Saturday, July 16, 2016

Terror in France - 9 Tammuz


HT: Daniel

The Magen Avraham writes: [Orach Chaim 580:9]  it is the custom of pious individuals to fast on the Erev Shabbos preceding Parshas Chukas in observance of a tragic event which occurred on that day.   On 9 Tammuz 5004, 24 cartloads of the Gemora and other holy books were publicly burned in France due to allegations of heretical and rebellious teachings contained therein.

Rav Hillel of Verona, a student of Rabbeinu Yonah, writes that his illustrious teacher noted that just 40 days prior to this episode, the Jews had publicly burned in that very spot a number of copies of the controversial philosophical writings of the Rambam. Rabbeinu Yonah saw in this tragedy Divine punishment being meted out for their actions, and he viewed it as a Heavenly message supporting the legitimacy of the teachings of the Rambam. The Jews of the time repented their actions and prayed for Divine forgiveness, thus ending the bitter controversy over the philosophical views of the Rambam. 

Although fasts commemorating historical events are normally established on the calendar date on which they occurred – in this case 9 Tammuz – the Rabbis of the time mystically inquired regarding the nature of the decree, and received the cryptic reply “da gezeiras Oraisah” – this is the decree of the Torah. This expression is taken from Onkelos’ Aramaic translation of the second verse in Parshas Chukas. They interpreted this message as alluding that the decree was connected to the day’s proximity to the reading of Parshas Chukas, so they established the fast specifically on the Erev Shabbos preceding the reading of Parshas Chukas.  Source: Shema Yisrael


Erev Shabbos preceding Parshas Chukas 5776 - 10.30pm local time - 9 Tammuz - 84 people were killed when a truck careened through crowds of people celebrating Bastille Day in the southern French city of Nice.

So not only was it the same date - 9 Tammuz - it was also Erev Shabbat - the exact time that the fast day was decreed to be held.


Friday, July 15, 2016

Can a Disease Become a Cure?


We all have made our share of mistakes, intentional or unintentional. We all have our flaws and defects, our psychological scars and lacerations. Conventional wisdom tells us that we can heal from our wounds and grow through our pain. We may be able to erase our unwanted pasts or overshadow them with positive strength. But can our actual mistakes and deficiencies become healing agents? Can a disease become a cure?

Please join Rabbi Simon Jacobson in this Kabbalistic healing workshop and travel into the inner core of all ailments and discover surprising secrets of your soul, not the least of which is the startling truth: All disease stems from a response to correct an aberration. At the root of all afflictions -- of all negative energy -- lies tremendous potency. Learn how to tap these powerful forces which feed your pains and convert them into formidable allies.

The Day Moses' Face Turned Green and The Mystery of Death


by Rabbi Y. Y. Jacobson

The Strings of the Heart

At the funeral of my father, eleven years ago, in May 2005, Elie Wiesel spoke. Wiesel and my father, Gershon Jacobson, were old time friends. Their friendship began in the early 1960’s, when they both worked as young, ambitious Jewish and Yiddish journalists. They were both survivors, although in different ways: Wiesel survived Auschwitz; my father carried the wounds of the Stalinist purges in the Soviet Union that deprived him of a normal childhood. They shared a common language and a soulful vocabulary. They were both wise, educated, cultured, intimately familiar with the past and present traumas of the Jewish nation, and committed to telling the story and embracing the vision of “Netzach Yisroel,” the eternity of Israel. They both understood pain, but never spoke of it.

Dr. Wiesel—who died two weeks ago, on July 2, 2016, was the only speaker at my father’s funeral and his eulogy lasted for three or four minutes.

Elie Wiesel said two things that stayed with me since. First, the famed holocaust survivor said that he knew my father for almost half-a-century, and yet never heard him gossip. For an ordinary man not to gossip is an extraordinary feat; for a journalist? It would seem impossible. My father spoke a lot about people; he made his living from analyzing and writing about people. But he never gossiped. He never spoke about the “people,” only about their ideas or behaviors. And he never got petty and personal.

Second, Dr. Wiesel asked, how does one mourn for a very close friend? Jewish law dictates the laws of mourning for parents, siblings, and other relatives. But there are no laws of how to grieve for a best friend.

Yet, “the heart possesses its own set of laws,” said Elie Wiesel.


