Chabad Magazine "Does Jewish Law Allow a Nurse to Treat an Ebola Patient?" for Tuesday, Cheshvan 4, 5775 · October 28, 2014

Editor's Note:

Dear Friend,
Look outside tonight and you’ll see a small sliver of a moon. We’ve just begun a new Jewish month: Marcheshvan, often called Cheshvan.
Notice how the first syllable of the word was lobbed off in common parlance? This is because the Hebrew word “mar” means “bitter” and we don’t want to call a month bitter—even one woefully bereft of holidays like this one.
“Mar” also means “droplet,” alluding to the many raindrops we expect to fall this much-needed rainy season in Israel.
Taken together, these two meanings offer a wondrous lesson. Even when things turn bitter, remember that your troubles are like a drop of rain, soon to run off and nourishing at the core.
Here’s to a month that is all nourishment and no bitterness (oh, and not too much rain when I have a long walk to synagogue on Shabbat)!
Menachem Psner
on behalf of the Chabad.org Editorial Team
Daily Thought:
Pressurized Escape
Your soul, before she came here below, stepped higher and higher each day. So why did she descend below? What did she gain by coming here?
Because your soul is a divine being of unbounded potential. When you have the power of the infinite, stepping higher each day is standing still. It is a prison of “being that.”
Unchallenged, the soul knows no better. She must descend below, and here, within the ultimate confines, she will learn to leap, to break out of all boundaries, to escape the prison of being. To be “not that.”

(Torat Menachem 5744, vol. 2, pp. 725, 1031.)

This Week's Features:

Happiness is Not Being There

Eve, Noah, Sarah and the Key to Letting Go

By Tzvi Freeman

Eve came to the world. She became wrapped up with a snake.

Noah came to the world. What happened to him? "He drank from the wine and was drunk."

Sarah came to the world. She descended and she came back up, as it is said, "And Abram came up from Egypt, he and his wife with him."

For this, Sarah earned transcendental life . . . that life belonged to her.—Zohar 1:122b

It’s a passage from the Zohar, and—as to be expected from the Zohar—very enigmatic. What is the sequence? What does the story of Eve and the snake have to do with Noah and his wine? What does either story have to do with Sarah and her descent to Egypt?

The solution to the puzzle, in short, is that the Zohar is telling us a history of happiness. There are three approaches to happiness in the human repertoire. Two fail. One succeeds.

A Brief History of Happiness

Eve came to the world, initially standing a step beyond it. Physical pleasure and pain were nothing more than external stimuli, providing information about what needed to be done, and what should be avoided. But Eve came to believe that happiness could be found only by experiencing the garden from within, as in I am experiencing this pleasure. That is the primordial snake—that sense of I am here. And that is the voice of the snake: “Am I happy yet?” That is where all confusion begins.

“Am I happy yet?” That is the voice of the primordial snake.

Once experience became wrapped up with ego, then pleasure became wrapped up with pain, good with evil, beauty with ugliness, and all of life became as we know it today: a world where no deed is innocent and simple, no motive pure and untainted. Eve—and all of us—fell from her transcendent state down a rabbit hole into a maelstrom of chaos.

Then came Noah. He stepped off his ark after the flood and saw a new world. He saw the opportunity to start again, to abandon Eve’s error and to rebuild with a new strategy for happiness. The solution seemed straightforward and obvious: He drank wine, forgot himself, and was happy.

Problem is, once the ego has appeared, it cannot be forgotten. That is how memory works—as an arrow let loose, never to be reversed without being countered head-on. As for Noah, all he accomplished was to introduce confusion back into a freshly-laundered world.

Then came Sarah. She encountered the snake head-on, face-to-face, on its own territory, in the darkness of its own chamber, held tightly within its iron clutch.

The primordial snake this time around was Pharaoh, a mortal being wholly obsessed with ego and power. As did the snake, he offered Sarah the opportunity to share in that power. But Sarah remained bound up with Abraham and with the One G‑d. Even as she was in Pharaoh’s palace, she transcended it, ruled over it, and ruled over Pharaoh as well.

And so, Sarah achieved eternal life. Because she healed the wound that Eve had inflicted upon the human soul.

Sarah eventually had a child. She named him Yitzchak (Isaac), which means, "he will laugh." Her life was filled with joy, and her child was a child of joy. We are the children of that child.

No Expectations

We all want to be happy. Sometimes we think happiness will come from getting what we want, enjoying it, and then getting more and more things we want. Further entanglement in the same old snake.

Sometimes we think happiness will come from forgetting ourselves, whether with alcohol, or drugs, or entertainment, or any other form of escape. Blame Noah for that one.

Well, the research data is all in, and it turns out that neither of these strategies ever made anybody any happier.

Those with no expectations carry an inner joy in all they do.

What does make us happier? We all know the answer, and it seems such an easy formula: Joy bursts in where there is no ego to obstruct it. Those who feel they deserve everything can never be satisfied. Those with no expectations, who feel they deserve nothing, that every breath is a gift—they carry an inner joy in all they do.

Yet it is so difficult. An ego, after all, is not something you can shed on a whim, like a sweater or a cap. It is much harder to deal with than some trait you can eventually change—like fear or anger. It is you—your sense that you exist.

But we are the children of Sarah. She forged the path for us, and now we need only follow in her footsteps. The ego cannot be ignored, or swept under the carpet in drunkenness. But it can be presented with a higher context, one in which our entire sense of being takes on a whole new meaning.

Find a higher purpose in all you do, an eternal purpose, the purpose for which your soul came to this world. Bond yourself with that purpose and with the One who created you with this purpose. That is all you truly are.

The ego becomes irrelevant, a mere nuisance. With purpose comes inner joy. With purpose, your life belongs to you. And it is eternal life, as your purpose is eternal.

Maamar Chayei Sarah 5712, 5720, 5741.

Editor's Note: The Jewish Learning Institute six-session course, How Happiness Thinks begins this November. Find a location near you at MyJLI.com.

PARSHAH

Are the Jews Humanity’s Moral Compass?

Unbelievably, Hitler understood, too, that every Jewish soul inherently has such an ethical spirit.

By Chana Weisberg

Dear readers,

Who has said that the Jewish people are the moral conscience of the world?

No, it’s not a great Jewish prophet, or a righteous non-Jew who admired the Jewish people. These words are ascribed to none other than Adolf Hitler, may his name be erased.

In Hitler’s words, “Conscience is a Jewish invention; it is a blemish like circumcision.”

He also said: “If one little Jewish boy survives without any Jewish education, with no synagogue and no Hebrew school, it [Judaism] is in his soul. Even if there had never been a synagogue or a Jewish school or an Old Testament, the Jewish spirit would still exist and exert its influence. It has been there from the beginning, and there is no Jew, not a single one, who does not personify it.” (Hitler’s Apocalypse)

To Hitler, having a moral conscience was repugnant and despicable; scruples could deprive an individual from realizing his self-gratifying goals. Unbelievably, Hitler understood, too, that every Jewish soul inherently has such an ethical spirit.

In this week’s Torah portion we are introduced to the first Jew and the forefather of our people, Abraham. Abraham is called Ivri, a Hebrew, and the name has stuck for his descendants. On a simple level, he was called Ivri because geographically he came from ever hanahar, the “other side of the river.” On a deeper level, he stood on the “other side” of the world in his principles and moral standing. In a dark decadent world, he shined the light of monotheism and divine moral clarity.

“You shall be for Me a kingdom of priests, a holy nation” (Exodus 19:6). G‑d entrusted the Jewish people with the obligation of being “a light unto the nations” (Isaiah 42:6).

It’s a job description that not only is arduous, but has caused genuine envy as well as the deepest and most vile hatred. Most of humanity would rather yield to the prevailing status quo and social pressure, rather than deviate.

Abraham, too, could easily have chosen to follow the norm; instead, he followed his soul. As a result he was thrown into a burning furnace, was expelled from his home, was tested countless times, and only miraculously escaped with his life. Nevertheless, he stood tall and firm in what he knew to be the truth.

He passed on this legacy to his descendants.

Throughout our lives, we too have choices, to follow the tide or to swim upstream. To be satisfied with the status quo, or to improve our world through a higher spiritual service or a greater moral code, or by pursuing social venues to service others. Throughout the centuries, Abraham’s descendants have made disproportionate contributions in all these areas.

Our greatest haters realized that this was our fate. They also realized that this desire to make our world a home for G‑d is inherently embedded within our Jewish soul.

Within each and every one of us.

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.

More in Parshah:

• Jew: Noun or Verb? (By Mendel Kalmenson)

What is a Jew?

Here is Webster's take:

Jew \΄jü\ n 2. one whose religion is Judaism - Jew·ish adj

But what is Judaism?

Ju·da·ism \΄jü-de-i-zem, - dā-, dē-\ n 1 a religion developed among the ancient Hebrews…

Is this definition consistent with Judaism's definition of itself?

Judaism Defined

The first Jew was Abraham. Our first real encounter with Abraham is in the context of his first G‑d-given commandment.

The following is how that encounter began.

G‑d said to Abraham: "Leave your land, your birthplace and your father's house [and go] to the land that I will show you."

The following is how that encounter concludes:

So Abraham went as G‑d had spoken.

Common reaction of the confused reader of this Biblical narrative: Who is this Abraham?

The only thing made known about him in an earlier account is his ancestry and his choice of Sarah as his wife. Nothing is said to describe the man who plays such a pivotal role in the genesis of our people.

For whatever reason, we are meant to meet an anonymous AbrahamThe background of the man commanded to leave everything behind and relocate to an unnamed location – to "stop, drop, and roll" – remains shrouded in secrecy.

Could it be that nothing is mentioned because there's nothing worth mentioning?

Not quite.

