Rabbi Avi Berman

One of the reasons my wife and I decided to move to Givat Zev 15 years ago is the diversity of the community. On a typical Shabbat, I daven at an Ashkenazi shul that also has Sefardim, Persians and Morrocans. This inspires us and helps us set an example for our children that it’s important to love each and every Jew despite their background.

Interestingly, while we all daven together during the year, during the Yamim Noraim the Sefardim pick up and leave because we continue davening nusach Ashkenaz. There is something about the tefilot of Elul (Selichot, Rosh Hoshana and Yom Kippur) which gives us a pull to want to daven the same words and tunes that our parents, grandparents and great grandparents did.

Therefore, this year caused great questions. We have been davening outside in minyanim nearest to our houses, rather than with people who share the same nusach. Since March, my boys and I along with some of our neighbors have had the zechut of helping make a minyan in our yard for a neighbor who is unfortunately not well and saying kaddish for his father z”l. He happens to be Persian while the other neighbors davening in our minyan are Morrocan.

Before Rosh Hashana I spoke to many friends and rabbis about how to proceed with our davening this year. In the end, we davened Ashkenaz for Shacharit and Sefardic for Musaf on day 1 and swapped that order on day 2. Throughout the davening, I heard Shofar blowing and chazanim from multiple minyanim in the neighborhood. It was a beautiful mix of customs from so many different Jewish heritages.

The first night of Rosh Hashana I shared a beautiful thought from a letter written by Rav Eyal Vered about corona and how it caused us to open our eyes and see things differently. I kept thinking of the miracle of modern Israel. Over the past hundreds of years Hashem has been fulfilling the prophecies of kibbutz galuyot from all corners of the world. Did Hashem bring us all together to daven in separate minyanim? Corona is causing us to break down these barriers and come together.

This past week OU Israel had the Zechut of welcoming thousands of Jews from all over the world to learn Torah during our second annual Torah Yerushalayim in loving memory of David & Norma Fund Z”L. We were joined by Jews in Israel, N. America, the UK, Australia and even Dubai. Our backgrounds don’t matter, we are all inspired by the holy Torah.

As we are about to enter Yom Kippur, we are thinking about Jews who are in need. Unfortunately, this year many of us know more people who have been hit hard financially and need our help as we enter 5781. In addition to helping those in need of physical sustenance, I hope those of you who are in a position to help also open your hearts to those in need of spiritual sustenance. Whether you relate more to sponsoring Torah at the OU Israel Center or helping at-risk teens through our Zula and OU Israel Youth Centers, please consider giving kaparot to the OU Israel family at www.ouisrael.org/donate.

Wishing you, your families and all of Klal Yisrael and Gmar chatima tova,

Rabbi Avi Berman

Sedra Summary Haazinu
Rabbi Reuven Tradburks
Parshat Haazinu

Haazinu is the second to last Parsha in the Torah.  It is one chapter of 52 verses, making it one of the shortest in the Torah.

All but 8 verses consist of the song of Haazinu.  The song is written in the Torah in the form of a poem with 2 parallel columns.  The Torah itself calls it Hashira Hazot, this song; 5 times in last week’s parsha and one time again in this week’s.

The poem of Haazinu was the song the Leviim sang in the Beit Hamikdash during the Mussaf offering on Shabbat.  We know that Leviim sang a psalm from Tehilim as the Shir Shel Yom – the daily song and sang accompanying the morning daily offering. They also sang a song during Mussaf of Shabbat and that song is Haazinu.

But they did not sing the entire song each week.  Haazinu was divided into 6 sections – exactly the way we divide the aliyot.  One section was read per week, the entire song in 6 weeks.

While we know the words that the Leviim sang we shall never know the music – what tune did they use for Haazinu?  Was it slow, fast, joyful, mournful?  Perhaps each week’s tune was different, as the division that the Talmud outlines divides the song into very different themes.  While we can outline those themes, all we can do is imagine what music would fit each one.

First aliya, 32:1-6.  The song is a rhythmic poem of couplets, or at least begins that way.  Listen heavens, listen earth.   I will call in the name of Hashem. Ascribe greatness to our G-d.   These 6 psukim are the introduction.  What we are saying in this song is cosmic – give ear, heavens and earth.  He is Great and Just.  We, his children, are twisted.

Second aliya, 32:7-12.  These 6 verses introduce the dawn of Jewish history.  Remember those days.  These are tender, wistful remembrances.  You, Jewish people became His lot.  He found you, the apple of His eye.  Spread His wings over you.  He alone cares for us.

A capsule of Jewish history and how G-d relates to us must start with tenderness. This aliya is a smile, a description of those carefree days of faithfulness.

Third aliya, 32:13-18.  In these 6 verses, things start to go awry.  The psukim no longer end symmetrically, at the end of the second column.  Now they begin to end in the first column – off balance.  He placed you in the heart of the land, fed you honey, olive oil, butter, with livestock aplenty and wine.  And one of the great verses of the Torah – Yeshurun got fat and kicked.  Left Him and sought others – demons, new powers and forgot Him.

The song is off kilter now.  Bad enough to leave Him.  But forget Him?  This is not what your forefathers sought.

Fourth aliya, 32:19-28.  The song switches now from Moshe’s voice to G-d’s voice.  Moshe no longer describes Him – G-d speaks now in the first person.  I will hide my Face from them and see what happens then.  They angered Me.  I will send aggressors to anger them.  My anger burns.  I will take it out on the land.  I will scatter them, with no trace of their memory.  They won’t even understand that I am behind this, for they lack all insight.

This is no longer a 6 verse aliya like the first 3, but 9.  The verses all end in the middle column, not at the end of the second.  The world is not working the way it ought to.  Moshe can’t describe this for once G-d hides His face, no man can understand His ways.  The Ramban comments that this is actually a prediction of the exile of the 10 tribes, the Kingdom of Israel.  Their memory is gone.  A full 10 tribes of the Jewish people have been lost forever.  With no happy ending.  While the history of the Jewish people will have many tragedies, the loss of 10 tribes of our people, with no trace is a tragedy of epic proportions.  But the Torah is prescient – we did indeed forget them.

Fifth aliya, 32:29-39.  The song turns back to Moshe’s voice.  Oh would the people understand the consequences.  The plain meaning of some of the verses in this aliya is apparent, others quite obscure.  One could not pursue 1000 or 2 pursue 10000 were it not for our G-d.  The oppressors drink the bitter vintages of Sodom and Gemorrah.  G-d will eventually relent of this abandonment of His people, while the nations have none to their rescue.  G-d’s voice returns (v.39) – I am the one who gives life and takes it; none escapes My hand.

The last verse, with the return of G-d’s voice, also returns to ending in the second column.  Structure has returned, order is back.  This aliya is striking in referring both to the Jewish people and to the others, what we have been referring to as oppressors.  While we have been disappointing, we have an end of reconciliation.  But when it comes to the other nations and their evil and rebelliousness, Moshe cedes the floor back to G-d.  It is not for us to speak of the justice due others.  That is His work not ours.

Sixth aliya, 32:40-43.  3 verses are in the first person with G-d speaking of ultimate justice, vengeance against My enemies, those that hate Me.  Arrows of blood, a flesh consuming sword, the payment of the enemy.  The last verse calls on the nations to sing of His people, for in the end there is retribution and the land atones for His people.

This aliya is not for the faint of heart.  We squirm at the notion of a vengeful G-d.  As we squirm at “Shfoch chamatcha”, pour out Your wrath on the nations, the verses we say when we open the door at the Seder.  But Moshe insisted that we recite this song, seeming to feel this song will guide us in history.  Divine justice, reward and yes, punishment is part of the order of the world.  We repeat it at the seder when we look to the culmination of history and we repeat it in Akdamot that we say on Shavuot in looking to the future.  We don’t delight in His meting out justice.  Though we acknowledge that justice, Divine justice is to be part of the end of days.  But the song does not end with the retribution.  It ends with all peoples singing – a universal end of days.

Seventh aliya, 32:44-52.  Moshe brings this song, together with Yehoshua to the people.  He instructs them to take it to heart and to command it to their children.  It is not empty words but rather is your life.  Then Moshe is told to ascend Har Navo where he is to die.

The verse states that Hashem spoke to Moshe of his impending death “b’etzem hayom hazeh”, on that very day.  The simple meaning is that on the very day that this song was complete, Moshe’s life too had served its time and was too to be completed.  But Rashi quotes the Midrash that prefers to translate this as meaning “in broad daylight”.  Moshe’s ascension to the mountain and his death is to be public, in full view.  As if to avoid the objections of the people.  As much as the people would want to prevent this – Moshe’s death is inevitable.

STATS
53rd of the 54 sedras; 10th of 11 in D'varim Written on 92 lines in a Sefer Torah, ranks 51st 3 Parshiyot; all open (extra open!) 52 p'sukim - ranks 51st (8th in D'varim) 614 words - ranks 52nd (9th in D'varim) 2326 letters - ranks 52nd (9th in D'varim) P'sukim are among the shortest in the Torah

Mitzvot

The Sefer HaChinuch does not count any mitzvot in Ha'azinu; Rambam counts one - YAYIN NESECH. This is the only mitzvah on Rambam's whole list of 613 mitzvot that the Sefer HaChinuch does not count. (The Sefer HaChinuch counts a different mitzvah that is not on the Rambam's list. Both lists have 613, as is Traditional)

Haftorah

Hoshea 14:2-10, Yoel 2:11-27, Micah 7:18-20

The Shabbat between Rosh Hashana and Yom Kippur is known as Shabbat Shuva. This is based on the fact that the opening words of the special haftorah that we read on Shabbat begins with the words: Shuva Yisrael - “Return, O Israel.”

The reading is taken from various places in Nach that express the essential teaching regarding the lofty notion of teshuva (return to God). The first and larger section of the haftorah is taken from the book of Hoshea. The eminent leader of the nation pleads with the tribes of Yehuda and BInyamin to turn back to Hashem and mend their ways. He warns them that if they do not return they will be punished in a similar way to their brethren who had been lost.

The Navi teaches the people that even the harshest of transgressions will be forgiven when we engage in teshuva. “Take words with yourselves”, he tells them. Meaning that one should offer to Hashem sincere words of regret and communicate to Him one’s desire to change and improve. Once teshuva is done sincerely the original bond of love will re-emerge in its full splendor.

We find in the prophet’s lofty words the imagery of a luscious garden and trees. These depict the Jewish people once they have returned to Hashem. Hashem will be to his people like ‘dew’ in contrast to rain, which is subject to cessation, dew is continuous.

The Jewish people are compared to the beauty of a rose. May the Almighty see our endless yearning and inner desire for closeness. Especially at this time, may the mercy of the Almighty be awakened and may the coming year bring us good health and happiness  - for all Am Yisrael and the world.

