Editor's Note:
Dear Friend,
Taking a walk with my toddler is a great lesson in appreciating the small things in life.
What is usually a 10-minute walk to the local kosher grocery store can take more than 40 minutes with him. Everything catches his attention: birds and squirrels, flowers and plants, rocks and pebbles, cars and motorcycles, people and pets, stoops and steps.
Time is not an issue for him as he savors and explores whatever object catches his attention with intense curiosity until he moves on to the next item. Then the wonder starts all over again.
The founder of Chassidism Rabbi Israel Baal Shem Tov, whose yahrtzeit we observe on Shavuot, often said that “everything one sees or hears is to be taken as a lesson in how to better serve the Creator.”
From my toddler I learn (among other things) to pay closer attention to the beautiful world G‑d created, to truly appreciate it and be grateful for it and all it contains. Thanks to him, I rediscover meaning in many aspects of daily life, and hopefully, become a better person.
Chani Benjaminson
on behalf of the Chabad.org Editorial Team
This Week's Features:
Printable Magazine
More Than They Knew
The Divine breathes within the words of the sages.
Even those things they wrote but they themselves did not grasp, even that can be found in the nuances of their sayings and writings.
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Self-Made Holiness
The Torah discusses two categories of holy animals which must be offered in the Temple by Menachem Feldman
Many people expect inspiration to come from above. “If G‑d really wanted me to follow the Torah,” they argue, “He would plant within my heart a burning desire to do so.” “If G‑d felt it important that I dedicate time to Torah study,” they insist, “then I would be naturally drawn to the wisdom of the Torah.” In effect they are saying, “If G‑d wanted me to be holy, He would have made me holy from the womb, without any effort necessary on my part.” When they think about holiness, they think of G‑d descending on Mount Sinai to inspire a people who could not inspire themselves.
True, this is one form of holiness. The highest form of holiness, however, is the one that is manmade.
At the culmination of the book of Leviticus, the Torah discusses two categories of holy animals which must be offered in the Temple: the first is thebechor,1 the firstborn animal; and the second, the last offering of the book of Leviticus, is the maaser,2 the tithe.
These two offerings represent the two forms of holiness. The first is imparted by G‑d; the second is manmade.
The bechor is sacred by virtue of being born first. No human intervention is necessary. As Maimonides explains:
It is a mitzvah to sanctify a firstborn kosher animal and say: “Behold, this is holy,” as the verse states: “Every firstborn shall you sanctify unto the L‑rd your G‑d.” Even if the owner did not sanctify it, it is sanctified as a matter of course. It is sanctified upon its emergence from the womb.3
The last offering of the book, the maaser, is not sacred until the Jew sanctifies it himself. As described by Maimonides:
He should gather all of the lambs or all of the calves born that year in a corral. He then makes a small entrance, so that two cannot emerge at the same time. He positions their mothers outside the corral, and they bleat, so that the lambs will hear their voices and leave the corral to meet them. This is necessary, as implied by the verse which states, “All that passes beneath the staff,” i.e., they must pass on their own initiative; one should not remove them by hand.
As they leave the corral one by one, the owner begins to count them with a staff: one, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine. The tenth animal that departs, whether male or female, whether unblemished or blemished, should be marked with red paint, and the owner should say: “This is the tithe.”4
Of all the Temple offerings described in Leviticus, the book culminates with the maaser offering—specifically because its holiness is dependent on man. The person does not expect G‑d to inspire him. The person is required to take steps to foster holiness. He cannot rely on heaven to send him a firstborn, an already-assembled dose of inspiration. Here he must gather his lambs and calves, he must count, he must apply the red paint. It’s in his hands. By doing so, he realizes that the ultimate holiness is created only when he is the one generating the inspiration.
Don’t wait for the inspiration to come from above and fill your heart with a passion for G‑d. Even if you are not in the mood, count your sheep and give one to G‑d: take some time out of your day and sanctify it, use it to pray, to study Torah, to do a mitzvah. It may not be as dramatic as the holiness that comes from above, but it is what G‑d finds most meaningful.5
FOOTNOTES
1.Leviticus 27:26.
2.Leviticus 27:32.
3.Mishneh Torah, Hil. Bechorot 1:4.
4.Ibid. 7:1.
5.Based on the teachings of the Rebbe, Likkutei Sichot, vol. 17, pp. 332ff.
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YOUR QUESTIONS
Why Is Kiddush Said Over Wine?
A series of fascinating reasons culled from more than 2 millennia of Jewish scholarship. by Yehuda Shurpin
First let’s talk a bit about kiddush. In the Ten Commandments, the Torahcommands us to “remember (zachor) the Sabbath day to sanctify it.”1 This teaches us that we are to verbally declare the Shabbat holy, which we do when we make kiddush. The term zachor is associated with wine in numerous places in Scripture.2 Thus, the sages instituted that this mitzvah be done over wine. (This is also the reason for the havdalah wine.)3 More Than They Knew
The Divine breathes within the words of the sages.
Even those things they wrote but they themselves did not grasp, even that can be found in the nuances of their sayings and writings.
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Self-Made Holiness
The Torah discusses two categories of holy animals which must be offered in the Temple by Menachem Feldman
Many people expect inspiration to come from above. “If G‑d really wanted me to follow the Torah,” they argue, “He would plant within my heart a burning desire to do so.” “If G‑d felt it important that I dedicate time to Torah study,” they insist, “then I would be naturally drawn to the wisdom of the Torah.” In effect they are saying, “If G‑d wanted me to be holy, He would have made me holy from the womb, without any effort necessary on my part.” When they think about holiness, they think of G‑d descending on Mount Sinai to inspire a people who could not inspire themselves.True, this is one form of holiness. The highest form of holiness, however, is the one that is manmade.
At the culmination of the book of Leviticus, the Torah discusses two categories of holy animals which must be offered in the Temple: the first is thebechor,1 the firstborn animal; and the second, the last offering of the book of Leviticus, is the maaser,2 the tithe.
These two offerings represent the two forms of holiness. The first is imparted by G‑d; the second is manmade.
The bechor is sacred by virtue of being born first. No human intervention is necessary. As Maimonides explains:
It is a mitzvah to sanctify a firstborn kosher animal and say: “Behold, this is holy,” as the verse states: “Every firstborn shall you sanctify unto the L‑rd your G‑d.” Even if the owner did not sanctify it, it is sanctified as a matter of course. It is sanctified upon its emergence from the womb.3
The last offering of the book, the maaser, is not sacred until the Jew sanctifies it himself. As described by Maimonides:
He should gather all of the lambs or all of the calves born that year in a corral. He then makes a small entrance, so that two cannot emerge at the same time. He positions their mothers outside the corral, and they bleat, so that the lambs will hear their voices and leave the corral to meet them. This is necessary, as implied by the verse which states, “All that passes beneath the staff,” i.e., they must pass on their own initiative; one should not remove them by hand.
As they leave the corral one by one, the owner begins to count them with a staff: one, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine. The tenth animal that departs, whether male or female, whether unblemished or blemished, should be marked with red paint, and the owner should say: “This is the tithe.”4
Of all the Temple offerings described in Leviticus, the book culminates with the maaser offering—specifically because its holiness is dependent on man. The person does not expect G‑d to inspire him. The person is required to take steps to foster holiness. He cannot rely on heaven to send him a firstborn, an already-assembled dose of inspiration. Here he must gather his lambs and calves, he must count, he must apply the red paint. It’s in his hands. By doing so, he realizes that the ultimate holiness is created only when he is the one generating the inspiration.
Don’t wait for the inspiration to come from above and fill your heart with a passion for G‑d. Even if you are not in the mood, count your sheep and give one to G‑d: take some time out of your day and sanctify it, use it to pray, to study Torah, to do a mitzvah. It may not be as dramatic as the holiness that comes from above, but it is what G‑d finds most meaningful.5
FOOTNOTES
1.Leviticus 27:26.
2.Leviticus 27:32.
3.Mishneh Torah, Hil. Bechorot 1:4.
4.Ibid. 7:1.
5.Based on the teachings of the Rebbe, Likkutei Sichot, vol. 17, pp. 332ff.
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YOUR QUESTIONS
Why Is Kiddush Said Over Wine?
A series of fascinating reasons culled from more than 2 millennia of Jewish scholarship. by Yehuda Shurpin
The wine—which is a celebratory beverage—also serves to show that the meal we are about to eat isn’t just another regular meal, but a special, joyous and festive one. (This is the main reason for using wine at the daytimekiddush.)4
Additionally, the rabbis throughout the ages have offered further reasons whykiddush is recited specifically on wine.
Wine Brings Joy
Wine has a special power to gladden the hearts of men. And when it is used for a holy purpose, such as to celebrate Shabbat, it also “gladdens G‑d.”5
Wedding Celebration
The Zohar describes Shabbat as the “bride” of the Jewish people. Just as the betrothal of a bride (called kiddushin, “sanctification”) is recited over wine, so is kiddush recited over wine.
All blessings flow from the Torah, which is compared to wine. When we sanctify and bless this holy day, it is through the power of this “wine.” This is alluded to in the verse, “We will recall Your love more fragrant than wine [מיין]; they have loved You sincerely.”6 The Hebrew word for “more than wine” can also be translated as “from wine,” i.e., G‑d’s love flows from the power of wine—Torah.7
Rectifying the Forbidden Fruit
The sages tell us that Adam and Eve ate of the forbidden fruit late on Friday afternoon.8 Due to the honor of the Sabbath, they were granted a reprieve of judgement until after Shabbat.9
According to many opinions, the forbidden fruit was a grape.10 We rectify the sin when we make a blessing and use grape wine for a mitzvah around the same time that the sin took place. (Technically, one can accept Shabbat late Friday afternoon.)11
The Numerical Value
The Hebrew word for wine (יין) has the numerical value of 70 (10+10+50=70). There are 35 words12 in the verses that we chant before the kiddush,13 and another 35 words in the actual kiddush blessing. Put them together, and you get 70 (35+35=70).14
Now, if you take out your siddur and count, you may discover that there are 42 words in the kiddush blessing. Some people do not say the seven words that translate as “for You have chosen us and sanctified us from among all the nations.” Others, including Chabad, do say those words. So how do we get 35? By not counting the opening words Baruch atah . . . asher, since they are a general introduction to many blessings, and not unique to kiddush. Rather, the word count begins from the word kideshanu, where we begin to discuss the theme of kiddush: sanctification.15
The Wine of Moshiach
We celebrate the Sabbath as a testimony to G‑d having created the world in six days and “rested” on the seventh. At that time, He set aside special wine to be used at the celebratory meal when the Moshiach comes.16 Just as the six-day workweek culminates in Shabbat, so will the six millennia of our work to make the world a home for G‑d culminate in the messianic era—“the day that is wholly Shabbat and tranquility, for life everlasting.”17 May it be speedily in our days!
FOOTNOTES
1.Exodus 20:8.
2.See Hosea 14:8 and Song of Songs 1:4.
3.Talmud, Pesachim 106a.
4.See Shulchan Aruch ha-Rav, Orach Chaim 289:2.
5.Judges 9:13.
6.Song of Songs 1:2.
7.See Zohar III:95a.
8.Talmud, Sanhedrin 38b.
9.Bereishit Rabbah 11:2.
10.See On the Identity of the Tree of Knowledge.
11.See The Proper Time for Lighting.
12.The standard formula for kiddush also tacks on an additional two words, יום הששי, from the end of chapter 1. A number of reasons are given: a) they correspond to the words zachor andshamor, which enjoin us to remember the Shabbat and keep it holy; b) with these two words, the initials of the first four words of kiddush form the Tetragrammaton (יום הששי ויכלו השמים); c) they boost the total word count up to 72, corresponding to what is called in Kabbalah Shem Ab, a way of spelling out the four letters of G‑d’s name with the numerical value of 72.
13.Genesis 2:1–3.
14.See Zohar II:207b; Tikkunei Zohar, tikun24 and 47.
15.See Shaar ha-Kollel 18:4. See also Reshimot, no. 96.
16.Talmud, Berachot 34b.
17.Talmud, Berachot 57b; Nachmanides, commentary to Genesis 1.
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Why Are Jews So Ethnocentric?
The problem with rabbis is you always talk about the Jewish future, Jewish continuity, Jews marrying Jews. What about the rest of humanity? by Aron Moss
The problem with rabbis like you is your narrow view of the world. You always talk about the Jewish future, Jewish continuity, Jews marrying Jews, having Jewish children. What about the rest of humanity? Why do we have to divide between people? Can’t we speak of humans rather than Jews?
Answer:
You have a good point. Maybe I should broaden my perspective and be concerned about more global issues, and not so preoccupied with Jewish particularism. So if you don’t mind, I would like to hear your point of view on one such issue: the hairy-nosed wombat.
I have been approached by an organization that is dedicated to saving endangered species. They are campaigning to save the hairy-nosed wombat of northern Queensland, Australia, which is on the verge of extinction. They say that if we don’t do something soon, the wombats will be gone forever.
Do you think this is a good cause? I could write about it in my weekly article, but am not sure if it is worthy of promotion. This is not a Jewish issue. Should it really bother me if there are no more hairy-nosed wombats?
Reply:
Now you’re talking. I would love to see a rabbi promote conservation and eco-awareness. And by the way, it is a Jewish issue! If the hairy-nosed wombat is lost, we all lose. Every species is an integral part of the whole ecosystem. I would much rather you wrote about something like that than the usual myopic Jewish stuff . . .
Response:
I have no doubt that the hairy-nosed wombat makes an important contribution to the world—otherwise G‑d would not have created it. But I happen to think that the Jewish people are at least as worthy of preservation as the hairy-nosed wombat.
While the contribution wombats make to the world may not be obvious, the Jewish contribution is. From Moses to Maimonides, as well as from Philo to Freud to Feynman, Jews as individuals—and as a community—have given much to the world, and I don’t think we have run out of ideas. I think we have more to give.
This is not to put down any other nation and their achievements. Just as the attempt to save the hairy-nosed wombat is not insulting to any other animal, so too the desire to continue the Jewish legacy of four thousand years in no way belittles the gifts of other people.
My work is to try to keep Jewish souls Jewish, because I believe Judaism is an idea that is yet to have its time, and you can’t have Judaism without Jews. So I will continue to try to preserve Jews, whether or not they are hairy-nosed.
Please see Isn’t It Racist To Believe That Jews Are Special? and Why Be Jewish?
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PARSHAH
How Are We to View Jews By Choice?
Are converts looked down upon in Judaism? by Yossy Goldman
The simple answer is that the classic, age-old definition of a Jew has always been “one born of a Jewish mother, or one who has converted to Judaism according to halachah (Torah law).” So, provided the conversion process was supervised and performed by a valid, authentic rabbinic body, a convert is just as Jewish as any born Jew. Those who would look down upon converts should remember that some of our greatest Torah sages were descended from converts, including the legendary Rabbi Akiva.
Furthermore, the Midrash contends that a genuine convert is more precious inG‑d’s eyes than one who was born Jewish. Why? Because one born of a Jewish mother had no choice in the matter. If your mother is Jewish, you are Jewish. Period. You cannot surrender your birthright. Like it or not, it is a biological and spiritual fact of life. You can attempt to convert out of the Jewish faith, but Judaism does not recognize such artificial alterations. A Jew is a Jew is a Jew. If you were born a Jew, you will die a Jew.
But a convert did not have to become Jewish. No one forced him or her into it. If anything, those electing to join the Jewish faith are aware of something called anti-Semitism. Do they need it in their lives? Are they suicidal, or just plain stupid? Why would anyone in their right mind go looking for tzoris?! Says the Midrash: one who does make that conscious, deliberate choice to embrace the G‑d of Abraham despite the unique unpopularity of the children of Abraham is someone worthy of G‑d’s special love. A Jew by choice is a Jew indeed.
There remains a difficult passage in the Talmud (Yevamot 47b) that begs some elucidation. “Converts are as difficult for Israel as a blight!” Not a very flattering depiction. A simple explanation might be that when converts are insincere, and they are not really committed to living a full Jewish life—perhaps they converted for ulterior motives, like to marry a Jew—then their failure to observe the commandments brings disrepute to Judaism, and may have a negative ripple effect on other Jews.
But there is also an alternative interpretation. Some understand the suggestion that converts are a blight upon Israel to mean that they give born Jews a bad name. Why? Because all too often, converts are more zealous than any other Jews in their commitment to the faith. Have we not seen converts who are more observant and more passionate about Judaism than most born Jews? “A blight upon Israel” would then mean that their deeper commitment and zealousness puts us to shame.
This week we read the Tochachah—the Rebuke. A series of dire warnings to the Jewish people not to stray from G‑d’s ways, and of the curses that will befall us if we should, the Rebuke is always read shortly before Shavuot, the holiday of the giving of the Torah. That moment at the mountain, when we stood at Sinai, experienced the great Revelation and received the Ten Commandments, was the moment when we became constitutionally enfranchised as a people. Shavuot marks the day when we were transformed from a family—children of Abraham, Isaac, Jacob, Sarah, Rebecca, Racheland Leah—to a nation. That is the day we all converted to Judaism. We all became Jews at Sinai.
So, every year at this time we read the sobering Rebuke to prepare us for the reliving of the historic event when we too became “converts,” so that we should enter into our covenant with G‑d sincerely and genuinely, in reverence and in awe.
May all of us, those born or those who have become, be true Jews who will be true to our faith, our Torah and our tradition. May we accept the Torah anew with the passion and zeal of one who has just made that momentous choice, the choice to become a Jew.
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Effort That Has Value
Torah study is the only instance where labor without achievement is rewarded. by Lazer Gurkow
“If you will walk in My statutes . . . ,” says G‑d in the beginning of the portion of Bechukotai, “I will give your rains in their time, the land will yield its produce, and the tree of the field will give forth its fruit.”
