybe I'll change the name somewhat. Anyway, I'm pretty excited about the idea. Take your speech, for example. In a dream, you wouldn't bother working hard on a speech, because it wouldn't matter. No matter what you do, you can't achieve anything in a dream. So, if life is a dream, your writing this speech is pointless—because it's not real.”
I smiled sardonically at him. “Thank you, Mikey. That's always what someone wants to hear right before a big presentation—that it's all pointless anyway. Look, I'd like to discuss this more with you—later. Right now, I've got to work on my speech.”
______________________________________
“Is the banter always part of the dream?”
The question brought me back to the present, and, instead of answering, I took a moment to gaze around the room. We were seated in a small room, pristine and neat, with our chairs, a bookshelf against the far wall, and an antique clock its only furnishings. The sparseness of the room lent it a professional air; an observer would describe it as efficient, or clinical, but not comfortable.
Dr. Cooper, seated across from me, repeated her question.
“Sorry, Doctor. Um . . . I guess so, more or less. The exact dialogue changes, depending on the dream. Some nights we talk more about Mike's screenplay, sometimes less. But the dream always starts the same way. I'm working on something important—a speech, this time, other times a proposal or a book—and Mike approaches me and declares that . . . life is a dream.”
Dr. Cooper nodded. “Interesting. In this dream, how similar is the dream version of you to the real you?”
“In some ways, pretty similar. In others, not at all. In the dream, I'm on the verge of success but not quite there. I'm just finishing the touches of something that will make me big—my first book, or, last night, my first public speech before some committee. The details of what I'm working on or who it’s for are usually pretty vague. Anyway, when the dream starts, I'm just finishing up.”
“OK. Let's take last night's dream, when you were writing a speech. What happened next?”
_____________________________________
“Great speech.”
“Really, absolutely phenomenal. The way you explained the concepts involved—”
“I have to agree. I've never heard these ideas expressed so eloquently.”
I nodded and smiled, allowing myself to bask in the glow of their praise. Seeing Mike approaching, I excused myself and headed towards him. “So, what did you think?”
“Well, buddy, I didn't understand a word, so I think that means it was pretty good. How do you feel?”
“I . . . don't know. I should feel good, but to be honest I don't really feel anything. Isn't that odd?”
“No. It's just like I was saying—life is a dream. No, don't roll your eyes. Listen to me for a moment. You know when you have a dream, and you're really trying to reach something, but you can't? Like there's this big banquet you want to eat, and you spend the whole dream trying to eat it, but you never do? It's like that. You're not satisfied with your accomplishments because you didn't really accomplish anything. It's like you're dreaming—nothing you do is real.”
“OK, seriously, Mikey, cut it out with the dream stuff. You're bumming me out.”
“Prove me wrong, then. What did you just speak about?”
I started to answer him but found my mind oddly foggy, the details of my speech slipping from recollection. “I'm tired right now, Mikey, I don't want to—don't smile like that! This is ridiculous, Mike. The fact that I can't remember my speech does not prove anything—I mean, come on! Don't you think I'd know if I was dreaming?”
Mike leaned forward, his look oddly intent. “No, I don't. Have you ever had a dream and wondered to yourself if it was real? So, you decide to test it out. You touch the wall, or try to wake up. Sometimes, you realize it is a dream, and you do wake up. Other times, however, you don't, and become convinced the dream is real. It's only when youwake up that you realize it was a dream. That's what this is. You're dreaming, dreaming the dream of life, and you're so deep in the dream you can't even tell it’s not real. But you need to stop dreaming. You need to. Wake. Up.”
____________________________________
“And that, every night, is when I wake up.”
Dr. Cooper nodded. “Well, psychology generally advocates not paying too much attention to dreams, but since this is a recurring dream and one that bothers you, I think it's worth discussing. What do you suppose it means?”
“Well, I'm struggling right now, career-wise. I'm not really sure which path to take. Maybe the dream is my subconscious self telling me that I'm on the wrong road—that my life is without purpose. Maybe the idea is that, if I continue down this road, I'll look back, years later, and struggle to find meaning in my actions.”
“Perhaps. And, as I've already mentioned, we have to be cautious about assigning too much meaning to dreams. But, if I may, I'd like to suggest a different explanation. At the end of your dream, your friend—Mike, right?—well, he compares life to a dream that you've convinced yourself is reality. If you think about it, however, dreams are real, at least on a lesser scale. What you're dreaming is taking place—inside your mind. Just not physically. When you wake up, you wake up to the physical reality. Compared to that, dreams seem illusory and unimportant.
“Your dream, I think, is arguing that life is the same. It's real, but there's a greater truth—a greater reality—that makes life seem like a dream in comparison.”
I stared at her. “Huh? What on earth does that mean?”
The sound of knocking interrupted us.
Dr. Cooper glanced at her watch. “I'd really like to continue this further, but my next appointment is here. Perhaps I can see you another time?”
I shook my head, unsatisfied with her answer. I tried to ask her to explain, but I couldn't focus over the sound of the knocking, which had grown from a faint, distant noise to an overwhelming clamor, incessantly clobbering inside my head and scrambling my thoughts.
Knock. Knock. Knock.
I surge awake, staring blindly around me for a moment before I recognize my surroundings. I'm in my room, my friend Mike sitting across from me, an annoyed expression on his face. His hand is lifted to knock on the table again, but he lets it fall. On the table are two open Maimonides.
“Well, welcome back to the world of the living. I didn't know I was that boring.”
I rub my eyes. “Sorry, Mike, I didn't get much sleep last night and I've been working on . . .” I sigh. “Sorry. You asked me something?”
“Yeah. We were learning what Maimonides says, that a person should serve G‑d because it is the truth and he loves the truth. And I asked you a question, which must have been really riveting, because you fell asleep.”
I glare at him. “Look, I said I'm sorry, Mikey. What was the question?”
“I asked you, even if Judaism is the truth, how does someone who's never known the truth recognize it when he sees it?”
I lean back in my chair and slowly smile. “I guess it's like waking up from a dream.”
Eli Landes was ordained as a rabbi in South Africa, and is working to complete his Bachelor of Arts. Currently residing in Brooklyn, N.Y., he enjoys blending the esoteric depths of Chassidus with the creativity of writing.© Copyright 2015, all rights reserved.
Parshah
How Joseph Maintained His Serenity By Rochel Holzkenner
The Baal Shem Tov instigated a grassroots revolution all across Europe, called Chassidism. At the center of the chassidic philosophy he placed the tenet of hashgachah pratit, divine providence, the belief that G‑d isreally in charge, managing every detail of our lives. He had many opponents who challenged him. Perhaps they were frightened that this belief would cause people to shirk responsibility and become passive. But the Baal Shem Tov taught that a true understanding of hashgachah pratit breeds proactivity, not passivity.
How’s that? An examination of the biblical account of Joseph’s narrative can shed light on the matter.In his mind it was G‑d, and only G‑d, directing his destiny
The Torah’s description of Joseph leaves no doubt that he was a man with an absolute commitment to his belief in divine providence. When Joseph reveals his true identity to his brothers, he helped them heal from their paralyzing guilt by sharing with them his take on being sold:
“But now do not be sad, and let it not trouble you that you sold me here, for it was to preserve life that G‑d sent me before you. For already two years of famine [have passed] in the midst of the land, and [for] another five years there will be neither plowing nor harvest. So G‑d sent me before you to make for you a remnant in the land, and to preserve [it] for you for a great deliverance.”1
True, his brothers had taken him, a precocious son in Jacob’s illustrious family, and converted him into a piece of meat to be auctioned off in a marketplace. But he wasn’t angry with them, because he didn’t consider them responsible for his humiliation. In his mind it was G‑d, and only G‑d, directing his destiny.
Joseph’s time in Egypt went from bad to worse. Initially he was sold to Potiphar, an Egyptian dignitary, where he was quite successful—but then he was arrested. His alleged crime was fabricated by Potiphar’s wife as revenge for Joseph’s rejecting her seductive advances. Joseph was forced to sit in prison for years.
All the while, Joseph remained true to his belief that G‑d was steering the course of his life, and that there was meaning behind all the chaos.
And then, one day, Joseph noticed that two of his fellow inmates were downcast. Pharaoh’s chief butler and chief baker had been imprisoned for culinary misdemeanors. Their pain concerned Joseph and he approached them. “Why do your faces look so down today?”
“We’ve had a dream,” they responded, “but there is no one to interpret it.”2
Joseph accurately interpreted their dreams. Two years later, the chief butler recommended Joseph to Pharaoh when he too had some disconcerting dreams. Joseph successfully interpreted Pharaoh’s dreams; the rest is history. He became Pharaoh’s viceroy, and saved Egypt and his entire family from starvation during the famine.
But let’s go back to his original question, which spawned the whole sequence of events that followed: “Why do your faces look so down today?”
If Joseph would have felt helpless and irate—the way almost anyone in his position would have felt—he would have been incapable of responding to anyone’s pain but his own. Angry people don’t notice other people who are hurting. And why would Joseph have reached out to employees of a government that had wrongfully imprisoned him?But Joseph wasn’t angry—not at the government, not at Potiphar’s wife, and not at his brothers
But Joseph wasn’t angry—not at the government, not at Potiphar’s wife, and not at his brothers. And as such, he retained his serenity even in jail.
And so Joseph was in tune with another person’s pain, and was therefore capable of doing that one small act of goodness and kindness. Little did he know that it would change the world.
The conviction that G‑d is right here, directing all that happens, is like a spiritual chiropractic adjustment—shifting our focus from frustration to curiosity. The instinctive response—“This is wrong; it shouldn’t have happened to me!!”—becomes: “This is an opportunity—why else would it happen to me?”
Our job is to look for opportunities to make a difference. And sometimes a small window of opportunity brings in a whole new world of fresh air.
This reminds me of the Rebbe’s response to a CNN reporter who stood on the famous “dollar lines” that formed every Sunday outside of Lubavitch World Headquarters. When his turn came and he stood before the Rebbe, he asked, “What is your message to the world?”
The Rebbe replied, “Moshiach is ready to come now. We all must only do something additional in the realm of goodness and kindness.”3
Rochel is a mother of four children and the co-director of Chabad of Las Olas, Fla., serving the community of young professionals. She is a high-school teacher and a freelance writer—and a frequent contributor to Chabad.org. She lectures extensively on topics of Kabbalah and feminism, and their application to everyday life. Rochel holds an MS in Brain Research from Nova SE University.
