Parshat Lech Lecha - The Personality of Lot

Audio Shiur:
Parshat Lech Lecha - The Personality of Lot

Lot doesn't come off well in the Midrash. But a careful look at the text paints a far more nuanced picture, and we come to realize that we have much more in common with Lot than we might have thought. .

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The Latest (and last for now) Simcha Spolter

The Original Simcha Spolter

Almost 30 years ago, my father passed away at the almost unbelievably young age of 39. As I am now currently that very same age, I find this fact somewhat disconcerting, but more saddening. I (still) consider myself young. I have very young children, as did he. I have come to the point where I mourn the loss of his life not so much for myself - that feeling wells up at times too - but for him.
Because I now live in Israel only a short drive away from my father's grave, I am now able to visit his kever and pray there more than I ever did. On erev Yom Kippur this year, I found myself drawn there. It seemed not just appropriate, but necessary, and my two eldest sons, Simcha and Bezalel were there with me.
As we recited Tehillim, for reasons I don't really understand I landed on the chapters that begin with Shir Hama'alot, towards the end of the book. One chapter, Psalms 128, particularly caught my attention.

שִׁיר, הַמַּעֲלוֹת:

אַשְׁרֵי, כָּל-יְרֵא ה' - הַהֹלֵךְ, בִּדְרָכָיו.

יְגִיעַ כַּפֶּיךָ, כִּי תֹאכֵל; אַשְׁרֶיךָ, וְטוֹב לָךְ.

אֶשְׁתְּךָ, כְּגֶפֶן פֹּרִיָּה - בְּיַרְכְּתֵי בֵיתֶךָ:

בָּנֶיךָ, כִּשְׁתִלֵי זֵיתִים - סָבִיב, לְשֻׁלְחָנֶךָ.

הִנֵּה כִי-כֵן, יְבֹרַךְ גָּבֶר - יְרֵא ה'.

יְבָרֶכְךָ ה', מִצִּיּוֹן: וּרְאֵה, בְּטוּב יְרוּשָׁלִָם--כֹּל, יְמֵי חַיֶּיךָ.

וּרְאֵה-בָנִים לְבָנֶיךָ: שָׁלוֹם, עַל-יִשְׂרָאֵל.

A Song of Ascents.
Happy is every one that feareth the LORD, that walketh in His ways.
When thou eatest the labour of thy hands, happy shalt thou be, and it shall be well with thee.
Thy wife shall be as a fruitful vine, in the innermost parts of thy house;
thy children like olive plants, round about thy table.
Behold, surely thus shall the man be blessed that feareth the LORD.
The LORD bless thee out of Zion; and see thou the good of Jerusalem all the days of thy life;
And see thy children's children. Peace be upon Israel! 