Rashi explains that the “walking in G‑d’s statutes” means to labor in Torah.1
Interestingly, we are rewarded for laboring over the Torah. In fact, this is the only instance where labor without achievement is rewarded. In all other instances, mere labor is insufficient; one must actually achieve the objective to be rewarded. But in Torah study, the labor itself is the objective.2
There are two primary reasons to study Torah. The first is simply to know the law and understand its precepts. The second is to be suffused with Divine wisdom. When our objective is the former, we must study until we understand. When our objective is the latter, we must study until we labor.
In the days before the Talmud was recorded, Torah students would review their studies until they had memorized it. Common practice was to review each point of law 100 times. Yet the diligent students would force themselves to review it one more time, for a total of 101. They cherished that last repetition even more than they did the entire set of 100.
When you are accustomed to a standard, no matter how high it is, it becomes your norm. Exceeding that standard, breaking your norm, even by a little, is excruciating. For example, if you are accustomed to running 10 miles, you know that running even one extra mile is more difficult than all the 10 miles combined. But that one mile pushes your limits and expands your willpower.
For the Torah students, the last repetition constituted labor over the Torah. To labor means to push yourself beyond your norm. If you want to be suffused with Divine wisdom, you need to labor. You need to reach beyond yourself and transcend your highest point. Only then are you positioned to reach for the Almighty.3
Finding Transcendence
It is interesting that the Hebrew term for creation ex nihilo is yesh mei-ayin, literally, “something from nothing.” The term “from nothing” refers to the nothingness that existed before creation. But let us be clear about what we mean with the term “nothingness.” Before creation there wasn’t nothingness, there was G‑d. Yet we call it nothingness because to be suffused with the transcendence of Divinity, we must shed our perception of self and come to sense our own nothingness.
To reach this state of mind, we need to reach beyond ourselves. We must recognize our self-imposed limitations and strive to exceed them. We must set ourselves aside and yearn for transcendence. And here comes the fabulous insight. The numeric value of the Hebrew word mei-ayin, which means “from nothing,” is 101—the number of times the Torah students reviewed their studies to truly labor over the Torah.
By pushing beyond our norms and exceeding our own limitations, we encounter our own nothingness and are suffused with the transcendence of the Divine.4
Until You Walk
“If you will walk in My statutes” refers to the concept of laboring over the Torah. But what does walking have to do with Torah study?
The prophet Zechariah declared that whereas angels are capable only of “standing,” souls are capable of “walking.”5 In other words, angels are incapable of exceeding their limitations. They are holy creatures with vast spiritual capabilities, but they can neither do less nor more than their G‑d-given capacity.
Souls are different. We start off on a lower rung than angels, but if we push ourselves, we can journey higher than them. We can keep walking beyond our limitations and exceed even ourselves. We can keep studying the Torah and laboring over it until we reach our own state of nothingness. Thus we are “walkers” compared to angels, who are stationary.6
When we study in this transcendental way, we don’t just labor over Torah, webecome the Torah. We awaken with thoughts of Torah and go to bed with thoughts of Torah, and when we sit idly, thoughts of Torah rise unbidden to our minds. King David once said that no matter where he set out to go in the morning, his feet would carry him to the study hall. When I was growing up, there was a particular rabbi in our community whose wife asked him to take out the garbage. Forgetting himself halfway between his home and the curb, his feet carried him to the synagogue, garbage bag in hand . . .
Those who labor over the Torah literally “walk in [Divine] statutes.”7
Moshiach
The ultimate experience of suffusion with the Divine will occur in the messianic age. This will be a time when all veils will be removed and the glory of the Divine will radiate. This too is alluded to in our enigmatic verse, “If you will walk in My statutes.”
The verse begins with the Hebrew word im, which is spelled with the lettersalef and mem. These letters form the acronym of all the redeemers in our national history.8
The redeemers from Egypt were Aaron and Moses. The redeemers from Persia were Esther and Mordechai. The redeemers from our exile will beElijah and Moshiach. The message is that if we desire the messianic era of Divine revelation and inspiration, we must labor over the Torah today until we are suffused with the transcendence of the Divine. And then, Moshiach will come.
May that day come speedily in our times. Amen.
FOOTNOTES
1.Leviticus 26:3 and Rashi ad loc.
2.Chafetz Chayim Al Hatorah ad loc.
3.Tanya, ch. 15.
4.Torah Ohr, Hosafot, Vayakhel 114d.
5.Zechariah 3:7.
6.Tiferet Yonatan, Leviticus 26:3.
7.Kli Yakar ad loc., quoting Vayikra Rabbah 35:1. The Hebrew word for “statutes” is similar to the word for “engraved.” When the Torah becomes engraved in our heart, its patterns become ingrained in our habits.
8.Minchah Belulah. He further quotesPsalms 113:9, “Eim (alef-mem) ha-banim semeichah.” When Eliyahu and Mashiach appear, the children will rejoice.
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Bechukotai In Depth
A condensation of the weekly Torah portion alongside select commentaries culled from the Midrash, Talmud, Chassidic masters, and the broad corpus of Jewish scholarship.
Parshat Bechukotai In-Depth
Leviticus 26:3-27:34
Parshah Summary
“If you walk in My statutes and keep My commandments and do them, I will give your rain in due season, the land shall yield its produce, and the trees of the field shall yield their fruit.”
Thus opens this week’s reading, Bechukotai (“in My statutes”), which goes on to enumerate the earthly blessings that will result when the people of Israel follow G‑d’s commandments:
And so it goes—more than thirty verses filled with every catastrophe imaginable, predicting every calamity destined to befall our people in the course of our history because we “walk casually” with G‑d:
If a person is pledged (i.e., a person declares “I pledge my value to G‑d” or “I pledge this person’s value”), the Torah sets a fixed sum, based on the age and sex of the pledged person and ranging from 3 to 50 shekels, which is seen to represent that pledged person’s monetary “value.” This amount is given to the treasury of the Holy Temple by the one who made the pledge.
If a kosher, unblemished animal is pledged to G‑d, it is brought as an offering in the Holy Temple. “He shall not exchange it nor substitute another for it, be it a good for a bad, or a bad for a good; and if he shall at all exchange beast for beast, then it and its substitute shall both be holy.”
Other objects (such as a nonkosher animal or a house) are given to the Temple treasury to be sold, or else they are redeemed by their pledger for their assessed market value plus 20%.
A pledged field goes to the Temple treasury until the Jubilee year (see above), at which time it goes to thekohen (priest). A person wishing to redeem his pledged field is assessed not according to the field’s market value, but by the Torah’s own criteria: 50 shekel per beit chomer (an area equivalent to slightly less than four acres). This amount is to be deducted in accordance with how many years remain until the Jubilee year (e.g., if only 20 years remain until the Jubilee, than the value per beit chomer is 20 shekels). The 20% addition also applies.
“These are the commandments,” our Parshah concludes and closes the book of Leviticus, “which G‑d commanded to Moses for the children of Israel on Mount Sinai.”
Thus opens this week’s reading, Bechukotai (“in My statutes”), which goes on to enumerate the earthly blessings that will result when the people of Israel follow G‑d’s commandments:
Your threshing shall reach to the vintage, and the vintage shall reach to the sowing time; and you shall eat your bread to the full, and dwell secure in your land.
I will give peace in the land; and you shall lie down, and none shall make you afraid. I will remove evil beasts out of the land, neither shall the sword pass through your land.
You shall chase your enemies, and they shall fall before you by the sword. Five of you shall pursue a hundred, and a hundred of you shall put ten thousand to flight . . .
For I will turn My face to you. I will make you fruitful and multiply you, and establish My covenant with you . . .
I will place My dwelling amongst you; and My soul shall not abhor you. I will walk among you; I will be your G‑d, and you shall be My people.
I am the L‑rd your G‑d who brought you out from the land of Egypt, from being their slaves; I have broken the bars of your yoke, and made you walkupright.
I will give peace in the land; and you shall lie down, and none shall make you afraid. I will remove evil beasts out of the land, neither shall the sword pass through your land.
You shall chase your enemies, and they shall fall before you by the sword. Five of you shall pursue a hundred, and a hundred of you shall put ten thousand to flight . . .
For I will turn My face to you. I will make you fruitful and multiply you, and establish My covenant with you . . .
I will place My dwelling amongst you; and My soul shall not abhor you. I will walk among you; I will be your G‑d, and you shall be My people.
I am the L‑rd your G‑d who brought you out from the land of Egypt, from being their slaves; I have broken the bars of your yoke, and made you walkupright.
Then comes the tochachah (“rebuke” or “punishment”)—a harshly detailed prediction of what will befall the people of Israel when they turn away from G‑d:The Rebuke
But if you will not hearken to Me, and will not do all these commands; if you shall despise My statutes, if your soul shall abhor my laws, so that you will not do all My commandments, and break My covenant,
I also will do this to you; I will appoint over you terror, consumption and fever, that shall consume the eyes, and cause sorrow of heart . . .
I will set My face against you, and you shall be slain before your enemies; they that hate you shall reign over you, and you shall flee when none pursues you . . .
I will make your skies like iron, and your earth like brass. Your strength shall be spent in vain, for your land shall not yield her produce, neither shall the trees of the land yield their fruit . . .
I shall cast your carcasses upon the carcasses of your idols. . . . I shall lay desolate your holyplaces . . .
And you I shall scatter amongst the nations . . .your land shall be desolate, your cities in ruins. . . . Those who remain of you shall pine away in their iniquity in your enemies’ lands . . .
And yet,And you I shall scatter amongst the nations . . .your land shall be desolate, your cities in ruins. . . . Those who remain of you shall pine away in their iniquity in your enemies’ lands . . .
I will remember My covenant with Jacob. Also My covenant with Isaac, also My covenant with Abraham will I remember; and I will remember the land . . .
Despite all, the people of Israel shall forever remain G‑d’s people:
Even when they are in the land of their enemies, I will not cast them away; nor will I ever abhor them, to destroy them and to break My covenant with them; for I am the L‑rd their G‑d.
The second part of Bechukotai legislates the laws oferachin (“values” or “appraisals”)—the manner by which to calculate the values of different types of pledges made to G‑d.Values and Appraisals
If a person is pledged (i.e., a person declares “I pledge my value to G‑d” or “I pledge this person’s value”), the Torah sets a fixed sum, based on the age and sex of the pledged person and ranging from 3 to 50 shekels, which is seen to represent that pledged person’s monetary “value.” This amount is given to the treasury of the Holy Temple by the one who made the pledge.
If a kosher, unblemished animal is pledged to G‑d, it is brought as an offering in the Holy Temple. “He shall not exchange it nor substitute another for it, be it a good for a bad, or a bad for a good; and if he shall at all exchange beast for beast, then it and its substitute shall both be holy.”
Other objects (such as a nonkosher animal or a house) are given to the Temple treasury to be sold, or else they are redeemed by their pledger for their assessed market value plus 20%.
A pledged field goes to the Temple treasury until the Jubilee year (see above), at which time it goes to thekohen (priest). A person wishing to redeem his pledged field is assessed not according to the field’s market value, but by the Torah’s own criteria: 50 shekel per beit chomer (an area equivalent to slightly less than four acres). This amount is to be deducted in accordance with how many years remain until the Jubilee year (e.g., if only 20 years remain until the Jubilee, than the value per beit chomer is 20 shekels). The 20% addition also applies.
“These are the commandments,” our Parshah concludes and closes the book of Leviticus, “which G‑d commanded to Moses for the children of Israel on Mount Sinai.”
From Our Sages
If you walk in My statutes (Leviticus 26:3)The word “if” is to be understood as a plea on the part of G‑d: “If only you would follow My statutes . . .”
(Talmud, Avodah Zarah 5a)
If you walk in My statutes (Leviticus 26:3)
The word chok (“statute” or “decree”), which gives the Parshah of Bechukotai its name, literally means “engraved.”The Torah comes in two forms: written and engraved. On the last day of his life, Moses inscribed the Torah on parchment scrolls. But this written Torah was preceded by an engraved Torah: the divine law was first given to us encapsulated in the Ten Commandments, which were etched by the hand of G‑d in two tablets of stone.
When something is written, the substance of the letters that express it—the ink—remains a separate entity from the substance upon which they have been set—the parchment. On the other hand, letters engraved in stone are forged in it: the words are stone and the stone is words.
By the same token, there is an aspect of Torah that is “inked” on our soul: we understand it, our emotions are roused by it; it becomes our “lifestyle” or even our “personality”; but it remains something additional to ourselves. But there is a dimension of Torah that is chok, engraved in our being. There is a dimension of Torah which expresses a bond with G‑d that is of the very essence of the Jewish soul.
(Rabbi Schneur Zalman of Liadi)
A rabbi once offered the following analogy: “Every Jew is a letter in the Torah. But a letter may, at times, grow somewhat faded. It is our sacred duty to mend these faded letters and make G‑d’s Torah whole again.”Rabbi Yosef Yitzchak of Lubavitch heard this, and objected: “No, the identity of the Jew cannot be compared to erasable ink on parchment. Every Jew is indeed a letter in G‑d’s Torah, but a letter carved in stone. At times, the dust and dirt may accumulate and distort—or even completely conceal—the letter’s true form; but underneath it all, the letter remains whole. We need only sweep away the surface grime, and the letter, in all its perfection and beauty, will come to light.”
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Rabbi Jacob said: There is no reward for the mitzvot in this world . . .
[What is the proof for this?] In connection with the mitzvah of honoring one’s parents it is written, “In order that your days may be prolonged, and that it may go well with you” (Deuteronomy 5:16). In reference to the mitzvah of “dismissal of the nest” (to chase away the mother bird before taking the young) it is written, “That it may be well with you, and that you may prolong your days” (ibid. 22:7). Now, what if a person’s father says to him, “Ascend to the loft and bring me young birds,” and he ascends to the loft, dismisses the mother and takes the young, and on his return falls and is killed—where is this man’s wellbeing, and where is this man’s long days? But “in order that it may be well with you” means on the day that is wholly good; and “in order that thy days may be long,” on the day that is wholly long.
Perhaps such things don’t happen? Rabbi Jacob saw an actual occurrence.
(Talmud, Kiddushin 39b)
Since we know that the reward for the mitzvot, and the good which we shall merit if we keep the way of G‑d written in the Torah, is solely in the life of the world to come . . . and the retribution exacted from the wicked who abandon the ways of righteousness written in the Torah is the cutting off [of the soul] . . . why does it say throughout the Torah, “If you obey, you will receive such-and-such; if you do not obey, it shall happen to you such-and-such”—things that are of the present world, such as plenty and hunger, war and peace, sovereignty and subjugation, inhabitancy of the land and exile, success and failure, and the like?All that is true, and did, and will, come to pass. When we fulfill all the commandments of the Torah, all the good things of this world will come to us; and when we transgress them, the evils mentioned in the Torah will happen to us. Nevertheless, those good things are not the ultimate reward of the mitzvot, nor are those evils the ultimate punishment for transgressing them.
The explanation of the matter is thus: G‑d gave us this Torah; it is a tree of life, and whoever observes all that is written in it and knows it with a complete knowledge merits thereby the life of the world to come. . . . Yet G‑d also promised us in the Torah that if we observe it with joy . . . He will remove from us all things that may prevent us from fulfilling it, such as illness, war, hunger, and the like, and He will bestow upon us all blessings that bolster our hand to observe the Torah, such as abundant food, peace, and much gold and silver, in order that we should not need to preoccupy ourselves all our days with our material needs, but be free to learn the wisdom and observe the commandments by which we shall merit the life of the world to come . . .
(Mishneh Torah, Laws of Repentance 9:1)
Maimonides’ concept of the “reward” for mitzvot in this world has a parallel in Torah law. The law states that farm workers must be allowed to eat of the food they are working with; even an animal may not be “muzzled as it threshes.” This is not payment for their work—their wages they receive later, after their work is done—but a special provision that says that they must be allowed to eat from the produce they are working with.By the same token, we are employed by G‑d to develop and elevate His world through the performing of mitzvot. The actual reward for our work will come later, in the world to come, after our task is completed; but G‑d is also “obligated” to allow us to enjoy the material blessings of this world, which is the object of our toil.
(The Lubavitcher Rebbe)
moreDoubtless, the religions of those times—as do the religions of our times—all promised rewards destined for the soul after its departure from the body, so as to distance the proof of their claims. Because they are not in possession of the truth, they cannot promise an imminent and tangible sign. . . . But our Torah makes promises that can be confirmed in the here and now—something that no other teaching can do.
(Ran)
At times when people do not usually go out, like the eve of Shabbat.
(Talmud; Rashi)
In the days of Moshiach, every species of tree will bear edible fruit.
(Torat Kohanim; Rashi)
There may be food, there may be drink, but if there is no peace, there is nothing.
(Rashi)
That there will not be war goes without saying; the sword will not even pass through your land on the way to another country.
(Torat Kohanim; Rashi)
But is this the right proportion? It should have stated only “and a hundred of you shall pursue two thousand.” But the explanation is: a few who fulfill the commandments of the Torah cannot compare with many who fulfill the commandments of the Torah.
(Torat Kohanim; Rashi)
An animal walks with its face to the earth, for earthiness and materiality is all that it knows. Man walks upright, for man was born to gaze upon and aspire to the heavens.
(Rabbi DovBer of Mezeritch)
There are different opinions among the Kabbalists in regard to the rewards and punishments that the Torah predicts for the observance or non-observance of the mitzvot. Nachmanides is of the opinion that “the rewards that befall a person for the doing of a mitzvah, or the punishments that come because of a transgression, come about only by supra-natural means. Were a person to be left to his nature and natural fate, the righteousness of his deeds would not give anything to him nor take anything from him. Rather, the Torah’s rewards and punishments in this world are all miracles. They come hidden, for the one who observes them thinks them to have occurred by the normal conduct of the world; but they are in truth divinely ordained rewards and punishments to the person.”