FOOTNOTES
1. Genesis 44:5–7.
2. Ibid. 40:7–8.
3.Based on a talk of the Lubavitcher Rebbe, given on Shabbat Parshat Miketz 5734.© Copyright 2015, all rights reserved.
Parshah
Tamar’s Twins By Menachem Feldman
Illustration by Sefira Ross.
The Torah is obviously fascinated with twins. Whenever the Torah describes the birth of twins, it goes into minute detail, as if we are the grandparents who are anxious to hear about every step of the labor and delivery.
When Tamar gives birth to her twins, the Torah gives us this detailed description:
While she was in labor, one [of the babies] stuck out his hand [from the womb]. The midwife took a scarlet thread and tied it on his hand to signify, "This one emerged first." [The baby then withdrew his hand.]
But as soon as he withdrew his hand, his brother emerged, and [his mother] said, "With what vigor have you pushed yourself ahead!" So [Judah] named him Peretz ["breaking through"].
Then his brother, who had the scarlet thread on his hand, emerged, and Judah named him Zerach ["shining"].1
Why do we need to know that one stretched out his hand, pulled it back, and the other burst ahead and emerged first? Why do we have to know that the midwife tied a crimson thread on his hand because she thought that he would be born first? What message is the Torah conveying?
The Two Paths
There are two paths we may walk on our journey in this world.
We can walk the bright and shiny path. We can strive to never succumb to evil temptation and to always make the right choices.
Or we may find ourselves on the more tricky path. We follow our heart, even when it directs us to places our mind cautions us to stay away from. Those of us on this second path make mistakes. We stumble. We lose our innocence. We probably cause pain to ourselves and to the people who love us. We may even reach a place of total spiritual darkness, a place where we can no longer hear the whispering voice of our G‑dly soul, directing us back to the path of life.
And then we burst forward.
We don’t know where we get the strength from. We are not sure if and how we will be able to rebuild our shattered relationships. We are not certain we will have the strength of character to sustain us as we push forward, trying to escape old habits.
But we burst forward and push ahead. And do all it takes to make it back to where we need to be.
And then we discover that by leaving that second path, we have come out ahead in the game of life.
While at the outset we should have taken the “firstborn” path, the path G‑d wanted us to choose, ultimately, we are now ahead. For the journey through the wilderness of life forces us to dig deeper, to mine our soul for spiritual courage, and to discover treasures that most people never find.
We discover within ourselves the power to burst through any challenge, to overcome any obstacle, and to shatter any roadblock. We discover that our commitment to the people and ideas we hold dear is unbreakable. The strength needed to burst forward and get us back on the right path is now channeled to sustain and nurture our commitments.
“One [of the babies] stuck out his hand [from the womb]. The midwife took a scarlet thread and tied it on his hand to signify, ‘This one emerged first.’" We recognize that our “midwife”—G‑d—tells us to take the first path, the path of the shiny crimson string. It’s the path of a Zerach, one who “shines.” It’s the path that the Torah is pointing toward.
And yet, if we fail to take the preferred path, if we find ourselves in the dark, we must know that we can be a Peretz—one who “bursts forward.” The Torah tells us that, ultimately, Peretz is the one who achieves greatness and becomes the ancestor of King David and the future Moshiach.
For the perfection of the world will be achieved not by those who never experienced pain, but by those whose pain was transformed into fuel. As Tamar exclaimed upon the birth of Peretz, "With what vigor have you pushed yourself ahead!"
Strive to stretch out your hand and reach for the crimson path of Zerach. But if you fail, burst forward like Peretz. You will be the firstborn. You will achieve more than anyone would dream possible.2
Rabbi Menachem Feldman serves as the director of the Lifelong Learning department at the Chabad Lubavitch Center in Greenwich, CT.
FOOTNOTES
1. Genesis 38:27-30.
2. Based on Likutei Sichot vol. 30, pg. 188.© Copyright 2015, all rights reserved.
Parshah
Where Are Jews Truly At Home? By Lazer Gurkow
Illustration by Sefira Ross.
The story is told of a chassid who would travel on business to St. Petersburg and return home to his rebbe’s court. In St. Petersburg he would don modern attire and mingle with his business colleagues; at home he reverted to the chassid’s garb.
Feeling uncomfortable with the constant switching, he decided to wear his modern attire at home. The rebbe looked at him strangely, and the chassid explained that this was his business attire. The rebbe assured him that he had already deduced as much. “But,” said the rebbe, “I thought you were at home in the chassid’s garb and the modern attire was your business costume. Now I see that the opposite is true. You are at home in your modern attire, and the chassid’s garb is your costume.”
Whether we are in medicine, law, academics or business, we dress up every day, leave home and head into the world. We don a personality that suits our environment and work hard to succeed. We return at the end of the day, wash up, and revert to our real personality. We go back to being a father, a mother, a member of the family. We learn Torah with our children, celebrate Shabbat and holidays, chant the blessings over our food, and pray morning and night.
The question is, where are we at home? Where do we feel that we fit in and belong? Are we better suited to our secular, professional persona, or are we most comfortable in our Jewish selves? Which is the real me and which is the dress-up me?
In Exile
When our ancestors were exiled to Babylon, they were unhappy in their distant home. They sat at the shores of the Euphrates and cried for Jerusalem. A mere 70 years later, when the exile ended, many Jews had grown so comfortable in exile that they had to be coerced to leave.1
When we were exiled to Europe, we felt like foreign transplants. The Europeans didn’t welcome us; they discriminated against us and persecuted us. We built ghettos and strove to create mini Jerusalems behind the ghetto walls. We didn’t assimilate into the European culture. We lived in Europe, but its culture was foreign to us. Europe was our home, but we were never at home there.
Then came the emancipation, and the entire culture shifted. We began to dream of liberty and equality. We began to speak the gentiles’ language and adopt gentile values. We yearned for the gentiles’ acceptance and aspired to full integration. We began to dream the gentile dream. But we never succeeded. The Jews were never embraced by Europe. They continued to hate us and discriminate against us. And when the Nazis came to slaughter us, our European friends conveniently “forgot” us.
Jacob and Joseph
This is reminiscent of what happened to our forefather Jacob. The Torah tells us that “Jacob settled in the land of his father’s sojourns.” Jacob settled in and began to feel at home in his father’s land. Isaac was a sojourner in the land; he never felt at home there. He felt at home only in the synagogue and study hall. Jacob settled in the land—he wasn’t a sojourner; he felt right at home.2
Jacob was able to settle into the mundane and earthly lifestyle of field work without compromising his wholesome spirituality.3 Yet, Jacob was breaking new ground, and all beginnings are fraught with risk. What came easily to Jacob had a corrupting influence on Joseph. The moment Jacob settled in and began to feel at home, he was beset by the tragedy of Joseph.
At first, Joseph had grandiose dreams of conquering the world with his monotheistic ideals. He dreamed of the sun and moon prostrating before him. He had visions of sheaves in the field bowing to him. The workers and the nobles, the peasants and the rulers, would all bow to Joseph’s teachings of Torah and G‑d.
But with time, Joseph temporarily stopped thinking of those triumphs. He moved to Egypt and became self-absorbed. He stopped dreaming Jewish dreams and began to interpret Egyptian dreams. He associated with Egyptian royals and Egyptian behaviors.4
We too must ask, where do we stand? Are we Americans, Europeans, Australians . . . or are we Jews? Are we “at home” in the synagogue and sojourners on the outside, or are we “at home” outside and sojourners in the synagogue?
You can spend most of your day at work without your workplace becoming home. You can also spend most of your life in the diaspora without making it your home. If we are Jewish, then Israel is our home. We are in the diaspora for a purpose—to help make these lands holier and more G‑dly places. But that is our job. It’s not our home.
When the diaspora becomes our home, when we grow comfortable with the non-Jewish culture, music, holidays and values, when we measure time by the secular calendar and forget the Jewish date, we slowly, without realizing, lose touch with our Jewish selves. We begin to identify more with our neighbors than our people. We adopt their dreams, their ideals and their values.
What happens next? Well, let’s look at what happened to Joseph. He placed his hope in the hands of the royal butler and was bitterly disappointed. As the Torah puts it, the butler “forgot” him.5 Just as our European neighbors conveniently “forgot” us when the Nazis came to slaughter us.
How Do We Respond?
We do what Joseph did. He realized his error and returned to his faith in G‑d. When he was summoned to interpret Pharaoh’s dreams, he gave full credence to G‑d and to the message that G‑d had sent through the dream.6 From this point onward, Joseph became even more adept than his father at remaining true to his identity, despite being integrated within Egyptian culture. Joseph succeeded in his work and transformed the whole of Egypt. Everyone bowed to him, but it wasn’t really to him. It was to his divine message and Torah ethos.
Never again did Joseph think of Egypt as home. For him, Israel would forever be home. Indeed, before his passing he instructed that his remains be transported to Israel for burial.
And some two centuries later, Joseph was finally home.
We too must return to the synagogue, to Israel, to Judaism and to Torah. On that day, we too will finally be home.
Rabbi Lazer Gurkow is spiritual leader of Congregation Beth Tefilah in London, Ontario, and a frequent contributor to The Judaism Website—Chabad.org. He has lectured extensively on a variety of Jewish topics, and his articles have appeared in many print and online publications. For more on Rabbi Gurkow and his writings, visit InnerStream.ca.
FOOTNOTES
1. Psalm 147. Ezra 8:15-19.
2. Genesis 37:1. See Rashi, Kli Yakar and Latorah V’lamoadim by Rabbi S. Y. Zevin.
3. Torat Menachem 10, p. 204.
4. Genesis 39:6. See Rashi to Genesis 39:11 and Rashi to Genesis 40:8, 12, 18. On the other hand, see Rashi to Genesis 40:1.
5. Genesis 40:23, see Rashi.
6. Genesis 41:16, 25, 24, 32. It bears noting that he did not mention G‑d when interpreting the butler’s dream.© Copyright 2015, all rights reserved.VIDEO
What the Chassidic New Year Means to You
An engaging, fresh, and practical take on the day celebrated as the New Year of Chassidism.
Watch (2:17)<script language="javascript" type="text/javascript" src="http://embed.chabad.org/multimedia/mediaplayer/embedded/embed.js.asp?aid=3148254&width=auto&height=auto"></script><span style="clear:both;" class="lb" id="lbdiv">Visit <a href="http://www.chabad.org/multimedia/default_cdo/aid/591213/jewish/Video.htm">Jewish.TV</a> for more <a href="http://www.chabad.org/multimedia/default_cdo/aid/591213/jewish/Video.htm">Jewish videos</a>.</span>
You Can Be a Hakhel Jew
When the Temple stood, the Jewish people would gather from all over the Land of Israel for hakhel, to hear the King read from the Torah in the Holy Temple. This event occurred every seven years.