Rabbi Sacks
Ha’azinu 5780
The Arc of the Moral Universe
In majestic language, Moses breaks into song, investing his final testament to the Israelites with all the power and passion at his command. He begins dramatically but gently, calling heaven and earth to witness what he is about to say, words which are almost echoed in Portia’s speech in The Merchant of Venice, “The quality of mercy is not strained”.
Listen, you heavens, and I will speak;
Hear, you earth, the words of my mouth.
Let my teaching fall like rain
And my words descend like dew,
Like showers on new grass,
Like abundant rain on tender plants. ((Deut. 32:1-2)
But this is a mere prelude to the core message Moses wants to convey. It is the idea known as tzidduk ha-din, vindicating God’s justice. The way Moses puts it is this:
He is the Rock, His works are perfect,
And all His ways are just.
A faithful God who does no wrong,
Upright and just is He. ((Deut. 32:4)
This is a doctrine fundamental to Judaism and its understanding of evil and suffering in the world – a difficult but necessary doctrine. God is just. Why, then, do bad things happen?
Is He corrupt? No – the defect is in His children,
A crooked and perverse generation. (Deut. 32:5)
God requites good with good, evil with evil. When bad things happen to us, it is because we have been guilty of doing bad things ourselves. The fault lies not in our stars but within ourselves.
Moving into the prophetic mode, Moses foresees what he has already predicted, even before they have crossed the Jordan and entered the land. Throughout the book of Devarim he has been warning of the danger that in their land, once the hardships of the desert and the struggles of battle have been forgotten, the people will become comfortable and complacent. They will attribute their achievements to themselves and they will drift from their faith. When this happens, they will bring disaster on themselves:
Yeshurun grew fat and kicked –
You became fat, thick, gross –
They abandoned the God who made them
And scorned the Rock their Saviour …
You deserted the Rock, who fathered you;
And you forgot the God who gave you life. (Deut. 32:15-18)
This, the first use of the word Yeshurun in the Torah – from the root Yashar, upright – is deliberately ironic. Israel once knew what it was to be upright, but it will be led astray by a combination of affluence, security and assimilation to the ways of its neighbours. It will betray the terms of the covenant, and when that happens it will find that God is no longer with it. It will discover that history is a ravening wolf. Separated from the source of its strength, it will be overpowered by its enemies. All that the nation once enjoyed will be lost. This is a stark and terrifying message.
Yet Moses is bringing the Torah to a close with a theme that has been present from the beginning. God, Creator of the universe, made a world that is fundamentally good: the word that echoes seven times in the first chapter of Bereishit. It is humans, granted freewill as God’s image and likeness, who introduce evil into the world, and then suffer its consequences. Hence Moses’ insistence that when trouble and tragedy appear, we should search for the cause within ourselves, and not blame God. God is upright and just. The shortcomings are ours, His children’s, shortcomings.
This is perhaps the most difficult idea in the whole of Judaism. It is open to the simplest of objections, one that has sounded in almost every generation. If God is just, why do bad things happen to good people?
This is the question asked not by sceptics, doubters, but by the very heroes of faith. We hear it in Abraham’s plea, “Shall the Judge of all the earth not do justice?” We hear it in Moses’ challenge, “Why have You done evil to this people?” It sounds again in Jeremiah: “Lord, You are always right when I dispute with You. Yet I must plead my case before You: Why are the wicked so prosperous? Why are evil people so happy?” (Jer. 12:1).
It is an argument that never ceased. It continued through the rabbinic literature. It was heard again in the kinot, the laments, prompted by the persecution of Jews in the Middle Ages. It sounds in the literature produced in the wake of the Spanish expulsion, and it’s echoes continue to reverberate in memories of the Holocaust.
The Talmud says that of all the questions Moses asked God, this was the only one to which God did not give an answer. The simplest, deepest interpretation is given in Psalm 92, “The song of the Sabbath day.” Though “the wicked spring up like grass”, they will eventually be destroyed. The righteous, by contrast, “flourish like a palm tree and grow tall like a cedar in Lebanon.” Evil wins in the short term but never in the long. The wicked are like grass, whereas the righteous are more like trees. Grass grows overnight but it takes years for a tree to reach its full height. In the long run, tyrannies are defeated. Empires decline and fall. Goodness and rightness win the final battle. As Martin Luther King said in the spirit of the Psalm: “The arc of the moral universe is long, but it bends toward justice.”
It is a difficult belief, this commitment to seeing justice in history under the sovereignty of God. Yet consider the alternatives. There are three: The first is to say that there is no meaning in history whatsoever. Homo hominis lupus est, “Man is wolf to man”. As Thucydides said in the name of the Athenians: “The strong do as they want, the weak suffer what they must.” History is a Darwinian struggle to survive, and justice is no more than the name given to the will of the stronger party.
The second, about which I write in Not In God’s Name, is dualism, the idea that evil comes not from God but from an independent force: Satan, the Devil, the Antichrist, Lucifer, the Prince of Darkness, and the many other names given to the force that is not God but is opposed to Him and those who worship Him. This idea, which has surfaced in sectarian forms in each of the Abrahamic monotheisms, as well as in modern, secular totalitarianisms, is one of the most dangerous in all of history. It divides humanity into the unshakeably good and the irredeemably evil, giving rise to a long history of bloodshed and barbarism of the kind we see being enacted today in many parts of the world in the name of holy war against the greater and lesser Satan. This is dualism, not monotheism, and the Sages, who called it shtei reshuyot, “two powers or domains”, were right to reject it utterly.
The third alternative, debated extensively in the rabbinic literature, is to say that justice ultimately exists in the World to Come, in life after death. Although this is an essential element of Judaism, it is striking how relatively little Judaism had recourse to it, recognising that the central thrust of Tanach is on this world, and life before death. For it is here that we must work for justice, fairness, compassion, decency, the alleviation of poverty, and the perfection, as far as lies within our power, of society and our individual lives. Tanach almost never takes this option. God does not say to Jeremiah or Job that the answer to their question exists in heaven and they will see it as soon as they end their stay on earth. The passion for justice, so characteristic of Judaism, would dissipate entirely were this the only answer.
Difficult though Jewish faith is, it has had the effect through history of leading us to say: if bad things have happened, let us blame no one but ourselves, and let us labour to make them better. I believe it was this that led Jews, time and again, to emerge from tragedy, shaken, scarred, limping like Jacob after his encounter with the angel, yet resolved to begin again, to rededicate ourselves to our mission and faith, to ascribe our achievements to God and our defeats to ourselves.
I believe that out of such humility, a momentous strength is born.

Shabbat Shalom

Probing the Prophets Rabbi Nachman Winkler
Probing the Prophets
Shabbat Shuva
Parashat Ha’azinu
Ha’azinu hashamayim va’adabeira, v’tishma ha’aretz imrei fi”. This week’s parasha begins with Moshe Rabbainu calling on the heavens and earth to witness (and testify to) the truth of the words he will recite during this “Shirat Moshe”, ‘song’ of Moshe. These opening words echo that which Moshe said at the closing of the last parasha, perek 31, that this song will serve as a witness that the people had been warned of the inevitable punishments that would befall them if they abandon Hashem. Interestingly, at the end of parashat Nitzavim, in perek 30, Moshe again calls upon the heavens and earth to witness how Moshe had placed before the nation a choice of good and life or, c”v, evil and death, and urges the people to choose life.
I chose to begin this article about the haftarah by first discussing the parasha because the pesiqta (P'siqta Rabbati, is a collection of midrashim on the Torah and the Haftarot, composed around 845 CE)  comments makes a puzzling comment about the opening pasuk of the haftarah. The verse, taken from Sefer Hoshea, states: “Shuva Yisra’el ad Hashem E’lokecha,” and the P’siqta says the pasuk should be read as “Shuva Yisra’el EID Hashem E’lokecha,” that Hashem is your witness!!
HaRav Soloveitchik, in one of his essays (found in “On Repentance”), sees this somewhat curious statement of the P’siqta as a support to the view of the Rambam. Maimonides declares (Hilchot Teshuva 2;2) that true repentance is achieved when the sinner resolves in his heart never again to repeat the sin, and He who knows all that is hidden can indeed testify that this person will never again repeat that sin.
The Rav is quite troubled by this comment. Is it not a condition that the remorseful sinner will find almost impossible to fulfill? How can this be the demand of G-d on one who sincerely desires to do teshuva? And, if Hashem will testify that the sinner will never again sin-then what happens to the person’s freedom to choose how to act?
Rav Soloveitchik, therefore, turns to the Lechem Mishneh’s explanation of the Rambam’s words. The term “ya’id” that is used does not mean that G-d will testify that the sinner will never again sin throughout his life. Rather, the word ya’id can also be understood to mean to designate one as a witness, something Moshe Rabbeinu himself does at the end of the last parasha when he calls upon heaven and earth to be witnesses, to testify for Israel in the future. The Rambam’s meaning, therefore, is that the sinner himself designated Hashem to witness how sincere and whole-hearted is his intention to repent and not to sin.
We stand before Hashem during a most difficult time for us and all humankind. When we think back to last year when we stood before a wonderfully promising time, we never dreamed that travel would be curtailed, economies destroyed, leaders challenged and, yes, even sports events and concerts cancelled.  This was not the year we thought it would be. And this year as we stand before G-d we barely know what tomorrow will bring what to pray for.
So, perhaps we should heed the opening words of our haftarah and “Shuva Yisra’el….EID”, our tefillot should be based upon the knowledge that Hashem is listening and witnessing how sincere our prayers are. We should realize that what we pray for is less important than HOW we pray. A sincere tefilla becomes an impactive experience that can affect us throughout the year.
For this reason, we shouldn’t worry if we forget to pray for a specific something or someone. We should just pray deeply to Hashem and allow Him to “fill in the blanks” for us.
After all, when He witnesses that kind of tefilla how can He fail to respond?
Like Rain and Dew Rabbi Rosner
הַאֲזִינוּ הַשָּׁמַיִם, וַאֲדַבֵּרָה; וְתִשְׁמַע הָאָרֶץ, אִמְרֵי-פִי. יַעֲרֹף כַּמָּטָר לִקְחִי, תִּזַּל כַּטַּל אִמְרָתִי,  כִּשְׂעִירִם עֲלֵי-דֶשֶׁא, וְכִרְבִיבִים עֲלֵי-עֵשֶׂב.
(דברים לב:א-ב)
Listen, O heavens, and I will speak! And let the earth hear the words of my mouth!  My lesson will drip like rain; my word will flow like dew; like storm winds on vegetation and like raindrops on grass. (Devarim 32:1-2)
Moshe Rabbeinu states that his lesson is like rain and his word like dew. What is represented by rain, and what by dew?
The Hafetz Hayim posits that the the second pasuk in the parasha, corresponds to the first pasuk. The Written Torah is heavenly. It was dictated by Hashem to Moshe. The Oral Torah is more connected to earth. It is human clarification of the Written Torah.
The Written Torah is compared to rain. Both originate from the heavens. Like rain, the Written Torah is finite. There is a specific number of pesukim and a specific number of mitzvos. Similarly, rain is finite and discrete. One can place a bucket and catch all the rain that falls in a particular spot.
The Oral Torah is more like dew. Both originate from the earth. There is no way to count dew. It appears on the grass as a wet substance, not as drops. Similarly, the Oral Torah has no end. New commentaries are constantly being published.
We need to focus on both. The Written Torah is finite, yet how many of us can even name all 24 books of the Tanakh in the proper order, let alone have completed learning them all?  The Hafetz Haymim said that it is somewhat ironic that the written Torah, which is finite many have forgotten, while primarily focusing on that which is infinite, the Oral Law.  We need to commit ourselves to study both, the Written and Oral Torah.
Rav Yosef Nehemia Kornitzer looks at the surface on which the rain falls: grass. Moshe expresses the hope that his words to Bnei Yisrael fall like “raindrops on grass.” Couldn’t we use a more royal metaphor? Perhaps comparing the words of Torah to raindrops on a sweet smelling rose, or the fresh fruit blossoming on a tree? Why the reference specifically to raindrops on grass? Rav Kornitzer answers: Sometimes, our hearts are so closed up that nothing gets through. We must prepare our hearts to internalize certain messages. It is like a field that must be prepared properly to enable produce to grow. If one does not plow, plant seeds, and tend the field, nothing will grow, no matter how much it rains. There is only one thing that grows without preparation: grass. When it rains, grass sprouts on its own.
Moshe Rabbeinu knew that Klal Yisrael would not always be on a high level. There will be times when the bare minimum is all one can hope for. Even if Bnei Yisrael are not prepared or inspired, the Torah should positively affect them like raindrops cause grass to sprout.
This reminds us of a famous idea expressed by the Kotzker Rebbe. The Torah tells us
חֶסֶד וֶאֱמֶת, אַל-יַעַזְבֻךָ: קָשְׁרֵם עַל-גַּרְגְּרוֹתֶיךָ; כָּתְבֵם, עַל-לוּחַ לִבֶּךָ.  (משלי ג:ג)
“Kindness and truth shall not leave you; bind them upon your neck, inscribe them upon the tablet of your heart.”  (Mishle 3:3).
Why are we told to inscribe the words of Torah “upon the tablet of your heart” (al luach libecha) rather than “in your heart” “b’libecha)? The Kotzker Rebbe explains: Sometimes, we are not prepared to hear or accept something. In those instances, we need to place it on our heart, close to our heart, so that one day, when we are ready to open our heart, it will permeate.  Similar language is found in Kriyas Shema והיו הדברים אשר אנכי מצוך היום על לבבך.
Let the soul hear it, and eventually “the earth will hear”. It will break through. The Torah is compared to grass – so that at the very least it can have a slight impact without requiring abundant preparation from Am Yisrael.
As we usher in the new year, let us allow ourselves to open our hearts and minds and internalize the beautiful words of the Torah!