Other Kabbalists, however, maintain that this is a natural process. In the words of Shaloh: “The supernal worlds respond to the actions of the lower world, and from there the blessing spreads to those who caused it. To one who understands this truth, it is not a miracle, but the nature of the avodah(man’s life’s work to serve G‑d).” In other words, punishment for wrongdoing is no more G‑d’s “revenge” than falling to the ground is divine retribution for jumping out the window. Just as the Creator established certain laws of cause and effect that define the natural behavior of the physical universe, so too did He establish a spiritual-moral “nature,” by which doing good results in a good and fulfilling life, and doing evil results in negative and strifeful experiences.
A third approach sees the suffering associated with sin as the byproduct of G‑d’s rehabilitation of the iniquitous soul. The analogy is the removal of an infective splinter from a person’s body: the pain that is experienced is not a “punishment” as such for the person’s carelessness, but an inevitable part of the healing process itself. The fact that a foreign body has become embedded in living flesh and has caused its decay makes its removal a painful experience. By the same token, when something alien to the soul’s bond with G‑d has become embedded within it, the extraction of this alien body, and the healing of the bond, is experienced as painful to both body and soul.
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If you will not hearken to Me, and walk casually with Me, I too will act casually with you . . . (26:28)
All sins derive from the sin of insignificance: when a person ceases to be sensitive to the paramount importance which G‑d attaches to his life and deeds. “I don’t really matter” is not humility—it is the ultimate arrogance. It really means: “I can do what I want.”The most terrible of punishments is for G‑d to indulge the sinner this vanity. For G‑d to say: “All right, have it your way; what happens to you is of no significance”—for G‑d to act toward him as if He really does not care what happens to him.
(The Chassidic Masters)
moreWhen a father punishes his child, the suffering he inflicts on himself is greater than anything experienced by the child. So it is with G‑d: His pain is greater than our pain.
(Rabbi Israel Baal Shem Tov)
It was told of Elijah the Righteous that while searching for those who were languishing with hunger in Jerusalem, he once found a child faint with hunger lying upon a dungheap.
“Of what family are you?” he asked him. “I belong to this-and-this family,” the child replied. He asked: “Are any of that family left?” and he answered, “None, excepting myself.”
Thereupon he asked: “If I teach you something by which you will live, will you learn?” He replied, “Yes.” “Then,” said he, “recite every day: “Hear O Israel, the L‑rd is our G‑d, the L‑rd is one.” But the child retorted: “Be silent, for one must not make mention of the name of G‑d”—for so his father and mother had taught him—and straightaway he brought forth an idol from his bosom, embracing and kissing it, until his stomach burst, his idol fell to the earth, and he upon it, thus fulfilling the verse, “I shall cast your carcasses upon the carcasses of your idols.”
(Talmud, Sanhedrin 63b)
Even in their desolation, they retain their holiness.
(Talmud, Megillah 28a)
This is actually a blessing for Israel—that their enemies will derive no satisfaction from the land, for it shall remain desolate as long as the people of Israel are exiled from it.
(Rashi)
G‑d did a kindness to the people of Israel, that He scattered them amongst the nations. For if they were concentrated in one place, the heathens would make war on them; but since they are dispersed, they cannot be destroyed.
(Talmud, Pesachim 87b; Midrash Lekach Tov)
And you I shall scatter amongst the nations (26:33)
The people of Israel were exiled among the nations only in order that converts should be added to them.
(Talmud, ibid.)
The “converts” that the Talmud speaks of are the “sparks of holiness” contained within the material resources of the world, which are redeemed and elevated when we use these resources in our service of G‑d.
(The Chassidic Masters)
Rabbi Shimon bar Yochai said: Come and see how beloved are Israel in the sight of G‑d, in that to every place to which they were exiled the Shechinah (Divine Presence) went with them. They were exiled to Egypt and the Shechinah was with them, as it says, “Did I reveal myself unto the house of your father when they were in Egypt” (I Samuel 2:27). They were exiled to Babylon and the Shechinah was with them, as it says, “For your sake I was sent to Babylon” (Isaiah 43:14). And when they will be redeemed in the future, the Shechinah will be with them, as it says, “Then the L‑rd your G‑d will return with your captivity” (Deuteronomy 30:3)
(Talmud, Megillah 29a)
Rabbi Isaac ben Samuel says in the name of Rav: The night has three watches, and at each watch the Holy One, blessed be He, sits and roars like a lion and says: Woe to the children on account of whose sins I destroyed My house and burnt My Temple and exiled them among the nations of the world . . . Woe to the father who has banished his children, and woe to the children who have been banished from the table of their father!
(Talmud, Berachot 3a)
Every person was born to a mission in life that is distinctly, uniquely and exclusively their own. No one—not even the greatest of souls—can take his or her place. No person who ever lived or who ever will live can fulfill that particular aspect of G‑d’s purpose in creation in his stead.
(The Lubavitcher Rebbe)
This point is illustrated by a story told by the previous Lubavitcher Rebbe, Rabbi Yosef Yitzchak Schneersohn:A wealthy businessman and his coachman arrived in a city one Friday afternoon. After the rich man was settled at the best hotel in town, the coachman went off to his humble lodgings.
Both washed and dressed for Shabbat, and then set out for the synagogue for the evening prayers. On his way to shul, the businessman came across a wagon which had swerved off the road and was stuck in a ditch. Rushing to help a fellow in need, he climbed down into the ditch and began pushing and pulling at the wagon together with its hapless driver. But for all his good intentions, the businessman was hopelessly out of his depth. After struggling for an hour in the knee-deep mud, he succeeded only in ruining his best suit of Shabbat clothes and getting the wagon even more hopelessly embedded in the mud. Finally, he dragged his bruised and aching body to the synagogue, arriving a scant minute before the start of Shabbat.
Meanwhile, the coachman arrived early to the synagogue and sat down to recite a few chapters of Psalms. At the synagogue he found a group of wandering paupers, and being blessed with a most generous nature, invited them all to share his meal. When the synagogue sexton approached the paupers to arrange meal placements at the town’s householders, as is customary in Jewish communities, he received the same reply from them all: “Thank you, but I have already been invited for the Shabbat meal.”
Unfortunately, however, the coachman’s means were unequal to his generous heart, and his dozen guests left his table with but a shadow of a meal in their hungry stomachs.
Thus the coachman, with his twenty years of experience in extracting wagons from mudholes, took it upon himself to feed a small army, while the wealthy businessman, whose Shabbat meal leftovers could easily have fed every hungry man within a ten-mile radius, floundered about in a ditch.
“Every soul,” said Rabbi Yosef Yitzchak in conclusion, “is entrusted with a mission unique to her alone, and is granted the specific aptitudes, talents and resources necessary to excel in her ordained role. One most take care not to become one of those ‘lost souls’ who wander through life trying their hand at every field of endeavor except for what is truly and inherently their own.”
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STORY
Miracle in a Bucket of Water
“Rebbe,” she sobbed, “you are my last hope! My husband left me years ago, and I desperately want to move on with my life. Tell me, oh, tell me. Where shall I turn?” by Menachem Posner
That was the worst part of it all. Without a divorce, she could not remarry. And so she was “chained” to the man who had betrayed her.Without a divorce, she could not remarry
Yes, she tried looking for him, sending letters to rabbis in communities all over Poland. She even tried consulting the greatest Talmudic scholars, hoping for a “loophole” that would allow her to remarry. But nothing panned out. She had almost resigned herself to the fact that she would live alone for the rest of her life.
As a last resort, she and her brother—her faithful brother, who had supported her even when her friends abandoned her—traveled to the city of Kozhnitz. There lived the great rebbe, Rabbi Yisrael (1737–1814), who was known far and wide as a wonder-worker.
“Rebbe,” she sobbed, “you are my last hope! My husband left me years ago, and I desperately want to move on with my life. Tell me, O tell me. Where shall I turn?”
The rebbe listened intently, his large eyes mirroring the raw pain and agony of her words. Then, turning to his assistant, he asked that a pail of water be brought into his study.
“Look into the pail,” said the rebbe to the woman, “and tell me what you see.”
“I see a large city,” said the incredulous woman. “I can see houses, streets, shops . . .”
“Now look for the marketplace. Can you make it out?” prodded the rebbe.
“Yes, yes,” she replied, “I can see the marketplace. It’s lined with shops on either side.”
“Now look into the windows of the shops, and tell me what you see.”
“Rebbe! I see my husband,” she replied excitedly. “He’s aged a bit, but I would recognize him anywhere. He is sitting around a table with a group of workers, and they are all sewing. He’s putting the finishing touches on an ornate sleeve right now. I’ve seen him do this dozens of times. You know he was a tailor, my husband . . .”
“Good,” said the rebbe. “Now take your hand and grab the sleeve from him.”
As if in a trance, she took her hand and plunged it into the cold water, and withdrew it holding the sleeve—still warm from the iron!
“Good,” said the rebbe. “I want you to hold on to that sleeve. With G‑d’s help, you will get a divorce from your husband.”
“Rebbe,” I want you to hold onto that sleevesaid the brother and sister, “please instruct us. Where should we go next?”
“You can go wherever you’d like,” was the rebbe’s cryptic reply.
“But how can we possibly hire a coachman if we don’t even know where we wish to travel?” they asked. “Please guide us, Rebbe.”
“Go in peace,” said the holy man of Kozhnitz. “The good and merciful G‑d will prepare everything for you.”
Rabbi Yisrael of Kozhnitz (courtesy of the National Library of Israel)
They stumbled out of the rebbe’s humble home, and there stood a gentile coachman next to a coach that was harnessed to two fine steeds.
“Can you take us?” they asked the man.
“Yes, get in,” he replied without the usual discussion about destinations and fares.
Within minutes they found themselves in a vast and dark forest. They could scarcely see the path, but they had no fear. Clutching the sleeve, the woman had faith in G‑d and His messengers.
Suddenly, the two of them found themselves tumbling on the hard ground. “We must have fallen asleep,” they said to one another, “and the coachman must have dumped us out of his coach and ridden off.”
They stumbled through the forest until they came to the edge of a large city. “This is the city I saw in the bucket,” the woman said hopefully to her brother. “Thank G‑d, the rebbe’s words are proving to be true. Let’s walk through the city until we find the marketplace I saw.”
Sure enough, they soon saw the marketplace. “My dear brother,” she said, “let’s quickly go to the rabbi of this town and ask him how we should best approach this matter. After all, my husband can easily deny having ever been married to me, despite the miracles that have brought us here.”
They made their way to the rabbi’s home and told him the chain of events that brought them to his city, even showing him the sleeve that they had brought with them.
“Thank G‑d,” said the rabbi, “who has not abandoned our generation, and has placed His holy spirit upon the great sage of Kozhnitz.
“I know your “I know your husband well,” said the rabbihusband well. He has established himself in our city. He has a wife and children here, and is regarded as an upstanding member of the community. But fear not. Everything will turn out okay; just hold on to that sleeve.”
The rabbi then told the brother and sister to make themselves comfortable in the small alcove next to his study, and immediately summoned the tailor.
“Rabbi,” said the tailor quizzically, “is there something you need done? Does your clothing need repair?”
“I just have some questions for you,” answered the rabbi. “Do you have a wife?”
“A wife? Of course I do. Everyone knows that I am married and have a family.”
“No, were you once married before you came here and started your family?”
“Rabbi,” said he with a twinge of nervousness, “I was never married before. I came here free as a bird.”
“Tell me,” said the rabbi, “what were you sewing today?”
“Funny you should ask,” he replied, relieved that the conversation had shifted to a less touchy subject. “It was the strangest thing. I was sitting at the table working with my fellow craftsmen. I was holding the sleeve of a cloak I was making for a nobleman.
“All of a sudden,” said the tailor, “the sleeve flew right out of my hands. We all watched in shock as it flew out of the room, as if it were a kite in the hands of a child. We looked everywhere for that sleeve—I had invested hours of work into it—but it was gone. It was like a miracle had happened.”
“And what would you give me if I were to give you back your sleeve?” asked the rabbi.
“There is nothing I could give you,” said the tailor, “because there is no way you could possibly give me back that sleeve. It’s gone forever.”
“Oh, I can The tailor gazed at the sleeve in amazementdo it,” said the rabbi, sliding open the door of the alcove.
“Come in,” the rabbi bade the woman, “and give your husband what is rightfully his.”
The long-suffering woman placed the sleeve on the table, as the tailor gazed at the sleeve in amazement. He was so astonished by its miraculous return that he didn’t even notice who had carried it in.
“This is indeed your sleeve,” said the rabbi sternly, “but this is your wife!”
The man looked up and fainted.
After he was revived, the husband humbly gave his wife a divorce.
This story was recorded in Sippurim Nora’im by Rabbi Yaakov Kaidaner, who heard the tale from Rabbi David, a follower of the Kozhnitzer Maggid, who personally interviewed a number of people involved in this miraculous event.
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Where Rabbi Akiva Saw Joy
The students broke into tears. Looking up, they noticed that Rabbi Akiva was laughing.
Sanhedrin 101a
When the great Rabbi Eliezer fell ill, his devoted disciples came to visit him. He said to them, “There is a fierce wrath in the world,” implying that G‑d was punishing him.Where Rabbi Akiva Saw Joy
The students broke into tears. Looking up, they noticed that Rabbi Akiva was laughing.
Sanhedrin 101a
The students broke into tears.
Looking up, they noticed that Rabbi Akiva was laughing.
“How can you laugh at a time like this?” they enquired.
“Tell me,” countered Rabbi Akiva, “why do you weep?”
They answered, “Shall we witness a veritable Torah scroll lie in pain, and not cry?”
“That’s exactly why I am laughing,” replied Rabbi Akiva. “As long as I saw that our master’s wine did not turn sour, his flax did not go bad, his oil did not spoil and his preserves did not become rancid, I thought, G‑d forbid, that he might have received all his reward in this world, leaving nothing for the next. Now that I see suffering, I rejoice, knowing that his reward will be given to him in the world to come.”
Hearing this, Rabbi Eliezer said to his prized student, “Akiva, have I neglected anything of the whole Torah? Why should I deserve even this suffering?”
Said Rabbi Akiva: “My master, you yourself have quoted the verse to us, ‘For there is not a just man upon earth who does good and does not sin.’”1
FOOTNOTES
1.Ecclesiastes 7:20.
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FEATURE
Bibliaphilia
A reflection on why Jews kiss Torah books by Michael Chighel
for your love is better than wine.
(Song of Songs 1:2)
Early during the 17th-century Enlightenment, an uprising of scholars and sundry quillmen with ink-stained fingers from across Europe and America confederated to form a borderless, virtual society known as the Republic of Letters (Respublica literaria). As the citizens Scholars and quillmen formed a borderless, virtual societyof this “republic” spent most of their waking hours preoccupied with eyeballing and manipulating the letters of the alphabet, notably in reading and in writing books and intellectual correspondences, they came to be known as the belletrists, or “men of letters.”
In a far a less elitist, far more populist sense, this may serve as a rather apt epithet for the Jewish people. The Jews are the people of the Alef-Bet.1 Ever since they stood at the foot of Mount Sinai, when the cloth of heaven was yanked down from its infinite recess above the celestial sphere and stitched to the fabric of the earth with the inky metaphysical thread of the Hebrew alphabet, the Bibliophile Nation has been busy reading this holy seam known as the Torah, “turning it over and over again and growing old in it” (Pirkei Avot5:21). A full Jewish life is a life full of reading. A Jewish home, according to a basic rule of interior design once outlined by the Rebbe, is a home full of books.
Is it any wonder that when a given citizen of this Alef-Bet Republic finishes reading something handed down to the generations by its venerable founders, he or she will kiss it, as a matter of second nature, before placing the wad of pulp and ink down on the table or back up on the shelf? Is it a wonder that Rabbi Adin Steinsaltz has even gone so far as to define “what it means to be a Jew” in terms of kissing books? But in order to appreciate the metaphorical logic of this deeply ingrained custom, this symbolic gesture, and also in order to dispel suspicions entertained by anyone held under the spell of comparative religion that this kissing of books is some kind of fetishism of dubious implications, it is helpful to consider each of the two elements at play separately. In the immortal words of ’70s pop star Gilbert O’Sullivan, it must be asked: “What’s in a kiss? Have you ever wondered just what it is? More perhaps than just a moment of bliss. Tell me, what’s in a kiss?”
That’s the second question that needs to be asked. The first question is:What’s in a book? Or, to be more precise, since Jews don’t kiss romance novels, calculus textbooks, aquarium pump instruction manuals or any other type of book that stems from human wisdom, the question pertains specifically to sefarim, “holy books,” books stemming from Divine wisdom.Sefer is a library classification that applies first and foremost to “Torah” in the narrowest sense of the term: the great scroll containing the Five Books—the Pentateuch or Chumash—dictated by G‑d to Moses. Beyond that, though, the classification includes all the books that have grown organically from the Torah like branches from a tree, including the smaller branches on the larger branches, all drawing sap and life from the tree, and serving the tree in turn, photosynthetically as it were, with the light-energy of fresh readings. The category of “holy books,” in other words—“Torah” in the broadest sense of the word—includes the books of the Prophets, Mishnah, Midrash, Talmud, rabbinic literature, kabbalistic literature, etc.
What’s in a sefer?
What is the Torah in its essence? Why does the great master of metaphors, King Solomon, for example, reach all the way back to the Garden of Eden in order to invoke the “tree of Life” (Proverbs 3:18)2 as the most felicitous metaphor for the Torah?