Watch (6:46)http://www.chabad.org/therebbe/livingtorah/player_cdo/aid/3107177/jewish/You-Can-Be-a-Hakhel-Jew.htm
http://www.chabad.org/3107177
The Miracle of Chanukah
Watch these kids re-enact the story of Chanukah in 5 minutes! (Performed by students at the Orlando Jewish Day School and the Chai Preschool)
Watch (5:28)
<script language="javascript" type="text/javascript" src="http://embed.chabad.org/multimedia/mediaplayer/embedded/embed.js.asp?aid=2806517&width=auto&height=auto"></script><span style="clear:both;" class="lb" id="lbdiv">Visit <a href="http://www.chabad.org/multimedia/default_cdo/aid/591213/jewish/Video.htm">Jewish.TV</a> for more <a href="http://www.chabad.org/multimedia/default_cdo/aid/591213/jewish/Video.htm">Jewish videos</a>.</span>Chanukah Essay
Stop the Dreidel! By Naftali Silberberg
Illustration by Sefira Ross.
What color is the bar of soap sitting on your bathroom counter? What is the pattern on your socks? Floral? Plaid? Solid?
To many people, these questions are irrelevant. They purchase their preferred brand of soap (or the cheapest one on the store's shelf) regardless of its color. And in the morning they don the first pair of socks they fish out of the drawer.
But to others, those with an eye for design, the choice isn't so simple. Their lavatory has a motif, and every item displayed there has to match the unique décor. And socks aren't just to keep feet warm, or shoes sweat-free; they complete the thematic ensemble, complementing the wardrobe du jour. No part stands on its own; every component is just one piece of a large picture.
How does the dreidelembody the Chanukah message?Every Jewish holiday is comprised of many components: its history, laws, customs, traditional foods, etc. Each component was put in place by the Master Designer, or individuals whom He inspired, in accordance with the particular holiday's singular message. Some of the components are obvious expressions of the holiday's motif, while others require thought to uncover their profound relation to the holiday's unique message.
So, where does that leave the traditional dreidel game? How does the dreidel embody the Chanukah message?
(For those readers unfamiliar with this delightful Chanukah pastime, check out this short Dreidel Wizard.)
What's striking about the dreidel is that its "religious" aspect isn't always apparent. In other words, the four Hebrew letters that form the acronym for the phrase "A great miracle happened there," are not discernable while it's spinning. At that point it looks entirely letter-less, no different than any other spinning top available at your local dollar store.
Life is eerily reminiscent of a dreidel game. In the course of our dizzyingly hectic day-to-day existence we are often too preoccupied to notice the "letters"; the small and big miracles that accompany us every day.
Every once in a while we have to give the spinning dreidel a break and reflect on its message: "a big miracle transpired there."
And that's precisely what Chanukah is all about. Some 2,100 years ago our nation's collective dreidel came to an abrupt halt, and the divine letters that animate and direct all of creation came into plain view. For eight days, the glow of the Temple's menorah illuminated a reality that the Greeks had attempted to obscure: there is a hand that controls every event and occurrence.
Two millennia later, the message of Chanukah remains the same. As we sit by the menorah, or even while we indulge in the game that is our national Chanukah pastime, it is time for us to find the miracle letters in our own lives.
One more point:
When the letters come into focus it is time to react, there's little time to sit with your mouth openWhen the dreidel comes to a rest, there isn't too much time to ponder; the game has got to continue. You have to give or take, depending on the letter the dreidel is now displaying. Only if you are (un)lucky enough to have landed a nun do you get to meditate a bit longer... When the letters come into focus it is time to react, there's little time to sit with your mouth open.
Give: G‑d gave you miracles, it's time now to contribute back to the cause. Now it's your turn to make a miracle in someone else's life
Take: Take upon yourself to introduce an added dose of spirituality in your life -- a Torah class or an additional mitzvah.
Or, you can think a bit longer. But not too long. The Maccabees didn't accomplish their feat through prolonged meditation sessions...
Rabbi Naftali Silberberg is a writer, editor and director of the curriculum department at the Rohr Jewish Learning Institute. Rabbi Silberberg resides in Brooklyn, New York, with his wife, Chaya Mushka, and their three children.© Copyright 2015, all rights reserved.
Lifestyle
How to Decorate Doughnuts Like a Pro By Miriam Szokovski
Of course you need a good, fluffy dough, but let's face it—a huge part of doughnuts is the decorating.
There's good old powdered sugar, but there are also all kinds of glazes, sprinkles and other toppings.
There are two main ways to glaze doughnuts: dipping and pouring.
Dip each doughnut into your preferred glaze. Then dip into the sprinkles or other topping of your choice.
Spoon or drizzle the glaze over the doughnut. Allow the excess glaze to drip down the sides. Add the sprinkles of your choice. Leave the doughnut in one place until the glaze sets, then pick it up and leave the mess behind.
Some other things to keep in mind:
To make colorful glazes, make a basic white glaze (recipe below), then divide into multiple small bowls and add a few drops of food coloring to each.
Sprinkles come in mixed containers, but you can also buy separate ones. Separate ones give you more control over your color combinations and means you can leave out colors that might not complement your frosting color (for the slightly obsessive among us!).
Aside from colorful, chocolate and non-pareil sprinkles, you can use colored sugar, pearls or chopped candy (like chocolate lentils, or hard candies such as butterscotch or peppermint). Use your imagination—the possibilities are tremendous!
Decorating doughnuts can be a fun chanukah party activity for kids and also adults. Prepare assorted glazes and toppings and let your family and friends knock themselves out.
Ice cube trays or cupcake pans are a good way to sort your toppings. Put one in the middle of the table (or several if you have a long table with many people) and people can decorate to taste.
Here are some of my favorite glaze recipes:
Classic White Glaze Ingredients:
1 cup confectioners sugar
1 tsp. vanilla extract
2 tbsp. milk (dairy or non-dairy) or hot water water
Sift confectioner’s sugar into a bowl. Add the vanilla and the milk or hot water 1 tablespoon at a time, mixing with a spoon in one direction until frosting is smooth.
Optional: Divide the glaze into separate bowls and add a couple of drops of food coloring to each in the colors of the your choice.
Lemon Glaze
1 cup confectioners sugar
2 tbsp. hot water
a generous squeeze of fresh lemon
Sift the confectioner’s sugar into a bowl. Add the hot water 1 tablespoon at a time, mixing with a spoon in one direction until frosting is smooth. Add a squeeze of fresh lemon juice.
Chocolate Glaze
1¼ cups confectioner’s sugar
½ cup cocoa
¼ tsp. salt
3-4 tbsp. hot water
Sift cocoa powder and confectioner’s sugar into a bowl. Add salt. Whisk with a fork to combine. Add the hot water 1 tablespoon at a time, mixing with a spoon in one direction until frosting is smooth.
Cinnamon Sugar Coating
½ cup sugar
1-2 tbsp. cinnamon
Fry doughnuts and remove from oil. Dip doughnuts in the cinnamon-sugar mixture immediately, to coat. NOTE: If you're using baked doughnuts, first dip the doughnuts in melted butter, then in the cinnamon-sugar.
Need a good dough recipe? Try this one.
What's your favorite type of doughnut?
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.
Jewish News
When a Little Boy in Hawaii Chose Between Soccer and Kippah
By Menachem Posner
Yossi Weinbaum, left, and his soccer team in Hawaii. The 9-year-old left a game this season when a referee asked him to remove his kipah (after he was required to tuck in his tzitzit).
Yudi Weinbaum is passionate about many things—chief among them, Judaism, with soccer trailing behind as a close second.
So he really took it to heart when his normally cheerful son, Yossi, came home from a recent soccer match almost in tears.
“I don’t know what happened,” said the 9-year-old, who is home-schooled and takes classes at Chabad of Hawaii in Honolulu. “Before we began playing, the referee saw my tzitzit hanging out of my shirt and told me I couldn’t play unless I took them off or cut off the strings.”
The referee claimed that the tzitzit somehow broke the ban on wearing extra sporting equipment to the game.
Unsure of how to proceed, Yossi—who had been playing soccer since he was 6 and had never encountered a problem like this before—took the advice of his coach to tuck in his tzitzit and get back on the field, joining his teammates on “Hawaii 808.” Within minutes, he scored a goal, and things appeared to be back to normal.
It took until the second half before the referee noticed his kipah and ordered him to remove it or leave the game. So Yossi walked off the field, knowing that was non-negotiable.
“This was something that had never happened before,” says coach Tye Yamada, who had been coaching children’s soccer for five years. “Yossi is one of our most reliable offensive players, and we’ve never had any issues. Boys should not have to sit out of games for reasons of religion.”
Yossi Weinbaum, left
Weinbaum comforted his son, assuring him that he had done the right thing. It was the day before Sukkot, so after the holiday ended, he and his wife, Estee, set about to address the issue.
“We suspected that this was either the result of ignorance or anti-Semitism, and we wanted to clear the air as fast as we could,” says Weinbaum, a London native who runs Hawaii’s only kosher-catering business, Oahu Kosher. “I immediately wrote an email to the coach asking him to look into it.”
In the past, they say, Yamada and his co-coach, Michael Lancet, had always been supportive of Yossi missing practice and games, for example, when it coincided with the Sabbath or Jewish holidays.
‘A Great Unifier’
Within days, the family was gratified to learn that the incident was the result of unawareness on the part of the individual referee, and they were assured that it would not happen again.
“Please let your son know that we wholeheartedly support him, in his religious convictions and his wearing of religious attire at soccer games,” wrote Phil Neddo, Oahu League President. “Furthermore, we have asked the State Referee Committee about measures by which referees can be made more aware of the allowances of non-dangerous religious attire, more alert to situations where a player might fall under that rule, and as sensitive as possible to the diverse backgrounds and religions of all participants.”
After receiving an equally sincere letter from the offending referee, who said he honestly did not know what tzitzit were, the Weinbaums say they felt confident enough to send Yossi back onto the field.
“Soccer is a great unifier, bringing together people from different cultures and backgrounds,” says Weinbaum, himself a long-time fan of the Liverpool F.C. (Football Club). “It was so refreshing that this unpleasant incident served to open more doors and educate others about the Jewish people, and our unique faith and traditions.”
As for Yamada, he adds that he’s grateful that Yossi is again with the team, dribbling and dragging the ball towards the goal: “He is one of our strongest, most fearless players, and it’s good to have him back.”© Copyright 2015, all rights reserved.