At the age of three, Abraham had already recognized the existence of the One G‑d. This, in stark contrast to his neighbors, all steeped in idol worship. He then devoted his life to spreading the message of monotheism—no small challenge in that pagan world.

He faced danger all the time, on one occasion even staring death in the eye. The Midrash relates that Nimrod, king of the region, had him thrown into a fiery furnace for his refusal to denounce his belief in the One G‑d, and only by a miracle was he saved.

With time and dedication, he went on to successfully reach countless heathen and transform them into believers.

Quite the résumé.

Yet the Torah keeps Abraham's glorious past under wraps. For whatever reason, we are meant to meet an anonymous Abraham.

But why?

Isn't there much to be learned from Abraham's exemplary beginnings? And perhaps more importantly, wouldn't that better inform us about the origins of our faith?

And from a literary point of view, wouldn't the Biblical narrative flow better if we knew a little more about its main character? Why was he singled out for a resettlement mission that promised huge dividends? What earned him the awesome privilege and responsibility to partner with the Almighty in such a historic covenant? What had he done to merit fathering G‑d's chosen nation?

These are only some of the questions that might have been answered had we been told of Abraham's unique early life.

Yet the Torah, in its unfathomable wisdom, chose to keep silent.

Ironically, it is this obscurity from which the strong lines that define a Jew emerge. It is this mystery that helps us solve another; namely, what defines a Jew?

It is this obscurity from which the strong lines that define a Jew emergeBy keeping quiet regarding Abraham's beginnings, the Torah tells us all there is to know about ours.

As it happens, the beginning of Judaism and Abraham's beginning are not one and the same. Although Judaism was born through him, Abraham wasn't born a Jew. He became a Jew at the age of seventy-five; G‑d's words, "Leave your land," were his official induction.

Until that point he was a "Noachide"; upon receiving his first commandment, he became a Jew.

What brought about the change?

Abraham's Metamorphosis

Until G‑d revealed Himself to Abraham, it was Abraham who had chosen G‑d. Until that point, G‑d had been Abraham's discovery, unearthed by the means of his intellect.

However bright he was, he was limited and unable to reach past himself and connect to an unlimited G‑d.

From the moment G‑d revealed Himself, however, a connection between them was forged. An infinite connection made by an infinite G‑d.

At that moment he was chosen by G‑d.

Until that point he had known G‑d in his mind; from that point onward he knew G‑d in his soul. He felt G‑d in his gut.

Until that moment he had understood that G‑d existed; through the revelation he experienced it. G‑d was now a part of him, and he was now a part of G‑d.

…So, Judaism is not "a religion developed among the ancient Hebrews" as Mr. Webster would have it, but "a religion revealed by G‑d to the ancient Hebrews."

A Question-Turned-Exclamation Mark

We asked why Abraham's past would be ignored. Wouldn't the knowledge of his discovery of G‑d and the sacrifices he made for Him serve to deepen our admiration for this giant of a man?

Perhaps, but it would also have caused us to miss the point of the story.

Thus the terms "better Jew" or a "bad Jew," for example, simply don't make sense This story was recorded in the Torah not so much for us to learn about Abraham's personal life, but more significantly to learn about our own.

In these few verses, a Jew and his religion are defined. And that definition is given as much by what is expressly left out as by what is expressly stated.

Abraham's childhood discovery of G‑d was deliberately omitted so that we not mistake Judaism as a faith based on knowledge.

A Jew who knows more about his heritage may appreciate being Jewish more than those with less knowledge, but he isn't more Jewish than they are.

(Which is why the terms "better Jew" or a "bad Jew," for example, simply don't make sense and should be deleted from our Jewish dictionary.)

All talk of Abraham's virtues are likewise absent, to teach us that even religious observance, however necessary, does not create one's connection to G‑d; it only enhances and reveals the connection that already exists, ever since G‑d revealed Himself to Abraham.

If we had been told of Abraham's lofty service to, and discovery of, G‑d, we may have walked away thinking that G‑d chose him due to his devotion, and worse, that He chooses us based on ours.

More or Less Jewish

In different words: "Judaism" describes an individual's identity, not his or her performance.

There is no such thing as a Jew who is more, or less, Jewish. You either are or you are not.

A Jew is a noun, not a verb.

What's in It for Me?

"Judaism" describes an individual's identity, not his or her performanceSometimes we tell ourselves that before getting more involved in Jewish life, logic dictates that we become more educated.

How sophisticated. But how wrong.

Judaism is a birthright, with no need to be acquired.

To misquote a famous saying:

It's not what you know, but who you…are!1

Rabbi Mendel Kalmenson is the rabbi of Beit Baruch and executive director of Chabad of Belgravia, London, where he lives with his wife, Chana, and children.

Mendel was an editor at the Judaism Website—Chabad.org, and is also the author of a popular book titled Seeds of Wisdom.

FOOTNOTES

1.Adapted from a talk by the Lubavitcher Rebbe, Likutei Sichot vol. 25 pg. 47-53.

• The Covenant of Abraham (By Rabbi Sholom B. Wineberg)

The Torah portion of Lech Lecha1 relates how G-d commanded Avraham to circumcise himself and the members of his household. By doing so, Avraham became the first and primary individual2 to adopt the sign of the holy covenant that exists between G-d and every Jew.

This connection between circumcision and Avraham is so strong that the blessings for circumcision include the phrase: “to enter him into the covenant of Avraham, our father,” i.e., the circumcision currently taking place is directly related to our patriarch Avraham. Since Avraham is our father,he makes it possible for all of us, his children, to inherit the privilege of entering into an eternal covenant with G-d.

This kind of inheritance is not at all dependent on any preparations or qualifications on the part of the inheritor — a one-day old infant can inherit everything. Moreover, such inheritance does not even entail a change of ownership;3 the inheritor merely takes the place of the legator.4

So, the covenant made by each and every Jew is the actual covenant of Avraham , since the ability of all Jews to enter into it comes as an inheritance from their father Avraham.

The following, however, must be understood: In explaining the commandment of circumcision, the Rambam states:5 “We do not engage in circumcision because our father Avraham, of blessed memory, circumcised himself and his household, but rather because G-d commanded us through our teacher Moshe to circumcise ourselves.”

But why then does the blessing read “into the covenant of Avraham, our father,” stressing the connection with Avraham? Would it not be better to say, “into a covenant with G-d,” thereby emphasizing that the person being circumcised is entering into a Divine covenant, as commanded by the Almighty?

There is something about circumcision that is unlike any other commandment. While all commandments bring about a unification with G-d, the result of this unification is not usually visible within the body of the one performing the deed; while the hand that distributes charity becomes more spiritually refined through the act, the change is not apparent. Circumcision is unique in that the change brought about by the performance of the commandment becomes a part of the person himself.

In effect, circumcision causes the entire person, even his lowest parts, to be eternally bound to G-d. Thus, a Jewish child is circumcised at an age when there can be no intellectual desire to fulfill commandments. For an act to affect every fiber of a person’s being, even his lowermost level, it is best to perform it when one is only eight days old.

The reason why the text of the blessing reads “to enter him into the covenant of Avraham, our father,” can be understood accordingly:

It is logical to assume that the performance of circumcision was more difficult for Avraham than for later generations; since he was the first to do so, he had to blaze the trail, as it were.6 But in truth, every Jew who performs circumcision performs it in the same manner as Avraham. The reason for this is that, were circumcision performed as the result of a logical imperative, then the logic behind it would become more readily discernible with the passage of time.

As stated above, however, circumcision is not performed because it is logical to do so; this is why it is performed on a child when he is only eight days old. Therefore, every Jew’s performance of circumcision is entirely similar to Avraham’s — he is verily performing it as a “first,” entering into it in exactly the same manner as did our father Avraham.

Based on Likkutei Sichos, Vol. X, pp. 44-47

FOOTNOTES

1.17:9ff.

2.Pesichtah d’Esther Rabbah 10.

3.Bava Kamma 111b; Bava Basra 44a.

4.Responsa Tzofnas Pa’aneiach, (Dwinsk) 1:118.

5.Commentary on Mishnayos, Chulin conclusion of ch. 7.

6.See Pri Ha’Aretz, Vayeira. See also Mechilta and Rashi on Yisro verse 19:5: “All beginnings are difficult.”

• Lech Lecha in a Nutshell

G‑d speaks to Abram, commanding him, “Go from your land, from your birthplace and from your father’s house, to the land which I will show you.” There, G‑d says, he will be made into a great nation. Abram and his wife, Sarai, accompanied by his nephew Lot, journey to the land of Canaan, where Abram builds an altar and continues to spread the message of a one G‑d.

A famine forces the first Jew to depart for Egypt, where beautiful Sarai is taken to Pharaoh’s palace; Abram escapes death because they present themselves as brother and sister. A plague prevents the Egyptian king from touching her, and convinces him to return her to Abram and to compensate the brother-revealed-as-husband with gold, silver and cattle.

Back in the land of Canaan, Lot separates from Abram and settles in the evil city of Sodom, where he falls captive when the mighty armies of Chedorlaomer and his three allies conquer the five cities of the Sodom Valley. Abram sets out with a small band to rescue his nephew, defeats the four kings, and is blessed by Malki-Zedek the king of Salem (Jerusalem).

G‑d seals the Covenant Between the Parts with Abram, in which the exile and persecution (galut) of the people of Israel is foretold, and the Holy Land is bequeathed to them as their eternal heritage.

Still childless ten years after their arrival in the Land, Sarai tells Abram to marry her maidservant Hagar. Hagar conceives, becomes insolent toward her mistress, and then flees when Sarai treats her harshly; an angel convinces her to return, and tells her that her son will father a populous nation. Ishmael is born in Abram’s eighty-sixth year.