To give a proper definition of the Torah is probably impossible. But one essential and succinct To characterize the Torah as a “book” misses the pointcharacterization of it is offered in the midrashic-kabbalistic tradition: The Torah is the will and wisdom of G‑d.3 It is G‑d’s great communication of the cosmic desideratum to be attained in the human dimension: the mitzvot. For the mitzvot, the essential content of the Torah, constitute “the innermost dimension of the Supreme Will and the true Desire of G‑d.”4
To characterize the Torah as a “book,” therefore, is as meaningful as to characterize one’s husband or one’s wife as, say, a living organism belonging to the species Homo sapiens. The characterization is certainly not false. Nor can it be said to be inconsequential. After all, if someone’s spouse were to cease being a member of the said species or of the class of living organisms, heaven forbid, there would be no easy measure to that person’s grief. Nevertheless, such a characterization misses the point. It entirely misses the total, horizon-embracing intimacy embodied in a spousal relationship. Similarly, to call the Torah or any sefer a “book” misses the fact that this “book” opens up the possibility of profoundest intimacy with an author who not only wrote this extraordinary text, but who also happened to write the entire universe, to write it into being. A Torah “book” is really not a book, therefore. It’s a tear in the spatio-temporal continuum. It’s a time portal through which the reader is transported to the foot of Mount Sinai, the site that uniquely served as a gate built into the architectonic of time and opening onto the expanse of eternity. To open a sefer is to sit beside Ezekiel by the river Chebar under a sky unfurled like a scroll: ‘The heavens were opened, and I saw visions of G‑d’ (Ezekiel 1:1).5 And just as Adam, upon seeing Eve, immediately came to the conclusion that a man “will cleave to his wife, and they will be one flesh” (Genesis 2:24),6 a Jew who grasps the significance of a sefer trembles in its presence, in the seismic recognition that it contains nothing less than the opportunity for deveikut, an impassioned and tender “fusion,” with its great and awesome Author.
The Zohar sums up this mysterium tremendum in a pithy, radical equation: ‘The Torah and the Holy One, blessed be He, are one.’7
Are one. Unified. Are one. Existentially, essentially. Cutting through all the nice and sensible metaphysical distinctions that are typically drawn between the Divine Author and His magnum opus—after all, we don’t say that Shakespeare is Hamlet, that Herman Melville is Moby Dick, etc.—the Zoharic proposition bravely plunges into the heart of the matter. The Torah is G‑d.—But how can that be? Isn’t there more to G‑d that just a text, however awesome and holy this text may be? Doesn’t G‑d keep busy with other things as well, for instance with creating and continuously sustaining the universe?
The prosaic difference between the Holy Book and its Holy Author, which is more palatable to common sense and common parlance about G‑d and the Bible than the highly poetic affirmation of their unity, is certainly confirmed throughout midrashic and kabbalistic literature. Another much-quoted teaching of the Zohar, with many counterparts in Midrash, Isn’t there more to G‑d than just a text?for example, is that G‑d “looked into the Torah and created the world.”8 And since God sustains the universe by constantly re-creating it each and every moment,9 G‑d must be constantly looking into the Torah each and every moment.10 Ever since the composition of the ancient Sefer Yetzirah, the kabbalistic tradition has regarded G‑d as the primordial “man of letters” who creates the universe by means of the Alef-Bet.11 What this teaching implies, logically, is that G‑d and the Torah are in fact two distinct, separate realities. “G‑d looked into the Torah” does not suggest, at least not immediately, something like “G‑d looked into a mirror.” The gap between the two is especially underscored by the way that G‑d is cast in the passive role of reader rather than author.
On the other hand, could we abide by the logical conclusion to which this second Zoharic teaching would lead were it read as a line of rational argumentation, namely as an affirmation of cosmic dualism in which G‑d and the Torah are equiprimordial divine realities?12 Is there really any room for the possibility, as one philosopher has coyly put it,13 of “loving the Torah more than G‑d”? G‑d forbid! Cosmic dualism—what the ancients called Gnosticism or Zoroastrianism and what we call Star Wars, where the cosmic “Force” is divided into dark and light “sides”14—is the most rudimentary type of idolatry. On the basis of G‑d’s relentless denunciation of idolatry throughout the Torah, not to mention the preeminent position among the Ten Commandments of the repudiation of “other gods” (Exodus 20:3–6 & Deuteronomy 5:7–10), it is necessary, for the sake of a coherent view of the Torah, to resist a reading of the Zoharic teaching that “He looked into the Torah and created the world” as one that is ultimately true. Kabbalistic and midrashic teachings are poetically charged intimations of various truths, or of truth in various phases and faces. On the most prosaic level, the level ofCosmic dualism is the most rudimentary type of idolatrysober rational theology, G‑d and Torah are two distinct realities. Ascending a level into the poetic dimension, midrashic teaching is not afraid to indulge in the suggestive anthropomorphic imagery of G‑d reading the Torah. A midrash operating on more or less the same level tells us, for example, that G‑d wears tefillin.15 However, the poetic potency of even such metaphors is only of penultimate importance by comparison with the frustration of the metaphor in the still more powerful suggestiveness of the advisedly paradoxical statement, “G‑d and the Torah are one.” The equation is no longer a metaphor at all. It’s simply designed to make the mind snap.
In a context that is more rationalist than poetic (or midrashic-kabbalistic),Maimonides comes to express a very similar equation, at the limit of rational thought, and specifically on the same basis of a vigilance to the pitfalls of dualist or pluralist idolatries.
He does not know with a knowledge that is external to Him, in the way that we know, for we and our knowledge are not one. [ . . . ] Were He “alive” with a life, or were He to know with a knowledge, external from Him, there would be several divinities: He, His life and His knowledge. But the matter is not so. Rather, He is one from all sides and angles, in all manners of unity. Thus you will find it said: ‘He is the Knower, He is the Known, and He is the Knowledge itself.’ All is one. [ . . . ] He does not recognize and know created things by virtue of created things, as we know them. Rather, He knows them by virtue of Himself. Thus, because He knows Himself, He knows everything, for everything depends on Him for its existence.16
Within the term “knowledge” as it is used in this text, Maimonides evidently means to include the divine omniscience and providence that knows everything that happens in the universe. It is thanks to R. Schneur Zalman of Liadi that the general insight of this Maimonidean text is applied “specifically” to the primordial Knowledge, the Knowledge that preceded the creation of the universe and on the basis of which the universe was originally designed, the divine Knowledge that is the Torah.17 G‑d knows everything because everything is designed on the basis of the Torah. And G‑d knows the Torah because He knows Himself. An interpretation of Anochi, the “I” in “I am the L‑rd” (Exod. 20:2) says: “I give My soul in the text.”18 In giving us the Torah, it is “as if He had given us His very self.”19
“The Torah and the Holy One, blessed be He, are one.” It is a straightforward consequence of this simple, tremendous equation that to kiss a sefer is to kiss the Holy One, blessed be He.
Literally? Well, naturally, the physical sefer constructed of parchment or paper, A book is not just a physical thingof ink, of binding materials, etc., is also, like every object in the universe, a trickled-down manifestation of the Divine. But the tangible reality of a nicely bound book is the end product of a long series of formidabletzimtzumim, contractions of the infinite Divine light (or ein sof) that curdle the light’s transparency, contraction after contraction, into the opacity of the material world. The physical book in our hands is a highly “congealed” form of divinity. But a book is not just a physical thing. Its physical existence can very easily be traded in for a pixelated version legible on a computer screen or someone reading it out loud. Indeed, the true identity of the book lies in themeaning of its words, its narrative, its logic, its message. And in this respect, the Torah is very much the infinite wisdom of its Author manifest in uncongealed, highly limpid form.20 Just as it is possible to know a person who lives across the ocean much more intimately by reading a heartfelt e‑mail than by sitting side by side with him in dumb silence in the same room, a much closer intimacy with G‑d can be attained by reading the Torah than by any kind of mystical or miraculous but contentless experience of divinity.
Rabbi Schneur Zalman proffers a simple and bold metaphor for the essentially virtual way that meaning operates. The object of the Supreme Will, as mentioned above, is the mitzvah that the human being does in the material world. As the desideratum of the divine Will and intention, the mitzvah is the true meaning of the Torah. The material circumstances of the mitzvah, of course, obstruct any possible experience of the Torah in its “nudity,” being a layer of materiality. Nevertheless, meaning, like the movements of a living body under layers of clothing, is something that renders even the thickest layers into permeable membranes.
Although the Torah has been clothed in lower material things, it is like embracing the king, metaphorically speaking. There is no difference with regard to the degree of intimacy and attachment to the king between a situation in which the king is wearing a single garment and a situation in which he is wearing several garments, so long as the royal body is in them.21
Correspondingly, when a human being kisses a leather-bound sheaf of paper, the loving essence of the gesture penetrates into the realm of the incorporeal. The kiss reaches deep, beyond all corporeality, beyond paper and ink, into the meaning of the words in the sefer.
By the same token, indeed, the reach of the kiss also transcends the corporeality of the very lips that do the kissing. The kiss, this gesture of the lips in relation to the color-stained leather cover of the sefer, is, like the embrace of the king, a mere symbolic token of affection. For during the process of actual reading and immersion in Torah study, when the incandescent meaning of the words lets the physical reality of the book fall away into a dim and irrelevant background, “besides the intellect being enclothed in G‑d’s wisdom, behold, G‑d’s wisdom enters into it,” into the human intellect. Well beyond a kiss, this constitutes a “wondrous union, which is like no other union, and nothing commensurable can be found in the corporeal world, a unification of utter fusion and exclusivity from every side and angle.”22
What’s in a kiss?
Once the identity of the Torah and G‑d is grasped as something that takes place in the realm of language and meaning, in the realm of intimacy born of communication, the metaphorical significance of a kiss falls into place within the same realm. The human being, it should be recalled, is defined as ha-medaber, ‘the speaking one,’23 as a matter of essence rather than of accidental characteristic. Adam’s very first task in Eden was to identify the exact alphabetical elements and hence the Hebrew word through the metaphysical collusion of which each life form had been created, so that “whatsoever Adam called every living creature, that was the name thereof” (Genesis 2:19).
A kiss is an action done with the same mouth that breathes and speaks. Speaking, in a sense, is a highly disciplined and choreographed form of breathing. This is true in a very prosaic sense. As breath wells up from the lungs and passes through the windpipe, its flow is channeled and compelled to dance through the five organs of verbal articulation—larynx, palate, tongue, teeth and lips—in order to produce unique sounds. At the same time, breathing also bears a poetic connection with speech. An esoteric connection: “the secret of breath that exits from the mouth is transformed into voice.”24Breath is Breath is the mark of lifethe mark of life. But what is prosaically a mark of life in all animals that possess lungs attains in the human animal the special status of spirituality. (The Latin word spiritus, in fact, means breath.) Thus in Hebrew, as in most other languages, the words for “soul” are derived from, synonymous with or related to terms denoting breathing: nefesh, ruach, neshamah. Breathing thus comes to symbolize the innermost principle of vitality and identity. This is true of the “living” cosmos in general: “By the word of the L‑rd were the heavens made, and all the host of them by the breath of His mouth.” (33:6) It is true in a very special way of the human race, the first member of which was ready-to-go when G‑d “blew into his nostrils the soul of life” (Genesis 2:7). In his comment on this verse,Nachmanides explains that this metaphor is an allusion to the “foundation and secret” of the human soul within G‑d Himself. And he cites two biblical verses that evidently connect the phenomenon of breathing with the highest cognitive faculties in the human being: “For the L‑rd gives wisdom: out of His mouth comes knowledge and understanding” (Proverbs 2:6); “But there is a spirit[ruach] in man, and the breath [nishmat] of the Almighty gives them understanding” (Job 32:8). These verses indicate that the human soul is itself divine. “For when someone blows into the nostrils of another,” says Nachmanides, as if describing the first-aid procedure of mouth-to-mouth resuscitation, “he gives him of his own breath.” R. Schneur Zalman makes the profoundly inward dimension of this transfer of vitality still sharper: “As it says in the Zohar: he who exhales, exhales from within. Meaning: from his inwardness and his innermost, for it is the inward and innermost vitality in a human being that he emits in exhaling with force.”25 “Originally [Adam’s] breath was contained in its source and root, meaning, in [G‑d’s] being and essence.”26
The various actions that convene, on the physical plane, in the mouth thus provide a powerful metaphorical nexus in which three spiritual phenomena are braided together into a three-ply cord, and “a three-ply cord is not easily broken” (Ecclesiastes 4:12): breath-soul-speech, or, what amounts to the same, vitality-identity-intelligence. But the braid is so tight that each of the three strands cannot be considered in isolation from the other two. Thus, when a person speaks, his speech is simultaneously an expression of his vitality and identity as well as of his intelligence. The breath that his mouth uses to speak is the very same breath that is the substance of his life and soul. Likewise, when G‑d creates the universe by means of Ten Utterances,27this creation is tantamount to an infusion of vitality, not just existence, so that even seemingly inanimate things like rocks, dust and water are in fact innervated and trilling with divine life.28
And it is to this convergence of actions done with the mouth and to its correlative nexus of metaphors that a kiss must be included as a fourth phenomenon if its metaphorical significance is to be unpacked.
The kiss, as a beatific The kiss is thematized most exquisitely within biblical literaturephenomenon, is thematized most exquisitely within biblical literature by Solomon in hisSong of Songs. The word “kiss” occurs only twice in the text. But the first time is in the opening verse of the song, and its deep gong resonates throughout the rest of the verses.
Let him kiss me with the kisses of his mouth!
For your love is better than wine. (Song of Songs 1:2)
As the entire Song of Songs is an allegory for the intimacy between the human and the divine (for why else would the austere and G‑d-intoxicatedMen of the Great Assembly have included it in the biblical canon but for its power as a sublime allegory?29), the kiss in particular proved to be a compelling anthropomorphic metaphor in kabbalistic literature. Thus the Zohar attributes the verse “Let him kiss me” to the community of Israel as whole,30who sings it in reference to G‑d.
Why [does Israel say] “Let Him kiss me”? She should have said, “Let Him love me”! Why “Let him kiss me”? Because, as we have been taught, kisses are a cleaving of spirit/breath [ruach] to spirit/breath. This is why it is done with the mouth, for the mouth is the aperture and the wellspring of the spirit/breath.31
What did King Solomon see when he introduced words of love between the Upper World and the Lower World, and when he began his praises of the love between them with “Let him kiss”? But this is how it has been established: there is no love that is a cleaving of spirit/breath to spirit/breath without a kiss. And specifically a kiss on the mouth, for it is the wellspring of spirit/breath and its aperture. When two people kiss, the spirits/breaths cleave to one another and become one. Hence they become one love.32
It is to this divine love felt by G‑d in the Upper World for His people in the Lower World that the Tanya attributes G‑d’s descent into Egypt. And the purpose and consummation of the descent is characterized specifically in terms of Torah learning.
The Holy One, blessed be He, in His glory and His essence descended there, as is written: “And I have come down to deliver them, etc.” (Exod. 3:8), in order to bring them near to Him in true nearness and unity, in a true coupling of the soul belonging to the category of mouth-to-mouth kisses, to utter the word of G‑d, namely the halachah, and the fusion of breath/spirit to breath/spirit, namely the comprehension of the Torah and the knowledge of His will and wisdom, all of which is truly one.33
King Solomon’s sublime metaphor of the kiss was to become a theme coursing through the entire kabbalistic corpus. It climaxes in such seminal chassidic teachings as Basi le-Gani, the “swan song” discourse of R. Yosef Yitzchak Schneersohn, in which the whole of human history is conceptualized in terms of G‑d’s love for Israel and Israel’s reciprocation of that divine love through the only genuine signs of affection, the mitzvot. G‑d’s love for Israel is like “coals of fire” that “many waters cannot quench” (Song of Songs 8:6–7). And the mitzvah reciprocates this passion. It is an outward manifestation of the elemental fire that ascends from the heart to form breath and word. Commenting on the verse “For the L‑rd your G‑d is a consuming fire” (Deuteronomy 4:24), Rabbi Schneur Zalman notes the alphabetical-elemental affinity of “breath” (הבל), “heart” (הלב) and “flame” (להב): “Speech emanates from the element of fire, for it rises from the breath of the heart through a pipe; and the heart is the root of the element of fire.”34 Breath and speech are thusBreath and speech are thus expressions of a fire expressions of a fire blazing in the core of a Jewish heart, the natural passion of which, as evidenced in the upward surge of a flame,35 is to become reunited with the “consuming fire” that is G‑d. “For in the nature of the divine soul of the Jew there are flashing flames of love for G‑d which can be compared to the supernal fire that waters cannot quench.”36
Is it any wonder, then, that Rabbi Adin Steinsaltz dared to define “what it means to be a Jew” in terms of so seemingly trite and quirky a Jewish custom as that of kissing books? The definition falls into place rather felicitously within the cosmic love story first told by King Solomon once it is appreciated what’s in a kiss and what’s in a sefer. A kiss is a swirling amalgamation of breath and breath, spirit and spirit. And a sefer is, so to speak, the lips of G‑d.
FOOTNOTES
1.The combined facts that this people was smelted in an “iron crucible” (Deut. 4:20) in a land that was not theirs (Gen. 15:13), namely Egypt; that their very peoplehood was conceived outside the borders of the Holy Land, in Charan, where their forefather Abraham was “just visiting” (Gen. 11:31–12:1); that their international assignment was given in a transitory wilderness (Exod. 19:6); and finally, that for two millennia they have been in exile: all this is a key indication of the essentially virtualcharacter of their republic. The Holy Land brings the Holy Book to fruition, both literally (Deut. 26:1–15) and metaphorically. Which means that the Holy Book, in and of itself, constitutes the primary republic of the Jewish people, upon which a secondary republic can be built, on actual soil.
