A Special Interaction with Rav Moshe Tzuriel

Since the beginning of last school year, we've been sending Moriyah to a babysitter named Tehillah in the neighboring (Chareidi) community of Beit Chilkiyah. A few weeks ago, Tehillah was asking Rena about our aliyah, and she mentioned that her father made aliyah as well. I was shocked (pleasantly) to learn that her father was none other than Rav Moshe Tzuriel, who was one of the Mashgichim at Yeshivat Sha'alvim when I studied there back in the day.
Rav Tzuriel is difficult to forget. First and foremost, he is literally a genius, a walking encyclopedia of Judaic knowledge and information. He knows not only Shas by heart, but also the entire works of Maharal, Rav Kook, and many others. (This is not the place for an extensive biography, but it's really worthwhile to read about his life, which you can do here in English - highly recommended, or here in Hebrew.) Just the mention of his name brought back warm memories.
Recently, I've started giving a weekly shiur on Aggadah in the Gemara, and I wanted an easy way to find the various commentaries of Maharal on the different pieces as they appear in the order of the Gemara. I immediately thought of Rav Tzuriel, who I knew had written an index of the entire works of Maharal. (Apparently, he's also written idexes for Rambam, Ramchal, Netziv, Rav Kook, Rav Hirsch, and others as well. I did say genius, right?)
Yesterday, when I dropped Moriyah off at the babysitter, I mentioned that I wanted her to call her father, to see if I could buy the book on Maharal from him, as I was having trouble locating the book in stores. She pulled out the phone, dialed the number, handed me the phone and said, "Ask him yourself."
When he answered the phone, he began asking me questions about myself. I told him that I used to be a shul rabbi in America, made aliyah - the usual details. Then he asked me what my profession is here in Israel, and I explained that I recruit students for Orot. He said, "Well, then you not only have a profession, but your work is also a mitzvah, because when a person studies academics and earns a degree, he becomes a better, more refined, more capable person. So kol hakavod to you!"
I then told him why I was calling, and before I could ask for the Maharal book he said, "What you need is my four-volume work, in which I compiled an index of over one hundred and twenty books and the Agadot that they reference according to the order of the Gemara. It's 150 shekel, and I'm coming to Yad Binyamin this afternoon (he also teaches in the Torat Hachayim in YB), so I'll bring it to you this afternoon. And I also just wrote a commentary on Agadah Brachot, which is 10 shekel." Sold. But here's the kicker. He then said, "And, I just saw recently in a store here in Bnei Brak that someone put out a work of the Maharal according to the order of the Gemara on brachot. I'm not going there between now and this afternoon, but if you give me forty shekel, then when we get back to Bnei Brak, I'll stop in the store with my driver, and he'll bring you back the book." And that's exactly what he did.
When I came to the yeshiva yesterday to pick up the books, we spoke for a minute and then he said to me, "I know that when you were a rabbi in America, you were a big deal and here you're 'nothing.' But it's not true. Here you're ten thousand times more valuable than you were there. You should never regret the decision that you made."

Audio Shiur: Parshat Ki Teitzei - Falling into God's Hands

Audio Shiur:
Parshat Ki Teitzei - Falling into God's Hands 

Why build a fence on my balcony, if everything that happens in the world is God's will?

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Insights into Agadah 6 - The Urim V'Tumim

This shiur studies the classic text of Agadeta found in Gemara Brachot, focusing as well on the commentaries of Ein Ya'akov of Rabbi Ya'akov ibn Habib and Ein Ayah from Rav Kook.

If the Jewish people had access to a divine device which would automatically tell them what God wanted them to do, how could they ever make decisions on their own?

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Insights into Agadah 5 - Qualities of Jewish Leadership

This shiur studies the classic text of Agadeta found in Gemara Brachot, focusing as well on the commentaries of Ein Ya'akov of Rabbi Ya'akov ibn Habib and Ein Ayah from Rav Kook.

We begin with a wonderful thought from the Ben Ish Chai, and then turn to the story of David Hamelech, and how he spent his nighttime hours.

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Insights into Agadah 4 - A Chance Meeting With Eliyahu Hanavi 2

This shiur studies the classic text of Agadeta found in Gemara Brachot, focusing as well on the commentaries of Ein Ya'akov of Rabbi Ya'akov ibn Habib and Ein Ayah from Rav Kook.