As I recited the words, tears welled up in my eyes. What's the most that a person can really ask for? Who is truly fortunate? King David was right: All you can hope for is to walk in the path of God, "eat the fruits of your labors", enjoy the blessings of a loving and dedicated wife, and sit with your children around his dinner table. Reading these words next to my father's grave, only two thoughts came to my mind: I have all of that (and don't appreciate it enough), and he never really did. At least not enough, to my way of thinking - although no one seems to have asked me. Now, even almost thirty years after his death, I mourn - not for me, but for him.
He was never able to enjoy the Bat Mitzvahs of his sons or the weddings of his children; he never held a grandson on his lap as he received his name, nor walked down the aisle to the chuppah with a child.
But he did set a standard for us - quite a high one at that, which continues to live on in each of his children, and now his grandchildren. He was a pillar; a man of knowledge and erudition, of ethics, morals and integrity. Quiet and introspective, even now it's clear to me that he commanded an unusual level of respect in his family, community and even at work.
Almost immediately after his untimely death, relatives began naming children after my father. My father's brother Arty named his eldest son, Scott, after him, making him the first Simcha Spolter of his generation. (My father's English name, Seymour, seems to have been out of the question for any of us. Little wonder why.) Soon after, my mother's brother named his son Simcha as well.
But my mother - and I think my siblings and I as well - always knew that we would name our sons after our father. And indeed we did. My two eldest sisters named their firstborn sons Simcha. The only reason the third sister did not name a child Simcha is because her husband's name is Symcha. (It didn't seem appropriate). My brothers and I followed suit, each of us naming our eldest sons after our father. I get a sense of consolation knowing that my Hebrew name, when I'm called up to the Torah is Avraham Reuven ben Harav Simcha, and that my son is called up as Simcha ben Avraham Reuven. It just fits. It seems right.
Last week, the Simcha (Raczkowski, of Baltimore) named by my eldest sister got engaged to be married. On the very same day, my youngest brother's wife gave birth to a boy after three girls. There was little doubt that he too would name his son after his father, although he never knew his father at all, having become an orphan at the unthinkable age of two years old.
Simcha Spolter z"l's namesakes live around the world in Chicago, Yad Binyamin, Baltimore, Boyton Beach, Kiryat Sefer, and Cleveland. It now seems clear that this newest Simcha Spolter represents the last of this generation of Simcha Spolters. With eight Simchas named after my father, this seems fitting. It's enough, and they have great shoes to fill.
Good thing that there are a lot of them.

The Youngest Simcha Spolter

Rav Benny Eisner, ob"m

Rav Benny Eisner, ob"m

This past Shabbat, Rav Benny Eisner passed away. He was not my teacher, but I did study with him, during my year in Israel at YU's Gruss Kollel. He was teaching at BMT (which was then housed at YU Israel), and happened to live next door, so he offered to teach Orot to the fellows of the Kollel. I must admit that I don't remember the material, but I remember his fire, and passion, and love. Men like Rav Benny played a fundamental role in shaping the last generation of American Orthodoxy, through the influence that they had over their students. I'm sharing with you the thoughts of my good friend, Rabbi Barry Gelman, who sent this message to his congregation about his rebbe, Rav Benny Eisner.

There are so many things I can say about the man who changed my life forever, but will limit myself to a few brief thoughts.
Rav Benny was a man of great faith in God. His faith was unwavering regardless what difficulties he struggled with in life. Even during the worst period of his illness he maintained his faith and believed that God loved him.
Rav Benny was a great lover of all Jews. To be sure, he had his opinions and tried to convince you that he was right, but it was never personal. I saw it in action so many times over the years. It was a wonder to behold and something I will never forget

Rabbi Gelman and his Rebbe

Rav Benny was a fierce defender and protector of Eretz Yisrael and Medinat Yisrael. For him, there was no question that the establishment of the State of Israel was a gift from God. I recall one evening he invited me to speak to a few of his students who were about to enter the Israeli Army. Before I spoke he told them to remember that serving in the Israeli army was the greatest privilege in the world. He once told a group of students that he tried to convince the army to let him continue to serve even after they discharge him because he had such a large family.
Rav Benny introduced me to a brand of Judaism that is full of joy, passion and compassion. Like a good Rebee he not only taught me how to learn, he taught me how to live. Words cannot express the gratitude I have for all that he did for me. 
This summer I spent time in the hospital with Rav Benny as he was having a chemotherapy treatment. Since the treatment was going to take several hours, I asked Rav Benny if he had the strength to learn some Torah with me. He said sure and then proceeded to take out a copy of a book called Tomer Devorah (a mussar book focused on imitating the attributes of God). I was amazed as I had just started studying that book shortly before my trip. When I told Rav Benny he was very excited to hear that I was studying it. I do not recall Rav Benny ever mentioned this particular book to me. I am not one to make mystical connection when these things happen. My joy came form the realization that even after so many years, Rav Benny's influence on me was still apparent as I had chosen to study a book that he thought was very important.
One of my biggest regreets is that my own children will not have a chance to learn from him directly. From time to time I would think about how wonderful it would be if my children could learn from him when they studied in Israel. That day will not come and it saddens me a great deal.
May His Soul Be Forever Bound Up In The Bonds of Life.