Jewish News
A Whirlwind Trip of a Lifetime at Wedding of Grieving Couple
By Sarah Leah Lawent
Chana Devora Solomon, right, co-director of Chabad at Short Hills in New Jersey, says she felt like she was a part of Jewish history at the wedding of Sarah Techiya Litman and Ariel Biegel.
JERUSALEM—It was the trip of a lifetime for the visitors who flew into Israel at practically the last minute—some of them student raffle winners, some of them representatives of their communities back home, and all of them wanting to show their support for Jewish victims of terror, and fulfill the mitzvah of bringing joy to a young bride who lost her father and brother a week before her wedding.
“We all were so motivated and grateful to be part of this group,” said Maia Sirkin, 19, a neuroscience major from Binghamton University in Upstate New York. “We all wanted to celebrate this wedding—to be part of something that would show that we cannot be defeated by terrorism, that our answer is in our Jewish unity, our faith in G‑d and our love for each other.”
Chana Devora Solomon, co-director of Chabad at Short Hills in New Jersey, says she felt like she was being a part of Jewish history. “It was such a zchus, a privilege, to be able to go,” she said. “And I wasn’t alone. I felt like I represented each and every Jew in my community, each and every Jew in America. Before I left, the doorbell never stopped ringing as people brought over envelopes and letters, including from local schoolchildren, for me to hand to the family, knowing that they would be counted as having been there.”
Rabbi Yaakov Litman, his wife and their two sons were attacked by terrorists on Nov. 13 in the Hebron Hills while making their way to spend a Shabbat in honor of their daughter, Sarah Techiya, and her groom-to-be, Ariel Biegel. The 40-year-old rabbi and his 18-year-old son Netanel were slain; his wife and other son were wounded.
The couple changed their Nov. 17 wedding plans, moving it forward a week to Nov. 26, and unexpectedly issued a wedding invitation to Jewish people around the world in a plea to turn tragedy into joy in memory of their loved ones. To accommodate what they hoped would be hordes of celebrants, the ceremony was to be held at one of the largest venues in Jerusalem—Binyanei Hauma, the International Convention Center.
‘Such a Cohesive Group’
And respond they did. An immediate outpouring of support came from around the world as Jews far and wide hurried to make plans to be there for the bride and groom.
Student representatives of Chabad on Campus with the bride.
The six students who comprised the student delegation came from the University of Ottawa in Ontario, Canada; Rockland County Community College in Suffern, N.Y.; Albert Einstein College of Medicine in New York City; Binghamton University in Upstate New York; and Queens College, City University of New York. The student group was led by Rabbi Dov Oliver, director of the Center of Jewish Life at Rockland Community College, and by Rabbi Yossi Witkes, a representative of Chabad of Campus International.
Organizers pointed out how the wedding was a striking example of Jewish unity in this Hakhel year, when Jews gather together in groups to learn Torah, and to perform acts of goodness and kindness together.
“It was such a cohesive group,” said Sirkind. “As each of us boarded the flight, you could sense the fierce love of Israel and fellow Jews that bonded us together. And the things students brought to us from our schools to personally give to the couple—gifts, letters—such a show of love, caring and unity. I believe we each felt that it was a privilege to be part of this.”
The visitors recalled the vast and varied emotions at the wedding ceremony. “The bride was so beautiful and so very sweet,” recalled Sirkind. “Rabbi Oliver presented the gift from the Chabad on Campus students back home, and explained who we were and from where we had come, and you could just see on her face how deeply she was touched.”
Sirkin added that they were allowed to be present during the solemn but joyous bedeken (veiling) ritual, “which was even more moving because she did not have her father there.”
“At the chuppah itself, there was a sadness to all the joy when they spoke about Sarah’s murdered father and brother. Both the bride and groom were so emotional, yet you could feel their immovable, unrelenting strength at the same time. And I kept thinking to myself, ‘This is crazy—that a random raffle would result in us being here, all passionate about Israel, the Jewish people, now singing, dancing and taking part in this momentous occasion.’ ”
Rabbi Dov Oliver, director of the Center of Jewish Life at Rockland Community College in Suffern, N.Y., presents the bride with gifts and letters on behalf of students and emissaries of Chabad on Campus.
For Asher Fishman, 21, a business major at Rockland Community College, it was a bit of a homecoming.
He had spent the past three years in Israel, first studying in a yeshivah in Beit Shemesh, then then volunteering for the Israel Defense Forces and serving in the Golani Brigade. Following his military service, he returned to New York to study and spend time with his family before making aliyah. He even traveled to Sharon, Mass., to attend the funeral of Ezra Schwartz, an 18-year-old yeshivah student also recently killed by terrorists.
“When the groom called out, right before breaking the glass under his foot, “If I forget Thee, O Jerusalem ... when he called that out with such emotion in his voice, it was impossible not to weep, as well as rejoice, with him,” recalled Fishman.
Other Mitzvahs While in Israel
Although the wedding was the focal point of the group’s traveling to Israel, that was by no means the only mitzvah the students accomplished.
While there, accompanied by representatives of Chabad Terror Victims Project (CTVP) they paid shiva visits to two other families mourning the loss of loved ones at the hands of terrorists: Ziv Mizrahi of Giv’at Ze’ev, who was stabbed to death on Nov. 23 at a gas station on the road to Jerusalem; and Hadar Buchris, 21, of Tzfat, who was murdered Nov. 22 in a stabbing attack near Gush Etzion while waiting for a ride.
Fishman and Sirkind expressed how the entire group was moved by the warm reception they received by the grieving families, and how touched the families were at the show of love from Jews from across the globe who came expressly to offer their condolences.
Adam Algrissy from Camden County, N.J., represented his community.
“Mrs. Mizrahi was, of course, in rough shape, but as she looked at us, and we explained who we were and where we were from, there was an overwhelming emotion that shone in her eyes. It was moving beyond words,” described Sirkind.
Oliver and Fishman related how the group also paid visits to terror victims at Shaare Zedek Hospital, where they were joined by Eli Muchnik, a rabbinical student who entertained the injured and their families. “When we got there, we were, of course, quite lost. So we wound up at the elevator and when the doors opened, lo and behold, out walks a man whom we had seen at the Mizrahi shiva.
“He asked us what we were doing there. So we told him, and he directed us. But when we asked him why he was at the hospital, he told us he was visiting his mother, who was very ill. So we went to cheer her up, and wish her a speedy and complete recovery. She was really quite taken by the whole thing. And her son? ‘Ah, Chabad,’ he said. ‘You are always there when needed, no matter what.’ ”
The group was also quite moved by their visit to a Druze soldier who had been injured in a terror attack.
As Oliver put it: “It was incredible. The mother of this soldier, she turned to us and said, “My mother taught me, and I have taught my children, that we must always stay very close to the Jews. They are a very special people, and G‑d put them on Earth for a very special reason. I respect the Jewish people because they do not judge by what you look like, but rather by who you really are.”
After the whirlwind trip—the flight, the wedding, Shabbat, the shiva calls and the hospital visits, the group is now heading back home. They all said it had been one of the most important and emotional experiences in their lives.
Students joined the Chabad Terror Victims Project for a visit to two families whose children were recently killed in terror attacks.
“To me, this wedding wasn’t only a wedding; it was a statement and an action,” said Solomon. “We had been hearing about terror attack after terror attack, and this girl, who had just undergone perhaps the worst thing a person could imagine—the worst tragedy and horror—her response was to make a stance, to invite every single Jew to celebrate at her wedding, to fight a wave of terror with a tsunami of joy. She called out to me, ‘Let’s stand and fight together; we’ll dance and sing together.’
“And when she stood under her chuppah and saw the thousands who had come to celebrate with her and to be with each other, it was a victory—her wish was realized.
“I was ushered in to the wedding a short while before the doors opened to the general public and was brought to the bride’s mother," continued Solomon. “I could see all the sorrow and joy she had already gone through, and with the wedding taking place, I could see she still had an untapped well of emotion. As she looked at me, I could see the sadness, the joy and the sisterhood in her eyes. And then we danced.”
Visiting families at a second house of mourning.
Students joined Colel Chabad's Pantry Packers, making up food packages for the hungry.© Copyright 2015, all rights reserved.
Jewish News
In the Frigid Calm After the Storm, Spokane Rabbi Sets an Example
By Faygie Levy Holt
Rabbi Yisroel Hahn, co-director of Chabad of Spokane County in Washington, delivered cups of hot coffee to workers and families affected by a recent storm that knocked down trees and power lines for miles, leaving many residents in the cold and dark for days.
Rabbi Yisroel Hahn, co-director of Chabad of Spokane County in Washington, went to a local Starbucks this past Thursday and proceeded to order coffee. Not just a cup of coffee, but entire carafes of it. He was planning to take the hot beverages to workers still repairing downed power lines in his neighborhood after a storm whipped through town more than a week ago.
But everywhere he went, utility workers already had some, often with a sandwich in the other hand. It was a far cry from a day or two beforehand, when the local KHQ TV station accompanied the rabbi as he delivered hot coffee to utility-company employees who were working around the clock.
Reporter Liz Burch was so impressed that she ended her report noting that a good deed is called a “mitzvah” in Hebrew, saying: “Tonight, Rabbi Hahn’s challenge, regardless of your faith, is to go out and do something good for people who have been affected by this devastating storm.”
“It really had the desired effect,” noted Hahn. “It said to other people: ‘Don’t just sit in your home during a crisis. Go outside and see what you can do to help.”
It was a powerful turn of events more than a week after a crippling windstorm toppled 100-foot-tall pine trees and power lines throughout the city of Spokane. The wind began howling on Tuesday, Nov. 17, and within hours, life came to a standstill as officials ordered residents to “shelter in place” because it was too dangerous to go outside.
“The trees started shaking, and my wife [co-director Chaya Sara Hahn] said the toys in the yard were flying everywhere. Then the trees just started falling down,” recalled the rabbi. “We had a 100-foot tree that snapped like a twig and came crashing down. It just nipped my neighbor’s house; he was lucky. The neighbor behind me had tree fall onto another neighbor’s car. Everywhere you went, there was destruction and havoc. It was like a war zone; I’ve never seen anything like it.”
Utility employees worked around the clock trying to restore power to about 150,000 customers in the wake of the storm.
Days in the Cold and Dark
Then the power went out. As temperatures plummeted and night fell, the Hahn family—like more than 150,000 of their neighbors throughout the city—bundled up and did the best they could to stay warm.