2.Pirkei Avot 6:7.
3.E.g., Zohar III:81a: “There is no Torah without wisdom and no wisdom without Torah, both being in the same grade, the root of the Torah being in the supernal Wisdom by which it is sustained,” and ibid. I:62a: “The Torah emanates from Supernal Wisdom.” Cf. ibid. I:47a, I:134b, I:145b, II:121a and I:207a; Bereishit Rabbah 17:5; Vayikra Rabbah 11:3; Kohelet Rabbah 2:6; Rabbi Schneur Zalman of Liadi,Likkutei Amarim—Tanya (Vilna, 1900), ch. 23 (p. 29a) and ch. 4 (p. 9b).
4.Tanya, ch. 23 (p. 28a).
5.See Tanchuma, Tzav 12. Cf. R. Menachem M. Schneerson, Likkutei Sichot, vol. 33 (Brooklyn, 1994), pp. 18–25.
6.See Tanya, ch. 46 (pp. 65b ff).
7.This is the simplified version of this equation as appears in the Tanya(Likkutei Amarim, chs. 4 and 23, andShaar ha-Yichud veha-Emunah, ch. 1). In the Zohar itself, the wording varies; see I:24a, II:60a, III:73a. We also find it in the transitive form: Torah = G‑d’s Name, G‑d’s Name = G‑d, ergo, Torah = G‑d (e.g., II:90b).
8.Zohar II:161b. Cf. Genesis Rabbah 1:1, 1:4, 3:5, 64:8; Mishlei Rabbati, ch. 9 (commenting on Prov. 9:1); Shir ha-Shirim Rabbah 5:11:4; Shemot Rabbah 47:4. Many midrashim besides refer to the primordial role of Wisdom (חכמה) in Creation: Vayikra Rabbah 11:1; Talmud, Berachot 55a; Tanchuma, Bereishit l; Shemot Rabbah 47:4; Avot 3:14; Sifri, Devarim 48; Zohar I:5a, I:47a, I:134a–b, I:207a, II:161a, III:35b.
9.See Talmud, Chagigah 12b; Pirkei d’Rabbi Eliezer, ch. 50; Tanya, Shaar ha-Yichud veha-Emunah, chs. 1–2, andIggeret ha-Kodesh, ch. 11; Maimonides, introduction to Perek Chelek, 1st & 10th Principles & idem, Guide for the Perplexed I:69.
10.See Talmud, Avodah Zarah 3b and Gittin 6b.
11.Cf. Avot 5:1; Emek ha-Melech 1:2–3;Tanya, Shaar ha-Yichud veha-Emunah, chs. 1–2.
12.This is the basically Gnostic conclusion to which Plato arrives by rational thinking. In his late dialogue, theTimaeus (28), Plato describes the creation of the cosmos via an architectural metaphor in which a divine craftsman (demiurgos) refers to a primordial blueprint (paradeigmatos). Philo would seem to want to align the Torah with this Platonic doctrine in hisDe Opificio Mundi (17–20). Unlike Plato, however, he repeatedly specifies that the blueprint originates within the mind of the architect (διανοηθεὶς ἐνενόησε πρότερον). Likewise, Maimonides warns against this kind of parallel with the Timaeus (Guide II:6; cf. III:21). The entire comparison is deftly refuted by Efraim Urbach, Chazal(Jerusalem, 1971), pp. 175ff. It is a Greek approach that reduces everything to the rational, whereas for the Torah G‑d transcends everything, including reason (see Tanya, ch. 4 (p. 8b)).
13.Emmanuel Lévinas, “Aimer la Thora plus que Dieu,” Difficile liberté (Paris, 19762), pp. 188–93. But Lévinas is neither a dualist nor an atheist. In a sense, his paradoxical formula merely relocates the Zoharic equation.
14.The veritably Gnostic genealogy of Star Wars is not difficult to trace. George Lucas conceived it under the explicit influence of Joseph Campbell’s Hero with a Thousand Faces (1949), a study that uncovers the Ahriman vs. Ahuramazda (Good vs. Evil) premise that gives every myth its exciting plot.
15.Berachot 6a. Still another shade of intimacy between G‑d and the Torah is found in the midrashic image that the Torah itself is bound like tefillin on the arm of the Holy One. Midrash Konen, in Y. D. Eisenstein, Otzar ha-Midrashim(New York, 1927), p. 253.
16.Mishneh Torah, Yesodei HaTorah 2:10. In the Guide of the Perplexed (I:68), Maimonides recalls the classical Aristotelian argument for why the divine intellect is knower ((ens intelligens), knowledge (intellectus) and the thing known (ens intelligibile). It is the argument based on the perfection of actuality (ενέργεια) from MetaphysicsXII, chs. 7 & 9, which ends with the celebrated formula that says Divinity is “thought thinking thought” (ἡνόησις νοήσεως νόησις; 1074b34). But Maimonides introduces this Aristotelian argument in the Guide only in order to refute those who look for an analogy for the divine Mind in human cognition. The more fundamental and primary argument, which precedes the bad analogue, stems from Maimonides’ rejection of the notion of a plurality of divine attributes on the grounds that it is a sophisticated form of idolatry (seeGuide I:50–57). This is consistently Maimonides’ primary argument: in theGuide, in the Mishneh Torah (cited here), and in the Shemonah Perakim(ch. 8).
17.Tanya, ch. 2 (p. 6a) & ch. 4 (p. 8a). See Guide III:21.
18.Shabbat 105a. R. Yochanan reads אנכי as a notarikon for אנא נפשי כתיבת יהבית. See Rabbi M. M. Schneerson, Sefer ha-Maamarim Melukat, vol. 3 (Brooklyn, 2002), p. 338.
19.Tanya, ch. 47 (p. 67a). Cf. Exodus Rabbah 33:6; Leviticus Rabbah 30:13; Tanchuma, Terumah 3.
20.Still, the Torah as we know it is itself the product of a certain order of צמצומים. See R. Dov Ber (the Maggid of Mezeritch), Ohr Torah, ed. Y. I. Schochet (Brooklyn, 1972), secs. 71 & 80. Cf.Tanya, ch. 4 (8b).
21.Tanya, ch. 4 (9a). Cf. ibid., ch. 23 (29a).
22.Ibid., ch. 5 (9b).
23.See e.g. Onkelos & Rashi re Gen. 2:7;Guide I:51.
24.Zohar II:39a.
25.Tanya, ch. 2 (6a). Cf. II Kings 4:34.
26.R. Schneur Zalman of Liadi, Likkutei Torah mi-Sefer Vayikra (Zhitomir, 1866), Acharei, p. 25c.
27.Pirkei Avot 5:1.
28.Cf. Sefer Yetzirah 1:9; Tanchuma, Bereshit 5; Zohar II:20b, I:47a, 148a. But this is not “animism” in the typical sense. See Tanya, Shaar ha-Yichud veha-Emunah, ch. 1, where R. Shneur Zalman attributes this teaching to R. Isaac Luria; and see Etz Chayim, Shaar M”N uM”D, Derush 3.
29.The cultured despisers of the biblical canon who want to know why the Song of Songs is not worded more explicitly as a simile (like Plato’s “Allegory of the Cave”) rather than as a metaphor would presumably insist on reading Orwell’sAnimal Farm as an agricultural story, Kafka’s Metamorphosis as an entomological tale, etc.
30.See Shir ha-Shirim Rabbah 4:22 (& Devarim Rabbah 2:37): “In ten places [in Scripture] Israel is called ‘bride’; six here [in the Song of Songs], and four in the Prophets.”
31.Zohar II:124b.
32.Ibid., II:146a–b. See R. Eliyahu de Vidas, Reishit Chochmah 2:2.
33.Tanya, ch. 46 (65b). Cf. ibid., ch. 45 (64b); Likkutei Torah mi-Sefer Bamidbar(Zhitomir, 1848), Chukat, 61a.
34.Likkutei Torah, Acharei, p. 25c.
35.Cf. Tanya, ch. 50. Cf. Rabbi Chayim ibn Attar’s explanation of the precocious “fiery kiss” whereby Nadav and Avihu expire (Or HaChayim, Lev. 16:1).
36.Sefer ha-Maamarim Basi le-Gani, vol. 1 (Brooklyn, 1991), p. 3.
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WOMEN
My Mother’s Unintentional Gift
They loved their grandchildren and great grandchildren, who raided their "kosher cupboard," and they were proud of the young rabbis in our family, but our uncompromising lifestyle choices mystified them. by Lieba Rudolph
I have often thought that people should write their own obituaries. Indeed, I have started writing my own. Why should I leave it to others to decide what’s important to share about my life story? However, my mother did not have that opportunity, and it’s impossible to condense my perception of her into one coherent blog post, so I’ll just share a couple of things that I will always be grateful to her for.-------
WOMEN
My Mother’s Unintentional Gift
They loved their grandchildren and great grandchildren, who raided their "kosher cupboard," and they were proud of the young rabbis in our family, but our uncompromising lifestyle choices mystified them. by Lieba Rudolph
I never
I have started writing my own obituary knew how my father felt when my mother would say that she had wanted to get married only so that she could have children. But as her daughter, that statement meant that my two siblings and I were the most important people in her life. Only now that I’m a parent do I appreciate the endless hours she put into raising me. It wasn’t just the shopping trips or visits to the orthodontist; it was the constant counseling I required. Without fail, she was available to help me deal with my complicated social life (even if the downside was that she remembered exactly who did what long after I forgot).
More importantly, she and my father gave me their full attention whenever I needed it for as long as I needed it, helping me navigate my inner world, the world of my “bad thoughts.” I didn’t know what was wrong with me, but as soon as I was old enough to think, I was thinking obsessively about life’s painful realities—like why some kids were in wheelchairs or why some people were unhealthy.
I cry now when I remember with gratitude their way of gently comforting me, of never making me feel foolish, or asking, “Why in the world are you still thinking about these things?”
I know now that this inner anxiety was the stirring of my Jewish soul. It was troubled by existential questions for which my life’s trajectory had yet to provide answers. But this soul, this pintele Yid, was a spark, literally a part ofG‑d, that I inherited from my mother. And when I say I’m eternally grateful to her for it, I mean it. Now that I finally understand what to do with it.
When we became observant, I was relieved, and somehow sure that Torahand chassidut provided meaningful answers to everything that had caused me anguish as a child. But I was 31 when we started our Jewish journey, and I didn’t know an aleph from a bet. There was so much to learn—and just as much to unlearn—that I occasionally wished my soul could have been more content with what was.
Now,I sobbed and begged her for forgiveness almost 30 years later, it’s hard not to see G‑d’s unmistakable hand in my transformation. And the transformation was not just in my life, but in my husband’s and our children’s lives as well. But the truth is that the transformation came with a heavy price.
Because every time the journey became difficult, my parents were the “go-to” people to blame. Why didn’t they teach me how to pray in Hebrew? Why was I never shown how to love a fellow Jew? And my dissatisfaction with what I didn’t get Jewishly as a child invariably led to feelings of guilt: where was my gratitude for what they did give me?
When I stood before my mother’s casket, I sobbed as I begged her for forgiveness for anything I ever did that hurt her. For me as a baalat teshuvah, a returnee to Torah observance, honoring my parents was a challengingmitzvah.
My parents were wonderfully supportive, especially compared to some other parents of baalei teshuvah. My mother would dress up for our Purim parties, and my father was instrumental in raising money for the new yeshivah in Pittsburgh. Still, I know it caused my parents pain that our Pesach Sederstarted too late and went on too long for them to join us, and that we couldn’t eat in the same restaurants. They loved their grandchildren and great-grandchildren, who raided their “kosher cupboard,” and they were proud of the young rabbis in our family, but our uncompromising lifestyle choices mystified them. Their friends whose children had intermarried had easier lives, at least on the surface.
My mother’s Jewish pragmatism didn’t diminish the fire of her own pintele Yid, though. She was diligent about lighting her Shabbat candles, going to synagogue for Yizkor, visiting her parents (and later, my father) at the cemetery. And when I talked to her about Moshiach’s imminent arrival, she answered unequivocally: “I’m ready.”
One of the traditional ways to officially end the shivah, the seven-day mourning process, is to walk around the block, which my brother Robert and I did together. As we walked against a cold March wind, I told him that our mother was now in the world of truth, olam ha-emet. The outer shell of her body has been shed, and the inner light of her G‑dly soul now shines completely, without constraint.
I assured
More importantly, she and my father gave me their full attention whenever I needed it for as long as I needed it, helping me navigate my inner world, the world of my “bad thoughts.” I didn’t know what was wrong with me, but as soon as I was old enough to think, I was thinking obsessively about life’s painful realities—like why some kids were in wheelchairs or why some people were unhealthy.
I cry now when I remember with gratitude their way of gently comforting me, of never making me feel foolish, or asking, “Why in the world are you still thinking about these things?”
I know now that this inner anxiety was the stirring of my Jewish soul. It was troubled by existential questions for which my life’s trajectory had yet to provide answers. But this soul, this pintele Yid, was a spark, literally a part ofG‑d, that I inherited from my mother. And when I say I’m eternally grateful to her for it, I mean it. Now that I finally understand what to do with it.
When we became observant, I was relieved, and somehow sure that Torahand chassidut provided meaningful answers to everything that had caused me anguish as a child. But I was 31 when we started our Jewish journey, and I didn’t know an aleph from a bet. There was so much to learn—and just as much to unlearn—that I occasionally wished my soul could have been more content with what was.
Now,I sobbed and begged her for forgiveness almost 30 years later, it’s hard not to see G‑d’s unmistakable hand in my transformation. And the transformation was not just in my life, but in my husband’s and our children’s lives as well. But the truth is that the transformation came with a heavy price.
Because every time the journey became difficult, my parents were the “go-to” people to blame. Why didn’t they teach me how to pray in Hebrew? Why was I never shown how to love a fellow Jew? And my dissatisfaction with what I didn’t get Jewishly as a child invariably led to feelings of guilt: where was my gratitude for what they did give me?
When I stood before my mother’s casket, I sobbed as I begged her for forgiveness for anything I ever did that hurt her. For me as a baalat teshuvah, a returnee to Torah observance, honoring my parents was a challengingmitzvah.
My parents were wonderfully supportive, especially compared to some other parents of baalei teshuvah. My mother would dress up for our Purim parties, and my father was instrumental in raising money for the new yeshivah in Pittsburgh. Still, I know it caused my parents pain that our Pesach Sederstarted too late and went on too long for them to join us, and that we couldn’t eat in the same restaurants. They loved their grandchildren and great-grandchildren, who raided their “kosher cupboard,” and they were proud of the young rabbis in our family, but our uncompromising lifestyle choices mystified them. Their friends whose children had intermarried had easier lives, at least on the surface.
My mother’s Jewish pragmatism didn’t diminish the fire of her own pintele Yid, though. She was diligent about lighting her Shabbat candles, going to synagogue for Yizkor, visiting her parents (and later, my father) at the cemetery. And when I talked to her about Moshiach’s imminent arrival, she answered unequivocally: “I’m ready.”
One of the traditional ways to officially end the shivah, the seven-day mourning process, is to walk around the block, which my brother Robert and I did together. As we walked against a cold March wind, I told him that our mother was now in the world of truth, olam ha-emet. The outer shell of her body has been shed, and the inner light of her G‑dly soul now shines completely, without constraint.
I assured
The inner light of her soul shines completely him that our parents are very much with us, even though they’re not physically here. They can help us, especially in our G‑dly endeavors. (I told him I wasn’t sure what they could do for his golf game, though.) And because this material world is the place where G‑d wants us to make His presence felt, we should do more mitzvahs in our parents’ memory, because they are no longer here to do them. (I don’t ever remember being able to articulate the purpose for creation so well in such a short time.)
I know that my mother enjoyed hearing about my blog, even if she called it a “glob.” So, if you have a special appreciation for this “glob” post, well, maybe she’s helping already.
But still she felt there was something missing in her life.
She decided to embark upon a quest to find what was missing. Something was missingThis is not as easy as it sounds, as they did not have GPS quest-finders in her kingdom. And it is pretty hard to find something if you don’t know what it looks like.
First she made a list of everything she had. This was a very long list, and took a long time to compile. It consisted mostly of actual items in her possession.
Then she made a list of what she didn’t have. This made her really think and ponder, for it didn’t seem there was anything she didn’t already own.
But she struggled and thought, and finally came up with a very short list. Here is what she thought she was missing:
Not being too sure of directions, the queen decided to stick close to home at first. So she went out to the garden of the palace, where she saw a young child playing.
“Who are you?” the queen asked.
“I am Matilda, daughter of your housemaid,” the little girl answered.
“What are you doing here?” asked the queen.
“I am watching the ants as they build their castles and work underground.”
“Why?”
“Because watching the ants makes me feel much bigger and more important than such little creatures, and I can just stomp them if I get bored.”
“Hmm,” said the queen. “Guess I have to go further than the castle to discover what I am missing.”
The queen decided to leave the castle grounds. Going out a “What were you laughing about?”back gate, she watched as some children from the village were playing ball and hitting the ground with their sticks.
“Why are you hitting the ground with your sticks?” asked the queen.
“To frighten the younger children who want to play with us,” was the quick response.
Once again, the queen had not found laughter, joy or true happiness.
Tired from her day outside, the queen returned to the castle and slowly walked up the stairs. She decided to stop at the nursery and say goodnight to the little princess and prince, who were cared for by their nanny.
As she approached the doorway, she heard the children whispering. She stood outside their door, struggling to hear what they were saying. Other than giggles and whispers, she really could not make out any words. She entered the room, and the children looked up expectantly.
“What were you laughing about, children?” the queen asked.
“Nothing special,” they replied.