About Rav Benny Eisner:
Rav Binyamin Eisner, affectionately known as “Rav Benny” is Rav and mentor to thousands of talmidim throughout Eretz Yisrael and the United States. Friends and talmidim have been captivated by the initial greeting of “Shalom, ani Benny”, his infectious smile, his passion for Torat Eretz Yisrael, and the warmth of his wife and children. Today, Rav Benny and his family reside in Abu Tor. Rav Benny’s daily shiurim in Yeshivat Torat Shraga, Yeshivat Morasha, Eli and Ateret Kohanim continue to inspire hundreds of talmidim in Eretz Yisrael to this day!
Rav Benny was born in Har Hatzofim in Yerushalayim, attended elementary school in Tel Aviv, and spent his High School years in Kibbutz Yavneh. Following High School the Rav was inducted into the army and fought in the 1967 war. Rav Benny was part of a small brigade of officers with aging rifles and a short supply of bullets looking uphill at opposition tanks. Miraculously, the tanks fled and soon after the brigade recaptured the sacred area of Kever Rachel. Upon realization of the land they had reclaimed, Rav Benny exclaimed, “Rachel Rachel you can stop crying…your children have returned”.
Rav Benny began developing a close relationship with Rav Tzvi Yehuda hakohen Kook zt”l during his army service. He yearned to find a yeshiva that embraced Limud Hatorah together with Ahavat Eretz Yisrael. He found this combination in Rav Kook, developed a close personal relationship, and became his personal driver to many important meetings. Rav Benny’s entire family enjoyed a close connection with Rav Kook which they all treasure to this day.
Soon after the war, Rav Benny met his wife, Sarah Ulman. With the encouragement of his wife Sarah, Rav Benny embarked on his first teaching position in Kibutz Yavneh followed by several years in Ohr Etzion in Merkaz Shapiro.
Having cultivated a following of Israeli talmidim, Rav Benny embraced American talmidim at Yeshivat Beit Midrash L’Torah and concurrently began teaching in Yeshiva L’Tze’irim Merkaz Harav.
In the early 1980s, the organization Shlach Et Ami – “Let my People Go” was established in the Eisner home. Avital Sharansky pining for the release of her beloved husband, Anatoly became close friends with the Eisner family and the families have remained friends ever since.
As the years went by the Eisner home was filled with talmidim – and their own children (3 boys and 8 girls). The dining room lights and kitchen oven stayed on until the early hours of the morning as talmidim dropped-in for a lesson on Rov Kook, Torat Eretz Yisrael, Kedusha – or simply a late night snack. Their home was a revolving door and an address for Torah, warmth and acceptance.
The talmidim’s love and devotion continue to this day. The Eisner continue to take part in the lives of their tamidim, regularly traveling to weddings, brisim, and r”l other life cycle events.
Rav Benny has been invited to speak and lecture in Batei Knesset and Yeshivot throughout Israel and the United States. Rav Benny has had the privilege and longevity to have students who are second generation talmidim, young men whose parents were students of Rav Benny.
Shortly after Pesach of 5771 (2011), Rav Benny faced a diagnosis and a new challenge – an ailment (and treatment) that challenge his physical strength. Nonetheless, having seen his share of challenges, he is faithfully and whole-heartedly committed to rising above and continuing his holy work; living life, serving God, living in the Holy Land and inspiring and loving Jews wherever they may be.