The next day, still without electricity or heat, the Hahns organized a barbecue for those who needed something warm to eat. Despite the darkness, about 25 people came to their home for hot dogs. Thanks to a small generator, some even managed to recharge their cell phones.
As the weather turned colder—and with five children under 10, including a baby—the Hahns accepted an invitation for the family to spend Shabbat in Tacoma with fellow Chabad emissaries Rabbi Shneur Zalman and Miriam Heber of Chabad of Pierce County. Afterwards, said Rabbi Hahn, “I felt I needed to go help others and see what I could do.”
When he returned home, the power was still off in his house, but some families he knew had electricity and heat. He asked if they would make some hot soup. They readily agreed and began cooking.
Meanwhile, he drove to a local Starbucks and bought a couple dozen cups of coffee. He went door to door offering the hot drinks to people in his neighborhood, many of whom he didn’t know. They were both surprised and heartened to see him, he reported.
“People were spending days in the dark and cold, and I wanted them to know that someone cared and was thinking about them,” said Hahn. “They had [packaged] food, but they needed something warm.”
People were so appreciative, saying they would continue the mitzvah.
Next, a call went out for volunteers to help deliver the soup. With flashlights leading the way, four groups of volunteers made their way into the night with containers of piping-hot soup. “We went in the pitch, pitch dark, knocking on people’s doors with the soup,” he described. “They were so touched that someone remembered them, that someone cared enough to deliver something warm—something to warm your hands, your face, your insides. It’s just the perfect thing.”
As the days dragged on, the rabbi continued to help his neighbors, but saw that no one was doing anything for the utility crews, who were working 12-, 14-, even 16-hour shifts to restore power to the masses.
So he went back to Starbucks, ordering coffees and making deliveries in person, going from work crew to work crew, and snapping happy pictures along the way.
“Through the coffee, a little warmth is offered today,” attested Burch during her on-air TV piece.
Throughout the week, Rabbi Hahn kept recalling a story that was told of the Lubavitcher Rebbe—Rabbi Menachem M. Schneerson, of righteous memory—who as a small boy in Russia would give sweets to the even younger children to calm them down while they were in hiding during a rash of pogroms.
“The Rebbe was obsessed with kindness and taught us to do the same,” said Hahn.
The rabbi brought hot coffee to the workers, who voiced their appreciation.
In all, the Hahns were without power for eight days—the same number of days celebrated during the holiday of Chanukah, which begins on Sunday evening, Dec. 6.
The rabbi believes that the timing holds special significance. To that end, on Sunday, he is planning to go with a group of volunteers to gather fallen pine trees and use them to create a menorah that will be displayed in the city center.
“We are going to use pine trees that took away our warmth and electricity to use as tools of doing just that—providing warmth and light to the people ofSpokane,” he said.
Reflecting back on the last two weeks, Rabbi Hahn related: “What I’ve learned through this is that the hardest and most depressing part was not the cold and darkness, but not being able to be productive. I realized what motivated me was the thought: What else can I do? It’s dark and cold; I can’t see or read or use the Internet. The only thing I could do—and the only thing that would make me feel productive—was to go out and see how I can help other people. And that’s what I did.”
To help others in the aftermath of the Washington storm, visit the Chabad donations page here.
The storm hit on Nov. 17, followed by plummeting temperatures the workers had to contend with.
Huge pine trees were toppled by the winds, crushing cars in their wake. The rabbi plans to use some of the wood to created a menorah this Chanukah in the city center.
The trees, as tall as 100 feet, fell randomly, causing serious damage to vehicles and power lines.
The rabbi reported that everywhere he went, “there was destruction and havoc.”
The rabbi also orchestrated a local effort to get hot soup to residents without heat or electricity. A core of Jewish volunteers cooked the soup and delivered at nighjt, in what they described as “pitch black.”
Hahn wanted people to know that others cared and tried to do something to bring them a little warmth.
The coffee brought instant reactions from recipients, grateful for the cup and the company.
Passing along a kindness and relishing the reaction.© Copyright 2015, all rights reserved.
Jewish News
Worldwide Events to Mark ‘the New Year of Chassidism’ in This Hakhel Year
By Menachem Posner
Rabbi Yoel Kahn will again be a featured speaker at the 19 Kislev event that packs the International Convention Center in Jerusalem every year. (File Photo: Meir Alfassi)
With less than a week to go before Chanukah, 400 members of the Jewish community in Tbilisi, Georgia, will soon be gathering over some hot drinks and refreshments.
Like Jewish people around the globe, they will observe two days of commemoration and celebration of the 19th and 20th of the Hebrew month of Kislev—corresponding this year to Tuesday, Dec. 1, and Wednesday, Dec. 2—known as “the New Year of Chassidism.”
The 19th of Kislev (Yud Tes Kislev) marks the day in 1798 that a Czarist commission acquitted and freed from imprisonment the first Chabad Rebbe—Rabbi Schneur Zalman of Liadi, known as the “Alter Rebbe”—on charges that included subverting the government in St. Petersburg and aiding the Ottoman Empire. It is also the anniversary of passing of his mentor, Rabbi Dov Ber of Mezerich in 1772.
The acquittal is regarded in Chassidic circles as signaling a heavenly decree that the rabbi’s teachings should be publicly disseminated. As a result, the annual daily study cycle of the Tanya—Rabbi Schneur Zalman’s seminal work of Chassidic thought—will begin anew on that day as well.
“This is a celebration that has a uniquely Chabad aspect to it,” says Rabbi Meir Kozlovskly, who has headed Chabad in the former Soviet nation since 2003. “It draws people from across the community—from people who have been attending since our first massive 19 Kislev event five years ago to people who are stepping foot in a Jewish event for the first time.”
The first part of the celebration, which will be housed in a convention center, will feature a Jewish bazaar where people can sip warm drinks and mingle among booths representing the local Chabad day school, kindergarten, camp and other institutions.
Jewish.tv will be streaming a farbrengen on Tuesday night from Chicago with Rabbi Yitzchok Schochet of London.
The rabbi expects to see particular interest around a Judaica booth featuring art and religious supplies specially imported from Israel. (Since the country has no Judaica shops, there is a high demand for such items.) Another unique booth will feature Chabad Rabbi Ben Zion Israelashvili, who is also a trained scribe. Attendees will have the opportunity to purchase a letter in a Torah scroll he is currently writing for the community and then actually watch him inscribe their letter.
The second part of the program will feature a festive farbrengen (informal Chassidic gathering).Over laden tables, the crowd will hear from Rabbi Yosef Mirilashvili, a leading rabbi in the Georgian-Jewish community in Israel. Among other topics, his talk will focus on the unique contributions that the Chassidic movement has brought to the Jewish world—a theme that will echo at concurrent celebrations all over.
Although the language will be different, much of the music and sentiments will be similar to those shared in the U.S. Pacific Northwest by Rabbi Nissan Kornfeld, co-director of Chabad Mercer Island in Washington, who will be the guest speaker at the annual 19 Kislev farbrengen in Vancouver, Canada, on Sunday night.
According to Rabbi Schneur Wineberg of Chabad-Lubavitch of British Columbia, the annual celebrations generally draw approximately 100 local residents, who have come to relish the inspiration and learning that’s part and parcel of the day’s observance.
While most communities gather in synagogues or halls for 19 Kislev celebrations, the Jews of Kharkov, Ukraine, have the custom to travel to Haditch, the burial place of the Alter Rebbe, every year on this day. The group is led by Rabbi Levi Raices, rosh yeshivah of the city’s yeshivah high school, which makes the trek along with the wider community.
Chana Weisberg will be a featured speaker at a 19 Kislev event for women in Brooklyn.
In Brooklyn, N.Y., giant celebrations will be held in a number of neighborhoods, including one in Crown Heights just for women organized by the Lubavitch Women’s Organization. Among those slated to speak for the expected crowd of 500-plus are Nechama Shaki, and noted author and TheJewishWoman.org editor Chana Weisberg. Shaki will share how the Rebbe’s words to her husband, former member of Knesset Avner Shaki (NRP) have had a long-lasting impact. Weisberg’s talk will focus on the Alter Rebbe’s path to self-discovery.
Just across the Hudson River, students at Yeshivah University are preparing for a sale of Chassidic books that will be followed by a farbrengen with YU mashpia (mentor), Rabbi Moshe Weinberger; and Chabad scholar and teacher, Rabbi Shlomo Yaffe.
Three Days of Activity in Jerusalem
Perhaps one of the largest 19 Kislev celebrations in the world will take place in Binyanei Hauma, Jerusalem’s International Convention Center—a three-day affair that has grown to include giant Chassidic book fairs, farbrengens, classes and more. Tens of thousands are expected to participate in a series of events that will feature big-ticket speakers such as Rabbi Yehoshua Shapira, Rabbi Shabtai Slavaticki, Dr. Yechiel Harari, Rebbetzin Yemima Mizrachi and others.
Rousing Chassidic melodies will be led by Avraham Fried, Yonatan Razel and Eviatar Banai, and the Malchus Choir.
At the central event, the main speaker will be Rabbi Yoel Kahn, revered expositor of many of the Torah teachings of the Rebbe—Rabbi Menachem M. Schneersohn, of righteous memory. Despite his advanced age, Rabbi Kahn continues to maintain a rigorous schedule of teaching both at the central Chabad yeshivah in Brooklyn, N.Y., as well as abroad.
Perhaps one of the largest 19 Kislev celebrations in the world will take place in Binyanei Hauma, Jerusalem’s International Convention Center—a three-day affair that has grown to include giant Chassidic book fairs, farbrengens, classes and more.
Through the event marathon, the conference center—the largest in the Middle East—will be a bevy of activities as people shuttle between special events for high-schoolers, men and women; for panel discussions, concerts and even a special session with Chassidic artist Baruch Nahshon of Hebron.
Yet behind all the hustle and bustle, the message will be the same as those for farbrengens all over the world: celebrating the spiritual Torah enlightenment and joyful lifestyle that was ushered in by the introduction of chassidus.
And this year, the message is all the more poignant since it is a Hakhel year, when, in ancient times, Jewish men, women and children would gather in the Temple in Jerusalem to hear the reading of the Torah by the king of Israel once every seven years, following the sabbatical year known as Shemittah.
Even though there is no longer a Temple, the Rebbe encouraged all Jews to join together to increase their Torah observance and study, and to follow G‑d’s commandments—as will certainly be manifested in the 19 Kislev gatherings around the world.
For information about a 19 Kislev gathering near you, find and contact your local Chabad-Lubavitch center here.
To participate in Hakhel events around the world throughout the year, visit our Hakhel page here.