Thirteen years later, G‑d changes Abram’s name to Abraham (“father of multitudes”), and Sarai’s to Sarah (“princess”), and promises that a son will be born to them; from this child, whom they should call Isaac (“will laugh”), will stem the great nation with which G‑d will establish His special bond. Abraham is commanded to circumcise himself and his descendants as a “sign of the covenant between Me and you.” Abraham immediately complies, circumcising himself and all the males of his household.

Essay

Happiness is Not Being There

By Tzvi Freeman

Eve came to the world. She became wrapped up with a snake.

Noah came to the world. What happened to him? "He drank from the wine and was drunk."

Sarah came to the world. She descended and she came back up, as it is said, "And Abram came up from Egypt, he and his wife with him."

For this, Sarah earned transcendental life . . . that life belonged to her.—Zohar 1:122b

The solution to the puzzle, in short, is that the Zohar is telling us a history of happiness. There are three approaches to happiness in the human repertoire. Two fail. One succeeds.

A Brief History of Happiness

“Am I happy yet?” That is the voice of the primordial snake.

Then came Sarah. She encountered the snake head-on, face-to-face, on its own territory, in the darkness of its own chamber, held tightly within its iron clutch.

And so, Sarah achieved eternal life. Because she healed the wound that Eve had inflicted upon the human soul.

Sarah eventually had a child. She named him Yitzchak (Isaac), which means, "he will laugh." Her life was filled with joy, and her child was a child of joy. We are the children of that child.

No Expectations

We all want to be happy. Sometimes we think happiness will come from getting what we want, enjoying it, and then getting more and more things we want. Further entanglement in the same old snake.

Sometimes we think happiness will come from forgetting ourselves, whether with alcohol, or drugs, or entertainment, or any other form of escape. Blame Noah for that one.

Well, the research data is all in, and it turns out that neither of these strategies ever made anybody any happier.

Those with no expectations carry an inner joy in all they do.

The ego becomes irrelevant, a mere nuisance. With purpose comes inner joy. With purpose, your life belongs to you. And it is eternal life, as your purpose is eternal.

Maamar Chayei Sarah 5712, 5720, 5741.

Editor's Note: The Jewish Learning Institute six-session course, How Happiness Thinks begins this November. Find a location near you at MyJLI.com.

YOUR QUESTIONS

Does Jewish Law Allow a Nurse to Treat an Ebola Patient?

Am I permitted to put my life in danger to save another?

By Yehuda Shurpin

Question:

I'm writing on behalf of my mother. She is a nurse and has been a nurse for 15 years. Her hospital is ready to accept Ebola patients from within a 100-mile radius. The problem is this: By caring for Ebola patients, she’ll actually be putting herself at pretty high risk. But if she refuses to care for them, she will obviously lose her license.

What should she do if/when the situation occurs?

Reply:

Ebola is a serious matter, and your mother is right to have her concerns. Before addressing your mother’s situation, I need to preface with some general thoughts on this very important subject.

I cannot overstate the primacy the Torah places on saving a life. We are commanded not to stand idly by as the blood of our fellow is being spilled.1 Indeed, our sages tell us that “he who saves even one life, it is as if he saved the entire world!”2

Yet, there are limitations as to when one is obligated to save someone else’s life, especially when doing so entails danger.3

Puting your own life at risk to save others

The Jerusalem Talmud relates that Rabbi Imi was captured and taken to a dangerous area. Upon hearing of this, Rabbi Yonatan stated, “Wrap the dead in his shrouds” (i.e., “He is as good as dead because we can’t save him”). Rabbi Shimon ben Lakish responded, “I will either kill or be killed; I will go with might and save him.” In the end, Rabbi Shimon ben Lakish was indeed successful in rescuing Rabbi Imi.4

Based on this precedent, some commentaries conclude that we are obligated to save a life even if in doing so we are possibly putting ourselves at risk.5

However, the Babylonian Talmud offers another view. Based on the verse “You shall observe My statutes and My ordinances, which a man shall do and live by them. I am the L‑rd,”6 the Babylonian Talmud explains that the commandments are meant to be kept when there is a certainty of life, but not when doing so will subject us to the possibility of death.7

As with other cases where the Jerusalem and Babylonian Talmuds have differences of opinion, the law follows the Babylonian Talmud.8 9 In fact, according to some authorities, in many instances we may even be forbidden to endanger ourselves to save others.10

Accordingly, the Code of Jewish Law rules that if a plague breaks out in a city, all citizens should try and evacuate the city before it spreads.11

Healthcare professionals

However, Rabbi Eliezer Waldenberg writes that this injunction does not apply to healthcare professionals, who are permitted—and it is a great mitzvah—to care for those who are infected, even if it means putting themselves in harm’s way.12 At the same time, the healthcare professionals need to do all they can to minimize the risk of infection. 13

Other authorities take it a step further. Since the healthcare professionals entered their profession out of their own free will, knowing full well that there were some risks involved, they are not only permitted but obligated to try and save the patient, even if they are putting themselves at low risk.14 Additionally, as long as the hospital is adequately equipped to guard the staff from infection (as much as possible), healthcare professionals may not abandon their patients.15

Since your mother is a trained healthcare provider, and she is able to protect herself from infection following the accepted guidelines, then even if there is some risk involved, it is a great mitzvah—and perhaps even obligatory—for her to stay on the job. If, however, there is a high probability of her contracting the lethal disease, she need not put herself in danger.

At the same time, when weighing the risk factors, our rabbis warn that one should not be overzealous in guarding one’s own life by ignoring the plight of those whose lives are in danger—for if one saves a Jewish life, it is as if he saved the entire world.16

Rabbi Yehuda Shurpin responds to questions for Chabad.org's Ask the Rabbi service.

FOOTNOTES

1.Leviticus 19:16.

2.Talmud, Sanhedrin 37a.

3.See Can I Donate My Kidney Against My Parent’s Wishes?

4.Jerusalem Talmud, Terumot 8:4.

5.Hagahot Maimoniot on Mishneh Torah, Hil. Rotzeach u-Shemirat Nefesh 1:15 (ed. Constantinople), cited also in Kesef Mishneh ibid. and in Beit Yosef on Tur, Choshen Mishpat 426:1. The reasoning seems to be (see Kesef Mishneh) that there is a certainty that the other person will lose his life without intervention, but it is only questionable about losing your own.

6.Leviticus 18:5.

7.See Talmud, Yoma 85b and Rashi ad loc., and Aruch la-Ner on Talmud, Sanhedrin 73a.

8.Some attempt to reconcile the two Talmuds by explaining that essentially the Jerusalem Talmud agrees that there is no obligation to risk one’s life to save another. These commentaries explain that Reish Lakish did so not out of obligation, but of his own volition (see, for example, Rabbi Moshe Feinstein, Igrot Moshe, Yoreh De’ah 2:174), or by explaining that Reish Lakish paid money to save Rabbi Aimi, but did not actually risk his own life. Thus, they explain that the Jerusalem Talmud agrees that one should not risk his own life (see commentary of Rabbi Chaim Heller on Sefer ha-Mitzvot, Prohibition 297). However, since most halachic codifiers seem to view them as two distinct opinions (see, for example, Shulchan Aruch ha-Rav, Choshen Mishpat, Hilchot Nizkei Guf ve-Nefesh 7), this article represents them as such.

9.See Sefer Me’irat Einayim (Sma) on Shulchan Aruch, Choshen Mishpat 426:2, and Pitchei Teshuvah ad loc.

10.Rashi on Talmud, Yoma 85b; Issur ve-Heter [he-Aroch] 59:38. See also Shulchan Aruch ha-Rav, Orach Chaim 329:8. However, see Likkutei Sichot, vol. 28, p. 153 footnote #19 and gloss on that footnote, in which the Rebbe notes that while Rabbi Schneur Zalman of Liadi writes in Orach Chaim simply that one shouldn’t put his life at risk to save another, without even mentioning the differing opinion, elsewhere (Choshen Mishpat, Hilchot Nizkei Guf ve-Nefesh 7) Rabbi Schneur Zalman cites both opinions, and only in parentheses does he rule according to the second opinion (see She’eirit Yehuda 6, where he explains that when there is a ruling in parentheses, Rabbi Schneur Zalman had in mind to further review that ruling again at a later time). For a full discussion on whether one can or is obligated to put his own life at risk to save another, see Encyclopedia Talmudit, s.v. Hatzolat Nefashot, p. 347.

11.Shulchan Aruch, Yoreah Deiah 116:5, see also Chidushei Rabbi Akiva Eiger ad loc .

12.Rabbi Eliezer Waldenberg, Tziz Eliezer, 9:17:5-7 http://hebrewbooks.org/pdfpager.aspx?req=14508&st=&pgnum=99 (see additional citation cited in the responsum).

13.Rabbi Eliezer Waldenberg, Tziz Eliezer in responsum 8:15:10:13 (Kunteres Mashivas Nefesh). http://hebrewbooks.org/pdfpager.aspx?req=14507&st=&pgnum=125

14.Nishmat Avraham, vol. 2 p. 267.

15.Rabbi Shmuel Wosner, responsum Shevet Halevi 8:251:7 http://hebrewbooks.org/pdfpager.aspx?req=1418&st=&pgnum=227.

16.See Pischei Teshuvah, Choshen Mishpat 426:2, Mishnah Berurah Orech chaim 329:19, Aruch hashulchan, choshen Mishpat, 426:4.