Rabbi Mischel

Testify!

Rav Chaim Ozer Grodzensky, zt’l, was the elder Gadol HaDor in Pre-War Europe, and was universally regarded as the greatest of sages.

Once, when Reb Dov Genechovsky was visiting the Chazon Ish, Rav Avraham Yeshaya Karelitz, zt’l, he noticed that the hat of the Chazon Ish seemed worn out, and offered to purchase a new one for him.

The Chazon Ish smiled in appreciation for the gesture, but turned down the suggestion:
“A hat that saw HaGaon Rav Chaim Ozer, zt”l, we don’t exchange so fast...”

~

Haazinu hashamayim — “Listen, O Heavens, and I will speak...” V’tishma haaretz imrei fi — “and let the earth hear the words of my mouth!” (Devarim, 32:1)

Calling upon Heaven and Earth as witnesses, our Parsha is Moshe Rabbeinu’s ‘swan song’ and final exhortation, urging us to do Teshuva. Rashi explains that in summoning “shamayim” and “aretz” to serve as witnesses to his final message, Moshe Rabbeinu is recognizing his mortality: “I am a man of flesh and blood, and tomorrow I will die. If Am Yisrael says, ‘We never accepted the covenant,’ who will come and refute them?” Shirat Haazinu directs our attention to the human condition with an explicit allusion to the temporal nature of man. Heaven and earth will exist long after we are gone, and while their testimony will endure forever, we do not.

The Gemara (Taanis, 11a) shares a similar message and warning: “Lest a person say, I have acted in secret; who will testify against me on the Day of Judgment?” The Tanna explains that avnei beiso v’koros beiso, “the stones and support beams of a person’s house will testify against him, as it is stated: ‘For a stone shall cry out from the wall, and a beam out of the timber shall answer it.’” (Chavakuk, 2:11).

Rabbi Nissan Mangel is a talmid chacham of renown, a Holocaust survivor, prolific author, and was commissioned by the Lubavitcher Rebbe to translate Sefer Tanya.
One of the major themes of Tanya, in Shaar haYichud v'haEmunah, is the Divine basis for all of Creation: anything that exists in this world or any world is enlivened and given existence by a Divine spark, an extension of Hashem Himself. Furthermore, Torah wisdom and Jewish consciousness see Creation as divided into four ‘kingdoms’ or realms of existence: 1) domem, ‘silent’, inanimate creations or the mineral kingdom 2) tzomeach, ‘things that grow’, or the vegetable kingdom, 3) chai, ‘living beings’ or the animal kingdom, and 4) medaber, ‘speaking beings’, or the human kingdom.

When it came to translating the kingdom of ‘domem’, Rabbi Mangel used the standard translation of "inanimate". When editing the manuscript, The Rebbe replaced "inanimate" with "silent", expressing the fact that even in the realm of ‘domem’, there is life, albeit an existence that is silent.

Still wanting to maintain a professional and classy style of writing, Rabbi Mangel kept the word "inanimate" and placed brackets around the word "silent". When the Rebbe reviewed the translation of Sefer Tanya for the final time, he changed Rabbi Mangel’s version once again, emphasizing "silent" as the primary translation, placing brackets around "inanimate".

The difference between these two words is not semantic. The Rebbe’s perspective reflects a deep awareness that everything in existence is alive, pulsating with Divine vitality, an expression of the Ribbono Shel Olam. Even that which seems to be lacking life — heaven, earth, the walls of our homes, or even an old hat — is awake and alive, even if seemingly silent.

This week is Shabbos Shuvah, the Shabbos of Returning. We await our judgement, once again looking over the way we lived during the past year and up until this moment.

Neither we, nor our hats, have seen Reb Chaim Ozer zt’l, but this year, approaching Yom Kipur, we may feel a bit worn out. However, there is no doubt that Heaven, Earth, and certainly the walls of our homes, can certainly testify that 5780 was a year of incredible sacrifice, extraordinary efforts in Yidishkeit and observance of Torah and mitzvos under very challenging circumstances.

This Yom Kipur, all of the Olamos, and all of Creation will bear witness that we have already been through enough, and that the time for our personal and collective Redemption has arrived. May we be inscribed in the Book of Life and the Living, together with Moshiach Tzidkeinu, this year!

Menachem Persoff
Give Ear to the Song
This week we read a song, although, in truth, the Torah itself is one all-embracing song. As Rabbi Jonathan Sacks recorded: When Moshe and Yehoshua were instructed to “write for yourselves this song,” the plain meaning referred to the song of “Ha’azinu” while following the Rambam, this is a directive to every Jew to write a Sefer Torah.
Either way, what is it about a song that its writing would represent the last act of Moshe? What is so particular to the song of Ha’azinu that it would reflect Moshe’s last testimony to the people he nurtured all those years?
For Rabbi Sacks, Ha’azinu, the song, represents our emotive aspect, through which we “express, evoke, and share emotion… Music is the map of the Jewish spirit.” Sometimes, as noted in the past, we do not have sufficient words to express our thoughts. We are confounded when standing before the Infinite One or when, like the author of “Ha’azinu,” we contemplate our mission in this world.
No wonder then, we let the Shofar cry out for us; we let the words of poetry spill out and spread downwards to the Earth and upwards towards Heaven. The American poet, Julius Schemmer wrote:
Poetry is the best form of medicine
Bringing hope to the weary and the sick
Revealing innermost thoughts
Of things left unsaid
Poetry is a song
Syllable by syllable
Verse by verse
Bringing forth the rhythm
Of life
Poetry is a journey
Of discovery in one’s self
Learning, growing, aspiring
All recorded in a poem.
***
Our poem “Ha’azinu” begins by invoking the Heaven and the Earth to give witness to the vicissitudes of Am Yisrael. As Israel Adler would describe the song: “Ha’azinu gives a florid allegorical depiction of the condition of the Jewish people.” And Rashi tells us that the permanence of Heaven and Earth is what makes these two realms perfect witnesses to our (ongoing) trials and tribulations.
It is interesting. One would expect that our witnesses would be in harmony with each other. But is it not true that Heaven and Earth represent two opposite dimensions, two ends of the spectrum? It appears that each, in its own way, will serve to portray its message.
Heaven is the spiritual sphere, the abode of the Divine throne, the domicile of angels in the higher spheres, the repository of the hidden secrets of this world, the source of the holy emanations that direct the universe. Earth, by contrast, is that dark, material entity where good and evil play out their roles through the eons of time.  Earth is where we, as the Chosen People, are to bring light to those dark areas, to fulfill the goals that God set for us on this planet, and to be partners in its redemption.
Einstein taught us that matter could be formed from energy and vice versa. In essence, however, the Torah taught us this notion in the very opening lines of the poem “Ha’azinu.” We are to give ear to both Heaven and Earth. We are to understand that there is not only a dialectical tension between these two dimensions but also that there is a beautiful dynamic interchange between them.
***
Tomer Almekayis talks of “Ha’azinu” as ‘a sublime mode of expression.’ “Ha’azinu” incorporates a view of the world that includes all of history from the “days of old” to the end of time. “Ha’azinu” treats of a perpetual life-cycle of the Jewish people, one of its significant attributes being that our behavior as the Chosen People affects how Hashem relates to us.
Heaven and Earth interact. And despite our errant behavior, Hakadosh Baruch Hu, the loving Father, will never totally abandon us. And that is what gives us, His earthy creatures, the hope and strength to return to Hashem, thus to bridge the gap between Heaven and Earth.
The New Old Path with Rabbi Benji Levy, CEO of Mosaic United
Ideals and Reality - Two Strands of One Thread

As we near the closing section of the Torah, Parashat Ha’azinu begins, ‘Give ear, O heavens, and I will speak; and may the earth hear the words of my mouth’ (Deut. 32:1). According to Rashi, when issuing warnings to Israel, Moses needs two witnesses, just like for any other warning in Jewish Law, and he appoints the heavens and the earth, as they will continue to bear testimony forever. Using a similar phrase, Isaiah, one of the later prophets, calls on the same two witnesses when exhorting the Jewish people, ‘Hear, O heavens, and give ear, O earth…’ (Isaiah 1:2).

Midrash Tanchuma picks up on a subtle difference between these two almost identical verses: Moses uses the term ‘Give ear [ha’azinu],’ listen, when addressing the heavens, and ‘Hear [tishma],’ when addressing the earth. Isaiah reverses the verbs, saying ‘Hear’ to the heavens, and ‘Give ear’ to the earth (Tanchuma, Ha’azinu 32:2).

Rabbi Akiva explains that Moses is comfortable dwelling in the heavens. He ascends twice to receive Torah directly from God.  The Torah refers to him as one who saw God’s face. He lives at the time when the Jewish people are at their highest state of spirituality, the giving of the Torah. Isaiah, by contrast, lives during an epoch of rebellion. His main experiences are those acquired from the physical world, in which he toils day and night.

This midrash teaches that ha’azinu is a term of closeness and familiarity, as listening is an active way of receiving someone else’s words. Tishma (hear) is more distant, a more passive act. Moses has a closer connection to the heavens, and Isaiah has a closer connection to the earth. When living a life of Torah, one must strive for a balance between these two spheres. Both Moses and Isaiah exemplify this, addressing both entities despite each being more familiar with one of them.

Perhaps the greatest Talmudic paradigm for this tug between the ideal and the more blurred reality is the ongoing debate between the House of Shammai and the House of Hillel.

When greeting a bride, the House of Shammai will directly let her know if she has presented herself well. The House of Shammai upholds truth as an absolute value, regardless of the impact it has on a person’s feelings, and this represents a life of unqualified ideals. The House of Hillel employs a softer, more real-world approach. Hillel teaches ways that the truth can be shaded in order to minimise embarrassment (BT, Tractate Ketubbot 17b).

When a man approaches the House of Shammai and asks to be taught the entire Torah while standing on one leg, the House of Shammai is appalled by the question, for to learn even a part of the Torah takes years of hard work. The House of Hillel, however, recognises the opportunity at hand. Not everyone has the valour to devote extensive periods of time to study Torah. All people, however, deserve to learn whatever Torah they have time for. The House of Hillel seizes the moment and teaches that individual one of the fundamental tenets of the Torah – do not do unto others as you would not want done to yourself, the rest is commentary, go and learn (BT, Tractate Shabbat 31a).