Journalistic Relativism ad Nauseum: The New York Times Strike Again

So I'm sitting in my home office this past Wednesday night, and we hear a faint siren. (The window was open). Rena gives me a puzzled, slighly worried look, and I respond, "I'm sure it's nothing. It sounds like they're running drills at Tel Nof." (The air force base close by). Then, a couple minutes later, we heard a faint "BOOM!". It wasn't nothing after all. We shrugged and went back to work.
The next morning, our cleaning lady (who came from Ashdod) told us about the rockets having fallen in and around Ashdod. Thank God, no one was hurt. Getting the news first-hand from your cleaning lady is a rather different experience than getting it from the internet.
Last night, we read about yet more rockets fired at Ashdod (and the Israeli response), and this morning, a siren in Yad Binyamin brought the family into the Mamad (protected room) for some early-morning togetherness. Moriyah quite enjoyed the sudden company. She never gets visitors like that so early.
I mention all of this as a preface to rail against the New York Times. In a "balanced" and "even-handed" piece entitled, "Israeli Drone Strike Kills Militants in Southern Gaza", the Grey Lady tells us,

GAZA — Israeli airstrikes killed seven Palestinian members of Islamic Jihad’s armed wing in southern Gaza on Saturday, according to the militant group, and Gaza militants fired salvos of rockets at cities in southern Israel, killing one Israeli man and wounding at least two others in a sudden escalation of cross-border violence.

Really? That's how it went down? It sounds like Israel, in an unprovoked attack, killed some "members of an armed wing" (read here: terrorists) for no apparent reason...."And" - that's a great word, isn't it - Gaza militants fired rockets at cities, killing Ami Moshe, 56. But that's not what really happened, is it? In fact, if you read the next sentence, you'd see that.

The Israeli military said that it had first hit a terrorist squad that was preparing to fire long-range rockets into Israel early Saturday, and that the same squad had been responsible for firing a rocket that struck late Wednesday near the Israeli port city of Ashdod.

What happened, is what always happens.
1. Terrorists fire rockets at civilians Wednesday night. Sometimes they hit something, often they don't.
2. More terrorists planned to fire additional rockets on Shabbat morning. Isreal killed them before they could fire.
3. In response to this outrageous provocation and escalation, terrorists fire even more rockets at innocent civilians, and this time killed a man who was guilty of the terrible crime of driving in his car in the Jewish State of Israel. (הי"ד)
4. Israel, outraged that someone actually got hurt (why does it always come to that?), finally gets serious and takes out one of a long list of terrorist safehouses, factories, hideouts, etc. that it's known about for ages.
5. Terrorists get even angrier, vow vengeance, and try and fire more rockets.
6. The New York Times posts an even-handed piece, careful to present the facts as seen by both sides, without bias. To wit,

Witnesses to the first raid said that an Israeli drone fired two missiles at a training site situated on sandy dunes in a former Jewish settlement near the city of Rafah, killing five. Islamic Jihad pledged that it would respond forcefully to the Israeli drone strike. Hours later, several rockets fired from Gaza slammed into the southern Israeli cities of Ashdod and Ashkelon, damaging buildings and setting fire to parked cars.

What exactly was the "training site"? Were they training for the Olympics? Was it the Gaza bobsled team? (What's the bit about "in a former Jewish settlement"? Not sure what the point of that is.) The whole article is bound by the "cycle of violence" dogma - that violence simply begets more violence; one side is no more to blame than the other; oh - and it doesn't really matter who started it.
Sorry Mrs. Times. It does matter. And these ongoing attempts at even-handed, balanced reporting to show a bias, as they obscure the true fact.
Fact 1: Terrorists in Gaza fired rockets at innocent civilians.
Fact 2: They want to provoke an incident, and want to kill civilians - men, women, children - the more the better.
Fact 3: Israel can, must, and will respond to these attacks, and doing so doesn't make us culpable in any "cycle of violence." It's called self-defense.
And, your sad attempts to simpy fit these very tragic events into your preconceived perception of the Middle East conflict only hides the true facts of life here near the Gaza border. So much for journalistic integrity. If you can't report the truth, it would be better if you didn't say anything at all.

Parshat Noach - An Honest Look at Ourselves

Audio Shiur:
Parshat Noach - An Honest Look at Ourselves

We begin the shiur by studying Netziv's famous introduction to Bereishit, in which he analyzes why Chazal called Bereishit "Sefer Hayashar." His chilling comments have powerful meaning to us today. Then, we use the background of his introduction to understand more about Noach, and about the generation of the Tower of Bavel, and why God dispersed them.