Rabbi Yossi tells Eliyahu Hanavi what he heard as he was praying in the Churvah in Yerushalayim. Ein Yaakov and Ein Ayah use the text as a springboard to teach us what we're really missing without a Beit Hamikdash.

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Insights into Agadah 3 - A Chance Meeting With Eliyahu Hanavi 1

This shiur studies the classic text of Agadeta found in Gemara Brachot, focusing as well on the commentaries of Ein Ya'akov of Rabbi Ya'akov ibn Habib and Ein Ayah from Rav Kook.

A short sojourn into a Churvah in Yerushalayim leads to a meeting with Eliayhu Hanavi, and some important lessons about Galut, tefillah, and yearning for Moshiach.

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Insights into Agadah 2 - Five Interpretations of the Three Watches (Mishmarot)

This shiur studies the classic text of Agadeta found in Gemara Brachot, focusing as well on the commentaries of Ein Ya'akov of Rabbi Ya'akov ibn Habib and Ein Ayah from Rav Kook.

During our first shiur, we introduced the concept that the night is divided into three "watches" - mishmarot. In this shiur, we look at five unique perspectives on what these "watches" represent - all very different, each interpretation conveying a valuable and important lesson.

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Are You a Tzadik if You Fill Someone Else's Parking Meter?

The Jewish internet has been passing around this story about two tzadikkim - a chareidi youth and a parking meter checker who, well, read it yourself. See here for the original item.
I have a number of questions about the story:
1. Is it really illegal to fill the meter for others in Israel? I'll ask a policeman friend and let you know. From what I can tell, some municipalities outlawed the practice because it was eating into parking revenue, which the government counts on.
2. Let's assume that it is. How then is someone a tzaddik for breaking the law - even if it helps out someone else? Sure, you might have saved five people from a hundred shekel ticket. But that money has to come from somewhere. The city's budget isn't going to change, and if doesn't make the money from the expected ticket revenue, it's not hard to imagine where the money will come from. More likely is that the ticket taker has a quota, so instead of ticketing that row of cars, he'll just move to the next row. Which means that our tzaddik saved one group of people money, and cost others.
3.  Which leads to our ticket writer. He probably found the whole thing amusing. See #2.
4. Finally, as I've written before, Israel is quickly moving away from paper tickets and meters. Most locations don't even have meters anymore (you have to put a slip of paper on the dashboard). Also, many people are moving to automatic payments using their cellphones, and there's no way at all to tell if they've paid, unless you're connected to the police system.
So, in all likelihood, our tzaddik (if you can call him that) was probably wasting his money.

A Beautiful Siyyum HaShas You Didn't Read About (Until Now)

Rav Chaim Dovid Kowalsky

In this past week's B'sheva, Yedidya Meir wrote a beautiful daf yomi story that I want to share, in which he quotes a letter he received from a reader.