The Mishna in Tractate Avot teaches that one should ‘Raise many disciples’ in the realm of Torah (Mishna, Tractate Avot 1:1). The House of Shammai believes that due to the greatness of the Torah, disciples should be worthy, and thus only people of great integrity, humility and wisdom are included in this statement. The House of Hillel, however, acknowledges that reality is not always black and white (Avot DeRabbi Natan 2:9). Hillel’s view is that Torah should be accessible to every Jew.

Though a contemporary person may be shocked by the opinions of the House of Shammai, the Talmud nevertheless always includes this opinion when presenting debates of Jewish law and thought. The House of Shammai reminds us of the ideal towards which we should strive and warns us to take caution against allowing standards to degenerate.

According to tradition, when the Messiah comes halachic rulings will be made according to the House of Shammai, because at that time the world will be on a higher level (Rabbi Elchanan Wasserman, Kovetz Shiurim, part 2, p. 112). Rabbi Maurice Lamm states, ‘It will not be a new world, a qualitatively different world; rather, it will be this world brought to perfection.’

Though each individual’s personality may have a natural leaning towards either idealism or realism, we must each attempt to maintain equilibrium. Some act upon a ‘Shammai’ approach, ignoring the nuances of reality. However, in order to live in reality, some situations dictate concessions, departures from the ideal. Nevertheless, it is crucial to make sure that yesterday’s concessions do not become tomorrow’s standards.

The aim is to strike a balance between ideals and reality and to live a full and fulfilling life in the real world, while at the same time always maintaining the focus on Torah and Godly pursuits.

Stay in touch with @RabbiBenji and learn more at www.RabbiBenji.com

Torah 4 Teens by Teens NCSY Israel
Albert Katz
Modiin Chapter Director

From Galut to Geulah

שִׂימָ֣הּ בְּפִיהֶ֑ם לְמַ֨עַן תִּהְיֶה־לִּ֜י הַשִּׁירָ֥ה הַזֹּ֛את לְעֵ֖ד בִּבְנֵ֥י יִשְׂרָאֵֽל׃

In last week’s parsha we are told that there is something very significant about Shirat Haazinu. Throughout the Torah there is a theme that continuously repeats itself: Bnei Yisrael messes up, G-d gets angry, we do some version of Teshuva, and then this cycle repeats itself. This theme gets very frustrating for many of us! We find ourselves wondering how is it that the Jewish people continue messing up over and over again?! But in this week’s Parsha, Hashem finally tells us what we need in order to break out of this cycle. It is Shirat Haazinu. The Torah describes this song as a witness to Bnei Yisrael that will enable them to break out of this habit.

But what is so special about this song that it has this unique capability?

Rabbi David Fohrman points out how at first glance, we can learn from Haazinu that our actions are the reason Hashem’s presence feels like it has disappeared. But as Rabbi Fohrman points out, all this does is make us feel lousy inside! So, what are we supposed to do?

There are 2 parts to this song. First, Haazinu gives a description of the past and then it gives a description of the future. The purpose of this song according to Rabbi Fohrman is to enable the story of Parshat Hateshuva to come alive. Parsha Hateshuva speaks about how the people that suffer so much are also going to be the ones that participate in the ingathering of exiles. This was very true during the times of the establishment of the State of Israel and I believe it may be very true today as well. As things across the globe today are far from perfect, we should see the history of our nation as inspiration to realize that davka we have the potential to bring our redemption. It is specifically the people that go through hardship, that oftentimes have the most potential for growth.

Liat Sanders
12 Grade, Jerusalem
The power of a song

This Parsha is one of the most special parshiot in the entire Torah.
If you open up the Torah you can see that this Parsha is structured differently. There is a long column of words on each side and most of the Parsha is written as a song.

Moshe stands in front of Bnei Yisrael as they are about to enter Israel without him. For forty years he had been with them and guided them, but now he needs to leave them, and as we know, he is not allowed to enter Israel.

Moshe is worried about them, and wants to give them one last piece of advice. Instead of giving them a normal speech like always, he decides to talk to them through a song, giving over his message in a unique way.
He tells them to, “Believe, go by the Torah, and safeguard the mitzvot.”

This is a very interesting decision which makes us wonder why he chose to communicate in this way.

In my opinion he chose a song because it was easier for him to say his last goodbyes through a song and more importantly when people sing we tend to listen more. We want to listen more and automatically do. Singing is beautiful. I think Moshe knew that Bnei Yisrael would listen and have deeper intent if he made it into a song.

We can connect this idea to Judaism even today. Singing is a big part of being a Jew; we are always singing, that's how we pray and connect.

Moshe was able to express his love for Hahsem and His people through a song.
May we all be able to find depth of spirituality and connection to the Torah through the power of singing.

Shabbat shalom!

Rabbi Mann
Ask the Rabbi – Parashat Haazinu Shuva 81 (edited II)

Corona Policies and Clarifications for Yom Kippur

Question: We will review some practical issues for Yom Kippur that are likely to come up this year, in the shadow of Corona. Although local rabbis will address many of them and public policy may change, we assume our discussion will be helpful.

Answer: 1. Pushing oneself to daven with a minyan – Regarding most of the tefilla, the importance of being in shul is halachically not much greater on Yom Kippur than on Shabbat ( “Yud Gimel Middot,” which are most concentrated in Ne’ila, are the major additional thing that is missing). Certainly, one should not put himself (especially the elderly and other members of high-risk groups) and others at risk unwisely. To avoid that, we expect many small minyanim (hopefully in spacious, ventilated places). While people in high-risk groups should not daven in any minyan, except from their house or outside at a GREAT distance from others, regarding people of moderate risk, outdoor minyanim do have an advantage for those who fast well. If Yom Kippur will be a hot day and out-door minyanim may compromise one’s ability to complete the fast, it is obviously far more halachically important to fast than to daven with a minyan (see Shemirat Shabbat K’hilchata 39:28). It is more challenging to determine the correct plan when there is only a small chance that davening outside will cause one to break the fast. Many people’s best solution is to daven at an outdoor vatikin minyan, when it is rarely hot and easier to find shade (in addition to spiritual advantages). Minyanim would do best to shorten their length by eliminating Mi Sheberachs, skipping most piyutim, and doing less singing. (Singing is also a virus spreader, to an extent even with a mask on; humming, done with a mouth closed, is safer). A relatively short Mincha and Ne’ila can be done near day’s end, when it is cooler and easier to gauge how well one is fasting. Long-lasting indoor minyanim with air conditioning may not be the safest option, even if they apparently conform with official health guidelines (which do not eliminate danger, just lower it to a reasonable level for the average person; we can send links to scientific articles).
2. Tefillot to be omitted without a minyan – Besides standard devarim shebekedusha (e.g., Kedusha, Kri’at HaTorah, …), special omissions for Yom Kippur are: Kol Nidrei (for the public), the 13 Middot (with its introductory and concluding pieces), pieces recited by the chazan regarding himself.
3. Early Ne’ila – Some shuls will opt for consecutive minyanim in the same room. It is problematic to do Ne’ila before plag haMincha (see Beit Yosef, Orach Chayim 623; Ishei Yisrael 46:47). It is better to daven after plag haMincha without a minyan or to have the second minyan go past shekia into bein hashemashot (even better if chazarat hashatz starts before shekia). Regarding late Birkat Kohanim, see Living the Halachic Process, IV, D-2.
4. Washing with soap/cleansing with sanitizer – It is permitted to wash hands to remove dirt (Shulchan Aruch, OC 613:1). Removing germs is no less justified; only washing which can be broadly deemed as for enjoyment is forbidden. In a past column (Vayeilech 5776), we cited sources that sicha (applying oil) is forbidden even not for enjoyment (Yerushalmi, Yoma 8:1). We pointed out that sicha is when the substance is absorbed by the skin, whereas rechitza removes impurities from it, and that soap resembles rechitza. Sanitizer is on one hand, absorbed by the skin, but on the other hand, is never for enjoyment. Certainly, when it is clearly needed for hygiene, including during a pandemic even for healthy people, it is permitted (see Shulchan Aruch, OC 614:1, who permits applying oil for any truly medicinal purpose).
Many people will experience Yom Kippur this year in an unfamiliar way. Some will benefit from pursuing responsibly their normal means of inspiration. For others, there is value in making the most of the opportunity to serve Hashem in a different way, appropriate for the situation Hashem has presented. May the Yom Kippur of all be successful!

Laws of Yom Kippur
Erev Yom Kippur
•	Weekday Mincha includes Vidui which can be found in the Yom Kippur Machzor.
•	The seudah hamfsekes (pre-fast meal) should be eaten after Mincha.
•	It is customary to bless one’s children prior to Yom Kippur. The text can be found in the Machzor.
•	Those who normally wear a tallis and/or kittel should do so when davening at home. The beracha on the tallis should be recited before accepting Yom Kippur.
•	Those who recite Yizkor light a candle before Yom Kippur. Even those who don’t recite Yizkor should have a 25-hour candle lit in their home so it can be used for Havdalah.
•	There is a mitzvah of tosefes Yom Kippur which means that one should accept Yom Kippur and observe all of the prohibitions of Yom Kippur prior to sundown. As such, even those who don’t light candles should accept Yom Kippur at candle lighting.
•	It is customary to recite Tefillah Zakah (found in the Machzor) as a means of accepting Yom Kippur.
General Yom Kippur Davening Instructions
•	In each of the five tefillos (Ma’ariv, Shacharis, Musaf, Mincha and Neilah), Selichos are recited after the Silent Amidah. At Ma’ariv, it is a standalone Selichos and in the daytime, they are part of Chazaras HaShatz (Chazan’s repetition). When one is without a minyan, the Selichos may be recited, omitting the paragraphs containing the Thirteen Attributes (ה' ה' א-ל רחום וחנון—Most congregations only recite the Thirteen Attributes at Ma’ariv and Neilah).
•	There is a tradition to recite Vidui ten times over the course of Yom Kippur: five during each silent Amidah and five during the Selichos that follow each Amidah. As such, one davening without a minyan should prioritize Vidui (at least Ashamnu) in choosing which parts of Selichos to recite.
•	There are many beautiful piyutim that are recited in Chazaras HaShatz. These piyutim, together with their accompanying tunes may be recited when davening without a minyan Singing them or reciting them can greatly enhance one’s Yom Kippur davening.

Yom Kippur Night
•	Shehechiyanu (traditionally recited at the end of Kol Nidre) should be recited before Ma’ariv.
•	Ma’ariv for Yom Kippur with Vidui.
•	Selichos may be recited (see general instructions above).
•	Ma’ariv concludes with Avinu Malkeinu, L’David Mizmor, Aleinu, L’David HaShem Ori and Adon Olam.