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A Letter from the Prime Minister...Sort Of

As faithful Chopping Wood readers might remember, I've been reading Yehuda Avner's powerful book "The Prime Ministers". I finally finished it. (As an aside, after all of his devotion and admiration for Menachem Begin, I marveled at the fact that he began his political career firmly entrenched in the Labor camp. It's a wonder how a high level government official on the left suddenly switched course and became an equally if not higher level official on the most right-wing of Israeli governments. What exactly were his political beliefs? And could Begin not find an English speaking aide to do the job so he needed to borrow one from the previous prime minister? Imagine the uproar if Barack Obama had retained George W. Bush's political advisers to assist him in vital government matters. But I digress.)
In any case, I was taken by the powerful chapter describing Begin's weekly shiur, and I thought to myself, "Our current Prime Minister is a big Tanach fan. His son was in the Chidon Hatanach. He'd probably like the idea of reviving the Prime Minster's shiur." So I sent him an email, from his website, suggesting the idea.
That was a while back. Well, this week I got a response, not from the PM, but from the Public affairs Department (their capitalization - really) Here's the letter:

It says:

Honorable Rabbi Spolter, first of all, we thank his honor for his communication to the Prime Minister, Mr. Netanyahu. Secondly, of course, for his important idea to reestablish the custom of Mr. Menachem Begin z"l with relation to the Tanach.
Honorable Rabbi Spolter, it is true as you note in your communication, that the Prime Minister is occupied by an exceedingly busy schedule, a matter that prevents him from participating in activities that do not directly relate to the many subject that he must deal with.
Honorable Rabbi Spolter, due to his busy schedule, the Prime Minister is not answering you personally,your communication has been transmitted to his office.
Wishing you a good year,
Shnaider Nechemia

In other words, he can't learn. He's too busy. (Except, of course, no one seems to have asked him.) Sounds just like the rest of us.

Genesis and the "Big Bang"

When I Googled "Big Bang Theory," the first result wasn't the astronomy theory I was looking for. Tells you where our culture's collective head is. In any case, Wikipedia describes the "Big Bang Theory" (the real one) in this way:

The Big Bang theory is the prevailing cosmological model of the early development of the universe. The major premise of the Big Bang theory is that the universe was once in an extremely hot and dense state that expanded rapidly (a "Big Bang"). This rapid expansion caused the young universe to cool and resulted in its present continuously expanding state. According to recent measurements, scientific evidence, and observations,the original state happened around 13.7 billion years ago (see age of the Universe), which can be referred to as the time that the Big Bang occurred.

In 1991, Dr. Gerald Schroeder, a noted physicist and lecturer published a book called, "Genesis and the Big Bang", which, according to his website, "offers convincing evidence that science's "Big Bang" creation model and the Bible's Genesis One's explanation for the creation of the universe are one-in-the-same." I love Dr. Schroeder. An engaging and fascinating figure and dynamic speaker who spoke in my former shul in Michigan, his work represents an important attempt to reconcile theology and scientific theory. But his work isn't a work of fact. Neither is the Big Bang Theory itself. It's only a scientific theory - with many possible difficulties that I personally don't understand. (Read the real Wikipedia article if you're interested.) A problem arises though, when writers and thinkers confuse theory and argument with fact, and write as if the Big Bang Theory and Creation are one and the same.
In a recent piece that appeared on the Jewish Ideas Daily website, Michael Carasik (who I don't know, but is described as "the creator of The Commentators' Bible and of the Torah Talk podcast", who "teaches at the University of Pennsylvania") opens his Torah piece ("The End of the Torah") writing,

The Torah begins with a bang—the Big Bang, the creation of the universe.  But it ends with a whimper, albeit a whimper concealed by a very loud noise of another kind.  