Our grandfather, Saba Yaakov, has already completed two cycles of the Daf Yomi. From the time that he retired, about fifteen years ago, he decided to dedicate his time to Torah study. Despite the fact that he did not grow up in the Yeshiva world, and despite the fact that he spent most of his life supporting his household, slowly but surely Saba Yaakov accumulated skills in learning the pages of the holy Gemara with regularity. Not a day passed that he didn't learn the Daf - first with a Steinzaltz and later on in the regular shiur of Rav Bortman in Kiryat Mutzkin. Even during the second Lebanon War, when the residents of the [Northern] cities were shelled, and Saba Yaakov found himself exiled to his son's residence in Petach Tikvah, he joined the shiur in the "Hadar Ganim" neighborhood for a month, and was beloved by the members of the Kolel.
Over the past three years, Saba Yaakov's health has taken a turn for the worse. He's had a pacemaker implanted, his legs are full of fluid, and he can no longer leave the house to attend regular tefillot or the Daf Yomi shiur. His physical deterioriation affected his mental state. We watched as Saba Yaakov deteriorated, and saw no resolution to the problem. He simply stopped grasping to the "Tree of Life", and we feared that from that point onward, the road would be short, God forbid.
Then, like a final lifeline, Saba Yaakov discovered Rav Kowalsky and the website of "Meorot Hadaf Hayomi." Hidden away at home, Saba Yaakov plunged back into the Sugyot of the Talmud as Rav Kowalsky, with a unique sweetness and grace, via the computer screen, breathed life back into [our grandfather]. One shiur, and then another, and then another - returned to Saba the will to live. Rav Kowalsky became his virtual best friend. Saba spent three or more hours each day with the Rav - and just try and interrupt him during the shiur. No conversation with Saba did not include a word about the Rav or his young son Shmulik, who would ask wise questions during the shiur.
On the occasion of the [recent] Siyyum Hashas we decided to surprise Saba - who never leaves the house, and lives in the four "inches" of Rav Kowalsky. We tracked down Rav Kowalsky's phone number in the hopes that he would find a few moments in his busy day to record a personal video greeting. [When we reached him], the Rav asked where Saba lives, and when he heard the answer - Kiryat Chaim - he said, "I'm on my way to the north for a family vacation. What's the address? Rather than record a greeting, I'll come in person."
So, yesterday, exactly at 1:00pm, when Saba was preparing for his regular learning with his virtual "Rebbe", a knock was heard at the door. So that he would not grow overly emotional, Savta Chaya prepared Saba in advance telling him that an important guest was scheduled to arrive and visit him. Saba demurred, "Who could be more important that my daily learning with Rav Kowalsky?" and he turned back to the computer.
I still cannot find the words to describe the emotional meeting between teacher and student - who despite having never met felt so close. The Rav sat in Saba's home for more than half an hour. They discussed Sugyot in Shas, Saba's birthplace in Romania - Saba was beside himself with pleasure. They departed warmly - but not before the Rav begged Saba to bless him and his son Shmulik.
Many important leaders in Israel benefit from Rav Kowalsky's shiurim - from his well-known shiur in the Azrieli Towers to the last shiur he delivers each night. Yet, on his trip to a family vacation, he made the effort to come, greet and give honor to his last student. I write this letter without asking [the Rav's] permission, because I'm not entirely sure that he'd be happy about this publicity.
Tens of Siyyumim of the Shas took place recently in Israel and around the world; events adorned by the Gedolim of Israel, impressive meals and wonderful momentos for those who completed the learning. Yet, fortunate was the eye that saw the Siyyum of Saba Yaakov with his no-longer-virtual Rav.

Is Exercise Before Tefillah Permissible?

I run regularly, and have been logging somewhere between 12-15 miles per week for years now. (I'm almost reached "purple" on NikeRunning - about 30 miles to go!) I run to try and keep a handle on my weight, but even more to keep myself sane. Running helps me stay balanced and in control, and is something I make sure to keep doing on a regular basis.
The problem, especially in the summer, is that it's hot. Really, really hot. And in Yad Binyamin, which is essentially the coastal plane of Israel, its especially hot, reaching the mid-90's (F) regularly during the day. You can either run late at night, or even better, early in the morning - very early, which I've been doing for much of the summer. But you have to run really early, before the sun gets too high in the sky and the air grows too hot. By 8am, it's just too late to run at all during the summer months.
So I've been getting up early - a little after 6:00am to run. The air is just cool enough to breathe, and I can cool down and shower and, if I'm lucky, make minyan by 8:00am (and if not, there's always 8:30).
Then, a couple of weeks ago, a member of the community approached me with a question. He too needs to work out regularly - although he prefers swimming. (It seems that when he lived in Gush Katif he would snorkel regularly in the early morning in the ocean and would allow himself to do so with the rationale that the ocean is essentially a mikveh, and his immersion is halachically acceptable before tefillah. But now, his swim would be in a pool and wouldn't count.) He noticed me running in the morning, so he wondered about the halachic basis for my practice. Why would I be allowed to run before davening?
His question becomes even stronger in light of a statement of the Gemara from this week's Daf Yomi where the Gemara (Brachot 14a) states:

אמר רב אידי בר אבין אמר רב יצחק בר אשיאן אסור לו לאדם לעשות חפציו קודם שיתפלל שנאמר (תהילים פה) צדק לפניו יהלך וישם לדרך פעמיו: 

R. Idi b. Abin said in the name of R. Isaac b. Ashian: It is forbidden to a man to do his own business before he says his prayers, as it says, Righteousness shall go before him and then he shall set his steps on his own way.