Yom Kippur Day
Shacharis
•	On Yom Kippur, the שיר של יום and לדוד ה' אורי are recited at the beginning of davening. Shir HaYichud and Shir HaKavod are omitted when davening without a minyan.
•	Shir HaMa’alos is recited after Yishtabach.
•	Birchos Kerias Sh’ma for weekday (המאיר לארץ).
•	Shacharis Amidah for Yom Kippur with Vidui.
•	Selichos, Vidui and piyutim from Chazaras HaShatz may be recited after the silent Amidah (see general instructions above).
•	Avinu Malkeinu is recited at the conclusion of Shacharis.
•	The Torah reading is Vayikra 16:1-34, the maftir is Bamidbar 29:7-11 and the haftarah is Yeshaya 57:14-58:14.
•	Yizkor can be recited without a minyan. One should make sure to pledge money to tzedakah before reciting Yizkor.
•	Av HaRachamim should be recited (even if one does not recite Yizkor) followed by Ashrei.
Mussaf
•	Selichos, Vidui and piyutim from Chazaras HaShatz may be recited after the silent Amidah (see general instructions above). One should make an effort to recite ונתנה תוקף.
Mincha
•	Mincha should be recited sometime after Mincha Gedolah ( 1 pm) and leaving enough time to start Neilah before shekiyah (sunset) which is at 6:27 pm.
•	The Torah reading for Mincha is Vayikra 18:1-28 and the haftarah is Sefer Yonah.
•	Mincha Amidah for Yom Kippur with Vidui. Mincha concludes with Avinu Malkeinu.
Neilah
•	Neilah must begin before shekiyah (6:27 pm).
•	Neilah begins with Ashrei, U’Va L’Tzion followed by the Amidah. Please note the change in text of some of the insertions and the special text of Vidui.
•	Selichos, Vidui and piyutim from Chazaras HaShatz may be recited after the silent Amidah (see general instructions above).
•	Neilah concludes with a special Avinu Malkeinu followed by Sh’ma, Baruch Shem Kevod and HaShem Hu HaElokim.

Motzei Yom Kippur
•	Weekday Amidah should be recited including Atah Chonantanu.
•	Havdalah consists of three berachos: HaGafen, HaEsh and HaMavdil (no besamim). The beracha on fire can only be recited on a candle that was burning the entire Yom Kippur (נר ששבת). If one does not have such a candle, this beracha is omitted
•	The fast ends at 7:04 pm (Jerusalem)
•	Kiddush Levana is recited on Motzei Yom Kippur.

Rabbi Weinreb

“Do You Hear Voices?”

Do you ever hear voices?

I do, especially at this time of year.

It is now the period of time between Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur. This ten-day period is known as the ten days of Teshuvah, or repentance. During this time Jews become more contemplative, more serious, and more given to internal dialogue.

It is a time for each of us to look within, and to give special attention to those inner voices which call upon us to correct past mistakes, to redress past offenses, and to resolve to do better in the year to come.

When I say, “I hear voices at this time of year,” I am referring, of course, to those inner voices.

There is another voice, which can be heard at this time of year, although not many of us are sufficiently spiritually sensitive to hear it. It is the voice of God.

For you see, the Talmud tells us that this ten day period is especially propitious for seeking out the divine and for hearing His voice. This is a time when God is to be found, when he is very near.

Chassidim employ the following parable to explain this unusual theological phenomenon. Imagine, the parable goes, a king who spends most of his year isolated in his royal castle. It would be no wonder that he would wish to become more familiar with his people, and with what they were all about.

Imagine further, the parable continues, that he would decide to disguise himself in ordinary clothing and travel about the countryside, visiting the common folk and becoming acquainted with their lives, their problems, and especially what they really thought of their king.

And so the king, totally unidentifiable, wandered through the countryside and visited his constituency. The king was now close, extraordinarily close, to many of his countrymen. Few, if any, realized however, that it was the king who was wandering among them, and that he was accessible in a very unusual manner.

The Almighty himself now “wanders” among us, just as the king of the parable. During these ten days, the first ten days of the Jewish New Year, we have the opportunity to address Him in ways which were totally unavailable to us while He was in His royal castle, protected by guards and requiring appointments, usually impossible to obtain, often long in advance of when we needed them.

If we are aware of the presence of the Almighty in our midst, in this unique way, during this time of year, it is no wonder that we might just hear His divine voice.

And what would it say? What does the inner voice of our conscience say?

I think that these voices, divine or the better part of our human selves, have a threefold message; three messages that apply to every one of us, Jewish or non-Jewish, religious or otherwise.

The first message that I hear from the voice is a protest against my tendency, our tendency, to want gratification now. There is something within us that can't wait, that wants our pleasures now and our hopes realized immediately. But the inner spiritual voice, more clearly audible at this time of year, says, "Wait". This spiritual voice stresses the need to postpone gratification, to work long and hard toward distant objectives, to set long-term goals and to work toward them ambitiously. This voice transcends the present and orients us towards the future with an attitude of optimism and hope.

The second message objects to the word "me". It wants to counter the tendency we all have to be self-centered, to live a life based upon "me first". This second component of our inner voice encourages us to be concerned with others. To realize, as the sainted Rabbi Chaim of Volozhin writes,  that we are placed on this world not to fulfill our selfish needs, but to help others achieve their needs. The second message of the voice wishes to counter the culture of narcissism within which we find ourselves. It emphasizes charity, compassion, and social concern.

And the third message of the voice is such a simple one. It says, “Be happy". It recognizes our tendency toward depression, sadness, and despair. And it encourages us to celebrate life with joy, to cultivate that most important of biblical emotions, simcha. How succinctly, but how stirringly, the spiritual genius Nachman of Braslav put it: "It is a great mitzvah to be b'simcha, to be happy... always!"

These are the voices that I hear when I listen carefully during this time of year. Perhaps these voices are divine in origin. More likely they are simply being expressed by a part of me that intuitively knows what is right and how I should guide my life in the coming year.

But one thing is for certain: These voices are not auditory hallucinations. They are not signs of madness or insanity. They are signs of clarity and expressions of valuable inner truths.

I am sure, dear reader, that you too can hear these voices if you but allow yourselves to listen.

Do listen. Follow the messages of this inner voice. And enjoy each and every one of you, a happy and sweet, successful and peaceful New Year.

Rabbi Weitzman

The Kohen Gadol’s Prayer
What does the Kohen Gadol pray for when he enters the Kodesh Hakedoshim? What does he request when he enters the Holy of Holies as part of his Yom Kippur service? What message does he convey from the Jewish people to the Almighty?
His time is limited, as he does not want to keep the people waiting, and raise concerns that he has met his death in this most sacred of places on this sanctified day. He must choose his words wisely and contemplate the significance of each entreaty, each request, each supplication. Towards the conclusion of his pleas he asks God to ensure that no woman should miscarry. Out of all of the potential prayers, this is what he asks for.
The Gaon of Vilna explains our daily prayer, “that we should not struggle in vain, nor give birth to futility”, that there are two types of fertility challenges. Some find it hard to get pregnant – their struggle to have children should not be in vain. Another type of fertility challenge is maintaining a pregnancy; this latter group experiences the pain of giving birth “to futility”. Their pregnancy ends prematurely and they are left with pain, lacking and sorrow, but no child.
It is this second type of grief that the Kohen Gadol mentions in his prayer. We have prayed for children and spoken of the importance of pregnancy and birth throughout Rosh Hashana. We now turn to face those who suffer miscarriage.
One miscarriage can be a tragedy, but it is not a rare occurrence. However, some couples face recurrent miscarriages and their hopes and dreams for a successful pregnancy are broken time and again, as they miscarry numerous pregnancies.
The Kohen Gadol prayed for peace, sustenance, health and that women should not miscarry. He asked God to heal this pain and his prayer is a message for us as well. We need to recognize the pain and anguish of the couples who experience miscarriage, who come home from the hospital with no baby, no mazal tov wishes, just pain. We need to make sure that as a community we take care of them and empathize with them.
In addition, says the Gaon of Vilna, we can see this as a parable for all our lives. We pray to God that we should be successful and that when we make the effort in important pursuits we will find success and accomplishment.
We must learn the message of the Cohen Gadol’s prayer- to feel the other’s pain and to ask God for success in all that we do.
Shanah Tovah.

Rabbi Moshe Taragin

The color of Teshuva
Evidently sin has a color!! Yeshaya encourages us to perform teshuva by whitening the "red" in our lives: “If your sins are like scarlet whiten them like snow; if they are crimson red, wash them as white wool." Red is the "color of sin"- it evokes passion and blood, and is also visible from afar. Part of the mortification of sin is the embarrassment that others perceive our shortcomings. It's difficult to conceal the scarlet letter!
By contrast, white is the color of teshuva, as it suggests a return to a more primitive state of native purity. In urging us to “whiten” our souls, Yeshaya employs two metaphors: snow and laundered wool. How do these two metaphors capture the experience of teshuva?
Laundering clothing underscores that teshuva is an incremental process stretched across our entire lifetimes. Often teshuva is exasperating becomes it feel duplicitous; aware that so many teshuva pledges will fade, we feel two-faced. Recidivism is, sadly, part of human behavior and this indisputability haunts our teshuva. Indeed, sometimes teshuva launches dramatic and long term overhaul, but, often, our sincere plans for change fail in the face of long-bred habits. Often we feel trapped in a harsh cycle of teshuva, failure, and subsequent teshuva; this can dispirit us and often deflates the process of teshuva before it ever begins. No one wants to feel like a hypocrite!

One response to this trap is the realization that teshuva is a life-long project. Even if we regress, our negative habits have been softened, our religious sensitivity heightened, and our recoverability augmented. The next round of teshuva should be easier and hopefully more successful. This "incremental" effect of teshuva is highlighted by the metaphor of laundered wool: cleansed wool will inevitably be dirtied again; however, the initial laundering will facilitate subsequent rounds of laundering. Even if our sins resurface down the line they are more easily tackled after previous routines of teshuva. Snow falls and melts and one snowfall doesn’t always augment a future accumulation. Cleansing wool carries long term impact even after the wool is re-soiled.

The teshuva of snowfall isn’t incremental, but it is superior to the teshuva of wool in two aspects. Laundering wool requires exertion and human labor – especially in an era before washing machines. Without question, teshuva requires exceptional emotional effort: the honesty to admit failure, the wisdom to plan recovery strategies and the courage to commit to a different lifestyle. Teshuva entails the boldest implementation of our bechitah chufshit or freedom of choice. For this reason, the Rambam pivots his section of Hilchot Teshuva upon the principle of unlimited freedom of choice. Successful teshuva is an extraordinary expression of religious will and courage- much like scrubbing dirty linens, it requires much emotional scouring.
By contrast, snow coats our world "effortlessly" through Divine action. As much as teshuva is centered upon human struggle, it is also assisted by G-d. We invite G-d into the process of teshuva: we ask him to sprinkle waters of purity upon us and even to serve as our mikvah. We ask him to remove our emotional callousness – even though we are commanded to perform that act ourselves. We ask him to help us daven, just as he led the first documented tefillah of the 13 middot of His mercy in the empty desert. We ask him to help clear our minds, open our hearts and, furthermore, we expect Him to walk us through the dark and confusing forest of sin. By comparing teshuva to snowfall, Yeshaya reminds us to invite Hashem into the process of teshuva rather than shouldering this immense burden on our own. 