The piece concludes similarly,

Literarily, the Torah ends as it began, invoking the historical story of the Jewish people in a cosmic frame.  The Big Bang of Genesis 1 distracts us from the silent mystery of the instant "before" creation (if that is indeed a theologically or scientifically possible moment at all).  

Personally, I don't find the piece all that compelling and wouldn't have written about it. But Carasik's casual intermingling of the "Big Bang" with Creation does trouble me.
I have no issue with modern attempts to rectify science and theology. Yet, we must always remain cognizant of the fact that these represent attempts to reconcile theories - nothing more and nothing less. We make these attempts in an effort to accept seemingly contradictory theories, when science tells us one thing and religion another. How indeed can the universe be the product of a billions-year-old explosion when the Torah tells us that God created the world several thousands years ago? Good question. We can either reject science (not a good option in my view), reject religion (a far worse option), or try to find some way to merge the two, as Dr. Schroeder does. But, when we begin to refer to these efforts as facts, we endanger our faith by equating the two systems with each other. I'll explain.
A Torah Jew accepts axioms of faith. Creation is a pretty important one, upon which every other religious tenet rests. These principles are, by definition, eternal. They do not and will not change.
Science finds itself under no such restrictions. It creates theories based on observations and rejects them when new observations cannot be reconciled with those theories. A scientist cannot hold eternal scientific truths. She can only believe what she can see right now, and must reject a theory, no matter how ingrained, when it can no longer be proven. (Even this year, scientists have questioned the Holy of Holies of Theories: Einstein's Theory of Relativity, based on recent experiments.)
Allowing ourselves to identify a religious doctrine with a certain scientific theory creates two problems: First and foremost, it equates two very different systems of belief, one eternal and unchanging, and the other in constant flux. By definition, this cheapens the strength of our belief and faith, until we feel comfortable shifting religious philosophy and tenets of faith as we would an antiquated scientific theory. And, on a more practical level, what happens when science comes up with a new theory to replace the Big Bang which better matches new observations from even more powerful technology? Do we then say that Creation was wrong as well? After all, weren't Creation and the Big Bang one and the same?
Am I making too much out of a pithy literary attempt to frame a Torah piece on a popular website? Perhaps. But meshing theology and science is always a dangerous game which requires a very delicate touch. As we read Bereishit yet again this week, and return once again to  the mystery of Creation, let us commit ourselves to accept our own limitations, and realize that the Creation story isn't a scientific text, nor should it be. Underlying any attempt to reconcile science and faith must be a firm commitment to our religious beliefs.
Scientific theories come and scientific theories go. Today the Big Bang is an important astronomy theory, and tomorrow it will just be a bad sitcom from the early 21st century. But our faith in God, whether we can accurately explain how He created the world, remains absolute.

Kayin's Canine Companion

Can you believe the name of this place? It's real!

I get a weekly parshah piece called Netvort written by Rabbi Joshua Hoffman. This week he pointed out a Midrash I hadn't heard before.
We all know that after Kayin kills his brother and finds himself confronted by God, he says to God, גדול עווני מנשוא - "my sin is too great to bear" (Bereishit 4:13). Yet, it's not altogether clear whether in this cryptic statement Kayin fesses up to his heinous act and his statement represents a declaration of repentance, or whether he rejects God's wrath telling Him, "Sorry, it's all too much for me to worry about, God. Not my problem." (I think it's the latter, but it's a huge machloket.) In any case, God responds that, "Whoever kills Kayin will be punished seven-fold," (verse 15) and God gives a "sign" to Kayin to protect him. What sign did God give Kayin. The Midrash says,

אמר ר' יהודה - הזריח לו גלגל החמה. א"ר נחמיה - לאותו רשע היה מזריח לו הקב"ה גלגל החמה? אלא מלמד שהזריח לו הצרעת...רב אמר כלב מסר לו. אבא יוסי בן קסרי אמר קרן הצמיח לו. רב אמר עשאו אות לרצחנים. רבי חנין אמר עשאו אות לבעלי תשובה  - בראשית רבה כ"ב