Continue reading at The Yeshiva.net

Thursday, July 14, 2016

''Don't Miss the Train - Mashiach is Coming''


On July 13th, 2016 Rabbi Alon Anava was interviewed on the Kavanah Show on 101.9 ChaiFm on the topic of the urgency of getting ready for Mashiach.

The Tenth Red Cow



"They should take some of the ashes of the burnt purification offering [of the red cow] and place them in a vessel [filled] with spring water" [Chukat 19:17]

Rambam comments: "Nine red heifers were prepared from the time this mitzvah was given until the destruction of the Second Temple.  The first was prepared by Moshe, the second by Ezra, and there were seven from Ezra until the destruction of the Temple.  The tenth will be made by King Mashiach - May he be speedily revealed! Amen, may this be your Will!"

The fact that Rambam mentions the tenth red heifer that "will be made by King Mashiach" in his legal Code [the Mishneh Torah] is understood, since Rambam included in his Code many laws that will only be applicable in the future era.  What is difficult to comprehend is why he concluded this law with a prayer "May he be speedily revealed! Amen, may this be Your Will!"  Surely a legal Code is not the place for the author to record his personal emotions and feelings, or to lapse into prayerful wishes?

It could be argued, however, that with his "prayer", Rambam did teach us a point of Jewish Law - or, to be precise, three points:

Judaism requires a person:

1) Not merely to believe [intellectually] in Mashiach, but also to actively await and yearn [emotionally] for his coming [Laws of Kings 11:1]

2) Inevitably, feeling this void will lead a person to pray for Mashiach's coming, just as he prays for any other thing that is lacking in his life.

3) And being that the requirement to believe in Mashiach is in force at all times, it follows that likewise, a person must yearn and pray for Mashiach constantly.

Therefore:

1) Rambam included prayerful wishes here in his legal Code to indicate that awaiting Mashiach must not be only expressed intellectually, but emotionally too.

2) He stresses that Mashiach should come "speedily" to indicate Mashiach's coming should be a personal heartfelt desire.

3) He recorded the above principles, not in his codification of the laws concerning Mashiach, but here out of context, to indicate that one must express a yearning for Mashiach constantly, whatever the context of one's discusion happens to be.

Source: Likutei Sichos of the Lubavitcher Rebbe

Wednesday, July 13, 2016

Appreciation




by Rabbi Eli Mansour

“The nation settled in Kadesh; Miriam died there and was buried there. The nation had no water…” [Chukat 20:1-2]

Why did Bnai Yisrael suddenly run out of water when Miriam died?

Rashi explains that as Bnai Yisrael traveled through the desert, a miraculous, mobile well accompanied them to ensure that they would have a constant, adequate water supply. This well was provided in the merit of Miriam, an exceptionally righteous woman and prophetess, and once she died, the well was taken away, leaving the people without water.

The question, however, remains, why didn’t the well remain even after Miriam’s death? Was her great merit insufficient to continue providing the nation with water even after she passed on?

The Keli Yakar [Rav Shelomo Efrayim Luntschitz of Prague, 1550-1619] offers a remarkable explanation. He notes that when the Torah reports the death of Miriam, it simply states that she died and was buried. No mention is made of eulogies or mourning, in contrast to the Torah’s accounts of the deaths of Aharon and Moshe, where it is explicitly mentioned that the nation wept for the loss of their leader. It seems, the Keli Yakar observes, that the people were not moved by Miriam’s death, and did not properly eulogize or mourn for her. They failed to appreciate the fact that their constant water supply was directly and solely due to her. God therefore took away the well so that the people would appreciate what an exceptionally righteous person they lost. As they did not properly appreciate the miracle of the well and Miriam’s greatness which provided it, it had to be taken away.

The Keli Yakar’s insight teaches us the importance of appreciating everything we have while we have it. If we take everything we have for granted, then God is compelled to take it away, Heaven forbid, so we can appreciate just how valuable it is.

Unfortunately, we take so many things for granted in our lives. People do not generally appreciate their vision until, God forbid, they or someone they know suffers vision loss. We do not appreciate our health until, God forbid, we or someone we know takes ill. We do not appreciate our children until we meet a childless couple.