Secondly, snow is different from laundered wool in that no color transformation has actually occurred. Dirtied wool is black or brown, and, through laundering, its color transforms into white. By contrast, snow doesn’t alter color - it merely carpets the ground with a white plate. The land underneath hasn’t been converted, yet the surface appears pure and undisturbed. Ideally, we all strive for transformational teshuva –which reforms behavior, eliminates sin, and prompts character metamorphosis. However, teshuva comes in many varieties and sometimes we must be satisfied with partial teshuva or teshuva she'einah gemurah- even as we dream of perfect teshuva of teshuva gemurah. One form of partial teshuva is to ‘cover' our failures with our great love for G-d, just as snow covers the landscape. Self-improvement is crucial to any successful relationship, but sometimes, in a relationship, we ignore differences and irritants because of our deep love. Teshuva is an opportunity for personal introspection, but also a chance to celebrate and bolster the great love between G-d and his devoted people. On Yom Kippur we don’t only seek to launder our sullied personalities; we also expect snowfall- we hope that our love for G-d will cover up many of our misconducts.
Laundering wool and snowfall present two very different imageries of teshuva. Laundering wool reminds us that teshuva is incremental and a lifelong process. Snowfall reminds us of the Divine role within the teshuva process, but also comforts us: even if we can't transform, we can ask G-d to love us as we are and despite our limits.
Finally, both snowfall and laundered wool depict an important aspect of teshuva- the need to broaden the process. Typically, teshuva is a 'detailed' religious inventory inspecting and hopefully improving particular aspects of our lifestyles. A superficial inspection of our lifestyle will "miss" important dark spots and cripple our teshuva. However, though this micro-analysis is vital to teshuva, the process must be stretched beyond specific actions and particular sins.
Teshuva must address the entirely of our lives not just the sins and betrayals. Just as no one would launder a single strand of wool, teshuva must cleanse the entire "garment" of our personalities. Ideal teshuva demands systemic character transformation: Can we alter our middot? Can we adjust our views and opinions and better calibrate them to Torah values? Can we become more sensitive, more honest, more selfless, more idealistic, more courageous, and more compassionate people? Can we clean our "wardrobe" and clothing and not just whiten an individual strand of wool?
Just as "white wool" extends teshuva, similarly "snow" stretches the process. Snow doesn’t fall on a particular patch of land but covers an entire region and a broad topography. Teshuva obligates us to consider the state of the entire world and not just our own small cubicle. The world itself is in need of change and spiritual advancement and our particular teshuva contributes to this global saga- the drive of humanity and of the entire universe back toward G-d. Can we look out across a world- a world which is clearly broken- and imagine a better world, more spiritual, more communal, less hostile and less polarized? Can we pray for snow to fall upon humanity and heal it? On Yom Kippur can we imagine snowflakes wafting to this broken world and carpeting it with a radiant gleam?
Zemira Ozarowski

Though most of the piyutim will be skipped this Yom Kippur due to corona constraints, the piyut of ונתנה תוקף (which we also say on Rosh Hashana) will surely be kept in, as it really defines for us the essence of the day. The Chazan starts out by announcing in a very dramatic voice –   קְדֻשַּׁת הַיּוֹם כִּי הוּא נוֹרָא וְאָיֹם  ּונתַנֶּה תֹּקֶף– this is a most important and scary day.
אֱמֶת כִּי אַתָּה הוּא דַּיָּן וּמוֹכִיחַ וְיוֹדֵעַ וָעֵדו ְכוֹתֵב וְחוֹתֵם וְסוֹפֵר וּמוֹנֶה וְתִזְכֹּר כָּל הַנִּשְׁכָּחוֹת וְתִפְתַּח אֶת סֵפֶר הַזִּכְרוֹנוֹת וּמֵאֵלָיו יִקָּרֵא
In this Tefilla, we paint in very real and tangible terms what is happening behind the scenes.  We picture Hashem (in whatever way we can) putting on His judge's cap, opening up and reading from His ספר הזכרונות, His accounting book of memories, in which He has meticulously recorded every single action we've done over the course of the year.  Sometimes it is hard for us to really feel that we are being judged, because after all, we are not in a courtroom and we can’t see the judge or the lawyers. Everything is very abstract. So the Chazan has to take a moment to illustrate the scene for us.
We then go on to say חותם יד כל אדם בו – every single one of our signatures are signed in that accounting book! We can’t argue with anything written in that book, we can’t plead innocence, because we ourselves have already signed that we indeed committed everything recorded there!
וּבְשׁוֹפָר גָּדוֹל יִתָּקַע וְקוֹל דְּמָמָה דַקָּה יִשָׁמַע וּמַלְאָכִים יֵחָפֵזוּן וְחִיל וּרְעָדָה יֹאחֵזוּן
Rav Soloveitchik explains that a shofar will be blasted and all of our false illusions will smash into pieces as we recognize ourselves for who we really are and stare at our faults head-on. We, and the malachim appointed in our defense, will be overwhelmed with a feeling of חיל ורעדה, trembling and terror, as we come to the realization הנה יום הדין it is the day of judgement, and we have nothing to say in our defense! כי לא יזכו בעיניך בדין, there's no natural way that we can possibly come out innocent.

The Chazan continues – כל באי עולם יעברון לפניך כבני מרון Every single person will pass before Hashem like bnei maron. What are bnei maron?  There are three explanations given in Gemara Rosh Hashana 18a –
1. מרון is based on the Aramaic word אימרנרא which means sheep. Rashi explains that when the farmers would count out how many sheep to separate as maaser, they would have the sheep go through a small opening, one at a time, so they could count the sheep accurately,
2. מרון is referring to the city of Meron. Rashi explains that when people would travel to Meron, they had to climb up through a very narrow path in order to get there. This path was so narrow that only one person could fit through at a time.
3. מרון refers to the חיילות של בית דוד, to the soldiers in Dovid's army who were counted one by one every time they went out to war.
At first glance, when you look at these three explanations, they seem to be three different ways of getting to the same conclusion – each person will walk before Hashem individually (like each sheep, like travelers on the way to Meron, and like the soldiers as they go to war) and be judged one at a time.
But on further analysis, there is actually a very big difference between the three.
The first explanation means that we are being judged like sheep. As human beings, we often act with a “herd mentality’ in which we simply follow the herd, doing whatever everyone else is doing. Unfortunately, this can also affect our Avodat Hashem, causing us to act in a certain way not because we think it's right or wrong, but because that's what everyone else around us is doing. We are all very “united” but have lost all sense of individuality. Rav Soloveichik says that we ask Hashem to therefore judge us like sheep – to recognize that in some ways, we have the intelligence level of sheep, we don't always know how to think for ourselves, so we ask Hashem to please have rachamim on us.
In the second approach, we are behaving like individual travelers. We are each trying to push forward as fast as we can on our individual paths to Meron. We don't care about the other travelers, we just care about accomplishing our own personal goals. Hashem here judges us as individuals. How are we faring on our own distinct paths? On this level, we think for ourselves and shape our own paths, but unfortunately, there is no unity and cooperation between people.
According to the third approach, the ideal approach, we are judged as an army in which yes, we are each judged and counted individually, but ultimately, we are all on the same team, and all part of the same army. Hashem looks at what unique role we play in that army and judges us in that sense, but at the same time, He looks at the army as a whole, and judges us based on how we function and perform together as a team, with one common goal.
Though we started off the paragraph with scary thoughts of how it is virtually impossible that we will come out innocent, we end off with beautiful imagery of Hashem as a shepherd who lovingly counts his sheep ותפקוד נפש כל חי and examines each one's soul from all sides, trying to find a way to judge each one favorable ותחתוך קצבה לכל בריותך and only then apportions what He feels each individual needs for the coming year.
We continue with the awe-inspiring words of בראש השנה תכתבון וביום צום כפור יחתמון. Hashem wrote down our verdict on Rosh Hashana and now, on Yom Kippur, He will sign that verdict. And we go through all of the different decrees Hashem is deciding upon at this point, words which are always chilling, but somehow even more real and poignant this year – who will live and who will die, who will die at the end of his lifespan and who will die early, who will die by other means and who will die by plague and sickness, who will have a calm year and who will suffer. Somehow, I don't think there will be a dry eye as the congregation (however big or small it might be) recites these words this year, as we recall all those who said these words last year without realizing just how much they might affect them personally.
We somehow conclude though on a positive note, as the congregation cries out – all is not lost, it's not all bad. ותשובה ותפילה וצדקה מעבירין את רע הגזירה Despite the fact, that on the books, we are all guilty and should be given a bad decree, Hashem is ready and waiting for a reason to overturn those decrees. All we need is a few moments of real thoughts of Teshuva, a few minutes of tear-filled Tefillot, a decision to deal kindly with others and Hashem will be thrilled to tip the scales and seal us for a good year ahead. כי לא תחפוץ במות המת כי אם בשובו מדרכו וחיה Unlike a regular judge, Hashem is not looking to punish us for our misdeeds, rather His most sincere desire is for us to do Teshuva, to get on the right track, and to be forgiven.
May we all take these words to heart, call out to Hashem in real teshuva, and be inscribed for a year of health and bracha!
Rebbetzin Shira Smiles

Its beauty is striking, its smell exhilarating. The etrog carries deep meaning and valuable lessons. Let us explore the profound message of this special fruit that we are commanded to take as part of the arba minim on Sukkot and apply its directive to our lives.

Rabbeinu Bechaye maintains that the etrog was the fruit that Adam Harishon ate; taking it on Sukkot as part of a mitzvah forms a tikkun for this sin.

Rav Shapira in Chazon Lamoed explains a deeper significance in this idea. The root of Adam’s sin lay in using his own power of reasoning and neglecting to have complete obedience to Hashem.  He contended that eating from the tree would be an ‘aveirah leshmah’, although he would be defying the word of Hashem he felt it would create a greater kevod shamayim in the world.  Adam’s rationale mirrored that of the ground on the third day of Creation. On that day, contrary to Hashem’s command, the ground produced trees whose bark did not taste like the fruit of the trees. The trees asserted that if the bark tasted like the fruit people would cut down trees to eat the bark and there would be a shortage of trees. The one tree that fully obeyed Hashem’s instruction was the etrog tree, whose bark and fruit had a similar taste.  This tree was the ‘etz hadaat’, as the Rosh explains, that should have been a model for Adam to follow Hashem’s will unconditionally.

In light of this insight we can understand the segulah quoted by the Yaffe La’levav for women who have difficulty in labor to eat (or bite off the pitom) of an etrog used for the mitzvah of arba minim. The pain and suffering of labor and childbirth is included in Chava’s punishment for eating this fruit.  When one takes an etrog and uses it as a tikkun for this sin, the etrog then becomes a protection from the fallout of the sin.
The gemara (Shabbat 88b) notes that by saying “naaseh venishmah” in acceptance of the Torah, the Jewish people likened themselves to the ‘tapuach’ tree whose fruit appears before its leaves.  Tosafot comments that the ‘tapuach’ is a reference to the etrog tree.  At Har Sinai the Jews returned to the high spiritual level of Adam before he sinned; they once again had the quality of the etrog tree, complete ‘temimut’ with Hashem, following His ways without question.  This level was reduced by the sin of the Golden Calf.  In a certain respect, this sin was similar to the sin of Adam. The Beit Halevi explains that Am Yisrael wanted to create a medium for Hashem’s Presence to rest in this world since Moshe Rabbeinu had left. Their fault lay in making their own calculation to create a way of serving Hashem, yet it was contrary to Hashem’s will.

Thus we can appreciate the Mishna Berurah’s (quoting the Ari z’l) mention of the minhag to bentsch lulav and etrog in the sukkah. We take an etrog that symbolizes the tree that was obedient to Hashem, and do a mitzvah with it in the sukkah, the place that reminds us of the Jews’ faithful sojourn in the desert, how they followed Hashem unquestionably; “lechtech acharai bamidbar beeretz lo zarua”.

Sukkot, a tikkun for the sin of Adam and the sin of the Golden Calf, is a time for ‘temimut’. On Sukkot, we take the etrog, the model of complete compliance to Hashem’s word and use it as part of a mitzvah, inspiring us to follow Hashem’s will unconditionally. As we shake the arba minim in all directions, we remind ourselves to crown Hashem as King in all areas of our lives; living a life of ‘temimut.’

Rabbi Shor

One of my favorite times of year are the few days leading up to the Yom Tov of Sukkot.

Sukkot is also referred to as z’man simchateinu, the time of our joy. There are two primary rituals associated with the holiday of Sukkot, which contribute in some way to distinguish this festival as the ‘time of our joy;’ specifically to dwell in the Sukka  and the joining together of the arba minim- the four species.