Rabbi Yehudah said, [God] rose the sun for him. Rabbi Nechemia said, For that evil person would God have risen the sun? Rather, it must mean that God shone upon him leprosy. Rav said that he gave him a dog. Abba Yossi ben Kisma said that he grew a horn upon him. [Another] Rav said that he made him a sign for murderers. Rabbi Chanin said that he made him a sign for Ba'alei Teshuvah. (Bereishit Rabbah 22)

Clearly, the rabbis in the Midrash themselves couldn't agree whether Kayin had repented, and interpreted the sign that God gave Kayin in light of how they viewed his declaration. If they felt that he did repent, he got the sunrise or a "sign for Ba'alei Teshuvah" (whatever that was). If not, he got leprosy, or a horn. (Was he then the first "humacorn?" Get it: human + unicorn?)

In any case, what about the dog? Was it a sign of his repentance, or of his refusal to repent? Rabbi Hoffman notes that Ramban, who quotes the Midrash, sees the dog as a sign of Kayin's repentance, as the dog would now serve to guide him away from any dangerous animals looking to kill him.

I've got my doubts. Despite our current infatuation with dogs as pets, Chazal (as well as the Torah) didn't see dogs in a very positive light. Think of the dog references in the Torah. What do we do with treif meat? We "Throw it to the dog." When is chametz no longer forbidden? When it's no longer ra'ui l'achilat kelev - "edible by a dog", the lowest of animals.

I guess then if you're a dog owner, you'd have to agree with Ramban and see the dog as a gift. But if you're not, Kayin's dog might be more of a punishment than a gift.

An Unusual Tiyyul and Praying for Rain

Reading one of the weekly alonim (parshah sheets - but they're really more like booklets) in shul called Matzav Haruach, I noticed the pictured advertisement for an unusual (and fascinating tour) of a Matash - that's a Hebrew acronym for מפעל טיפול שמרים, which is a nice way of saying, "Sewage Treatment Plant." I often write (in another forum) about Israeli efforts involving ecology and the environment, so I'd heard about advances in this area. And if you look at the ad carefully, the price was right (read here: free). So, off we went.
That's right. Yesterday we took a fascinating tour of the Jerusalem municipality's sewage treatment plant. What exactly do they do with the sewage that you flush down the toilet? Well, after they clean it, they send it right back down the river. (Not to worry. You don't drink it.)
Did you know that 98 percent of raw sewage is water? I didn't (but do now). Well, up until not too long ago, that raw sewage just flowed out of the city and into Nachal Sorek, literally mucking up the environment. At some point, people came to their senses and realized just how disgusting and environmentally destructive that is, and they built the sewage treatment plants.
At the plant,

• The sewage is filtered about three times, first for solids, and then twice for sediment and fats
• The sediment is then biologically treated with enzymes and bacteria, which produces methane gas (see the big gold dome in the picture?) which is converted into electricity and sold back to the power grid. The sediment itself is then sold to farmers as fertilizer.



Water leaving the sewage plant

• The water, after being filtered a third time (and biologically cleaned with whatever enzymes they use), it's sent down the wadi into a system of man-made lakes that are then piped through the country for agricultural use. You might have noticed purple pipes in parks or near fields and a sign that says (Irrigation Water - do not drink!). That's essentially treated sewage water. This water source is critical for Israel's continued growth and prosperity. There's already a well-known water shortage in Israel. (My guide wasn't a big fan of the desalination plants either.) Imagine if the entire agriculture industry used tap water instead of treated sewage water...think of how low the Kineret would be then? (Think empty.) Without reusing our sewage, we would either not have crops, or not be able to shower, or possibly both.

I found the tour both informative and fascinating. Some interesting facts emerged:

Down the River it flows. Clean...Sort of.