Women
Darkness, Anxiety and the Unknown

By Chanee Grossbaum

Chances are you know someone who is afraid of the dark. It might be your five-year-old daughter who insists that monsters emerge when the lights are off. It might be your teenage son who has an irrational fear of ghosts. Or it may be you, even though you’re old enough to know better, and mature enough to convince yourself that it’s not a big deal.Fears are fears, whether rational or not
But fears are fears, and whether rational or not, they can overwhelm us if we allow them to.
But what are we really afraid of?
Whether we are five or fifty, whether we are scared of monsters or ghosts or dark rooms, what we are really saying is that we feel vulnerable and powerless in a world where we want to feel in control.
Enter: anxiety.
Anxiety is the product of our fear. It is the feeling that things are not in our control. In fact, our fear is well-founded—every external event is totally out of our control. This does have a plus side, however: if we cannot control what happens to us, we are silently giving ourselves up to G‑d and His master plan. It means that we are admitting that as humans we have limitations, and the only thing in our power to control is our attitude to the circumstances that are thrown our way.
It may feel as though anxiety has power over us—it makes our heart beat faster, or our stomach feel all queasy. It compels us to avoid certain situations. But here’s the thing about anxiety some people may not know: it holds no power other than the power we bestow upon it. In other words, there really is nothing to fear but fear itself. Yes, we may feel as if we have every reason to be anxious, but when it comes down to it, anxiety exists only if we allow it to. If we squash our fear and replace it with the fear of G‑d, G‑d will always win and anxiety will take a back seat.
The only way for this to happen, however, is if we face our anxiety head-on. If we realize that our anxiety stems from the unknown and, instead of fighting it, give ourselves over to it completely, no longer will we be so fearful. If we allow ourselves to realize that every single thing in this universe is being orchestrated by G‑d, we will lose our fear. We will begin to see that life events are out of our control. With this innate understanding we will realize that G‑d, who is essentially a force of good, is the one running this world, not us. And only when we put our complete faith in G‑d will we start to realize that it is our trust that is keeping us safe, and that is the biggest guarantee of all.Anxiety exists only if we allow it to
So the next time you find yourself getting anxious over something that’s beyond your control, stop and remind yourself that there is a G‑d up in heaven who is doing the worrying for you. You may not see signs of His work down on this earth, but if you actively seek out His presence, you might start to realize that there is little to be anxious about and a lot to be reassured by.
Be prepared to come across traces of G‑d in some unlikely places—G‑d does have a way of working in mysterious ways. Keep an open heart and an open mind, let go of your fear and be prepared to be amazed when you least expect it.
Darkness, you have nothing on us when G‑d is in the picture.
(Note: Clinical anxiety may need to be assessed and treated by a mental health professional.)

Chanee Grossbaum is a freelance writer and artist living in Melbourne, Australia.

Women
The Tante Triumvirate

By B. Schreiber

My aunts

When I was growing up, most of my friends had two sets of grandparents—bubbies and zeidies who filled my playmates’ pockets with sweets and spoiled them with all manner of treats. They called their precious grandchildren tender names like “zeeskeit” (sweetie) or “sheffeleh” (little lamb), even when their darlings were not at all behaving like sweet, innocent lambs! Many grandparents were energetic enough to take an active part in my friends’ childhoods.
Most of my friends had two sets of grandparentsIn contrast, I had three maternal great-aunts, matriarchal figures who were treated like priceless antiques. They regarded me with special affection (I was their deceased sister’s granddaughter, and my mother was their only niece to have survived the Holocaust), but I was more likely to get a pinch on the cheek from Tante Fruma, a pat on the head from Tante Gittel or a kiss on my temple from Tante Temma than anything else. Nevertheless, I enjoyed visiting their homes, largely because they contained not-to-be-found-elsewhere treasures, like dainty porcelain dolls and a delicate Noritake demitasse set, which I was allowed to admire but not touch until I had proved my trustworthiness.
Despite their similarities, the tantes (aunts) had distinct personalities, and I learned to appreciate each one. Tante Temma was soft-spoken and emotional. She laughed or cried easily and, even under trying circumstances, never uttered a cross word.
Tante Gittel was very practical, no-nonsense and authoritative. This came in handy during a minor emergency one day, when my sister and I were left briefly in her care. I was lying on the rug with a picture book propped on my knees, when I suddenly noticed that my eighteen-month-old sister was playing with a pearl-shaped button she had apparently pried loose from the jumper I was wearing. Worried that she might pop it into her mouth, I extended my hand to take it from her. Perhaps realizing my intent, she somehow quickly shoved it into my nostril, and I was unable to dislodge it! Alarmed, I ran to the kitchen. Afraid to speak lest I aggravate the situation, I pointed desperately at my nose, tilting my head back very slightly so the tantes could see the problem.
Tante Temma cried hysterically, “Don’t breathe in!” Of course, I panicked further.
“Blow out hard,” Tante Gittel instructed dispassionately. I promptly did so, and to my relief, the button flew out. From then on, I made sure not to be alone with Tante Temma, sweet as she was.
The oldest of the three, Tante Fruma, was—true to her name—quite frum (religiously observant). She had a rather sardonic sense of humor, I later realized, but hardly smiled. In retrospect, I believe this was due to her disappointment in the minimal religious observance of her descendants. She often remarked wryly that she wished her son-the-doctor’s MD degree could be traded for a “Mitzvahs Done” degree. Providentially, her tears during Shabbat candle lighting yielded results that she lived to see: One of her grandsons became a baal teshuvah (returnee to Judaism), whose Torah-observant family gave her much spiritual nachas (fulfillment). As a sprightly septuagenarian, a ready smile began to grace her face.
I regarded the tantes as a trio, and an incident that occurred when I was a fourth grader left an indelible impression about the powerful potential of unity, especially when disparate personalities are involved.
It was report-card day, to which I usually looked forward. A model student, I had been sailing through school with a solid reputation, which made my immigrant parents proud. Teachers had always liked me: I was well-behaved, conscientious and eager to please. My report cards were becoming boringly predictable, especially in the conduct column: solid A’s traditionally festooned it. But fourth grade brought an unwelcome change—a B minus forMy report cards were becoming boringly predictable conduct. I felt mortified upon seeing it. How could I bring home so devastating a report? Such blight on my excellent record would irrevocably undo it, I worried too late. True, I hadn’t been perfectly attentive during my secular studies teacher’s lessons, preferring to chat with my seatmate, but surely my lapse didn’t warrant such a Humpty Dumpty-like fall from the heights!
I straggled home listlessly, envisioning different scenarios, all of them decidedly unpleasant. A delicious aroma greeted me when I opened the door. Tantes Fruma and Gittel were at our kitchen table, baking their specialties alongside my mother. Mother knew I was getting my report card and was eager for her tantes to share her joy in my achievements, so there was no possibility to delay revealing the shameful truth. I lowered my eyes as I handed the report to my mother, blushing furiously, at a complete loss for how to explain this fall from grace.
Mother raised her eyes after what seemed to me an interminably long time.”Is this a mistake?” she asked. Her question shocked me, because in our house, educators were held in the highest esteem. They didn’t make mistakes.
I shook my head from side to side and bit my lip, feeling miserable about having let her down so badly that she had to resort to thinking in this completely out-of-character way. Tante Fruma said something in Polish to my mother, who nodded.
“Nisht azoi gefehrlach (Not so terrible)!” Tante Gittel declared. “Mine Hymie was not such a wonderful student in grade school, and he’s a CPA today!”
Tante Fruma, who had seen my card by this time, corrected her sister. Speaking in Yiddish, which I understood, she assured her that my grades in each subject were basically as good as usual, but my conduct mark was disastrous. She called it a “bushah” (embarrassment), and perhaps because this was the first reproach I had ever heard from her, my eyes filled with tears. Tante patted my trembling hand and said it was good I was ashamed because that was the first step to teshuvah, repentance.
Tante Gittel, ever goal-oriented, decided to get to the root of the problem in order to take care of it. When I admitted guilt for being a chatterbox, Tante Fruma was pleased. “Good!” she said again. “That’s step number two towards teshuvah, Bashaleh.” Her use of a pet name began to reassure me that the situation wasn’t irredeemable.
I admitted guilt for being a chatterboxRelieved, I went to answer the ringing telephone. It was Tante Temma, whose cheerful voice was a further boon to my mood—until she spoke to her oldest sister, who filled her in on “a shtickel nisht gitteh nayis (a bit of not-such-good news).” My conduct mark had become a family concern! Would Tante Temma cry? I heard Tante Fruma saying into the receiver, “Tell her what you just said,” and she handed the phone to me.
Gently, Tante Temma repeated her remark: “Except for one B plus, even my boychiklach didn’t get less than an A minus for behavior.” I smiled, in spite of myself, at her calling her married sons “little boys,” but a moment later, when I absorbed the implication of her mild-mannered rebuke, I cried outright.
Mother placed her hands on my shaking shoulders. “There, there,” Tante Temma was saying. “I just wanted you to know that in our family, there is nothing more important than derech eretz (respect)for parents, elders and teachers.”
My three great-aunts, so different in personality, all agreed that being a mensch was an absolute, non-negotiable value. This was a lesson that has come to mind repeatedly in my own role as mother, grandmother and teacher—one I strive to impart to my children and students. Thank G‑d, whenever I’ve faced a challenge in doing so, retelling the story of “the tante triumvirate” has always yielded positive results!

B. Schreiber, M.A., is an English teacher, writer and editor whose stories and essays have appeared in various publications. She lives in Jerusalem with her family.