It's pretty clear from the Gemara and the halachic rulings that follow, that a person must place prayer as the first priority in his daily schedule. First pray to God and then do everything else. The Shulchan Aruch rules:

אסור לו להתעסק בצרכיו או לילך לדרך עד שיתפלל תפלת שמונה עשרה (ויש מקילין לאחר שאמרו מקצת ברכות קודם שאמרו ברוך שאמר וטוב להחמיר בזה) (תרומת הדשן סימן י"ח) ולא לאכול ולא לשתות אבל מים מותר לשתות קודם תפלה בין בחול ובין בשבת ויום טוב וכן אוכלים ומשקין לרפואה מותר:

A person is forbidden in engaging in his needs or traveling on the road until he prays Shemonah Esreh (some are lenient after he recites some of the brachot that are said before Baruch She'amar, and it is proper to be stringent in this matter - Terumat Hadeshen 18) and not eat or drink. Yet, [drinking] water is permitted before Tefillah both during the week and on Shabbat and Yom Tov, and eating and drinking for medicinal purposes is permitted.

The ruling seems rather strict: no eating, drinking - not even the study of Torah is allowed - before one prays to God.
Indeed, to me the ruling makes intuitive sense. A religious individual starts his or her day by first acknowledging God's presence and influence in her life. That faith and devotion sets the critical tone for the rest of the day, and is a cornerstone of a spiritual life. What we do first, at the beginning of the day, says everything about us: our priorities and attitudes about the way we live our lives.
With this background, is there any wiggle room to permit running, or any type of exercise, before engaging in daily prayer?
Actually, there is. Piskei Teshuvot, a compendium of responsa written pretty much over the last century, has a nice summary of the various reasons that a person would want to engage in all sorts of activities before prayer:

• Can you engage in tzedakah before davening or acts related to Chesed? Yes?
• What about helping get your kids out to school? Rav Shlomo Zalman Aurbach allowed it.
• How about buying minor food items (i.e. milk and bread) to get said kids out to school? Again yes.

So, there is some amount of wiggle room to allow for a certain level of activity before prayer. What about running and exercise? Piskei Teshuvot (O.C. 89:15) quotes Rivevot Ephraim who likens exercise to eating for medicinal purposes, which the Shulchan Aruch explicitly allows. He allows "running for medicinal purposes or exercising in the water, for someone who requires this activity for medicinal needs, and anything similar to this..." (see footnote 190) He also quotes Sefer Tefillah Kehilchatah in the name of Rav Shainberg who allowed exercise for health, explaining that this is no worse than eating or drinking which Shulchan Aruch allows, but only "if there's a justifiable reason" for exercising before prayer.
Moreover, one can and should combine this with the leniency of Rema, who allows one to engage in forms of activity after reciting birchot hashachar - morning blessings. Then, you're combining the fact that you have indeed offered words of prayer with the leniency of health concerns.
This leaves us with two questions: is it absolutely necessary to run before davening? Theoretically, I could get up and daven vatikin, at sunrise, and run afterwards. That's hasn't really happened thus far. Is my inability/unwillingness to get up at 5am to run a mitigating factor which will allow me to run before I daven? Secondly, all of the sources discuss exercise for "refuah", which generally refers to someone in rehabilitation, or someone who requires exercise on the advice and counsel of a doctor for a specific malady. While I don't know any doctor who would not advice regular exercise, does my need to run regularly rise to the level of "refuah"?
I think so, but I could see someone disagreeing.
In any case, hopefully the staggering heat will dissipate soon and I can get back to running at a normal hour.