For me, the few days leading up to Sukkot are particularly meaningful. For many years, I had the good fortune to assist in the selection of the finest, most beautiful sets of arba minim for members of my hometown synagogue. There is something indescribable, almost magical when you find that perfect etrog for Mr. Goldstein, or that lulav that seems to call out Mr. Simon’s name!  Of course for the past several years, I have also tried to be available to assist our friends here in Yerushalayim in the selection of etrogim and lulavim from the Shuk Arba Minim we have traditionally held here at the OU Israel Center, which sadly we will miss out on during this most unusual year.

Obviously, when I share these sentiments with people, often they look at me a little funny. What exactly is it about the arba minim- the four species, that speaks to me so vividly? What exactly are we to learn, experience, and feel while performing this seemingly odd mitzva- of holding together a lulav (palm frond), an etrog (citron- a citrus fruit indigenous to the Mediterranean area), hadassim(myrtle branches) and aravot (willow branches)?

In Parshat Emor (Vayikra 23:40) we read; “Ulekachtem lachem bayom harishon, pri eitz hadar, kapot temarim, va’anaf eitz avot, v’arvei nachal, usmachtem lifnei Hashem Elokeichem, shivat yamim.” “And you shall take, yourself, on the first day (of the festival) the fruit of the beautiful tree, palm fronds, boughs from thick trees, and willows of the brook, and you shall rejoice before the Lord your G-d for seven days.”

There are many, many questions that can be asked about this one simple verse, but I’d like to focus on one specific question. Why the apparent redundancy- “Ulekachtem, lachem- And you shall take, yourself...?”

Our Chazal in Masechet Sukka, explain the verse to teach us that the arba minim should ideally belong to the person wishing to fulfill the mitzva, thus excluding a borrowed or stolen set of the four species as a valid option.

Many of the Chasidic Masters suggest that the verse is teaching us that there is actually room within this mitzva for subjectivity and individuality; that Mr. Schwartz might find an oval shaped, bumpy bright yellow etrog to be most beautiful, while Mr. Levy is more concerned that his lulav be somewhat shorter, so that his grandchildren may have an easier time carrying it to the synagogue with him.

We must select and take from the four species in a way that most resonates with our own individual senses and needs. Rav Moshe Wolfson,shlita, in his beautiful work Emunat Etecha, explains that the four species are meant to represent the four letter name of G-d.

Rav Wolfson explains further:

‘Perhaps the verse also means join yourself to the four species, allow the depth of your soul to connect, to become one with the divine.’

The mitzva  of the arba minim thus becomes a paradigm for how ideally we need to view each and every mitzva- as opportunities to manifest our relationship with G-d, within the physical reality that is the world we live in. Perhaps then we can understand the second part of the verse as well: “usmachtem lifnei Hashem ... “And you shall rejoice before G-d...”

In the words of Rebbe Levi Yitzchak of Berditchev zy'a-“What greater joy could there be, then to feel the existential pull of the Divine Spark?”

The beautiful lesson inherent in  the mitzva of the arba minim, is that each one of us in our own unique way has the ability to become one with G-d, has the capacity to find our own unique path, to what Reb Levi Yitzchak calls the “great joy of the existential pull of the divine...”

Yehi Ratzon, may each of us be blessed to feel that great joy this yom tov, and each and every day.....Chag Sameach!

Rabbi Moshe Bloom

Eating an Etrog and the  Segula for an easy childbirth :
Eating the etrog
We see that the etrog was commonly eaten in the times of the Mishna and Talmud. The Mishna (Sukka 4:7) tells us that on Hoshana Raba, after having performed the mitzva of taking the arba minim for the last time and beating the aravot, "מִיַּד הַתִּינוֹקוֹת שׁוֹמְטִין אֶת לוּלְבֵיהֶן וְאוֹכְלִין אֶתְרוֹגֵיהֶן" - "Immediately, the children would throw away their lulavim and eat their citrons." In the Gemara in Kiddushin (70a), R' Nachman suggests that R' Yehuda eat his etrog. It is pretty clear that the etrog was the first and most prominent citrus fruit in the Middle East.
The Gemara cites certain medicinal qualities of the etrog (Shabbat 109b), saying that eating a sweet etrog filled with honey is an antidote to poisonous snake bites. The Rambam writes that "the etrog peel strengthens the heart and its seeds serve as an antidote to poisons" (Pirkei Moshe Barefu'a).
Segula for an easy childbirth
Today there is a popular segula for an easy childbirth of eating etrog jam made from etrogim used for the arba minim, especially when great rabbis made a beracha on them. This segula is ascribed to Rabbi Rachamim Nissim Yitzchak Palagi (c. 1813-1907; Izmir, Turkey), son of the renowned Rabbi Chaim Palagi. The segula is associated with the opinion that the Tree of Knowledge was an etrog tree, and after Chava ate from it she was cursed with painful childbirth. It follows that eating an etrog that was used for a mitzva and blessed (especially by great rabbis) on Sukkot, and thereafter undergoes a sweetening process to turn it into jam, serves as a rectification for Chava's sin and can help ease childbirth.

Sivan Rahav Meir

8 Thoughts Under the S'chach

1.	Freedom

Sukkot is the chag of Faith. We leave our homes, we don’t know what the weather will be, and we feel just like Bnei Yisrael in the desert, under G-d's wing. This year we understand this more than ever. Since Purim we have been participating in a "Sukkot Workshop" – relax, let go, understand you're not in charge. Lockdown and quarantine, no shul, none of our regular frameworks, schools, shows… our beloved routine. This year it's easier for us to relate to the chag, and fulfil the wonderful pasuk in Tehillim: הרפו ודעו כי אנוכי אלוקים – 'chill out' and know that I am G-d.

2.	Between Yom Kippur and Sukkot

We tend to think the highlight of the chagim is Yom Kippur, Neilah, and then we come back down to earth. But no, the peak is now. To fast all day like angels is not the ideal. There's something even higher, and it's called Sukkot.

Yes, the holiday with the wood and the nails and the sheets and the branches. Yom Kippur is only one day, when everything stops. The aim is to draw strength from it for the other 364 days of the year. To take the messages and energy of this special day into our lives, into nature, into the world. Thus writes Rav Kook: "Those days between Yom Kippur and Sukkot were given to educate us about returning to the matters of this world." In other words, one needs to build a sukkah. One needs to go to the market to buy arba minim, and yes, there are family meals that need to address everyone's preferences and dislikes, and yes, sometimes the noise from the neighbor's sukkah is annoying, and yes, you need to juggle all the kids, etc. But when you take what you've gleaned from Elul, Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur, and apply them to all these seemingly mundane assignments… that's the ideal. Life itself.

3.	Family

These are very much family-oriented days. Here's one idea, from the well-known Israeli parenting counselor, Ziva Meir (who also happens to be my mother-in-law): "Notice that many of the most moving songs in the world are about "Mother." In all styles. In all languages. "Umi" in Arabic, "Mama" in Yiddish, everyone worships Mommy. How did Deborah the Prophetess say it? "Until I, Deborah, arose, I arose as a mother in Israel." אם בישראל, a mother in Israel, is a concept. A Jewish mother should be proud of who she is. She does not need to put herself down. Mom has often become a focus of guilt. We blame her for anything that's not okay – we blame her for her impatience in the evening after being with the kids all day, or we blame her when there's no food in the fridge. Or we just blame her for the sake of blaming…

Mothers! At this time of year, find out who you really are. Don't follow the external needs of others but connect to yourselves. After all, the world is lying to us all the time: at work, it's easy to glean compliments and at home, you can work hard all day every day and after all your effort, your child can give you a generous mouthful of chutzpah. Outside you receive feedback and praise, inside everyone is not always happy. Your work is sacred but not appreciated: why keep the house in order if it's just going to be chaos again tomorrow?

So we all blame the mothers and they blame themselves. Who can correct this? The mothers themselves. "Eim BeYisrael" – mothers need to value themselves and what they do. They're full of self-criticism, taking on more and more assignments and constantly frustrated and unhappy. I urge them to connect inwards, give themselves a pat on the back for being who they are and doing what's right for them. Do that from the inside and everything outside will change as well."

4.	Know to Differentiate

On Shabbat during Sukkot we read Megillat Kohelet. In our crazy times, the profound words of Shlomo HaMelech carry a lot of significance: "Everything has its season and there is time for everything under the Heaven: a time to give birth and a time to die, a time to plant and a time to uproot… a time to cry and a time to laugh, a time to eulogize and a time to dance… a time to hug and a time to avoid hugs…"

In our confusing reality, we try to do everything at once. Career and family and marriage and relationships and studies and hundreds of WhatsApp messages in between all that. Kohelet reminds us of a simple truth: one needs time for everything. Stop creating chaos in your reality. There are times for that, and there are other times. There's permitted and forbidden, right and wrong, and it's important to discern the difference and be cognizant of what you're doing and when. For each area of our lives to blossom and flourish we need to learn to differentiate and distinguish between what's important and what's more important.

5.	Arba Minim

Here's a short piece by Rav Erez Moshe Doron on the arba minim, which reminds us of the significance of the lulav, etrog, hadas and arava. He expands on the famous symbolism of each of the species representing a different type of Jew:

"As we know, the arba minim symbolizes unity, but it's not only the unity of different parts of the people, but unity within us – unity between all the parts and all the situations Jewish souls can possibly encounter. Each one of us could be a rasha or a tzaddik. And what is our call as we shake the arba minim? First, connect to Am Yisrael. It doesn't matter who you are or what you've done or do, you have a connection too; you can come closer to being a tzaddik as well. Second, it's not only "connect" but also "wake up!": we are shaking the arba minim to the four corners of the earth and up and down, and the message is: whoever, whatever, wherever you've been thrown or fallen, do not despair. You can come back and come closer from absolutely anywhere in the world."

6.	Ushpizin

The Ushpizin, the guests we invite into our sukkot, are seven fathers of the nation – Avraham, Yitzchak, Ya'akov, Yosef, Moshe, Aharon and David. There are many profound and kabbalistic explanations for this custom, but in "Be'er Miriam," I found an historic reason I've never thought of before: our national fathers were largely nomads. Avraham left his birthplace and came to Israel, and then to Egypt, and back. Yitzchak went to the land of the Philistines during the famine, and then to the western Negev, to Beer Sheva and Chevron. Ya'akov fled to Charan, returned to Cana'an, and emigrated to Egypt. Yosef was sold as a slave, Moshe and Aharon wandered for 40 years in the desert and Moshe had already been in Egypt as a child. David too fled from Shaul and Avshalom.

Their lives were lives of sukkah, not of permanent homes. They well understood how much the permanent reality is transient, and how much flexibility, faith and creativity one needs in life. And, despite all the inconveniences and troubles mentioned here, each one of our ancestors built himself up and led and educated. We too can take our circumstances and become better people. That's another thing to think about in your sukkah.

7.	Simcha

You can't miss it. Simcha is supposed to be the central element of Sukkot – ושמחת בחגך והיית אך שמח – and you shall rejoice in your holiday… and you shall just be happy. The Rambam tells us that in Jerusalem on Sukkot there was "excess simcha" and writes that simcha on Sukkot is a "great service [of G-d]," while in our siddurim Sukkot is referred to as זמן שמחתינו, the time of our joy.

So what's the connection between joy and Sukkot? The big test in our times – generally – is not one of poverty but of wealth. Not of lack but of plenty. Nevertheless, most of us are not content. Chag HaSukkot offers an alternative: we leave our comfortable homes for a shaky hut, which reminds us of the wanderings in the desert. That's how our ancestors lived. And it is precisely out of this minimalism and simplicity we remember the great historical story and everything we've been through. We look at nature anew (s'chach, lulav, etrog, etc.), and renew our bonds with our families and community during this week of celebration. We learn to appreciate everything we have around us all year long… and be happy.