Jewish News
Q&A: Meet Rabbi Avraham Meyer Zajac: Master Talmud Teacher

By Menachem Posner

The daily Talmud class of Rabbi Avraham Meyer Zajac, co-director of Chabad-Lubavitch SOLA-South La Cienega, Calif., is now online. (Photo: The Eiden Project)

Chabad.org’s array of video classes on Jewish.tv was recently enriched by the addition of a daily Talmud class given by Rabbi Avraham Meyer Zajac, who co-directs Chabad-Lubavitch SOLA-South La Cienega, Calif., with his wife, Stery.
Zajac, who grew up in Brazil, went out on shlichus to California in 2007. Here, he reflects on his journey to the rabbinate, his community’s growth, and what he looks forward to offering a global audience.
Q: Can you share a bit about your community in southern California?
A: Ours is a young, diverse community with a real range of backgrounds. Located between the larger Jewish communities of Pico-Robertson and La Brea in Los Angeles, there are many young families attracted to the area by the affordable housing, and more are coming all the time. Some are yeshivah-educated—from Chabad and non-Chabad institutions—and then there are many who are really just starting out, so there is a real mix, reflecting the whole Jewish community.
In addition to the many other classes, we learn a page of Talmud at 6 a.m., before 7 a.m. prayers. We’re a lively bunch, and we feed off each other’s energy. There are around a dozen of us who attend regularly since we began the class six years ago, and it’s really become part of our lives, something most of us cannot imagine starting our day without. Over the years, I have seen the Torah study really change people, some in subtle ways, and some in also more obvious and always in profound ways.
Q: How about you? How did you become a master Talmud teacher?
A: I grew up in Brazil, where my family had been living since my grandfather was sent there by the Previous Rebbe (Rabbi Yosef Yitzchak Schneersohn, of righteous memory) to serve as a community shochet (ritual slaughterer).

The class takes place at 6 a.m., before 7 a.m. prayers. (Photo: The Eiden Project)

My love and passion of learning came from my parents, Rabbi Motel and Rivka Zajac, may they be well. My earliest childhood memories include hearing my father learn every day in the wee hours of the morning.
When I was a child, we had the privilege of hosting Rabbi Shmuel Dovid Raitchik from Los Angeles, who would come to Brazil for around a month every year. He left a very strong impression on me.
In 1982, I came by his recommendation to learn in Yeshiva Ohr Elchonon Chabad in L.A., where I had the merit to learn Talmud and other subjects with the one-of-a-kind Rosh Yeshivah, Rabbi Ezra Schochet. The Torah institutions of the Rebbe (Rabbi Menachem M. Schneerson, of righteous memory) are permeated with joy and passion towards learning and teaching Torah.
Now, years later, I have the unique privilege to serve as the Rebbe’s emissary under Rabbi Boruch S. Cunin, director of West Coast Chabad, and part of the team of California shluchim(Chabad emissaries) who are exceptional in both Chassidishkeit(Chassidic warmth and teachings), and in making Torah learning and teaching a cornerstone of their mission. This gives me additional inspiration to do my part in learning and teaching Torah.
After I completed my studies in New York and a few months after I married my wife, Stery, in 1991, we moved to Hong Kong as Chabad emissaries under Rabbi Mordechai Avzton. There, I began to give my first daily Talmud class following the DafYomi (page a day) cycle. There were many businesspeople passing through Hong Kong, and such a Torah class was a service that many of them appreciated. Thank G‑d, throughout the years, I continued to teach the daily Daf Yomi, and shortly after establishing Chabad Sola here in Los Angeles in 2007, I continued this class with our community.

“There are around a dozen of us who attend regularly since we began the class six years ago, and it’s really become part of our lives, something most of us cannot imagine starting our day without,” explains the rabbi. (Photo: The Eiden Project)

Q: With hundreds of such classes taking place all over the world, in what way would you characterize the uniqueness of this class?
A: Our studies are colored by the teachings of Chassidus. There are probably 80 people in our congregation who learn Chitas (a Hebrew acronym for Chumash, the five books of Moses; Tehillim, or Psalms; and Tanya, the seminal work of Chassidic philosophy by Rabbi Schneur Zalman of Liadi, the Alter Rebbe),
The Rebbe encouraged the daily study of Chitas, Maimonides' Mishneh Torah and HaYom Yom (the Rebbe's compilation of teachings of the Previous Rebbe) emphasizing that these daily study portions are applicable to everyone, and many of us learn other Chassidic tracts as well.
In this setting, it’s only natural to find resonance between the subjects we are learning. When you live with what you learn, it influences every area of your life, and your learning is no exception. Seeing the mechanics of Talmud through the lens of Chassidus is very inspiring and has a very deep effect on all of us.

“Over the years, I have seen the Torah study really change people, some in subtle ways, and some in also more obvious and always in profound ways,” says Zajac. (Photo: The Eiden Project)

Q: Now that your class is online, what changes did you need to make, either in the content or the presentation?
A: Again, we are a lively bunch, so some of us need to restrain ourselves a bit. Also, since we learn every day of the year—including Shabbat and Jewish holidays, days when we don’t record—we’re relearning those classes the day after Shabbat or the holiday for the benefit of the online audience.
I really must acknowledge the guidance and inspiration I’ve received from Rabbi Joshua B. Gordon of Encino, Calif. He’s been giving online classes for many years on Chabad.org, and I am in touch with him regularly.
In fact, Rabbi Gordon is about to complete the full corpus of Maimonides’ Mishneh Torah, which he has been teaching for three years now following the cycle the Rebbe established. That is a wonderful milestone for him and the thousands all over the world who have grown in their Torah learning along with him.

The class learns every day of the year, including Shabbat and Jewish holidays, though, of course, they don't record on those days. So they relearn those classes the day after for the benefit of the online audience. (Photo: The Eiden Project)

Q: Any final thoughts?
A: We’re all very excited about our class, and thank G‑d that we can share it with many other people. It’s an honor and privilege for us to be joined by the Chabad.org community.
Rabbi Zajac’s classes can be viewed here on Jewish.tv.

Zajac and his students say they're thrilled their class can now be viewed by others. (Photo: The Eiden Project)

Jewish News
At Home in Hoboken

By Karen Schwartz

Shimshon Korr, left, and Emmanuel Shalom, Hebrew-school students at Chabad Lubavitch of Hoboken, N.J., check out the ornamental case for Chabad's new Sefer Torah, with the engraved names of the 64 Israel Defense Forces soldiers killed in this summer’s war with Hamas in Gaza. (Photo: Lauren Casselberry)

Rosh Hashanah, Yom Kippur and Sukkot seemed significantly different for Ori Cohen. This year, for the first time, he really felt at home.
That’s because Chabad Lubavitch of Hoboken in New Jersey celebrated a new home—its first permanent space—just before the holidays. In fact, it has been declared the first new synagogue in the city in 100 years.
“When I went there during the holidays, I really felt like I was in one of the shuls back in Israel. I really felt the holiday because of the shul,” says Cohen, 36, who moved to Hoboken from Israel about 14 years ago.
He met Rabbi Moshe Schapiro—who co-directs Chabad Lubavitch of Hoboken, now also called the Weisfeld Family Chabad Jewish Center of Hoboken, with his wife, Shaindel—early on, and has gotten more actively involved with Chabad in the last handful of years.
“Now, even though it’s not my family there, the community’s kind of a family for me, too. And when you have your own place, you feel more like you belong,” affirms Cohen.
Cohen was working at an Israeli-owned car wash in Hoboken more than a decade ago, and Schapiro would come by, give him challah, and invite him to events and classes. Eventually, Cohen prospered, got more time to himself—he now renovates and manages car washes—and added Chabad to his calendar.
He remembers the temporary spaces they used for Shabbat services and meals, and then, two years ago this month, how Hurricane Sandy washed everything away. He recalls Schapiro’s efforts to move services to his own house as a result.

Hoboken Mayor Dawn Zimmer and her husband, Stan Grossbard, share a moment of joy with the new Torah. (Photo: Lauren Casselberry)

When the time came for Chabad to get its own space, Cohen jumped in with an offer to help with the construction.
He proudly attended the ribbon-cutting at last month’s grand opening and even donated Chabad’s new Torah, which was completed with the community that day, Sept. 21, by a sofer (scribe) who flew in from Jerusalem for the occasion. Children from Chabad’s Hebrew school gathered round to watch the sofer write the last letter.
The new Sefer Torah was dedicated to the 64 soldiers killed in Israel’s summer war with Hamas in Gaza; their names were engraved in Hebrew on the Torah’s ornamental case.
Nearly 300 men, women and children marched the Torah to its new home, amid traditional Jewish music, lots of flag-waving and public cheer.
The processional included an elaborate float with live music and police officers on motorcycle. Several local dignitaries were also in attendance, including Hoboken Mayor Dawn Zimmer and her husband, Stan Grossbard; Hoboken Police Chief Edelmiro Garcia; and Mayor Richard Turner of Weehawken, N.J.
“The energy was unbelievable! People were so excited, you could feel it. We marched right up the main avenue,” says Shaindel Schapiro.

From Kids to Seniors

The rabbi and his wife started their programming in Hoboken in September 2001, just after 9/11. Since their first High Holiday services, attendance has grown by leaps and bounds. They get young professionals who live there and commute to jobs in New York City, in addition to families and seniors who have resided in the area most of their lives.

Torah donor Ori Cohen, 36, and his father-in-law return the new and old Torahs to the Chabad center with Rabbi Moshe Schapiro, co-director of Chabad Lubavitch of Hoboken with his wife. Shaindel. (Photo: Lauren Casselberry)

When they started looking for a new space, it took six months to find the site on 80 Park Ave. and then six months to build the new facility. Now, this Chabad center has a shul, social space, kitchen, office, handicapped-accessible restroom and more. The new location is also within walking distance for many Hoboken residents.
According to Shaindel Schapiro, approximately 5,000 Jews live in Hoboken out of a total of about 50,000 residents, and another 5,000 live in the much more populous Jersey City with its nearly 250,000 residents—the second-largest city in New Jersey after Newark. Growing families are attracted to both these places, which offer direct public-transportation lines to New York; in turn, Chabad of Hoboken attracts these young families to its services, classes, events and youth programs. To accommodate them, Chabad’s Hebrew school enrolls area children as young as age 3.
The Schapiros have gotten to know people around town through many different avenues, including annual city-organized festivals. Many are transient—a significant number of young adults, especially, come and go, she says. “There’s always someone new moving in.”
Eugene Wishnic left Hoboken in June 2009 after living there for about seven years. Still, the 47-year-old came back for the dedication event to see the Torah completed and to celebrate the new building.