Choosing a Rabbi for our Shul in Israel - Part 1

Yad Binyamin is a relatively young community from a number of vantage points. Most of the members are relatively young; few seniors have made a home here. But more significantly, the community itself -at least where we live - is quite new. Aside from the people we call the Vatikim (literally, the "seniors") - who have lived here for thirty years since the time that Yad Binyamin was essentially a yeshiva for boys and nothing else - no other resident has lived her longer than seven years, and most have been here for far less than that. Everyone here, from the people kicked out of their homes in Gush Katif, to the native Israelis who built homes here to the Olim, has moved here relatively recently.
About three years ago, a number of the members of our shul (which is called the Beit Knesset Mercazi) raised the issue of hiring a rabbi for our shul. While in America the vast majority of shuls have a rabbi and the need for such a position is relatively self-evident, in Israel that is simply not the case. A lot of the ambivalence about shul rabbis has to do with a difference in culture, the nature of the people who comprise the membership, and the different role of rabbi, as perceived by the membership. In Israel, the model of community rabbi does not really exist on a large scale. Smaller yishuvim are served by a single rabbi for the entire yishuv, hired through the municipality. In the larger cities, while a number of Anglo community shuls have a rabbi, Israeli shuls by and large do not. The local city rabbi had the authority over what went on in the shul (and exerted his authority sometimes against the wishes of the membership), without developing the personal relationships that are the heart of the American-style, pastoral rabbinate.
In recent years, a number of different organizations have tried to import this community-oriented rabbinate to Israel. Tzohar boasted that it would install hundreds of rabbis in shuls across Israel. Over a  period of years it installed perhaps two dozen, and disbanded the program in frustration. Sure there were rabbis looking for training. But there weren't that many shuls looking to hire the rabbis. Another organization called Likrat Shlichut trains rabbis to serve in communities through a program with Bar Ilan University. They do give training, but still have trouble placing rabbis. If they place three rabbis in a year, they consider the year a success. Finally, two good friends of mine are starting yet another rabbinic training program that they've called Barkai, focusing on young rabbis living in communities without established shuls, hoping that well-trained rabbis will succeed in starting communities around them. It's a good strategy, and I think it has a better chance of working. But they'll need serious funding to make their program a success.
All of this points to the clear fact that the Israeli public does at all see a shul rabbi as a necessity, by any means. For this reason, when the topic was raised in our shul it was incendiary: while some members strongly pushed for the hiring of a rabbi, others pushed back, hard, against the idea. After all, they argued, our shul is blessed with many learned, capable members who can and do give any number of weekly shiurim. Why then do we need to bring in an authority figure to tell us what to do? (From that very formulation, it was easy to understand (a) how some people perceived the role of the community rabbi and (b) why they would be against hiring one. And they're not incorrect: in Israel, many rabbis do see their role as telling the membership what to do.)
On the other hand, how do you explain to someone who hasn't experienced a good community rabbi the benefit that such a figure can bring to a community? Great rabbis do many things. But the total effect of a rabbi if far greater than the sum of the tasks that he fulfills. He's a pastor, advisor, posek, teacher, speaker - and yes, most of those tasks can and are filled by members in our shul and yishuv. But when those roles are combined together, they enhance one-another. A good rabbi bonds with his shul, and uses the myriad roles that he fulfills to propel the community to grow in different ways. But if you haven't seen that happen, it's difficult to envision.
Because of this discord, there really wasn't a strong groundswell to hire a rabbi. So the process essentially languished. Search committees were formed. They met...but never really got anywhere. Things were at a standstill. Rabbinic proponents felt stymied, and that the process would never move forward, and the opponents to hiring a rabbi felt quite comfortable with the situation. Let the community gel, they felt, and then we can revisit the issue when we have a better sense of ourselves.
Finally, last year, the shul board took a vote: Do we, as a community, want to continue the process and seek a rabbi or not. The vote was held, and the initiative passed, kind of.
Out of a membership of approximately 140 families (with both  parents eligible to vote - so the total voting pool was somewhere near 280 people), the initiative passed by about a vote of 35 to 20. A sizable majority, yes, but not a resounding endorsement.
The proponents were happy. They had their mandate. The community had voted in favor. But the detractors were equally happy. They figured that with such an anemic level of support, there was really not enough backing from the membership to move forward and hire a rabbi.
They were both right. And, the outgoing board disbanded (they had served their one-year term), and a new board was installed. Everyone figured that the issue would languish for yet another year.
They figured wrong.