“I have been searching for laughter and joy and happiness all day,” said the queen, “and I can’t find it anywhere. When I came up the stairs, I heard you laughing. Can’t you tell me what you were laughing about?”
The children looked at each other and then at their mother. “Mother,” they said, “laughter and joy and happiness are all around.”
“All I saw today were children who wanted to feel superior by watching anthills, or children who wanted to feel powerful by frightening away other children. But I didn’t find happiness anywhere.”
“But did you notice the beautiful flowers blooming in the garden? Did you see birds soaring in the sky? Did you see puppies rolling on the grass? Did you see a baby touching his mother’s face?”
“No, I was specifically looking for laughter, joy and happiness. You don’t expect me to pay attention to all those little details, do you?”
“Oh, Mother,” said the wise children, “happiness, laughter and joy are not things to collect and put away on your shelves like your books and jewelry and clothing. They must be felt each day. You need to open your eyes to the world, and not view everything as an object to acquire. Come spend a day with us, and truly see laughter, joy and happiness.”
The queen realized that perhaps her children had a point. So She watched the children run and playthe very next day, she came into their room and told the nanny to take the day off. She watched the children run and play, laugh and sing, color and dance (and sometimes fight and cry; after all, they were children).
At the end of the day, she was exhausted. “Now do you see, Mother?” asked the children.
“Oh yes,” said the queen. “Now I see how hard it is to find laughter, joy and happiness. I am going to have to work very hard to get these items on my list from now on.”
The children looked at each other and shook their heads. They didn’t think their mother really understood the message. But they agreed that if they could spend a little more time with her each day, perhaps they could show her over time that indeed she would find what she was searching for so diligently.
For the filling, I sautéed some onion, garlic, shredded carrot, celery and mushrooms, and mixed that in with ricotta, parmesan and an egg.
You can tailor the filling to your taste. The amounts don’t need to be exact, and you can leave out or exchange some of the ingredients for others.
You can cook the shells in one large pan, or divide them up into smaller pans (like I did).
You can also adjust the amount of cheese you sprinkle over the top. You could also do a mixture of mozzarella and parmesan.
Enjoy!
Ingredients:
1 onion, diced
2–3 cloves garlic, crushed
2 carrots, grated
1 stalk celery, sliced thinly
3 mushrooms, diced
2 tbsp. olive oil
1 egg
1 lb. ricotta cheese
1 12-oz. box jumbo shells
¼ cup parmesan cheese
1 cup shredded mozzarella cheese (or more, if you prefer)
2–3 cups marinara sauce
Fresh basil (optional)
Salt
Directions:
Sauté the onion in the oil until translucent. Add the garlic, carrot and celery, and cook until wilted. Add the mushrooms and cook 1–2 minutes more. Salt mixture to taste and set aside to cool.
Mix the vegetables with the ricotta, parmesan and egg.
Cook the shells according to the instructions on the box. Then fill each shell with the ricotta filling.
Spread a layer of marinara sauce in the bottom of a baking pan. Place the shells in a single layer, with the opening facing upwards. Pour the rest of the marinara over the shells and sprinkle with fresh basil (optional).
Cover tightly with foil and bake at 350° F for 30 minutes. Take the pan out, remove the foil and sprinkle the mozzarella cheese over the shells. Return to the oven, uncovered, for another 10 minutes, until the cheese is melted and bubbly.
Yields: 25–30 shells
Art: En Route to the Promised Land by Yoram Raanan
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JEWISH NEWS
Rivky Berman, Chabad Emissary, 29, Inspired Many During a Lifelong Battle With Illness
Rivky Berman, a young Chabad-Lubavitch emissary who inspired many throughout her lifelong struggle with illness, passed away May 29 at the Duke University Hospital in Durham, N.C. by Chabad.org Staff
Cooperation among Jewish organizations is alive and well in St. Louis. More specifically, Chabad-Lubavitch emissaries have been working with other outlets for the benefit of the community at large.
Rabbi Levi Landa, program director of Chabad of Greater St. Louis, and his wife, Rivka, are part of Jewish initiatives that help engage and connect individuals of all ages. For the past two years, the 35-year-old rabbi has served as the peer-elected president of JPro, a professional association for those who work in Jewish organizations around St. Louis (locally referred to as JProStl), operating under the auspices of the Jewish Federation.
He handed the gavel over to the next president last week at the organization’s annual end-of-year networking event.
St. Louis native Rhonnie Goldfader and her husband, Stanley, have taken classes with Landa through Chabad. She says she’s not surprised that he’s been leading JPro. Rather, she expects they saw in him what she does, too. “He’s a man that teaches the beauty of Judaism—the beauty of the what’s and why’s. He talks about no judgements. A lot of people say that, but he walks the walk; he really does.”
A current professional development series at JPro called “The Power of Difference,” which explores how embracing difference leads to greater engagement, is one of Landa’s contributions. About a year ago, the board identified a need to create a shared conversation among the various organizations and agencies that make up JPro to enhance collaboration. This series brought the conversation to the broader community.
“Our differences—and we each have them—represent the sum of our experience and outlooks and unique gifts we each bring,” explains Landa. “By embracing them, we are demonstrating that every individual is important, eachmitzvah is valuable, and that each and every person has a role to play in making the world a better, more holy place.”
Landa first got involved with JPro at the end of 2010. He attended some events, and then Marci Mayer Eisen, director of the Millstone Institute, a leadership program run by the Jewish Federation of St. Louis, recruited him to be part of planning for a JPro conference to take place that following March. He didn’t know any of the other professionals at that first meeting. But after a few years, he not only made it to the board, but became its president.
“He’s wise beyond his years. He’s really earned the trust and respect of the professionals,” says Eisen. “He’s a great teacher, but he’s also an avid learner. He demonstrates humility, and he’s willing to step up and have hard conversations when he knows it’s for the greater good.”
After coming to JPro eight years ago, Eisen says she wanted the professional association to be more than just a networking arm. It’s one of about 15 JPro groups across the country, but it’s distinctive in that it has had a Chabad rabbi as its president and now part of its leadership.
Being involved, says Landa, has given him the chance to build meaningful relationships with a diversity of professionals who work in the Jewish community and beyond.
It has also offered him the opportunity to welcome groups from JPro to such activities as Chabad’s “Model Matzah Bakery” workshop, where professionals rolled up their sleeves, put on aprons and discussed the holiday of Passover while baking matzah. He held a session about Jewish jargon—Yiddish terms that professionals might hear while working in the community. The Landas also led one of JPro’s most popular programs: a hands-on lesson on making challah.
“I think it’s hugely important to partner with other organizations,” says the rabbi. “Sometimes, there are these walls, whether real or imagined, that exist between Jewish entities. So one of the things Chabad has been able to demonstrate is that there are so many opportunities for us to work together for the same goal.”
From left: Karen Sher and Marci Mayer Eisen of the Jewish Federation of St. Louis pay tribute to Landa, shown here with his wife, Rivka, on the completion of his two years as president of the local Jpro organization.
Parents and Children Together
Landa returned to the area about a decade ago with his wife to focus on families with young children. His parents, Rabbi Yosef and Shiffy Landa, moved to Missouri in 1981, when he and his twin sister were infants, to start aChabad House. Like other children of emissaries of the Rebbe—RabbiMenachem M. Schneerson, of righteous memory—he and his six siblings were an integral part of his parents’ work. Also like other children of emissaries, he left as a teenager to attend a yeshivah high school elsewhere.
Ordained at the Rabbinical College of America in Morristown, N.J., he spent time traveling as a “Roving Rabbi” around the country and the world with other young Chabad rabbis.
The opportunity arose to return to St. Louis to be part of an evolving scene for Jewish life. “My wife and I found ourselves gravitating toward the stage of life we were in,” he says. “My daughter was a year old, and we understood the lifestyle of young families. We wanted to create programming for other people to keep them active and engaged in Jewish life, in addition to teaching Torah.”
They developed “Mommy & Me” classes, and offered kosher cooking and music classes. The emphasis was on creating experiences where parents and children celebrated Jewish traditions together. “Ultimately, that’s what’s going to determine what kids swallow up in terms of Jewish identity,” he says. “It’s what they see at home, what they see their parents doing.”
Soon afterwards, his wife was asked by the local Jewish Community Center to run a “Mommy & Me” class there. That proved the beginning of partnerships across the board.
‘Pulling People In’
Eisen states in no uncertain terms that Landa has helped transform JPro.
“He always adds to the conversation in such thoughtful ways,” she says. “And he didn’t stop there; he participated in the Millstone Fellows, which is mainly for lay leaders, and in our leadership coaching training. He gives of himself and brings Chabad to what he gives. I feel like he’s always been a part of efforts to build community.”
Jennifer Schmitz, who was in the inaugural class of Millstone Fellows with Landa in 2012-13, says she had a chance to get to know him at a Jewish Federation conference they both attended. “He is very genuine and easily connects with Jews from different levels of engagement. He has a way of pulling people in.”
Eisen recognizes that and more. She knows how much he’s making a difference: “Rabbi Landa has touched so many different sectors—professionals, younger lay leaders. He teaches us by who he is and how he treats other people. He has shown the potential of what happens when Chabad rabbis are actively involved in the professional communities—not just promoting their own work, but actually being a part of envisioning what they look like, now and in the future.”
The Landa family
I know that my mother enjoyed hearing about my blog, even if she called it a “glob.” So, if you have a special appreciation for this “glob” post, well, maybe she’s helping already.
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The Queen's Querulous Quest
“I have been searching for laughter and joy and happiness all day,” said the queen. by Susan Schwartz
Once upon a time there was a queen who lived in a lovely kingdom. There was nothing the queen did not have. Her closets were full of clothes, her jewelry box was full of jewels and her shelves were full of books. You get the idea.The Queen's Querulous Quest
“I have been searching for laughter and joy and happiness all day,” said the queen. by Susan Schwartz
But still she felt there was something missing in her life.
She decided to embark upon a quest to find what was missing. Something was missingThis is not as easy as it sounds, as they did not have GPS quest-finders in her kingdom. And it is pretty hard to find something if you don’t know what it looks like.
First she made a list of everything she had. This was a very long list, and took a long time to compile. It consisted mostly of actual items in her possession.
Then she made a list of what she didn’t have. This made her really think and ponder, for it didn’t seem there was anything she didn’t already own.
But she struggled and thought, and finally came up with a very short list. Here is what she thought she was missing:
- Laughter
- Joy
- True happiness
Not being too sure of directions, the queen decided to stick close to home at first. So she went out to the garden of the palace, where she saw a young child playing.
“Who are you?” the queen asked.
“I am Matilda, daughter of your housemaid,” the little girl answered.
“What are you doing here?” asked the queen.
“I am watching the ants as they build their castles and work underground.”
“Why?”
“Because watching the ants makes me feel much bigger and more important than such little creatures, and I can just stomp them if I get bored.”
“Hmm,” said the queen. “Guess I have to go further than the castle to discover what I am missing.”
The queen decided to leave the castle grounds. Going out a “What were you laughing about?”back gate, she watched as some children from the village were playing ball and hitting the ground with their sticks.
“Why are you hitting the ground with your sticks?” asked the queen.
“To frighten the younger children who want to play with us,” was the quick response.
Once again, the queen had not found laughter, joy or true happiness.
Tired from her day outside, the queen returned to the castle and slowly walked up the stairs. She decided to stop at the nursery and say goodnight to the little princess and prince, who were cared for by their nanny.
As she approached the doorway, she heard the children whispering. She stood outside their door, struggling to hear what they were saying. Other than giggles and whispers, she really could not make out any words. She entered the room, and the children looked up expectantly.
“What were you laughing about, children?” the queen asked.
“Nothing special,” they replied.
“I have been searching for laughter and joy and happiness all day,” said the queen, “and I can’t find it anywhere. When I came up the stairs, I heard you laughing. Can’t you tell me what you were laughing about?”
The children looked at each other and then at their mother. “Mother,” they said, “laughter and joy and happiness are all around.”
“All I saw today were children who wanted to feel superior by watching anthills, or children who wanted to feel powerful by frightening away other children. But I didn’t find happiness anywhere.”
“But did you notice the beautiful flowers blooming in the garden? Did you see birds soaring in the sky? Did you see puppies rolling on the grass? Did you see a baby touching his mother’s face?”
“No, I was specifically looking for laughter, joy and happiness. You don’t expect me to pay attention to all those little details, do you?”
“Oh, Mother,” said the wise children, “happiness, laughter and joy are not things to collect and put away on your shelves like your books and jewelry and clothing. They must be felt each day. You need to open your eyes to the world, and not view everything as an object to acquire. Come spend a day with us, and truly see laughter, joy and happiness.”
The queen realized that perhaps her children had a point. So She watched the children run and playthe very next day, she came into their room and told the nanny to take the day off. She watched the children run and play, laugh and sing, color and dance (and sometimes fight and cry; after all, they were children).
At the end of the day, she was exhausted. “Now do you see, Mother?” asked the children.
“Oh yes,” said the queen. “Now I see how hard it is to find laughter, joy and happiness. I am going to have to work very hard to get these items on my list from now on.”
The children looked at each other and shook their heads. They didn’t think their mother really understood the message. But they agreed that if they could spend a little more time with her each day, perhaps they could show her over time that indeed she would find what she was searching for so diligently.
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LIFESTYLE
Cheesy Stuffed Shells for Shavuot by Miriam Szokovski
The holiday of Shavuot is almost upon us, when it’s traditional to eat dairy foods, and these cheesy stuffed shells definitely fit the brief.LIFESTYLE
Cheesy Stuffed Shells for Shavuot by Miriam Szokovski
For the filling, I sautéed some onion, garlic, shredded carrot, celery and mushrooms, and mixed that in with ricotta, parmesan and an egg.
You can tailor the filling to your taste. The amounts don’t need to be exact, and you can leave out or exchange some of the ingredients for others.
You can cook the shells in one large pan, or divide them up into smaller pans (like I did).
You can also adjust the amount of cheese you sprinkle over the top. You could also do a mixture of mozzarella and parmesan.
Enjoy!
Ingredients:
1 onion, diced
2–3 cloves garlic, crushed
2 carrots, grated
1 stalk celery, sliced thinly
3 mushrooms, diced
2 tbsp. olive oil
1 egg
1 lb. ricotta cheese
1 12-oz. box jumbo shells
¼ cup parmesan cheese
1 cup shredded mozzarella cheese (or more, if you prefer)
2–3 cups marinara sauce
Fresh basil (optional)
Salt
Directions:
Sauté the onion in the oil until translucent. Add the garlic, carrot and celery, and cook until wilted. Add the mushrooms and cook 1–2 minutes more. Salt mixture to taste and set aside to cool.
Mix the vegetables with the ricotta, parmesan and egg.
Cook the shells according to the instructions on the box. Then fill each shell with the ricotta filling.
Spread a layer of marinara sauce in the bottom of a baking pan. Place the shells in a single layer, with the opening facing upwards. Pour the rest of the marinara over the shells and sprinkle with fresh basil (optional).
Cover tightly with foil and bake at 350° F for 30 minutes. Take the pan out, remove the foil and sprinkle the mozzarella cheese over the shells. Return to the oven, uncovered, for another 10 minutes, until the cheese is melted and bubbly.
Yields: 25–30 shells
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Art: En Route to the Promised Land by Yoram Raanan
I will place My dwelling in your midst, and My Spirit will not reject you; I will walk among you and be your G‑d, and you will be My people. I am the L‑rd, your G‑d, who took you out of the land of Egypt . . . Leviticus 26:11–13)
In this closing chapter of Leviticus, G‑d promises to walk among His people, bringing them to the Promised Land and the eventual building of the Temple in Jerusalem. The painting is permeated with golden light that illuminates a pathway towards the sanctuary beyond purple mountains. The deep blue-violet shades enhance the feeling of majesty and expansiveness. In contrast, the vertical lines suggest the sanctuary, and heighten our sense of elation and spiritual elevation. Embraced by a warm glowing of color, the people move toward the gateway of our ultimate dream—a House of prayer for all peoples
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JEWISH NEWS
Rivky Berman, Chabad Emissary, 29, Inspired Many During a Lifelong Battle With Illness
Rivky Berman, a young Chabad-Lubavitch emissary who inspired many throughout her lifelong struggle with illness, passed away May 29 at the Duke University Hospital in Durham, N.C. by Chabad.org Staff
Rivky Berman at a campus event in North Carolina
Rivky Berman, a young Chabad-Lubavitch emissary who inspired many throughout her lifelong struggle with illness, passed away May 29 at the Duke University Hospital in Durham, N.C. She was 29 years old.
Born in Stamford, Conn., to Rabbi Yisrael and Vivi Deren, Rivky Deren grew up in an atmosphere where serving G‑d with joy and sharing Judaism with others was paramount—even when things were not easy.
She was one of several siblings who were born with Bloom syndrome. In addition to affecting her growth, the condition caused Rivky to be prone to many illnesses.
Nevertheless, throughout her life Berman maintained a spunky, upbeat attitude, and had a unique ability to share the hope and joy that defined her life with others. She shared that positive attitude in blog posts, personal counseling and in every venue available to her.
“Rivky was always thinking of other people,” says Devora Lustig, who first met her at Camp Simcha, a camp for children and teens with cancer and other blood disorders. “She was always running around arranging things. She was a doer, and nothing could get her down. For example, she and another girl had planned to hold a farbrengen one Friday night. Then that girl suddenly passed away, and we were all heartbroken. The next week, Rivky arranged an even bigger and grander farbrengen in that girl’s memory and invited everyone.”
Lustig adds that “even though she had so many strikes against her, no one thought of her as anything other than normal since she saw herself as just a regular person. In camp, we would sing and dance at every meal, and all the staff would make sure to dance with the campers to try to cheer them up. Even though she herself was a camper, Rivky was up there dancing with others, never thinking of herself as in need of encouragement.