Cohen and the rabbi affix the mezuzah on the main doorway. (Photo: Lauren Casselberry)

“I try and go back whenever I can,” says Wishnic, who travels there for Purim and Chanukah, and visits whenever he can from Highland Park, N.J., which is roughly an hour away. When he moved, the rabbi got him all the mezuzahs for his new place and came to help him put them up.
Wishnic remembers the first Shabbat diner he spent with the Schapiros, and the warm and inviting environment they created at their table. “I was involved in pretty much every event they had and everything from that point forward,” he says.
He looks forward to seeing the community and synagogue grow in its new space under the tireless leadership of a rabbi who is always out in the streets making connections. “If someone’s Jewish, he’ll do a great job of getting people in, and usually if you come in, you stick around.”
This holiday season, he reminisced about all the time he spent in prior years with the rabbi setting up sukkahs. “I used to help build them. There were three, in particular, we’d put up. We would put everything on top of his car and tie up all these panels, then make the trek and go put it together. It’s been a few years, but that’s one of the things we used to do,” he notes with genuine sentiment.

Always Welcome, Always Available

Joyce Boll grew up near Hoboken and has owned her own home there for 12 years. She met Rabbi Schapiro through a friend whose life was changed through knowing the Chabad couple. Boll, an executive producer by trade, was looking for spiritual guidance in her own life, and her friends suggested she meet the rabbi.

Richard Turner, mayor of Weehawken, N.J., shares greetings at a grand event last month celebrating Chabad's new home and Torah, accompanied by Rabbi Schapiro. (Photo: Lauren Casselberry)

“I was really impressed with how he handled my quandary,” she says. “He was very broad-minded, intelligent; he was very elegant.”
She has known the rabbi and his wife for more than 10 years now, and says she believes in them and their work, and admires their dedication to following in the steps of the Rebbe—Rabbi Menachem M. Schneerson, of righteous memory. “They do it with a lot of beauty, grace and joy, and so I try and support them to make sure they have the tools to do whatever they do.”
She also appreciates their positivity. “He finds ways to put answers in a love-based, loving connotation,” she explains. “And she’s the same. They’re genuine, kind people, and they’re honestly trying to do good by everyone they meet.”
Boll recently adopted a child, who was greeted with two freshly baked challahs from Shaindel Schapiro, delivered by the rabbi. “They drop everything to make me feel welcome.”
On Sukkot, she arrived after everyone had eaten since she had been taking care of her baby. But when she arrived, people got up and immediately brought her food, and she joined them in the sukkah. “It’s a simple, plain sukkah, but it’s very inviting because when you go inside, there’s always laughter, there’s always a couple kids inside, and there’s always interesting people there.”
More broadly, Boll says it’s a blessing to have the rabbi and his wife in their community. “They’re always available and accessible, whether for the High Holidays or any holiday, or if you have something in your family going on,” she says. “The answer is always: ‘Yes, I can. Yes, we will.’ ”

A Torah float with music led the procession on the streets of Hoboken to Chabad's new home at 80 Park Ave. (Photo: Lauren Casselberry

Men march and dance down the main street—Washington Street—past Hoboken City Hall. (Photo: Lauren Casselberry)

Those who helped cut the welcoming ribbon include, from left, Pamela Weisfeld, Shaindel Schapiro, Jill Weisfeld, Norman Weisfeld, Edith Weisfeld, Alan Weisfeld, Hoboken Mayor Dawn Zimmer, Bruce Weisfeld and Rabbi Schapiro. The name of the new building is the Weisfeld Family Chabad Jewish Center. (Photo: Lauren Casselberry)

An outdoor festive meal takes place on the street outside the new center. (Photo: Lauren Casselberry)

Jewish News
Mezuzah Torn Down in Hate Crime, 30 More Go Up

By Mordechai Lightstone, Chabad.edu

Rabbi Yossi Matusof, co-director of Chabad Student Center of Claremont, with AEPi members, from left, Mike Levy, Dylan Saffer, Bryan Turkel and Elliott Hamilton, all of whom hung mezuzahs after one was ripped down at Claremont McKenna College during the High Holidays.

Shortly before Yom Kippur, Bryan Turkel, a Jewish student in his senior year at Claremont McKenna College—one of a consortium of five undergraduate liberal-arts schools and two graduate schools in Southern California called the Claremont Colleges—found the mezuzah on his doorframe torn down. The previous week, Turkel’s dorm room had been broken into, and an Israeli flag he had displayed prominently had been stolen.
Rattled by these acts, students contacted campus officials.
The president of Claremont McKenna College, Hiram Chodosh, and the dean of students office immediately issued a letter decrying the incident.
But Joshua Naon, a friend of Turkel’s, felt that something more needed to be done. “This was clear targeting and a hate crime,” he insisted.
So he contacted Andrew Borans, executive director of the international Jewish fraternity AEPi, and suggested that the hateful act serve as impetus to bring change on campus.

Claremont McKenna College in Southern California (Photo: Wikimedia Commons)

“I want to make sure that this Jewish community feels safe,” he wrote to Borans. “I want each brother to have the ability to put up a mezuzah. If anyone tries to rip one down, we will put 30 more up.”
AEPi contacted Chabad on Campus International, and working together with Rabbi Yossi Matusof, Chabad-Lubavitch emissary to the Claremont Colleges, 30 mezuzahs were overnight-mailed to Turkel and his peers.
“We want everyone to know that this is a real issue,” stresses Borans. “Chabad on Campus International and AEPi foundation want our students to know that we will not be bullied by people. Before where there may have only been one or two mezuzahs, now every student has one. That’s the best payback you can have.”

‘Unbelievable Leadership Qualities’

Naon, who is currently working on his master’s degree, says neither he nor any of his friends recall previous such incidents on campus.
According to Matusof, the excitement over the new mezuzahs was palpable among the recipients.
The rabbi, who arrived last year on campus with his wife, Rochel, as co-directors of Chabad Student Center of Claremont, estimates that about 800 Jewish students attend the colleges out of a total student population of 5,500 undergraduates.
“I’ve witnessed unbelievable leadership qualities among the students here,” says Matusof. “Their initiative to bring so many new mezuzahs to campus has impacted not just the 30 students who received them, but the student population as a whole.”

Saffer proudly displays his new mezuzah. A total of 30 were recently affixed on student doorposts.

Jewish News
New Chabad Center to Sit in South Orlando ‘Hot Spot’

By Mindy Rubenstein

Helping dig into a new Chabad House in Florida are, from left, Orange County Sheriff Jerry Demings; Orange County Mayor Teresa Jacobs; Brett Kingstone, CEO Max King Realty; Julian Benscher, president, Skyship Services; David Siegel, CEO, Westgate Resorts; Richard Harary, CEO, Macrobaby; Dr. Abe Hardoon; and Rabbi Yosef Konikov, co-director of Chabad of South Orlando. (Photo: Sonacity Productions)

Sometimes, sudden success at different stages of even the most carefully planned project can come as a surprise, even to the organizers themselves. Take, for instance, finding a prime new site for a Chabad center, coupled with great community support for the project.
“It’s tremendous!” declares Rabbi Yosef Konikov, co-director of Chabad of South Orlando with his wife, Chani, about what they call the “perfect” location of Chabad of South Orlando’s soon-to-be built new facility in one of America’s most popular vacation spots.
Last month’s groundbreaking event celebrating the coming together of a number of positive factors drew more than 300 people from the community and throughout Orlando, including Teresa Jacobs, the mayor of Orange County, Fla.; local law-enforcement representatives, including Orange County sheriff Jerry Demings; and area dignitaries. A proclamation by the mayor of Orlando, Buddy Dyer, was also read aloud.
“We dove right into this,” Konikov says about the site search, fundraising efforts and architectural plans for a new 11,000-square-foot facility, which will include a synagogue, social hall, administrative space, and, perhaps most important of all, the Chai Jewish Preschool and the Orlando Jewish Day School, both run by Chabad. The new building will be more than double the size of the space at Chabad of South Orlando’s current location on Tamarind Circle.
The rabbi notes that 53 million visitors come through the Orlando area each year—as many as, if not more than, the number of annual visitors to New York City.

Rabbi Yosef and Chani Konikov addressed the audience at last month's groundbreaking event. (Photo: Sonacity Productions)

“The amount of people who interact with Chabad here is really amazing. I meet people from nearly every single country around the world all the time,” he says.
The Konikovs moved to Orlando in 2000 from the Crown Heights neighborhood of Brooklyn, N.Y. She is originally from Bologna, Italy; he is from Worcester, Mass., and Englewood, N.J. They recently had their seventh child.
About 40 guests attend Shabbat dinner any given week, mostly locals, but during the busiest time of the year—December, for example, when the snowbirds arrive and families with children to visit the tourist attractions—that number can jump to more than 150.
And for Rosh Hashanah, the Konikovs hosted 250 people for services and meals, and nearly double that number for Yom Kippur and the “break fast.”

‘Busy and Upscale’

The Orlando area also has a Chabad of Greater Orlando on the north side in Maitland, Fla.; Chabad-Lubavitch of North Orlando in Lake Mary, Fla.; and Chabad at the University of Central Florida in Oviedo, Fla.
The new location of Chabad of South Orlando is on a strip called “Restaurant Row,” off the famous International Drive, which connects major theme parks, hotels, retail and outlet shopping, and the Orange County Convention Center, the second-largest convention center in the United States (topped only by Chicago’s McCormick Place), offering 7 million square feet of space.
“This facility is considered to be a hot spot in Orlando. It’s busy and upscale,” says Konikov, “centralized between the tourists and the community. It’s perfect.”