Each morning, we are required to recite a series of Berachot thanking Hashem for things that may appear simple and trivial. First and foremost, we recite “Elokai Neshama” to thank God for restoring our soul, for enabling us to wake up in the morning. We recite the Beracha of “Poke’ah Ivrim” to thank Him for our eyesight, “Malbish Arumim” to thank Him for our clothing, “Zokef Kefufim” to thank Him for allowing us to stand up straight, and “She’asa Li Kol Sorki” to thank Him for our shoes. We receive all these gifts, and so many more, each and every day, and our Sages who composed the liturgy wanted to ensure that we thank God for each one of them.

These blessings, like most of our blessings, are not fully appreciated until they are taken away from us. I once saw somebody I know running out of a burning building in a bathrobe; he was at the gym when a fire erupted, and he had no time to put on his clothes. This is when I appreciated the Beracha of “Malbish Arumim.” When we hear of somebody who wrenched his back during the night, we appreciate the Beracha of “Zokef Kefufim.” The Beracha of “She’asa Li Kol Sorki” came into focus for me after a bizarre experience I had once when I traveled to Mexico City to deliver a lecture in a large synagogue there. The hotel in which I stayed offered a free shoeshine service, whereby guests leave their shoes outside their room at night and then have it returned shined early the next morning. So, I left my shoes outside the room, and when I opened my door the next morning to go to the synagogue for Shaharit and my lecture…they were not there. I went down to the lobby to meet the people who had come to take me to the synagogue, and they saw me there without any shoes. This is when I appreciated the Beracha of “She’asa Li Kol Sorki,” that even the shoes on our feet should never be taken for granted.

Rav Avigdor Miller [1908-2001] would occasionally put his head in a sink full of water for several moments, until he needed to come out of the water for air. He explained that he wanted to feel grateful for the air we breathe at every moment of our lives. In order to truly feel appreciative, he deprived himself of air for several moments, during which time he was able to appreciate how precious the air is.

Part of the reason why it’s so difficult for us to appreciate our blessings in life is because we’re so busy complaining about our “problems.” These “problems” are things like traffic jams, a flat tire, a head cold, a misbehaving child, or a broken piece of furniture. When our emotional energy is expended on worrying about these “problems,” we are not able to feel happy and grateful for our blessings – that we have a spouse, children, a roof over our heads, a source of livelihood, friends, clothing to wear, and so on.

One Rabbi recommended that we each compile a list of ten blessings in our life and keep this piece of paper with us when we pray the daily Amida. When we reach the Modim section, in which we thank God “for Your wonders and favors that are given at all times,” we should look at the list so we can be grateful for the particular blessings in our lives. This will help us experience true gratitude, and appreciate what we have while we have it, so that the Almighty will continue showering us with these blessings and not, Heaven forbid, take them away from us.

Tuesday, July 12, 2016

Such Thoughts May Lead to Haughtiness



by Rabbi Yisroel Bronstein

''This is the statue of the Torah....'' [Chukat 19:2]

Rashi explains that the subject of the Parah Adumah [red cow] is referred to as ''statute'' [chukah] because this mitzvah ''is a decree [issued] by Me; you have no right to reflect upon it!''  That is, parah adumah is a decree that you may not question.

R' Eliyahu Meisels, the Rav of Lodz, had taken upon himself the task of collecting money for a certain young man in dire straits.

He turned to one of the wealthy, but miserly, men of Lodz to contribute towards the cause.  After much urging on the part of R' Meisels, the wealthy man yielded and gave him a considerable sum for tzedakah.

But then, the wealthy man began boasting about his act of kindness and he spared no effort publicizing what he had done.

The young man who had been the recipient of the tzedakah was humiliated by having his situation made so public.  In his distress, he asked R' Meisels to speak to the wealthy man and request that he cease talking about his act of tzedakah.

The Rav invited the arrogant fellow to his home and rebuked him for the anguish he had caused the young man.  He then added the following thought:  ''In the Torah's passage dealing with the parah adumah, Rashi explains that it is called a ''statute'' because this mitzvah ''is a decree [issued] by Me; you have no right to reflect upon it!''

''The same applies to the mitzvah of tzedakah'' concluded the Rav.  ''Before the person gives tzedakah he must think: It is a decree issued by Me - this is the will of Hashem!  However, once he has given the tzedakah ''you have no right to reflect upon it'' - it is forbidden to give tzedakah and afterwards reflect upon how much he gave and to whom, for such thoughts may lead to haughtiness.''