Events will be taking place in many languages around the world. Here an invitation in Georgian.© Copyright 2015, all rights reserved.
Chabad.org Magazine - Editor: Yanki Tauber
The Miracle of Chanukah
Watch these kids re-enact the story of Chanukah in 5 minutes! (Performed by students at the Orlando Jewish Day School and the Chai Preschool)
Watch (5:28)<script language="javascript" type="text/javascript" src="http://embed.chabad.org/multimedia/mediaplayer/embedded/embed.js.asp?aid=2806517&width=auto&height=auto"></script><span style="clear:both;" class="lb" id="lbdiv">Visit <a href="http://www.chabad.org/multimedia/default_cdo/aid/591213/jewish/Video.htm">Jewish.TV</a> for more <a href="http://www.chabad.org/multimedia/default_cdo/aid/591213/jewish/Video.htm">Jewish videos</a>.</span>Chanukah Essay
Stop the Dreidel! By Naftali Silberberg
Illustration by Sefira Ross.
What color is the bar of soap sitting on your bathroom counter? What is the pattern on your socks? Floral? Plaid? Solid?
To many people, these questions are irrelevant. They purchase their preferred brand of soap (or the cheapest one on the store's shelf) regardless of its color. And in the morning they don the first pair of socks they fish out of the drawer.
But to others, those with an eye for design, the choice isn't so simple. Their lavatory has a motif, and every item displayed there has to match the unique décor. And socks aren't just to keep feet warm, or shoes sweat-free; they complete the thematic ensemble, complementing the wardrobe du jour. No part stands on its own; every component is just one piece of a large picture.
How does the dreidelembody the Chanukah message?Every Jewish holiday is comprised of many components: its history, laws, customs, traditional foods, etc. Each component was put in place by the Master Designer, or individuals whom He inspired, in accordance with the particular holiday's singular message. Some of the components are obvious expressions of the holiday's motif, while others require thought to uncover their profound relation to the holiday's unique message.
So, where does that leave the traditional dreidel game? How does the dreidel embody the Chanukah message?
(For those readers unfamiliar with this delightful Chanukah pastime, check out this short Dreidel Wizard.)
What's striking about the dreidel is that its "religious" aspect isn't always apparent. In other words, the four Hebrew letters that form the acronym for the phrase "A great miracle happened there," are not discernable while it's spinning. At that point it looks entirely letter-less, no different than any other spinning top available at your local dollar store.
Life is eerily reminiscent of a dreidel game. In the course of our dizzyingly hectic day-to-day existence we are often too preoccupied to notice the "letters"; the small and big miracles that accompany us every day.
Every once in a while we have to give the spinning dreidel a break and reflect on its message: "a big miracle transpired there."
And that's precisely what Chanukah is all about. Some 2,100 years ago our nation's collective dreidel came to an abrupt halt, and the divine letters that animate and direct all of creation came into plain view. For eight days, the glow of the Temple's menorah illuminated a reality that the Greeks had attempted to obscure: there is a hand that controls every event and occurrence.
Two millennia later, the message of Chanukah remains the same. As we sit by the menorah, or even while we indulge in the game that is our national Chanukah pastime, it is time for us to find the miracle letters in our own lives.
One more point:
When the letters come into focus it is time to react, there's little time to sit with your mouth openWhen the dreidel comes to a rest, there isn't too much time to ponder; the game has got to continue. You have to give or take, depending on the letter the dreidel is now displaying. Only if you are (un)lucky enough to have landed a nun do you get to meditate a bit longer... When the letters come into focus it is time to react, there's little time to sit with your mouth open.
Give: G‑d gave you miracles, it's time now to contribute back to the cause. Now it's your turn to make a miracle in someone else's life
Take: Take upon yourself to introduce an added dose of spirituality in your life -- a Torah class or an additional mitzvah.
Or, you can think a bit longer. But not too long. The Maccabees didn't accomplish their feat through prolonged meditation sessions...
Rabbi Naftali Silberberg is a writer, editor and director of the curriculum department at the Rohr Jewish Learning Institute. Rabbi Silberberg resides in Brooklyn, New York, with his wife, Chaya Mushka, and their three children.© Copyright 2015, all rights reserved.
Lifestyle
How to Decorate Doughnuts Like a Pro By Miriam Szokovski
Of course you need a good, fluffy dough, but let's face it—a huge part of doughnuts is the decorating.
There's good old powdered sugar, but there are also all kinds of glazes, sprinkles and other toppings.
There are two main ways to glaze doughnuts: dipping and pouring.
Dip each doughnut into your preferred glaze. Then dip into the sprinkles or other topping of your choice.
Spoon or drizzle the glaze over the doughnut. Allow the excess glaze to drip down the sides. Add the sprinkles of your choice. Leave the doughnut in one place until the glaze sets, then pick it up and leave the mess behind.
Some other things to keep in mind:
To make colorful glazes, make a basic white glaze (recipe below), then divide into multiple small bowls and add a few drops of food coloring to each.
Sprinkles come in mixed containers, but you can also buy separate ones. Separate ones give you more control over your color combinations and means you can leave out colors that might not complement your frosting color (for the slightly obsessive among us!).
Aside from colorful, chocolate and non-pareil sprinkles, you can use colored sugar, pearls or chopped candy (like chocolate lentils, or hard candies such as butterscotch or peppermint). Use your imagination—the possibilities are tremendous!
Decorating doughnuts can be a fun chanukah party activity for kids and also adults. Prepare assorted glazes and toppings and let your family and friends knock themselves out.
Ice cube trays or cupcake pans are a good way to sort your toppings. Put one in the middle of the table (or several if you have a long table with many people) and people can decorate to taste.
Here are some of my favorite glaze recipes:
Classic White Glaze Ingredients:
1 cup confectioners sugar
1 tsp. vanilla extract
2 tbsp. milk (dairy or non-dairy) or hot water water
Sift confectioner’s sugar into a bowl. Add the vanilla and the milk or hot water 1 tablespoon at a time, mixing with a spoon in one direction until frosting is smooth.
Optional: Divide the glaze into separate bowls and add a couple of drops of food coloring to each in the colors of the your choice.
Lemon Glaze
1 cup confectioners sugar
2 tbsp. hot water
a generous squeeze of fresh lemon
Sift the confectioner’s sugar into a bowl. Add the hot water 1 tablespoon at a time, mixing with a spoon in one direction until frosting is smooth. Add a squeeze of fresh lemon juice.
Chocolate Glaze
1¼ cups confectioner’s sugar
½ cup cocoa
¼ tsp. salt
3-4 tbsp. hot water
Sift cocoa powder and confectioner’s sugar into a bowl. Add salt. Whisk with a fork to combine. Add the hot water 1 tablespoon at a time, mixing with a spoon in one direction until frosting is smooth.
Cinnamon Sugar Coating
½ cup sugar
1-2 tbsp. cinnamon
Fry doughnuts and remove from oil. Dip doughnuts in the cinnamon-sugar mixture immediately, to coat. NOTE: If you're using baked doughnuts, first dip the doughnuts in melted butter, then in the cinnamon-sugar.
Need a good dough recipe? Try this one.
What's your favorite type of doughnut?
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.
Jewish News
When a Little Boy in Hawaii Chose Between Soccer and Kippah
By Menachem Posner
Yossi Weinbaum, left, and his soccer team in Hawaii. The 9-year-old left a game this season when a referee asked him to remove his kipah (after he was required to tuck in his tzitzit).
Yudi Weinbaum is passionate about many things—chief among them, Judaism, with soccer trailing behind as a close second.
So he really took it to heart when his normally cheerful son, Yossi, came home from a recent soccer match almost in tears.
“I don’t know what happened,” said the 9-year-old, who is home-schooled and takes classes at Chabad of Hawaii in Honolulu. “Before we began playing, the referee saw my tzitzit hanging out of my shirt and told me I couldn’t play unless I took them off or cut off the strings.”
The referee claimed that the tzitzit somehow broke the ban on wearing extra sporting equipment to the game.
Unsure of how to proceed, Yossi—who had been playing soccer since he was 6 and had never encountered a problem like this before—took the advice of his coach to tuck in his tzitzit and get back on the field, joining his teammates on “Hawaii 808.” Within minutes, he scored a goal, and things appeared to be back to normal.
It took until the second half before the referee noticed his kipah and ordered him to remove it or leave the game. So Yossi walked off the field, knowing that was non-negotiable.
“This was something that had never happened before,” says coach Tye Yamada, who had been coaching children’s soccer for five years. “Yossi is one of our most reliable offensive players, and we’ve never had any issues. Boys should not have to sit out of games for reasons of religion.”
Yossi Weinbaum, left
Weinbaum comforted his son, assuring him that he had done the right thing. It was the day before Sukkot, so after the holiday ended, he and his wife, Estee, set about to address the issue.
“We suspected that this was either the result of ignorance or anti-Semitism, and we wanted to clear the air as fast as we could,” says Weinbaum, a London native who runs Hawaii’s only kosher-catering business, Oahu Kosher. “I immediately wrote an email to the coach asking him to look into it.”
In the past, they say, Yamada and his co-coach, Michael Lancet, had always been supportive of Yossi missing practice and games, for example, when it coincided with the Sabbath or Jewish holidays.
‘A Great Unifier’
Within days, the family was gratified to learn that the incident was the result of unawareness on the part of the individual referee, and they were assured that it would not happen again.
“Please let your son know that we wholeheartedly support him, in his religious convictions and his wearing of religious attire at soccer games,” wrote Phil Neddo, Oahu League President. “Furthermore, we have asked the State Referee Committee about measures by which referees can be made more aware of the allowances of non-dangerous religious attire, more alert to situations where a player might fall under that rule, and as sensitive as possible to the diverse backgrounds and religions of all participants.”
After receiving an equally sincere letter from the offending referee, who said he honestly did not know what tzitzit were, the Weinbaums say they felt confident enough to send Yossi back onto the field.
“Soccer is a great unifier, bringing together people from different cultures and backgrounds,” says Weinbaum, himself a long-time fan of the Liverpool F.C. (Football Club). “It was so refreshing that this unpleasant incident served to open more doors and educate others about the Jewish people, and our unique faith and traditions.”
As for Yamada, he adds that he’s grateful that Yossi is again with the team, dribbling and dragging the ball towards the goal: “He is one of our strongest, most fearless players, and it’s good to have him back.”© Copyright 2015, all rights reserved.