More than 300 people from the community came to usher in a new Chabad facility to be built off Orlando's famous International Drive. (Photo: Sonacity Productions)

He added that one city official commented that it’s a “high-profile spot for a synagogue.”
Indeed, the rabbi feels that the meeting between locals and tourists will only flourish, with both parties benefiting from the relationship. It will truly have an international feel, affirms the rabbi; “we expect this to become a place where people in the community will get to meet people from all over the world.”
That is, if they haven’t already.

Teachers at the Chai Preschool Alexis Lewis, left, and Dini Druk, with her baby daughter. (Photo: Sonacity Productions)

Raina Sinberg moved to Orlando with her husband, Scott, and daughter, Maya, from New York five years ago; Maya is currently a second-grader at the Orlando Jewish Day School. She says Chabad and the day school have grown in just the short time she has been there.
The educational institution enrolls students in kindergarten through third grade, with another grade added each year, according to Konikov. The elementary school grew out of Chai Preschool, which opened in 2009.
“I’m very excited about having the new building—for the school and for events, and just a place to house and host everything,” says Sinberg.
She notes that the Konikovs invited her family into their home as soon as they arrived in the city, and she marvels at the variety of guests they meet there and at the synagogue: “Most Shabbats, you meet people from all over who are always grateful.”

Members of the Konikov family take a stab at handling the construction materials. (Photo: Sonacity Productions)

More than that, it’s become like a second home. “I think it’s what everyone says about Chabad,” relates Sinberg. “They take everyone in like family. They make everyone feel like they are home and like family.”
Ken Goldman of Teaneck, N.J., would certainly agree with that notion. He travels with his family twice a year to Miami for business and then heads north to relax a bit in Orlando.
Goldman fondly remembers his first Shabbat with the Konikovs five years ago. That encounter has grown into a strong and solid relationship.
“The rabbi is almost like a brother to me,” he says. “I’ve been there so many times and gotten together with him so many times, he’s like a member of my family.”

Activities for children, including balloon-making, were on hand at the event. (Photo: Sonacity Productions)

Story
Tomorrow May Be Too Late

By Shmeel

"You'd best go home, Sarah. You have several days, a week at the most. I'm so sorry.”
They staggered, husband and wife, towards the parking lot of Hadassah Hospital. The sun was setting, and the Jerusalem sky was ablaze with a multitude of colors.
Her sun was setting, and yet it was too early. Her life-clock read noon—there must be a mistake.
A woman of valor, who can find? Far beyond pearls is her value.
Her husband's heart trusts in her and he shall lack no fortune.
How would they tell the kids? It hadHer sun was setting, too early all happened so quickly. “They'll want to fly in as soon as they find out,” he said, as he turned the key in the ignition. She nodded.
They drove in complete silence. There was nothing to say.
Maybe there was too much to say.
By the time they got home, it was already dark outside and neither had any appetite. She because of the meds, and he because of the fear. Indescribable fear.
It was Wednesday night. Tomorrow was Thursday, and on Friday the kids would come for the weekend.
She fell asleep. Her husband lay awake thinking. Dreading.
Dear Reader, what would you do if you awoke to a life measured in minutes instead of decades? If you awoke to indescribable pain, sorrow and uncertainty? If you awoke, but were unsure if you were actually awake?
Let me tell you what she did.
She rises while it is still nighttime, and gives food to her household and a ration to her maids.
She girds her loins with might and strengthens her arms.
When she awoke, she sang:
"King of Kings, Thank You for life,
For abundance, for tears, for laughter.
Even amidst difficulty, even then, my Creator,
You are never distant."
Would you lounge around, undressed, unkempt, confused, angry, sad?
Not her.
She got dressed and put on makeup. She wanted to look beautiful. She wanted her family to remember her as she had always been.
Young, vibrant—alive.
Give her the fruit of her hands, and she will be praised at the gates by her very own deeds.

Far Away

In Belgium, her kids, all three of them, had already booked tickets and were packing. Their father had called them the night before to break the news.
They too were shell-shocked. They too had had a sleepless night. They too felt as though their world was falling apart. It was falling apart.
It couldn’t be true. She was the sweetest and kindest person in the world. She was their mother.
Suitcases ready, the trio sat together to talk, to reminisce. They had been a handful growing up, of that there was no doubt. But she always had patience, everlasting patience. And she always wore a smile, the warmest smile in the world.
Perhaps they should have called more often. Visited more often. Said “Thank you” more often. Hugged more often. Perhaps, if they had been more grateful . . .
She opens her mouth with wisdom, and the teaching of kindness is on her tongue.
Her children rise and celebrate her; and her husband, he praises her: "Many daughters have attained valor, but you have surpassed them all."

Close By

Her husband had also awoken early and had gone to a nearby park to think, to clear his mind. Thirty years flashed before him in an instant. They married young, but had waited years for the triplets. Money was tight in the early days, and their marriage had survived ups and downs. Decades later, money was no longer a problem, but his job was demanding, too demanding, and he was almost never home.
Thirty years flashed before him in an instantPerhaps he should have been home more. Paid more attention. Bought her that pendant. Taken her on that trip. Apologized more. Appreciated her more.
She repays his good, but never his harm, all the days of her life.
She spreads out her palm to the poor and extends her hands to the destitute.

At Home

She felt weak suddenly. It wasn't novel; most days were like this. So she sat down on the edge of the bed.
She smiled, remembering the days when her kids would come into her bed in the early morning and jump around. She would get aggravated. “It’s 6 a.m., go back to sleep!” she would say.
Not now. Now she would tell them to jump forever. Tomorrow, when they would come, she would apologize for not being more patient, and maybe they would jump again . . .
Strength and splendor are her clothing, and smilingly she awaits her last day.
False is grace, and vain is beauty; a G‑d-fearing woman, she should be praised.
She felt dizzy suddenly. It happened all the time; it was a side effect of the medicine. So she put her feet up and leaned on the headboard.
She looked around the room. They had moved in almost 20 years ago, and every piece of furniture was hand picked and had special meaning.
On the walls, pictures of her grandchildren. Each special, each beautiful, each with a unique character and disposition. She had hoped so much to be able to be there for school celebrations and graduations.
On the night table, a prayer book from her youngest daughter’s wedding. What a beautiful wedding it had been. They had danced and danced till the wee hours of the morning. Everything had been so special, so perfect, so full of life.
She felt tired suddenly. Her eyelids felt heavy.
Just going to close my eyes for a second.
The kids were coming in tomorrow for the “last weekend.” They would tell their mother how much they loved her. How sorry they were for not being better children. How much she meant to them. How the world would have no meaning without her. They would tell her tomorrow.
Her husband started heading home and was formulating the sentences in his mind as he walked. Sorry for the anger, the austerity, the strictness, the pedantry. Sorry I was never there. Sorry I didn’t buy you that necklace, or take you on that trip. Sorry I didn’t appreciate you. He would tell her tomorrow.
But tomorrow was too late.
He came home and called her name, but no one answered.
I ran across the street when the call came in on my beeper.He called her name, but no one answered I knew the apartment well; I had been there before. The door was open and I raced inside, not stopping to knock or announce myself.
He was standing in the doorway of the room.
She looked like she was asleep. But she wasn’t. She had returned her soul to its Maker, singing His praises in Heaven, as she had done on Earth.
I looked back at him, unable to find the right words.
He spoke first. "Is it the end?" he asked, sobbing already, because he knew the answer.
"I’m sorry. I'm so sorry. It’s the end."

Postscript

If there’s something you've wanted to say to your spouse, parents, child, or siblings for the longest time, but were too busy or too uncomfortable or couldn’t find the right words—say it now.
And if there’s something you've wanted to say to G‑d for the longest time, but didn't know He was listening—say it now.
Don't wait for tomorrow.
For tomorrow might never come.

May her memory be a blessing, and may the Almighty comfort her loving family amongst the mourners of Zion and Jerusalem.
Dedicated to the Women of Valor in my life: ES, MS, MW, OS and SF. May you live long, healthy, happy and prosperous years, and have much nachat from your beautiful families.

Shmeel is an Ambucycle (ambulance + motorcycle) first responder, volunteering for EMS in Jerusalem, Israel. On his blog, he recounts incredible real-life stories from the front lines of emergency medicine in Israel.