8.	Starting Over

Meals, dancing, candy bags, laundry, and suddenly, we're starting over again. The Shabbat after Simchat Torah is Shabbat Bereishit, on which we read the first parasha of the Torah again. Yet we notice something intriguing: the Torah does not spend too much time on the Creation of the World. Rather than describing the details of the cosmos and the stars and the oceans at length, it stops and details the first sin of the first human being. As it continues, the Torah does not report on all the peoples and kingdoms that rose and fell during those times, but it does stop to record how Avraham Avinu welcomes guests into his tent, or how Rivka quenches the camels' thirst near the well.

Why? Because that's what's important. The Torah is not a book of science or history. The word תורה comes from the word הוראה – to teach, to guide, to educate. These "small deeds" are the most significant and influential.

This idea can also add flavor to everything we're doing at this time of year: the effort and the running around – the sukkah, the house, the meals, the little conversations, the family moments – all of these are the foundation stones of simcha, solidity and stability.

Chag Sameach!

Rabbi Ezra Friedman Kashrut Page

Who is Permitted to Immerse Utensils?
There are two factors to consider in determining who may immerse utensils. Firstly, by classifying the status of the mitzvah as biblical (deorayta), it would require a higher level of fulfillment. The second factor is regarding intent, which is not required for the proper fulfillment of the mitzvah of tevilat keilim. These two factors are essential in determining who is permitted to immerse utensils.
Relying on others to immerse utensils
Most authorities rule that immersing utensils is biblical. As such, one may not send a child (below the age of bar or bat mitzvah) to immerse utensils. This is the ruling of the Shulchan Aruch (YD 120:14) and all later authorities (see Sefer Hakashrut 4:39). The Pri Megadim (OC 451:6) and other authorities discuss whether a child may immerse glass utensils. While metal utensils are considered deorayta (biblical), the Gemara (Avodah Zara 75:B)  states that the immersion of glass utensils is rabbinic. The basis of the Sage’s additional requirement to immerse glass is based on the similarity of the melting and fusing process to the manufacture of metal utensils. If immersing glass utensils is classified as a rabbinic obligation, logically a child should be permitted to do so. However, the Pri Megadim states that even for glass utensils children are not to be relied upon for immersion. As long as the utensil hasn’t been immersed, it is considered a prohibited object (chezkat isur). As the act of immersion permits its use, a child may not be entrusted with halachically changing its status, even when the obligation is rabbinic. Many authorities bring proofs against the Pri Megadim's claim. As many later authorities (Pitchei Teshuva 120:14, Aruch Hashulchan 120:13) are lenient and permit children to immerse glass dishes, one may follow that halachic ruling. Children above bat and bar mitzvah are fully permitted to carry out the mitzvah of tevilat keilim.
In addition, one may not rely upon a non-Jew to immerse any utensils on his behalf (Biur HaGra YD 120:39), even glass utensils.
Immersion with supervision
Regarding intent, halachic authorities discuss whether a child or non-Jew may immerse utensils in the presence of a Jewish adult. Early authorities bring proof from the Talmud that since intent is not required for immersion, a non-Jew or child may immerse utensils in the presence of a Jew who is obligated in the mitzvah. However, certain poskim (see Ben Yisrael L'amim 12:30) rule that one should preferably not have a non-Jew or child immerse even with adult supervision, as no bracha may be recited in such a situation. Ideally, the owner of the utensil should perform the mitzvah himself. However, in a case where it is difficult for an individual to immerse his own utensils, he may be helped by a non-Jew to immerse utensils in his presence. In order for a bracha to be recited, the owner should immerse the first utensil himself and the remaining utensils may be immersed by the non-Jew.
In a case where a Jew is unable to leave his house to immerse, a Jewish religious adult should be sent to perform tevilat keilim on his behalf.
To summarize:
•	Children who are not yet obligated in mitzvot are not permitted to immerse metal utensils. However, one may be lenient to allow a child to immerse glass utensils.

•	A non-Jew may not perform the mitzvah of immersion without being properly supervised by a Jew.

•	Under a Jewish adult’s supervision, a child or non-Jew may immerse utensils. However, it is preferable for the supervisor to immerse the first utensil in order to enable the bracha to be recited.

•	If an individual needs assistance to immerse his utensils, ideally he should immerse the first utensil with a bracha and then a non-Jew or child may immerse the remaining utensils in his presence.

•	Someone who is restricted to his home or is unable to immerse his utensils should have a religious adult Jew immerse the utensils on his behalf.

Generation to Generation

Aaron Goldscheider

As we conclude the reading of five books of the Torah we pause to contemplate its paramount teachings.

Indeed, the Sages of the Midrash pondered this very notion when examining the final sedra of the Torah. They interpreted Moshe's final blessing to the nation, V’zot Habracha (Devarim 33:1), within a wider framework. Namely, Moshe’s blessing to his flock is actually a continuum from Avraham’s blessing to his son, Yitzchak; Yizchak’s blessing to his son Yaakov; and Yaakov to his twelve sons. (Devarim Rabbah 11:1)

What is the deeper idea being articulated in this midrashic teaching?

The Sages in this passage carefully note that each one of these leaders began their blessing with the precise word where the leader before them left off. Each of the forefathers, and even Moshe, utilize the very same term which was used previously to commence their own blessing. For example, Avraham concluded his blessing to his son with the word ויתן (Bereshit 25:20)  -  and following in his father's footsteps,Yitzchak launched his blessing to his son Yaakov with the identical word, ויתן (Bereshit 27:28).

The Sages cite a halachic ruling regarding prayer that they attach to this particular gesture of the forefathers. In a circumstance where the sh’liach tzibbur (prayer leader) loses his train of thought and is unable to continue, what does the halacha dictate? (Parenthetically, in ancient days often one would recite this passage without a text in hand and it was not uncommon for this occurrence to happen). The Midrash states that the person who steps in “begins with the blessing where the prior prayer leader left off.” In other words, the person who is relieving the first prayer leader does not start from the beginning. If the mistake is made in the 8th blessing of the amidah, for example, it is at the 8th blessing where the reliever begins (and he does not go back to the beginning).

Interestingly, the Midrash claims that this law regarding prayer is based on the fact that our forefathers continued their blessing from where the prior figure had left off. We emulate their way when we adhere to this practice when presented with the issue of blessings of the amidah.

How are we to conceptualize this law? What is the deeper significance of the concept of ‘Beginning a blessing where the other left off?’

Three noteworthy insights:

1.	Mesorah:

The message of the Midrash touches on the importance of parents and teachers connecting the younger generation to the entire Mesorah going all the way back to Mount Sinai and the beginning of our peoplehood, commencing with Avraham.

The notion of Mesorah, is a bedrock principle of Judaism. The very first Jew, Avraham Avinu, is praised by the Almighty who successfully passed his teachings and his unique vision to his child. Hashem says: “For I have loved him, because he commands his children and his household after him that they keep the way of Hashem…” (Bereshit 18:19).

The Rav, Rabbi Joseph B. Soloveitchik zt”l was enamored with this power of Mesorah - transmitting the tradition from one generation to the next. Not only does the Rav often emphasize this idea in his teachings, but he spoke of it as one of his earliest and lasting memories. He recalled from his days in cheder as a young boy that his Rebbe was teaching the episode of Yehuda confronting Yosef. The Rebbe questioned why Yosef asked the brothers if they had a father. He was already aware of the fact that his father was alive. What then did he mean? At this point the melamed launched into a poetic reading of the text in which Yosef was really concerned with the issue of the brothers perceiving their father not only as a biological parent but the very source of their lives. “Do you look upon your father as branches look upon the roots of the tree? Do you regard your father as the foundation of your existence?...Do you believe that the old father, who represents the old tradition, is capable of telling you something new, something exciting, something challenging that you didn't know before, or are you arrogant, insolent, vain, and demand independence from your father? (Joseph B. Soloveitchik, Concepts in Jewish Education, 1975).

2.	A Link In The Chain:

Rabbi Chaim Zaitchik (Mayanei HaChaim 1, Toldot), a renowned contemporary teacher of Mussar (1905-1989), posited that the Midrash is spotlighting the uniqueness of the forefathers and of Moshe Rabbeinu in their wholehearted dedication to preserve the accomplishment of their predecessors. Often, new leaders are apt to demonstrate their own talents and genius; they prefer to make a name for themselves. Merely perpetuating the work of the earlier generation is perceived by the new head as being shameful.

This was not the case with these righteous figures of our faith. The midrash emphasizes that the great individuals mentioned in the midrash minimize their own contributions and were dedicated to giving credit instead to their ancestors who paved a way for them to follow.

These great personalities preferred to place their personal ambition aside. They strove to stay on the course that was laid out for them.They aspired to become another link in the chain stretching from the earliest founding of our people to the end of days. The blessing that they received from the earlier generation was a treasure in their eyes that required utmost care and supervision so that it remained fully intact and pure.

3.	Expand and Embellish:

Perhaps the most novel reading of this midrash is found in the writings of the Shem MiShmuel, Rebbe Shmuel Bornstein, the beloved Sochotchover Rebbe (1855 -1926).

Each great figure mentioned in the Midrash, in the words of the Rebbe, “widened the gate that was bequeathed to them from the prior generation.” Their greatness was not merely carrying on the tradition but enriching and expanding on that which was inherited from the prior generation (Shem MiShmuel 5672).

The Midrash is quick to point out that when conveying the blessing, they also added a new word of their own. Indeed, the blessing they received was given new form and meaning. In other words, each subsequent forefather enhanced and upgraded the blessing that they received.

The Rebbe carefully examined the text of this Midrash. The specific term each figure chose to implement in their blessing contained significant meaning. Let us cite the following examples:

Avraham gave the blessing to his son Yitzchak employing the term ויתן (Bereshit 25:20). To give in this way is comparable to giving a gift (matana and the word yiten). One does so with the pure intent of bestowing on another, deserved or underserved, additional favor.

When Yitzchak blessed his son Yaakov he opened with the word, ויתן , where his father left off, but then concluded his blessing with the word קריאה , which means to call upon. The Rebbe of Sochotchov says that this term suggests a quality of blessing that intends to enrich and elevate that person’s station in life. In this way Yitzchak's blessing added a dimension not found in the original blessing of Avraham.

Yaakov picked up where his father Yitzchak left off. He employed the word קריאה but then concluded his blessing with another word: זאת,’this’. The Rebbe suggested that this alludes to the idea that although one is blessed with fortune and great success and therefore one’s life has  been enhanced, yet, it is improper to lose a grasp on one's humility and modesty. “This'' and nothing more. Yaakov adds to the prior blessings the dimension of humility, modesty and groundedness which must remain the most noble aspiration of a Jew and the nation of Israel - even amid accomplishment and achievement.

In sum, the Rebbe of Sochotchov suggested that the final sedra of the Torah represents the exquisite aspiration and desire of every generation to provide the next generation with richness of blessing - even more abundantly than what was experienced in their lifetime. This ambition is one of our people’s loftiest conceptions. Throughout time and our history we as Jews strive to steadily enhance and improve one generation to the next. We are committed to spiritual ascent; to building on our successes.

A beautiful example of this idea can be seen perhaps in the numerous families who make aliyah to Israel. In many cases the parents know that it will be quite challenging to accomplish their own personal goals in a new and somewhat foreign setting but their true intent and objective in making a new home in Israel is in order to provide their children and generations to come with a more noble and elevated life.

May we be zoche to bequeath to our children and grandchildren blessings even more robust  than we received in our lifetime, and thereby continually bring more light and sanctity to the world - one generation standing on the shoulders of the ones who came before them. Le’dor va’dor nagid gadlecha. ‘From generation to generation we will declare Your greatness.”