“Rivky was very good at keeping in touch with people, which was probably one of the reasons why she had so many friends,” continues Lustig. “I remember visiting her in the hospital, and there she was writing a letter to a friend who had just gotten engaged. That was her—always thinking about what she could do to help.”
‘G‑d Thought I Could Handle It’
Reflecting in a video posted to her blog on the medical hurdles she had faced, she maintained, “I dealt with it, I am here, and I have an incredible life ... I don’t see those things as issues. I see them as challenges. Those are challenges that G‑d gave me—and anyone else that has that challenge—because He truly believes that I can take that challenge and I will fulfill that challenge ... I was given something that only I was given because G‑d thought that I can handle it.”
Rabbi Shmulie and Rivky Berman
After a successful lung transplant, she married Rabbi Shmulie Berman in the summer of 2012. The young couple looked forward to establishing themselves as Chabad-Lubavitch emissaries, something her family had devoted themselves to since great-grandparents Rabbi Sholom and Chaya Posner moved to Pittsburgh in the mid 1940s to head the Chabad educational system in that city.
The Bermans moved to North Carolina, where Rivky had once been hospitalized waiting for her lung transplant. There, they helped with undergraduate programming at Chabad of Duke and were instrumental in the founding of Chabad at North Carolina State University.
In 2015, she was found to have lymphoma and was once again admitted to the hospital. Even from her hospital room, she continued to reach out, organize and serve—orchestrating an entire Purim celebration from the confines of her bed.
‘A Life of Purpose’
In a speech, she once joked that “you know you are in the ER way too often when you walk in and the nurses all scream, ‘Hey Deren! What’s up?’ ”
Yet, despite her frequent challenges, she said that “my family and I have gone through many difficult times. The teaching of tracht gut vet, zein gut [‘think good, and it will be good’] almost became a refrain in our lives.
“Sometimes, this is on a simple level: starting your day with the attitude that it will be a good day can actually make that a reality. On a deeper level, we are taught that having this kind of bitachon, trust and confidence in Hashem, can actually help create the space for the good to happen. And that even in situations where it is difficult for human beings with our limitations to see good, that we can still find even small sparks of sunshine because we are confident that even if not right now, ultimately, Hashem will show us the good so we can see it with our own eyes. Maybe another way of saying this is that ‘everything ends up OK in the end, and if it’s not OK, it’s not the end.’ ”
In typical fashion, she and her family converted her hospital room into an ad hoc Chabad House, where parties were hosted and people were invited to domitzvahs.
Despite her illness, she remained active, recently joining the Ruderman Chabad Inclusion Initiative advisory committee with the hope of advancing inclusion for people with disabilities, and emphasizing the equality and value of everyone in the community.
In writing to friends and congregants about his sister’s passing, Rabbi AsherDeren noted that “in a lifetime that some would describe as pain and illness, Rivky fought back to live a life of joy, celebration, adventure, ambition, fashion, and more than anything, purpose.”
He noted how his sister’s “smile, determination and fierce independence set a new standard of living for all of us,” and that “the signature of Rivky’s email (and closing line of her Matric Valedictory Speech) was ‘in the end, it will all be good, and if it’s not good, it’s not the end.’
“Today is not the end of Rivky’s life,” he wrote. “We hope and pray that before very long, our entire family will be reunited when Hashem will ‘wipe away the tears from all faces,’ and we will celebrate our ‘end’ in a world of eternal health and peace, with the coming of Moshiach.”
In addition to her parents and husband, Rivky Berman is survived by her siblings Rabbi Yossi Deren, Rabbi Asher Deren, Rabbi Chezky Deren and Chanie Backman. She was predeceased by her siblings Shlomo AharonDeren, Blumi Deren and Rabbi Mendel Deren.
The funeral will leave Shomrei Hadas Chapel at 3803 14th Ave. in Boro Park, Brooklyn, on Tuesday, May 31, at 11:15 a.m., passing by Lubavitch World Headquarters at 770 Eastern Parkway in the Crown Heights neighborhood of Brooklyn at 12:15 p.m.
Internment will follow near the Rebbe’s resting place at the Old Montefiore Cemetery in Queens, N.Y.
Shiva will begin 7 p.m. on Tuesday at 121 Little Hill Drive in Stamford.
<script language="javascript" type="text/javascript" src="http://embed.chabad.org/multimedia/mediaplayer/embedded/embed.js.asp?aid=3342408&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>-------
St. Louis Chassidic Rabbi Builds Bridges Among Jewish Organizations
Rabbi Levi Landa steps down from one role and into others. by Karen Schwartz
Rabbi Levi Landa, program director of Chabad of Greater St. LouisRivky Berman, a young Chabad-Lubavitch emissary who inspired many throughout her lifelong struggle with illness, passed away May 29 at the Duke University Hospital in Durham, N.C. She was 29 years old.
Born in Stamford, Conn., to Rabbi Yisrael and Vivi Deren, Rivky Deren grew up in an atmosphere where serving G‑d with joy and sharing Judaism with others was paramount—even when things were not easy.
She was one of several siblings who were born with Bloom syndrome. In addition to affecting her growth, the condition caused Rivky to be prone to many illnesses.
Nevertheless, throughout her life Berman maintained a spunky, upbeat attitude, and had a unique ability to share the hope and joy that defined her life with others. She shared that positive attitude in blog posts, personal counseling and in every venue available to her.
“Rivky was always thinking of other people,” says Devora Lustig, who first met her at Camp Simcha, a camp for children and teens with cancer and other blood disorders. “She was always running around arranging things. She was a doer, and nothing could get her down. For example, she and another girl had planned to hold a farbrengen one Friday night. Then that girl suddenly passed away, and we were all heartbroken. The next week, Rivky arranged an even bigger and grander farbrengen in that girl’s memory and invited everyone.”
Lustig adds that “even though she had so many strikes against her, no one thought of her as anything other than normal since she saw herself as just a regular person. In camp, we would sing and dance at every meal, and all the staff would make sure to dance with the campers to try to cheer them up. Even though she herself was a camper, Rivky was up there dancing with others, never thinking of herself as in need of encouragement.
“Rivky was very good at keeping in touch with people, which was probably one of the reasons why she had so many friends,” continues Lustig. “I remember visiting her in the hospital, and there she was writing a letter to a friend who had just gotten engaged. That was her—always thinking about what she could do to help.”
‘G‑d Thought I Could Handle It’
Reflecting in a video posted to her blog on the medical hurdles she had faced, she maintained, “I dealt with it, I am here, and I have an incredible life ... I don’t see those things as issues. I see them as challenges. Those are challenges that G‑d gave me—and anyone else that has that challenge—because He truly believes that I can take that challenge and I will fulfill that challenge ... I was given something that only I was given because G‑d thought that I can handle it.”
Rabbi Shmulie and Rivky Berman
After a successful lung transplant, she married Rabbi Shmulie Berman in the summer of 2012. The young couple looked forward to establishing themselves as Chabad-Lubavitch emissaries, something her family had devoted themselves to since great-grandparents Rabbi Sholom and Chaya Posner moved to Pittsburgh in the mid 1940s to head the Chabad educational system in that city.
The Bermans moved to North Carolina, where Rivky had once been hospitalized waiting for her lung transplant. There, they helped with undergraduate programming at Chabad of Duke and were instrumental in the founding of Chabad at North Carolina State University.
In 2015, she was found to have lymphoma and was once again admitted to the hospital. Even from her hospital room, she continued to reach out, organize and serve—orchestrating an entire Purim celebration from the confines of her bed.
‘A Life of Purpose’
In a speech, she once joked that “you know you are in the ER way too often when you walk in and the nurses all scream, ‘Hey Deren! What’s up?’ ”
Yet, despite her frequent challenges, she said that “my family and I have gone through many difficult times. The teaching of tracht gut vet, zein gut [‘think good, and it will be good’] almost became a refrain in our lives.
“Sometimes, this is on a simple level: starting your day with the attitude that it will be a good day can actually make that a reality. On a deeper level, we are taught that having this kind of bitachon, trust and confidence in Hashem, can actually help create the space for the good to happen. And that even in situations where it is difficult for human beings with our limitations to see good, that we can still find even small sparks of sunshine because we are confident that even if not right now, ultimately, Hashem will show us the good so we can see it with our own eyes. Maybe another way of saying this is that ‘everything ends up OK in the end, and if it’s not OK, it’s not the end.’ ”
In typical fashion, she and her family converted her hospital room into an ad hoc Chabad House, where parties were hosted and people were invited to domitzvahs.
Despite her illness, she remained active, recently joining the Ruderman Chabad Inclusion Initiative advisory committee with the hope of advancing inclusion for people with disabilities, and emphasizing the equality and value of everyone in the community.
In writing to friends and congregants about his sister’s passing, Rabbi AsherDeren noted that “in a lifetime that some would describe as pain and illness, Rivky fought back to live a life of joy, celebration, adventure, ambition, fashion, and more than anything, purpose.”
He noted how his sister’s “smile, determination and fierce independence set a new standard of living for all of us,” and that “the signature of Rivky’s email (and closing line of her Matric Valedictory Speech) was ‘in the end, it will all be good, and if it’s not good, it’s not the end.’
“Today is not the end of Rivky’s life,” he wrote. “We hope and pray that before very long, our entire family will be reunited when Hashem will ‘wipe away the tears from all faces,’ and we will celebrate our ‘end’ in a world of eternal health and peace, with the coming of Moshiach.”
In addition to her parents and husband, Rivky Berman is survived by her siblings Rabbi Yossi Deren, Rabbi Asher Deren, Rabbi Chezky Deren and Chanie Backman. She was predeceased by her siblings Shlomo AharonDeren, Blumi Deren and Rabbi Mendel Deren.
The funeral will leave Shomrei Hadas Chapel at 3803 14th Ave. in Boro Park, Brooklyn, on Tuesday, May 31, at 11:15 a.m., passing by Lubavitch World Headquarters at 770 Eastern Parkway in the Crown Heights neighborhood of Brooklyn at 12:15 p.m.
Internment will follow near the Rebbe’s resting place at the Old Montefiore Cemetery in Queens, N.Y.
Shiva will begin 7 p.m. on Tuesday at 121 Little Hill Drive in Stamford.
<script language="javascript" type="text/javascript" src="http://embed.chabad.org/multimedia/mediaplayer/embedded/embed.js.asp?aid=3342408&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>-------
St. Louis Chassidic Rabbi Builds Bridges Among Jewish Organizations
Rabbi Levi Landa steps down from one role and into others. by Karen Schwartz
Cooperation among Jewish organizations is alive and well in St. Louis. More specifically, Chabad-Lubavitch emissaries have been working with other outlets for the benefit of the community at large.
Rabbi Levi Landa, program director of Chabad of Greater St. Louis, and his wife, Rivka, are part of Jewish initiatives that help engage and connect individuals of all ages. For the past two years, the 35-year-old rabbi has served as the peer-elected president of JPro, a professional association for those who work in Jewish organizations around St. Louis (locally referred to as JProStl), operating under the auspices of the Jewish Federation.
He handed the gavel over to the next president last week at the organization’s annual end-of-year networking event.
St. Louis native Rhonnie Goldfader and her husband, Stanley, have taken classes with Landa through Chabad. She says she’s not surprised that he’s been leading JPro. Rather, she expects they saw in him what she does, too. “He’s a man that teaches the beauty of Judaism—the beauty of the what’s and why’s. He talks about no judgements. A lot of people say that, but he walks the walk; he really does.”
A current professional development series at JPro called “The Power of Difference,” which explores how embracing difference leads to greater engagement, is one of Landa’s contributions. About a year ago, the board identified a need to create a shared conversation among the various organizations and agencies that make up JPro to enhance collaboration. This series brought the conversation to the broader community.
“Our differences—and we each have them—represent the sum of our experience and outlooks and unique gifts we each bring,” explains Landa. “By embracing them, we are demonstrating that every individual is important, eachmitzvah is valuable, and that each and every person has a role to play in making the world a better, more holy place.”
Landa first got involved with JPro at the end of 2010. He attended some events, and then Marci Mayer Eisen, director of the Millstone Institute, a leadership program run by the Jewish Federation of St. Louis, recruited him to be part of planning for a JPro conference to take place that following March. He didn’t know any of the other professionals at that first meeting. But after a few years, he not only made it to the board, but became its president.
“He’s wise beyond his years. He’s really earned the trust and respect of the professionals,” says Eisen. “He’s a great teacher, but he’s also an avid learner. He demonstrates humility, and he’s willing to step up and have hard conversations when he knows it’s for the greater good.”
After coming to JPro eight years ago, Eisen says she wanted the professional association to be more than just a networking arm. It’s one of about 15 JPro groups across the country, but it’s distinctive in that it has had a Chabad rabbi as its president and now part of its leadership.
Being involved, says Landa, has given him the chance to build meaningful relationships with a diversity of professionals who work in the Jewish community and beyond.
It has also offered him the opportunity to welcome groups from JPro to such activities as Chabad’s “Model Matzah Bakery” workshop, where professionals rolled up their sleeves, put on aprons and discussed the holiday of Passover while baking matzah. He held a session about Jewish jargon—Yiddish terms that professionals might hear while working in the community. The Landas also led one of JPro’s most popular programs: a hands-on lesson on making challah.
“I think it’s hugely important to partner with other organizations,” says the rabbi. “Sometimes, there are these walls, whether real or imagined, that exist between Jewish entities. So one of the things Chabad has been able to demonstrate is that there are so many opportunities for us to work together for the same goal.”
From left: Karen Sher and Marci Mayer Eisen of the Jewish Federation of St. Louis pay tribute to Landa, shown here with his wife, Rivka, on the completion of his two years as president of the local Jpro organization.
Parents and Children Together
Landa returned to the area about a decade ago with his wife to focus on families with young children. His parents, Rabbi Yosef and Shiffy Landa, moved to Missouri in 1981, when he and his twin sister were infants, to start aChabad House. Like other children of emissaries of the Rebbe—RabbiMenachem M. Schneerson, of righteous memory—he and his six siblings were an integral part of his parents’ work. Also like other children of emissaries, he left as a teenager to attend a yeshivah high school elsewhere.
Ordained at the Rabbinical College of America in Morristown, N.J., he spent time traveling as a “Roving Rabbi” around the country and the world with other young Chabad rabbis.
The opportunity arose to return to St. Louis to be part of an evolving scene for Jewish life. “My wife and I found ourselves gravitating toward the stage of life we were in,” he says. “My daughter was a year old, and we understood the lifestyle of young families. We wanted to create programming for other people to keep them active and engaged in Jewish life, in addition to teaching Torah.”
They developed “Mommy & Me” classes, and offered kosher cooking and music classes. The emphasis was on creating experiences where parents and children celebrated Jewish traditions together. “Ultimately, that’s what’s going to determine what kids swallow up in terms of Jewish identity,” he says. “It’s what they see at home, what they see their parents doing.”
Soon afterwards, his wife was asked by the local Jewish Community Center to run a “Mommy & Me” class there. That proved the beginning of partnerships across the board.
‘Pulling People In’
Eisen states in no uncertain terms that Landa has helped transform JPro.
“He always adds to the conversation in such thoughtful ways,” she says. “And he didn’t stop there; he participated in the Millstone Fellows, which is mainly for lay leaders, and in our leadership coaching training. He gives of himself and brings Chabad to what he gives. I feel like he’s always been a part of efforts to build community.”
Jennifer Schmitz, who was in the inaugural class of Millstone Fellows with Landa in 2012-13, says she had a chance to get to know him at a Jewish Federation conference they both attended. “He is very genuine and easily connects with Jews from different levels of engagement. He has a way of pulling people in.”
Eisen recognizes that and more. She knows how much he’s making a difference: “Rabbi Landa has touched so many different sectors—professionals, younger lay leaders. He teaches us by who he is and how he treats other people. He has shown the potential of what happens when Chabad rabbis are actively involved in the professional communities—not just promoting their own work, but actually being a part of envisioning what they look like, now and in the future.”
The Landa family
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Expanded Content and Reach at #1 Website for Jewish Women
TheJewishWoman.org continues to grow its audience, celebrating 10 years of articles and videos. by Carin M. Smilk
In the past 10 years, hundreds of thousands of readers have turned to TheJewishWoman.org for insight, information and inspiration.
Mother’s Day has come and gone, but for Cheri Cutler, it’s still very much on her mind. It was a tough one—much of it spent in quiet contemplation as she thought about her mother, Judith, who passed away last April.
“I’m still processing it all,” she says. “I have been reflecting on both being a mom and losing a mom.”
Still, Cutler, a professor at the Fox School of Business at Temple University in Philadelphia, notes that she has a lot to be thankful for—namely, her husband and their 7-year-old son, Jacob. “He is the light of my life,” she says. “I am so grateful for the beautiful family I have, but it’s also bittersweet right now.”
Jewish women like Cutler have been able to search online for some solace to these emotions. In the past 10 years, hundreds of thousands of them have turned toTheJewishWoman.org for insight, information and plain old comfort. As the world’s most frequently visited website for women in search of Jewish content, many of its articles have been reprinted and cited in magazines, books, websites and blogs devoted to Jewish women.
In recent years, its presence has expanded through social media.
In fact, a May 1 posting on Facebook that touched an emotional chord with readers hit a record high, reaching 2.2 million people with nearly 39,000 shares.
The website’s success, according to its editor, Chana Weisberg, can be attributed to remaining faithful to its mission statement as “an all-inclusive community and onlinehome for every Jewish woman, empowering women to find their unique voices—through learning and education, through inspiration and life experiences, and through practical tips and advice.”