Story
A Tzaddik’s Tear

By Yerachmiel Tilles

Rabbi Israel Meir Kagan (1838-1933), the "Chafetz Chaim"

About 30 years ago, an American rabbi visiting Miami, Florida gave a lecture on the life and accomplishments of the famed "Chafetz Chaim" (Rabbi Israel Meir HaCohen Kagan, 1838-1933). He described the life of the great sage who lived a humble life as a shopkeeper in the village of Radin, in Poland, yet was recognized throughout the Jewish world as a great scholar, tzaddik (righteous person) and leader.
There was another story the rabbi wanted to tell, but he hesitated, for he only knew part of it. As he stood at the lectern, he thought for a moment and then decided that he would tell it anyway. He rationalized that even an unfinished story about the Chafetz Chaim would have a meaningful message.
He began to relate an incident about a teenage boy in the Chafetz Chaim's yeshiva who was found smoking a cigarette on Shabbat -- the sacred day of rest. The faculty and student body were shocked, and some of the faculty felt that the boy should be expelled. However, when the Chafetz Chaim heard the story, he asked that the boy be brought to his home.
At this point, the rabbi interrupted the narrative and said, "I don't know what the Chafetz Chaim said to the boy. I only know that they were together for a few minutes. I would give anything to know what he said to this student, for I am told that the boy never desecrated the Shabbat again. How wonderful it would be if we could relay that message -- whatever it was -- to others, in order to encourage them in their observance of Shabbat." The rabbi then continued with his lecture.
After his talk, the hall emptied of everyone except for one elderly man, who remained in his seat, alone with his thoughts. From the distance, it seemed he was trembling, as if he was either crying or suffering from chills. The rabbi walked over to the elderly man and asked him, "Is anything wrong?"
The man responded, "Where did you hear that story of the cigarette on Shabbat?" He did not look up and was still shaken. "I really don't know," answered the rabbi. "I heard it a while ago and I don't even remember who told it to me." The man looked up at the rabbi and said softly, "I was that boy." He then asked the rabbi to go outside, and as the two walked together, he told the rabbi the following story:
"This incident occurred in the 1920's when the Chafetz Chaim was in his eighties. I was terrified to have to go into his house and face him. But when I did go into his home, I looked around with disbelief at the poverty in which he lived. It was unimaginable to me that a man of his stature would be satisfied to live in such surroundings.
"Suddenly he was in the room where I was waiting. He was remarkably short. At that time I was a teenager and he only came up to my shoulders. He took my hand and clasped it tenderly in both of his. He brought my hand in his own clasped hands up to his face, and when I looked into his soft face, his eyes were closed for a moment.
"When he opened them, they were filled with tears. He then said to me in a hushed voice full of pain and astonishment, 'Shabbat!' And he started to cry. He was still holding both my hands in his, and while he was crying he repeated with astonishment, 'Shabbat, the holy Shabbat!'
"My heart started pounding and I became more frightened than I had been before. Tears streamed down his face and one of them rolled onto my hand. I thought it would bore a hole right through my skin. When I think of that tear today, I can still feel its heat. I can't describe how awful it felt to know that I had made the great tzaddik weep. But in his rebuke -- which consisted only of those few words -- I felt that he was not angry, but rather sad and fearful. He seemed frightened at the consequences of my actions."
The elderly man then caressed the hand that bore the invisible scar of a precious tear. It had become his permanent reminder to observe the "holy Shabbat" for the rest of his life.

Biographical note: Rabbi Israel Meir HaCohen Kagan (1838-1933), popularly known as "the Chafetz Chaim" after the title of one of his many influential books, was one of the most important and beloved rabbinical scholars and leaders of the 20th century. His other works include Mishna Berura, an authoritative, almost universally accepted compendium of Jewish Law, and Shmirat HaLashon, about proper and improper speech.

A master storyteller with hundreds of published stories to his credit, Rabbi Yerachmiel Tilles is co-founder of Ascent of Safed, and managing editor of the Ascent and Kabbalah Online websites.

Lifestyle
Healthy Almond Cookies

With Chocolate Drizzle
By Miriam Szokovski

Everyone has their own definition of healthy, and although these cookies are not low calorie, they are made with natural, whole ingredients, and are infinitely better for us than the typical flour-sugar-shortening kind.

Be warned, this recipe only yields about 12 cookies, so if you want more you'll need to make more than one batch.
For the dough you'll need almond flour, coconut oil, honey, vanilla, salt and baking soda. If you haven't worked with coconut oil before, it is solid when cool and liquid when warm. At about 76°F is where it starts to liquefy. So if your kitchen is hot during the summer, your coconut oil may be liquid all summer, but solid in the winter. In any case, my preferred method for melting is to put the entire jar of coconut oil in a bowl of hot water for several minutes.

Mix all cookie ingredients together with a spoon. If you have time, refrigerate the dough for 10-15 minutes to make it easier to work with, but it's not necessary. I've done it without and they come out delicious both ways.

Grease a cookie sheet and pre-heat the oven to 350°F. Use a tablespoon-sized measuring spoon to scoop up the dough and place it on the pan. Leave space between the cookies to allow for spreading. Use the back of the measuring spoon to press down gently on the cookies, but don't flatten them entirely.
Bake the cookies for 8-10 minutes. Set a timer, sit in the front of the oven, do whatever you have to do but do not forget about them. They burn easily and then you will have wasted time and ingredients (and these are more expensive than traditional baking ingredients).

Take the cookies out of the oven and let them cool. Do not attempt to pick them up while warm—they will break and crumble. You can stick the pan in the freezer for a few minutes to help them cool more quickly. While you're waiting, you can make the chocolate drizzle.
Whisk the cocoa powder and coconut oil together until there are no lumps. Slowly whisk in the maple syrup and you're done. I like to add a tiny pinch of salt to the drizzle, but that's up to you.
Gently transfer the cookies to a sheet of wax paper or parchment paper. Pour the chocolate drizzle into a Ziploc bag and make sure it's well sealed. Cut off one of the corners (just a tiny bit) and squeeze the drizzle over the cookies. The secret to a pretty drizzle is to drizzle past the cookie before coming back in the other direction (see picture).

Stick the cookies into the freezer for a few minutes to help the drizzle set. Store in an airtight container for a day or two, or freeze in a Ziploc bag for later. They actually taste really good frozen, too.

Cookie Ingredients

2 cups almond flour
6 tbsp. coconut oil, melted
2 tbsp. honey
2 tsp. vanilla
¼ tsp. kosher salt
½ tsp. baking soda

Chocolate Drizzle Ingredients

2 tbsp. coconut oil, melted
1 tbsp. cocoa powder
1 tbsp. pure maple syrup

Directions

Mix all cookie ingredients together with a spoon. Refrigerate for 10-15 minutes.
Using a tablespoon-size measuring spoon to scoop the dough. Place cookies an inch or so apart on a greased cookie sheet. Bake on 350°F for 8-10 minutes. Be careful not to over-bake.
Let the cookies cool completely before trying to remove them from the pan. (To speed this up, put the tray into the freezer for a few minutes.)
Place cookies on a sheet of wax or parchment paper, with space between them.
Prepare the chocolate drizzle. Whisk the cocoa powder and melted coconut oil together until there are no lumps. Slowly whisk in the maple syrup. Pour mixture into a small Ziploc bag, cut off one corner and drizzle over cookies. Put cookies in the freezer for a few minutes to set the drizzle.
Store cookies in an airtight container for a day or two, or freeze for later. Cookies taste good frozen.

Yields: 12 cookies

Have you ever made healthier cookies before? Would you try these? What do you look for in a healthy dessert?

Miriam Szokovski is the author of historical novel Exiled Down Under, and a member of the Chabad.org editorial team. She enjoys tinkering with recipes, and teaches cooking classes to young children. Miriam shares her love of cooking, baking and food photography on Chabad.org’s food blog, Cook It Kosher and in the N'shei Chabad Newsletter.

Lifestyle
Two Realities

Photo by Oneinfocus

The world represents two realities:
Below, a reflection which conceals the reality of G-d and that which is above, G-d Himself.
Like a craftsman who trains his hands, we are to habituate our minds that both realities are Him.

Learn more about this photo

Michoel is an innovative educator, outdoor enthusiast and avid photographer. Michoel grew up in Australia where he used the 'Outback' to refine his photography skills. He pursued studies at Mayanot in Israel, the Rabbinical College of America in New Jersey and Rabbinical studies at Kollel Menachem in Brooklyn NY. He lives in Brooklyn with his wife, Sarah, and daughter. Read more about his organization at Oneinfocus.org.

___________________________________

Missionary Renegade

Wednesday, October 29, 2014

Chabad Magazine "Does Jewish Law Allow a Nurse to Treat an Ebola Patient?" for Tuesday, Cheshvan 4, 5775 · October 28, 2014

Women
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Q&A: Meet Rabbi Avraham Meyer Zajac: Master Talmud Teacher

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Mezuzah Torn Down in Hate Crime, 30 More Go Up

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Jewish News
New Chabad Center to Sit in South Orlando ‘Hot Spot’

‘Busy and Upscale’

Story
Tomorrow May Be Too Late

Far Away

Close By

At Home

Postscript

Story
A Tzaddik’s Tear

Lifestyle
Healthy Almond Cookies

Cookie Ingredients

Chocolate Drizzle Ingredients

Directions

Lifestyle
Two Realities

No comments:

Post a Comment

Wednesday, October 29, 2014

Chabad Magazine "Does Jewish Law Allow a Nurse to Treat an Ebola Patient?" for Tuesday, Cheshvan 4, 5775 · October 28, 2014

Women Darkness, Anxiety and the Unknown

Women The Tante Triumvirate

Jewish News Q&A: Meet Rabbi Avraham Meyer Zajac: Master Talmud Teacher

Jewish News At Home in Hoboken

From Kids to Seniors

Always Welcome, Always Available

Jewish News Mezuzah Torn Down in Hate Crime, 30 More Go Up

‘Unbelievable Leadership Qualities’

Jewish News New Chabad Center to Sit in South Orlando ‘Hot Spot’

‘Busy and Upscale’

Story Tomorrow May Be Too Late

Far Away

Close By

At Home

Postscript

Story A Tzaddik’s Tear

Lifestyle Healthy Almond Cookies

Cookie Ingredients

Chocolate Drizzle Ingredients

Directions

Lifestyle Two Realities

No comments:

Post a Comment

Women
Darkness, Anxiety and the Unknown

Women
The Tante Triumvirate

Jewish News
Q&A: Meet Rabbi Avraham Meyer Zajac: Master Talmud Teacher

Jewish News
At Home in Hoboken

Jewish News
Mezuzah Torn Down in Hate Crime, 30 More Go Up

Jewish News
New Chabad Center to Sit in South Orlando ‘Hot Spot’

Story
Tomorrow May Be Too Late

Story
A Tzaddik’s Tear

Lifestyle
Healthy Almond Cookies

Lifestyle
Two Realities