Finding the Parenting Sweet Spot

Scenario #1: Father wants to teach child how to swim. Child is terribly afraid of the water. Father doesn't want to throw the child into deep water (as his parents did to him) because he feels this is (a) somewhat cruel and more importantly (b) counter-productive, as the experience will probably traumatize said child and further delay his aquatic career.

Scenario #2: Parents want to go out, leaving 13 year old to babysit his siblings for the first time, including taking them out for pizza, and getting them into bed without fighting with them. Parents are anxious about giving said child such a large level of responsibility. Should they do it?

I've encountered a number of articles about parenting techniques of late, including a fascinating New Yorker piece (a must read!) contrasting the responsibility and maturity of the Matsigenka, a tribe who live in the Peruvian Amazon, and the typical American child who, the author correctly notes, "may represent the most indulged young people in the history of the world." (I would take out the word "may".) It seems clear that the more we give our children, the less they are willing to work, earn and appreciate what they have. And yet, as parents, we seem to want to give them more, when we know that this is probably the very worst thing that we could do for them.
A similar recent NY Times article on the same subject described the optimal parenting technique:

Decades of studies, many of them by Diana Baumrind, a clinical and developmental psychologist at the University of California, Berkeley, have found that the optimal parent is one who is involved and responsive, who sets high expectations but respects her child’s autonomy. These “authoritative parents” appear to hit the sweet spot of parental involvement and generally raise children who do better academically, psychologically and socially than children whose parents are either permissive and less involved, or controlling and more involved.

So, in other words, we're supposed to set expectations, and then let our children go fulfill them, without intervening (and helping them). In essence, we're supposed to challenge our children, and let them struggle with the challenges. Sometimes our children will succeed, sometimes they'll fail, and the process will probably always involve a level of struggle and difficulty. But they need the opportunity to strive in order to grow to become independent people in their own right.
Reading these articles made me think of a passuk in Parshat Eikev and a recent section from the Gemara in Brachot. Describing the trials and tribulations that the Jewish nation faced throughout their forty years in the desert, Moshe uses an interesting, somewhat puzzling analogy:

וְיָדַעְתָּ, עִם-לְבָבֶךָ:  כִּי, כַּאֲשֶׁר יְיַסֵּר אִישׁ אֶת-בְּנוֹ, ה' אֱלֹקיךָ, מְיַסְּרֶךָּ.
And you know in your heart, that just as a man afflicts his son, so too does Hashem your God afflict you.

Actually, the word ייסר - which I translated as "afflict" - is a rather harsh translation. Many of the commentators see the word as being based on the word מוסר - "rebuke", meaning that God "rebuked" the nation of Israel like a father rebukes a child. But the root also emanates from the word ייסורין - or afflictions, which makes us wonder: do parents really afflict their children? Are we supposed to make our children suffer?
I doubt that the New York Times would think so. But in essence, isn't that what parenting is about? What child really wants to toil over difficult math problems? Swimming in the deep end is indeed frightening to a child who's scared of the water. At least at first, learning to swim is a form of suffering. So, should we force the child to suffer, or give in to their desire to abandon the math homework and not learn how to swim?
Obviously, I don't think so. But that doesn't make it any easier.

Audio Shiur: Parshat Va'etchanan - Subtraction Through Addition

Audio Shiur:
Parshat Va'etchanan - Subtraction Through Addition 

We all know the famous Mishnah in Ta'anit about the way the Jewish girls would entice their future husbands on Tu B'av by dancing in the vineyards. Yet, what if we tried to have such an event today? Unthinkable. What changed? Why would a custom that Chazal considered wholesome in their time now be considered totally inappropriate? The answer to this question might depend on our understanding of the prohibition of Bal Tosif - the injunction against adding to Mitzvot in the Torah.

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Now Selling Indulgences...er, Blessings, for just $180!

Got this in an email from the Belzer Chassidim. It seems that they're now overtly selling indulgences - sorry - kvitlach - via the internet. The sad part is, they really do great Chessed work in Israel. It's a shame when they have to resort to such sad tactics.
My favorite part of the picture: the blatant bastardization of the passuk, which in the real Torah reads - העשיר לא ירבה והדל לא ימעית - "the rich may not add and the poor may not subtract." It seems in Belz they have no problem with the rich adding, as long as the poor guy pays his $180 for his kvittel too!