Jewish News
A Whirlwind Trip of a Lifetime at Wedding of Grieving Couple
By Sarah Leah Lawent
Chana Devora Solomon, right, co-director of Chabad at Short Hills in New Jersey, says she felt like she was a part of Jewish history at the wedding of Sarah Techiya Litman and Ariel Biegel.
JERUSALEM—It was the trip of a lifetime for the visitors who flew into Israel at practically the last minute—some of them student raffle winners, some of them representatives of their communities back home, and all of them wanting to show their support for Jewish victims of terror, and fulfill the mitzvah of bringing joy to a young bride who lost her father and brother a week before her wedding.
“We all were so motivated and grateful to be part of this group,” said Maia Sirkin, 19, a neuroscience major from Binghamton University in Upstate New York. “We all wanted to celebrate this wedding—to be part of something that would show that we cannot be defeated by terrorism, that our answer is in our Jewish unity, our faith in G‑d and our love for each other.”
Chana Devora Solomon, co-director of Chabad at Short Hills in New Jersey, says she felt like she was being a part of Jewish history. “It was such a zchus, a privilege, to be able to go,” she said. “And I wasn’t alone. I felt like I represented each and every Jew in my community, each and every Jew in America. Before I left, the doorbell never stopped ringing as people brought over envelopes and letters, including from local schoolchildren, for me to hand to the family, knowing that they would be counted as having been there.”
Rabbi Yaakov Litman, his wife and their two sons were attacked by terrorists on Nov. 13 in the Hebron Hills while making their way to spend a Shabbat in honor of their daughter, Sarah Techiya, and her groom-to-be, Ariel Biegel. The 40-year-old rabbi and his 18-year-old son Netanel were slain; his wife and other son were wounded.
The couple changed their Nov. 17 wedding plans, moving it forward a week to Nov. 26, and unexpectedly issued a wedding invitation to Jewish people around the world in a plea to turn tragedy into joy in memory of their loved ones. To accommodate what they hoped would be hordes of celebrants, the ceremony was to be held at one of the largest venues in Jerusalem—Binyanei Hauma, the International Convention Center.
‘Such a Cohesive Group’
And respond they did. An immediate outpouring of support came from around the world as Jews far and wide hurried to make plans to be there for the bride and groom.
Student representatives of Chabad on Campus with the bride.
The six students who comprised the student delegation came from the University of Ottawa in Ontario, Canada; Rockland County Community College in Suffern, N.Y.; Albert Einstein College of Medicine in New York City; Binghamton University in Upstate New York; and Queens College, City University of New York. The student group was led by Rabbi Dov Oliver, director of the Center of Jewish Life at Rockland Community College, and by Rabbi Yossi Witkes, a representative of Chabad of Campus International.
Organizers pointed out how the wedding was a striking example of Jewish unity in this Hakhel year, when Jews gather together in groups to learn Torah, and to perform acts of goodness and kindness together.
“It was such a cohesive group,” said Sirkind. “As each of us boarded the flight, you could sense the fierce love of Israel and fellow Jews that bonded us together. And the things students brought to us from our schools to personally give to the couple—gifts, letters—such a show of love, caring and unity. I believe we each felt that it was a privilege to be part of this.”
The visitors recalled the vast and varied emotions at the wedding ceremony. “The bride was so beautiful and so very sweet,” recalled Sirkind. “Rabbi Oliver presented the gift from the Chabad on Campus students back home, and explained who we were and from where we had come, and you could just see on her face how deeply she was touched.”
Sirkin added that they were allowed to be present during the solemn but joyous bedeken (veiling) ritual, “which was even more moving because she did not have her father there.”
“At the chuppah itself, there was a sadness to all the joy when they spoke about Sarah’s murdered father and brother. Both the bride and groom were so emotional, yet you could feel their immovable, unrelenting strength at the same time. And I kept thinking to myself, ‘This is crazy—that a random raffle would result in us being here, all passionate about Israel, the Jewish people, now singing, dancing and taking part in this momentous occasion.’ ”
Rabbi Dov Oliver, director of the Center of Jewish Life at Rockland Community College in Suffern, N.Y., presents the bride with gifts and letters on behalf of students and emissaries of Chabad on Campus.
For Asher Fishman, 21, a business major at Rockland Community College, it was a bit of a homecoming.
He had spent the past three years in Israel, first studying in a yeshivah in Beit Shemesh, then then volunteering for the Israel Defense Forces and serving in the Golani Brigade. Following his military service, he returned to New York to study and spend time with his family before making aliyah. He even traveled to Sharon, Mass., to attend the funeral of Ezra Schwartz, an 18-year-old yeshivah student also recently killed by terrorists.
“When the groom called out, right before breaking the glass under his foot, “If I forget Thee, O Jerusalem ... when he called that out with such emotion in his voice, it was impossible not to weep, as well as rejoice, with him,” recalled Fishman.
Other Mitzvahs While in Israel
Although the wedding was the focal point of the group’s traveling to Israel, that was by no means the only mitzvah the students accomplished.
While there, accompanied by representatives of Chabad Terror Victims Project (CTVP) they paid shiva visits to two other families mourning the loss of loved ones at the hands of terrorists: Ziv Mizrahi of Giv’at Ze’ev, who was stabbed to death on Nov. 23 at a gas station on the road to Jerusalem; and Hadar Buchris, 21, of Tzfat, who was murdered Nov. 22 in a stabbing attack near Gush Etzion while waiting for a ride.
Fishman and Sirkind expressed how the entire group was moved by the warm reception they received by the grieving families, and how touched the families were at the show of love from Jews from across the globe who came expressly to offer their condolences.
Adam Algrissy from Camden County, N.J., represented his community.
“Mrs. Mizrahi was, of course, in rough shape, but as she looked at us, and we explained who we were and where we were from, there was an overwhelming emotion that shone in her eyes. It was moving beyond words,” described Sirkind.
Oliver and Fishman related how the group also paid visits to terror victims at Shaare Zedek Hospital, where they were joined by Eli Muchnik, a rabbinical student who entertained the injured and their families. “When we got there, we were, of course, quite lost. So we wound up at the elevator and when the doors opened, lo and behold, out walks a man whom we had seen at the Mizrahi shiva.
“He asked us what we were doing there. So we told him, and he directed us. But when we asked him why he was at the hospital, he told us he was visiting his mother, who was very ill. So we went to cheer her up, and wish her a speedy and complete recovery. She was really quite taken by the whole thing. And her son? ‘Ah, Chabad,’ he said. ‘You are always there when needed, no matter what.’ ”
The group was also quite moved by their visit to a Druze soldier who had been injured in a terror attack.
As Oliver put it: “It was incredible. The mother of this soldier, she turned to us and said, “My mother taught me, and I have taught my children, that we must always stay very close to the Jews. They are a very special people, and G‑d put them on Earth for a very special reason. I respect the Jewish people because they do not judge by what you look like, but rather by who you really are.”
After the whirlwind trip—the flight, the wedding, Shabbat, the shiva calls and the hospital visits, the group is now heading back home. They all said it had been one of the most important and emotional experiences in their lives.
Students joined the Chabad Terror Victims Project for a visit to two families whose children were recently killed in terror attacks.
“To me, this wedding wasn’t only a wedding; it was a statement and an action,” said Solomon. “We had been hearing about terror attack after terror attack, and this girl, who had just undergone perhaps the worst thing a person could imagine—the worst tragedy and horror—her response was to make a stance, to invite every single Jew to celebrate at her wedding, to fight a wave of terror with a tsunami of joy. She called out to me, ‘Let’s stand and fight together; we’ll dance and sing together.’
“And when she stood under her chuppah and saw the thousands who had come to celebrate with her and to be with each other, it was a victory—her wish was realized.
“I was ushered in to the wedding a short while before the doors opened to the general public and was brought to the bride’s mother," continued Solomon. “I could see all the sorrow and joy she had already gone through, and with the wedding taking place, I could see she still had an untapped well of emotion. As she looked at me, I could see the sadness, the joy and the sisterhood in her eyes. And then we danced.”
Visiting families at a second house of mourning.
Students joined Colel Chabad's Pantry Packers, making up food packages for the hungry.© Copyright 2015, all rights reserved.
Jewish News
In the Frigid Calm After the Storm, Spokane Rabbi Sets an Example
By Faygie Levy Holt
Rabbi Yisroel Hahn, co-director of Chabad of Spokane County in Washington, delivered cups of hot coffee to workers and families affected by a recent storm that knocked down trees and power lines for miles, leaving many residents in the cold and dark for days.
Rabbi Yisroel Hahn, co-director of Chabad of Spokane County in Washington, went to a local Starbucks this past Thursday and proceeded to order coffee. Not just a cup of coffee, but entire carafes of it. He was planning to take the hot beverages to workers still repairing downed power lines in his neighborhood after a storm whipped through town more than a week ago.
But everywhere he went, utility workers already had some, often with a sandwich in the other hand. It was a far cry from a day or two beforehand, when the local KHQ TV station accompanied the rabbi as he delivered hot coffee to utility-company employees who were working around the clock.
Reporter Liz Burch was so impressed that she ended her report noting that a good deed is called a “mitzvah” in Hebrew, saying: “Tonight, Rabbi Hahn’s challenge, regardless of your faith, is to go out and do something good for people who have been affected by this devastating storm.”
“It really had the desired effect,” noted Hahn. “It said to other people: ‘Don’t just sit in your home during a crisis. Go outside and see what you can do to help.”
It was a powerful turn of events more than a week after a crippling windstorm toppled 100-foot-tall pine trees and power lines throughout the city of Spokane. The wind began howling on Tuesday, Nov. 17, and within hours, life came to a standstill as officials ordered residents to “shelter in place” because it was too dangerous to go outside.
“The trees started shaking, and my wife [co-director Chaya Sara Hahn] said the toys in the yard were flying everywhere. Then the trees just started falling down,” recalled the rabbi. “We had a 100-foot tree that snapped like a twig and came crashing down. It just nipped my neighbor’s house; he was lucky. The neighbor behind me had tree fall onto another neighbor’s car. Everywhere you went, there was destruction and havoc. It was like a war zone; I’ve never seen anything like it.”
Utility employees worked around the clock trying to restore power to about 150,000 customers in the wake of the storm.
Days in the Cold and Dark
Then the power went out. As temperatures plummeted and night fell, the Hahn family—like more than 150,000 of their neighbors throughout the city—bundled up and did the best they could to stay warm.
The next day, still without electricity or heat, the Hahns organized a barbecue for those who needed something warm to eat. Despite the darkness, about 25 people came to their home for hot dogs. Thanks to a small generator, some even managed to recharge their cell phones.