Cheri Cutler and 7-year-old Jacob of Philadelphia
‘Improve and Be Better’
The site, part of the largerChabad.org, started in 2006 underSara Esther Crispe, who today directs an educational nonprofit. It is now run by Weisberg, with assistance from Sasha Friedman,Miriam Szokovski and DevorahLevin.
It is a reliable page to turn to, so to speak—the contemporary incarnation of an online encyclopedia of advice, instruction and discovery. With five distinct headings—“Spirituality & the Feminine,” “Relationships & Marriage,” “Birth & Parenting,” Voices & Inspiration” and “Home & Health”—the site offers everything from religion to recipes written by women from all backgrounds in all parts of the world.
A variety of videos, including lectures, classes and “how to’s,” are posted every week as well. Some of the most popular have focused on “What Happens When We Get to the Next World?”; “What Is a Woman’s Role in Judaism?”; and “The Mitzvah to Love: The Kabbalah of Healing Relationships.”
Since taking the reins of the site, Weisberg has doubled the number of items featured each week—from three or four to eight or more—emphasizing articles on Jewish inspiration and learning, particularly educational videos. With the growing number of readers has come increased engagement, including feedback, comments and dialogue related to individual articles.
Audiences have grown due to social media. In fact, a Facebook posting this month touched an emotional chord and has been viewed by a record number of 2.2 million people, with nearly 39,000 shares.
Weisberg is not surprised. She knows that women are eager to connect with others—and themselves. She knows that because she’s one of them.
“Writing about Jewish women and role models was always inside of me,” says Weisberg, who has six children and four grandchildren.
It was the natural outcome, she says, of a childhood steeped in learning. “The youngest in my family, I had the benefit of everyone else. I asked a lot of questions, and my father would very patiently answer them. I especially enjoying listening to profound discussions, soaking up everything I could. I knew that one day, I wanted to teach the world a few things from a women’s perspective.”
She points out a time not so long ago, in the early 1990s, when it was hard to find a book on the strong influences of Jewish women, biblical women. She scoured libraries for so long in search of them that instead she wound up writing a few herself. Now an author and worldwide lecturer who talks about women, faith, relationships and the Jewish soul, she aims for continued growth on the site. That’s what women strive for, she stresses—“personal growth.”
“Women want to improve and be better. We’re always looking to do better,” she says, “sometimes even berating ourselves for not doing enough.”
Along those lines, she wants more from the site, and sees no end to its possibilities and its reach, stressing that “there is something that speaks to every Jewish woman.”
TheJewishWoman editor Chana Weisberg
‘Help Each of Us Learn’
Sara Tzafona, a resident of Canada who writes for the site, became hooked on TheJewishWoman.org from the very beginning.
“I was impressed not just because it was a magazine about and for Jewish women, but that it was written by Jewish women,” she explains.
“And I don’t mean only professional writers that make their way to an office each morning, but also by everyday women—women like myself, women that don’t often have a voice, women that walk the Jewish talk or struggle with their faith, or are searching for a faith that has eluded them for much of their lives. It’s written by women who aren’t afraid to expose their foibles, fears or mistakes in an effort to help each of us learn. It’s an ongoing discussion that I believe superglues us together, enables us to learn and helps us to live the life that G‑d has planned for us.”
Tzafona notes that many articles have resonated with her, including one series in particular. “Years ago, there was a woman who had been diagnosed with brain cancer. She began writing for TheJewishWoman from the moment of her diagnosis until the end of her journey, and as a result, we walked the road with her.
“We learned of her fears and hopes,” remembers Tzafona. “I was amazed by her honesty and her ability to fight the battle that many would say she had lost. But to me, she didn’t lose. She taught us through her writing even as her health continued to deteriorate, and she did it eloquently and with love. Her memory will always be a blessing for me.”
Recipes are a popular feature, especially traditional family ones and those with a Middle Eastern flair, like this dish consisting of Crunchy Homemade Falafel with Hummus, Tahini and Israeli Salad.
At 70, Tzafona says she has a newfound appreciation for the aging process and seeks articles that speak to her stage of life, especially when it comes to Jewish housing and health care.
Essentially, the site works as a tool for each handler. That’s what Elina Hirman believes.
“There are so many useful articles,” says the 41-year-old mother of four from Oak Park, Calif., who is originally from Ukraine. She gives a three-hour, Sunday-night class on Judaism once a month, in Russian, to local Russian women at the nearby Chabad of the Conejo in Agoura Hills in Southern California. The site offers instant access to information about Jewish holidays, prayers, Rosh Chodesh, the Torah portions, making challah and more.
“Let’s face it: The education of Russian Jews was close to zero,” she states. “There is so much to learn. In my class, we have a core of regular attendees and often some guests, so we begin with the basics and build a foundation from there. We schmooze a little; we have a nosh. We’ve made friends. And like in life, some will get more knowledge, some less.”
Sometimes, the search for teaching materials takes her all over the Chabad.org site—to the women’s site, to the kids’ site. And wherever she lands, there will be something to learn.
Elina Hirman of Oak Park, Calif., says “there are so many useful articles.”
Hirman, originally from Ukraine, gives a class on Judaism once a month to local Russian women at Chabad of the Conejo in Agoura Hills in Southern California. Sometimes, the search for teaching materials takes her all over the Chabad.org site.
‘A New Discovery’
Over the years, certain stories on the site got people talking. Some of them are provocative, such as “A Frank Conversation About Boys and Girls Touching” and “What I’d Like to Tell the Woman Who Pitied Me for Having So Many Children.” Others measure yardsticks of human emotion, including“How to Deal With a Difficult Person”; “8 Things Men Say and What They Really Mean”; “How Can I Stop Worrying All the Time”; and, somewhat intuitively, “How to React When Someone Hurts Your Feelings.”
Devorah Martinez of Baltimore consults the website like clockwork for two specific things: the candle-lighting times and the recipes. In between, she likes “to read other people’s inspirational stories” on TheJewishWoman, she says, coupled with the Torah portion of the week.
She dates her first introduction with the site to its very beginnings a decade ago. The now 32-year-old, a hospitality administration major at Florida State University in Tallahassee, thinks back to one of her more intriguing assignments. A group project involved creating a catered meal from soup to nuts—a five-course dinner based on the cuisine of a foreign country. Other students plucked up places like France, Italy and China for their international theme; Martinez picked Israel.
She and four others came up with “a fabulous meal,” complete with blue-and-white decorations, and a menu designed in cream and gold hues (the colors ofJerusalem) with the offerings printed in English and Hebrew. “We used recipes from the site—Israeli recipes. It was a new discovery then, and we wound up turning to it every week.”
Miriam Szokovski edits the recipes on TheJewishWoman, providing many of her own.
Miriam Szokovski, who edits the recipes and provides many of her own, says “food is something that connects people. When people sit around sharing a meal, they open up, listen and connect with others. And that’s what happens online, too.
“People see a recipe for traditional potato latkes and that conjures up memories of a Jewish childhood, perched on a stool in their bubby’s kitchen, watching her frying the latkes and waiting for the crispy bits to eat. But every bubby had her own special touch, and people want to share and compare that with others.”
Working on the site for six years now, Szokovski says recipes are published on a continual basis. They sometimes feature new kosher cookbooks, even giving away copies to readers.
She notes that many of the most popular recipes have been traditional ones, such as those for chicken soup, brisket and challah. She recalls one published a few years ago that went viral: a “Mount Sinai Cake” for Shavuot.
This “Mount Sinai Cake” for Shavuot went viral when it published.
As for Martinez, she has grown in Jewish practice to the Torah-observant woman, wife and mother she is today. She notes that the ever-expanding content helped her along the way, especially when it came to learning blessings, and unearthing Jewish knowledge and history. “I feel like it’s helped me become frum [religious].”
She and her husband, the parents of two young daughters, say it’s an active resource for both of them. In the past—during moves from Florida to Texas to Maryland—Martinez taught at Jewish schools and wrote a corresponding educational newsletter for the children’s parents. She called it “Parshah in a Nutshell,” and in it, offered all she could.
At the very end, she also suggested a bit of advice: “For more information, go to Chabad.org.”
Devorah Martinez of Baltimore with the younger of her two daughters; she has referred to the site regularly since its beginnings a decade ago.
----------------------------
Expanded Content and Reach at #1 Website for Jewish Women
TheJewishWoman.org continues to grow its audience, celebrating 10 years of articles and videos. by Carin M. Smilk
In the past 10 years, hundreds of thousands of readers have turned to TheJewishWoman.org for insight, information and inspiration.
Mother’s Day has come and gone, but for Cheri Cutler, it’s still very much on her mind. It was a tough one—much of it spent in quiet contemplation as she thought about her mother, Judith, who passed away last April.
“I’m still processing it all,” she says. “I have been reflecting on both being a mom and losing a mom.”
Still, Cutler, a professor at the Fox School of Business at Temple University in Philadelphia, notes that she has a lot to be thankful for—namely, her husband and their 7-year-old son, Jacob. “He is the light of my life,” she says. “I am so grateful for the beautiful family I have, but it’s also bittersweet right now.”
Jewish women like Cutler have been able to search online for some solace to these emotions. In the past 10 years, hundreds of thousands of them have turned toTheJewishWoman.org for insight, information and plain old comfort. As the world’s most frequently visited website for women in search of Jewish content, many of its articles have been reprinted and cited in magazines, books, websites and blogs devoted to Jewish women.
In recent years, its presence has expanded through social media.
In fact, a May 1 posting on Facebook that touched an emotional chord with readers hit a record high, reaching 2.2 million people with nearly 39,000 shares.
The website’s success, according to its editor, Chana Weisberg, can be attributed to remaining faithful to its mission statement as “an all-inclusive community and onlinehome for every Jewish woman, empowering women to find their unique voices—through learning and education, through inspiration and life experiences, and through practical tips and advice.”
Cheri Cutler and 7-year-old Jacob of Philadelphia
‘Improve and Be Better’
The site, part of the largerChabad.org, started in 2006 underSara Esther Crispe, who today directs an educational nonprofit. It is now run by Weisberg, with assistance from Sasha Friedman,Miriam Szokovski and DevorahLevin.
It is a reliable page to turn to, so to speak—the contemporary incarnation of an online encyclopedia of advice, instruction and discovery. With five distinct headings—“Spirituality & the Feminine,” “Relationships & Marriage,” “Birth & Parenting,” Voices & Inspiration” and “Home & Health”—the site offers everything from religion to recipes written by women from all backgrounds in all parts of the world.
A variety of videos, including lectures, classes and “how to’s,” are posted every week as well. Some of the most popular have focused on “What Happens When We Get to the Next World?”; “What Is a Woman’s Role in Judaism?”; and “The Mitzvah to Love: The Kabbalah of Healing Relationships.”
Since taking the reins of the site, Weisberg has doubled the number of items featured each week—from three or four to eight or more—emphasizing articles on Jewish inspiration and learning, particularly educational videos. With the growing number of readers has come increased engagement, including feedback, comments and dialogue related to individual articles.
Audiences have grown due to social media. In fact, a Facebook posting this month touched an emotional chord and has been viewed by a record number of 2.2 million people, with nearly 39,000 shares.
Weisberg is not surprised. She knows that women are eager to connect with others—and themselves. She knows that because she’s one of them.
“Writing about Jewish women and role models was always inside of me,” says Weisberg, who has six children and four grandchildren.
It was the natural outcome, she says, of a childhood steeped in learning. “The youngest in my family, I had the benefit of everyone else. I asked a lot of questions, and my father would very patiently answer them. I especially enjoying listening to profound discussions, soaking up everything I could. I knew that one day, I wanted to teach the world a few things from a women’s perspective.”
She points out a time not so long ago, in the early 1990s, when it was hard to find a book on the strong influences of Jewish women, biblical women. She scoured libraries for so long in search of them that instead she wound up writing a few herself. Now an author and worldwide lecturer who talks about women, faith, relationships and the Jewish soul, she aims for continued growth on the site. That’s what women strive for, she stresses—“personal growth.”
“Women want to improve and be better. We’re always looking to do better,” she says, “sometimes even berating ourselves for not doing enough.”
Along those lines, she wants more from the site, and sees no end to its possibilities and its reach, stressing that “there is something that speaks to every Jewish woman.”
TheJewishWoman editor Chana Weisberg
‘Help Each of Us Learn’
Sara Tzafona, a resident of Canada who writes for the site, became hooked on TheJewishWoman.org from the very beginning.
“I was impressed not just because it was a magazine about and for Jewish women, but that it was written by Jewish women,” she explains.
“And I don’t mean only professional writers that make their way to an office each morning, but also by everyday women—women like myself, women that don’t often have a voice, women that walk the Jewish talk or struggle with their faith, or are searching for a faith that has eluded them for much of their lives. It’s written by women who aren’t afraid to expose their foibles, fears or mistakes in an effort to help each of us learn. It’s an ongoing discussion that I believe superglues us together, enables us to learn and helps us to live the life that G‑d has planned for us.”
Tzafona notes that many articles have resonated with her, including one series in particular. “Years ago, there was a woman who had been diagnosed with brain cancer. She began writing for TheJewishWoman from the moment of her diagnosis until the end of her journey, and as a result, we walked the road with her.
“We learned of her fears and hopes,” remembers Tzafona. “I was amazed by her honesty and her ability to fight the battle that many would say she had lost. But to me, she didn’t lose. She taught us through her writing even as her health continued to deteriorate, and she did it eloquently and with love. Her memory will always be a blessing for me.”
Recipes are a popular feature, especially traditional family ones and those with a Middle Eastern flair, like this dish consisting of Crunchy Homemade Falafel with Hummus, Tahini and Israeli Salad.
At 70, Tzafona says she has a newfound appreciation for the aging process and seeks articles that speak to her stage of life, especially when it comes to Jewish housing and health care.
Essentially, the site works as a tool for each handler. That’s what Elina Hirman believes.
“There are so many useful articles,” says the 41-year-old mother of four from Oak Park, Calif., who is originally from Ukraine. She gives a three-hour, Sunday-night class on Judaism once a month, in Russian, to local Russian women at the nearby Chabad of the Conejo in Agoura Hills in Southern California. The site offers instant access to information about Jewish holidays, prayers, Rosh Chodesh, the Torah portions, making challah and more.
“Let’s face it: The education of Russian Jews was close to zero,” she states. “There is so much to learn. In my class, we have a core of regular attendees and often some guests, so we begin with the basics and build a foundation from there. We schmooze a little; we have a nosh. We’ve made friends. And like in life, some will get more knowledge, some less.”
Sometimes, the search for teaching materials takes her all over the Chabad.org site—to the women’s site, to the kids’ site. And wherever she lands, there will be something to learn.
Elina Hirman of Oak Park, Calif., says “there are so many useful articles.”
Hirman, originally from Ukraine, gives a class on Judaism once a month to local Russian women at Chabad of the Conejo in Agoura Hills in Southern California. Sometimes, the search for teaching materials takes her all over the Chabad.org site.
‘A New Discovery’
Over the years, certain stories on the site got people talking. Some of them are provocative, such as “A Frank Conversation About Boys and Girls Touching” and “What I’d Like to Tell the Woman Who Pitied Me for Having So Many Children.” Others measure yardsticks of human emotion, including“How to Deal With a Difficult Person”; “8 Things Men Say and What They Really Mean”; “How Can I Stop Worrying All the Time”; and, somewhat intuitively, “How to React When Someone Hurts Your Feelings.”
Devorah Martinez of Baltimore consults the website like clockwork for two specific things: the candle-lighting times and the recipes. In between, she likes “to read other people’s inspirational stories” on TheJewishWoman, she says, coupled with the Torah portion of the week.
She dates her first introduction with the site to its very beginnings a decade ago. The now 32-year-old, a hospitality administration major at Florida State University in Tallahassee, thinks back to one of her more intriguing assignments. A group project involved creating a catered meal from soup to nuts—a five-course dinner based on the cuisine of a foreign country. Other students plucked up places like France, Italy and China for their international theme; Martinez picked Israel.
She and four others came up with “a fabulous meal,” complete with blue-and-white decorations, and a menu designed in cream and gold hues (the colors ofJerusalem) with the offerings printed in English and Hebrew. “We used recipes from the site—Israeli recipes. It was a new discovery then, and we wound up turning to it every week.”
Miriam Szokovski edits the recipes on TheJewishWoman, providing many of her own.
Miriam Szokovski, who edits the recipes and provides many of her own, says “food is something that connects people. When people sit around sharing a meal, they open up, listen and connect with others. And that’s what happens online, too.
“People see a recipe for traditional potato latkes and that conjures up memories of a Jewish childhood, perched on a stool in their bubby’s kitchen, watching her frying the latkes and waiting for the crispy bits to eat. But every bubby had her own special touch, and people want to share and compare that with others.”
Working on the site for six years now, Szokovski says recipes are published on a continual basis. They sometimes feature new kosher cookbooks, even giving away copies to readers.
She notes that many of the most popular recipes have been traditional ones, such as those for chicken soup, brisket and challah. She recalls one published a few years ago that went viral: a “Mount Sinai Cake” for Shavuot.
This “Mount Sinai Cake” for Shavuot went viral when it published.
As for Martinez, she has grown in Jewish practice to the Torah-observant woman, wife and mother she is today. She notes that the ever-expanding content helped her along the way, especially when it came to learning blessings, and unearthing Jewish knowledge and history. “I feel like it’s helped me become frum [religious].”
She and her husband, the parents of two young daughters, say it’s an active resource for both of them. In the past—during moves from Florida to Texas to Maryland—Martinez taught at Jewish schools and wrote a corresponding educational newsletter for the children’s parents. She called it “Parshah in a Nutshell,” and in it, offered all she could.
At the very end, she also suggested a bit of advice: “For more information, go to Chabad.org.”
Devorah Martinez of Baltimore with the younger of her two daughters; she has referred to the site regularly since its beginnings a decade ago.
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