As the weather turned colder—and with five children under 10, including a baby—the Hahns accepted an invitation for the family to spend Shabbat in Tacoma with fellow Chabad emissaries Rabbi Shneur Zalman and Miriam Heber of Chabad of Pierce County. Afterwards, said Rabbi Hahn, “I felt I needed to go help others and see what I could do.”
When he returned home, the power was still off in his house, but some families he knew had electricity and heat. He asked if they would make some hot soup. They readily agreed and began cooking.
Meanwhile, he drove to a local Starbucks and bought a couple dozen cups of coffee. He went door to door offering the hot drinks to people in his neighborhood, many of whom he didn’t know. They were both surprised and heartened to see him, he reported.
“People were spending days in the dark and cold, and I wanted them to know that someone cared and was thinking about them,” said Hahn. “They had [packaged] food, but they needed something warm.”
People were so appreciative, saying they would continue the mitzvah.
Next, a call went out for volunteers to help deliver the soup. With flashlights leading the way, four groups of volunteers made their way into the night with containers of piping-hot soup. “We went in the pitch, pitch dark, knocking on people’s doors with the soup,” he described. “They were so touched that someone remembered them, that someone cared enough to deliver something warm—something to warm your hands, your face, your insides. It’s just the perfect thing.”
As the days dragged on, the rabbi continued to help his neighbors, but saw that no one was doing anything for the utility crews, who were working 12-, 14-, even 16-hour shifts to restore power to the masses.
So he went back to Starbucks, ordering coffees and making deliveries in person, going from work crew to work crew, and snapping happy pictures along the way.
“Through the coffee, a little warmth is offered today,” attested Burch during her on-air TV piece.
Throughout the week, Rabbi Hahn kept recalling a story that was told of the Lubavitcher Rebbe—Rabbi Menachem M. Schneerson, of righteous memory—who as a small boy in Russia would give sweets to the even younger children to calm them down while they were in hiding during a rash of pogroms.
“The Rebbe was obsessed with kindness and taught us to do the same,” said Hahn.
The rabbi brought hot coffee to the workers, who voiced their appreciation.
In all, the Hahns were without power for eight days—the same number of days celebrated during the holiday of Chanukah, which begins on Sunday evening, Dec. 6.
The rabbi believes that the timing holds special significance. To that end, on Sunday, he is planning to go with a group of volunteers to gather fallen pine trees and use them to create a menorah that will be displayed in the city center.
“We are going to use pine trees that took away our warmth and electricity to use as tools of doing just that—providing warmth and light to the people ofSpokane,” he said.
Reflecting back on the last two weeks, Rabbi Hahn related: “What I’ve learned through this is that the hardest and most depressing part was not the cold and darkness, but not being able to be productive. I realized what motivated me was the thought: What else can I do? It’s dark and cold; I can’t see or read or use the Internet. The only thing I could do—and the only thing that would make me feel productive—was to go out and see how I can help other people. And that’s what I did.”
To help others in the aftermath of the Washington storm, visit the Chabad donations page here.
The storm hit on Nov. 17, followed by plummeting temperatures the workers had to contend with.
Huge pine trees were toppled by the winds, crushing cars in their wake. The rabbi plans to use some of the wood to created a menorah this Chanukah in the city center.
The trees, as tall as 100 feet, fell randomly, causing serious damage to vehicles and power lines.
The rabbi reported that everywhere he went, “there was destruction and havoc.”
The rabbi also orchestrated a local effort to get hot soup to residents without heat or electricity. A core of Jewish volunteers cooked the soup and delivered at nighjt, in what they described as “pitch black.”
Hahn wanted people to know that others cared and tried to do something to bring them a little warmth.
The coffee brought instant reactions from recipients, grateful for the cup and the company.
Passing along a kindness and relishing the reaction.© Copyright 2015, all rights reserved.
Jewish News
Worldwide Events to Mark ‘the New Year of Chassidism’ in This Hakhel Year
By Menachem Posner
Rabbi Yoel Kahn will again be a featured speaker at the 19 Kislev event that packs the International Convention Center in Jerusalem every year. (File Photo: Meir Alfassi)
With less than a week to go before Chanukah, 400 members of the Jewish community in Tbilisi, Georgia, will soon be gathering over some hot drinks and refreshments.
Like Jewish people around the globe, they will observe two days of commemoration and celebration of the 19th and 20th of the Hebrew month of Kislev—corresponding this year to Tuesday, Dec. 1, and Wednesday, Dec. 2—known as “the New Year of Chassidism.”
The 19th of Kislev (Yud Tes Kislev) marks the day in 1798 that a Czarist commission acquitted and freed from imprisonment the first Chabad Rebbe—Rabbi Schneur Zalman of Liadi, known as the “Alter Rebbe”—on charges that included subverting the government in St. Petersburg and aiding the Ottoman Empire. It is also the anniversary of passing of his mentor, Rabbi Dov Ber of Mezerich in 1772.
The acquittal is regarded in Chassidic circles as signaling a heavenly decree that the rabbi’s teachings should be publicly disseminated. As a result, the annual daily study cycle of the Tanya—Rabbi Schneur Zalman’s seminal work of Chassidic thought—will begin anew on that day as well.
“This is a celebration that has a uniquely Chabad aspect to it,” says Rabbi Meir Kozlovskly, who has headed Chabad in the former Soviet nation since 2003. “It draws people from across the community—from people who have been attending since our first massive 19 Kislev event five years ago to people who are stepping foot in a Jewish event for the first time.”
The first part of the celebration, which will be housed in a convention center, will feature a Jewish bazaar where people can sip warm drinks and mingle among booths representing the local Chabad day school, kindergarten, camp and other institutions.
Jewish.tv will be streaming a farbrengen on Tuesday night from Chicago with Rabbi Yitzchok Schochet of London.
The rabbi expects to see particular interest around a Judaica booth featuring art and religious supplies specially imported from Israel. (Since the country has no Judaica shops, there is a high demand for such items.) Another unique booth will feature Chabad Rabbi Ben Zion Israelashvili, who is also a trained scribe. Attendees will have the opportunity to purchase a letter in a Torah scroll he is currently writing for the community and then actually watch him inscribe their letter.
The second part of the program will feature a festive farbrengen (informal Chassidic gathering).Over laden tables, the crowd will hear from Rabbi Yosef Mirilashvili, a leading rabbi in the Georgian-Jewish community in Israel. Among other topics, his talk will focus on the unique contributions that the Chassidic movement has brought to the Jewish world—a theme that will echo at concurrent celebrations all over.
Although the language will be different, much of the music and sentiments will be similar to those shared in the U.S. Pacific Northwest by Rabbi Nissan Kornfeld, co-director of Chabad Mercer Island in Washington, who will be the guest speaker at the annual 19 Kislev farbrengen in Vancouver, Canada, on Sunday night.
According to Rabbi Schneur Wineberg of Chabad-Lubavitch of British Columbia, the annual celebrations generally draw approximately 100 local residents, who have come to relish the inspiration and learning that’s part and parcel of the day’s observance.
While most communities gather in synagogues or halls for 19 Kislev celebrations, the Jews of Kharkov, Ukraine, have the custom to travel to Haditch, the burial place of the Alter Rebbe, every year on this day. The group is led by Rabbi Levi Raices, rosh yeshivah of the city’s yeshivah high school, which makes the trek along with the wider community.
Chana Weisberg will be a featured speaker at a 19 Kislev event for women in Brooklyn.
In Brooklyn, N.Y., giant celebrations will be held in a number of neighborhoods, including one in Crown Heights just for women organized by the Lubavitch Women’s Organization. Among those slated to speak for the expected crowd of 500-plus are Nechama Shaki, and noted author and TheJewishWoman.org editor Chana Weisberg. Shaki will share how the Rebbe’s words to her husband, former member of Knesset Avner Shaki (NRP) have had a long-lasting impact. Weisberg’s talk will focus on the Alter Rebbe’s path to self-discovery.
Just across the Hudson River, students at Yeshivah University are preparing for a sale of Chassidic books that will be followed by a farbrengen with YU mashpia (mentor), Rabbi Moshe Weinberger; and Chabad scholar and teacher, Rabbi Shlomo Yaffe.
Three Days of Activity in Jerusalem
Perhaps one of the largest 19 Kislev celebrations in the world will take place in Binyanei Hauma, Jerusalem’s International Convention Center—a three-day affair that has grown to include giant Chassidic book fairs, farbrengens, classes and more. Tens of thousands are expected to participate in a series of events that will feature big-ticket speakers such as Rabbi Yehoshua Shapira, Rabbi Shabtai Slavaticki, Dr. Yechiel Harari, Rebbetzin Yemima Mizrachi and others.
Rousing Chassidic melodies will be led by Avraham Fried, Yonatan Razel and Eviatar Banai, and the Malchus Choir.
At the central event, the main speaker will be Rabbi Yoel Kahn, revered expositor of many of the Torah teachings of the Rebbe—Rabbi Menachem M. Schneersohn, of righteous memory. Despite his advanced age, Rabbi Kahn continues to maintain a rigorous schedule of teaching both at the central Chabad yeshivah in Brooklyn, N.Y., as well as abroad.
Perhaps one of the largest 19 Kislev celebrations in the world will take place in Binyanei Hauma, Jerusalem’s International Convention Center—a three-day affair that has grown to include giant Chassidic book fairs, farbrengens, classes and more.
Through the event marathon, the conference center—the largest in the Middle East—will be a bevy of activities as people shuttle between special events for high-schoolers, men and women; for panel discussions, concerts and even a special session with Chassidic artist Baruch Nahshon of Hebron.
Yet behind all the hustle and bustle, the message will be the same as those for farbrengens all over the world: celebrating the spiritual Torah enlightenment and joyful lifestyle that was ushered in by the introduction of chassidus.
And this year, the message is all the more poignant since it is a Hakhel year, when, in ancient times, Jewish men, women and children would gather in the Temple in Jerusalem to hear the reading of the Torah by the king of Israel once every seven years, following the sabbatical year known as Shemittah.
Even though there is no longer a Temple, the Rebbe encouraged all Jews to join together to increase their Torah observance and study, and to follow G‑d’s commandments—as will certainly be manifested in the 19 Kislev gatherings around the world.
For information about a 19 Kislev gathering near you, find and contact your local Chabad-Lubavitch center here.
To participate in Hakhel events around the world throughout the year, visit our Hakhel page here.
Events will be taking place in many languages around the world. Here an invitation in Georgian.© Copyright 2015, all rights reserved.
Chabad.org Magazine - Editor: Yanki Tauber
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