1. The reason that you can't drink the sewage water isn't because of biological agents. Biologically, the water is clean. But they don't get out either soap or salt, so don't drink it.
2. Most streams in Israel are either raw sewage (I wouldn't hike in a Wadi between Yerushalayim and Ein Gedi if I were you. You can thank the Palestinians for that, who'd rather allow untreated sewage to flow into the environment than allow Israel to build a modern plant) or treated water. Either way, don't drink it unless you know that it's natural rainwater flow (think way up north).
3. We think that heavy rains are great for the country. While this might be true in northern areas that flow into the Kinneret and other water aquifers, it's not true about rain over much of the country. Too much rain is never good for the system. Rainwater flows into the sewage system and literally overflows the machinery. All they can do is let the sewage flow through and hope that not too much gets downriver. This fact reminded me of the famous story (see Ta'anit 3:8) of Choni Hame'agel.

מעשה שאמרו לו לחוני המעגל, התפלל שיירדו גשמים.  אמר להם, צאו והכניסו תנורי פסחים, בשביל שלא יימוקו.  התפלל, ולא ירדו גשמים.  עג עוגה, ועמד בתוכה ואמר, רבונו של עולם, בניך שמו פניהם עליי, שאני כבן בית לפניך; נשבע אני בשמך הגדול שאיני זז מכאן, עד שתרחם על בניך.  התחילו הגשמים מנטפים; אמר, לא כך שאלתי, אלא גשמי בורות שיחין ומערות.  ירדו בזעף; אמר, לא כך שאלתי, אלא גשמי רצון, ברכה ונדבה.

Once they told Choni Hame'agel, "Pray that the rain should fall." He said to them, "Go and bring your Pesach ovens indoors, so that they don't get ruined [in the rain]. He prayed, yet no rain fell. He drew a circle, stood inside it and said, "Master of the World, your children turned to You, for I am like a member of Your household. I swear in Your great name that I will not move from this spot until You have compassion upon your children." It began to drizzle, and [Choni] said, "This is not what I requested - rather [I want] rains that will fill wells, cisterns and caves." The rains fell with wrath and he said, "This [too] is not what I requested. Rather, [I want] rains of blessing and benevolence."

Choni understood that when it rains too hard, that's also not a symbol of blessing. Great downpours overwhelm the fields and wash away into the ocean without sinking into the underground cisterns. And, they even overwhelm the sewage system, washing the sewage down the wadi without having a chance to treat the water.
So, when we pray for rain this week, we shouldn't just pray for a lot of rain. We do need the rain in great quantities. But we also need it in a smooth, steady stream, so that we can collect the water, treat it properly, and use it to generate life and blessing in the Holy Land.

Have More Children! An Old Piece from the Detroit Jewish News

A former congregant (and friend) from Michigan is now the editor of Red Thread Magazine, a Jewish venture seemingly focusing on a youngish Jewish demographic. Perusing the magazine's website, I came across an article (The Price of Progeny) describing the parental dillemma of exactly how many children to have, and the advice of a New Jersey based therapist to carefully consider the question of how many children to have and their effect on one's marriage.
It's a sobering piece, and certainly one cannot ignore the statistics and the good doctor's research. But while the question of how many children to have should certainly include questions of marital and financial health, the article failed to include an important additional factor that Jews should consider in this perplexing question: faith. Put simply, it's a mitzvah to have children, and a greater mitzvah to have more children.
Then I remembered that I wrote about this once in my parshah column in the Detroit Jewish News. So I'm sharing with you the article I wrote back then (and hope to share more in the future). This piece first appeared back in 5763 (2003).

Building the World One Child at a Time
I don’t need to tell you that we, as a Jewish population, are not growing as we should be. While the Jewish population in 1970 was somewhere close to six million, we’re still hovering around that six million mark more than thirty years later. Why? It’s a rather complex question, but I can think of two pressing reasons: first and foremost, intermarriage carves a devastating chunk out of the Jewish population pie. But, there’s an equally obvious reason that we don’t have Federation studies and synagogue initiatives to counteract: American Jews simply aren’t having enough children.
Quick: What’s the first mitzvah in the Torah? To believe in God? Close, but not really. No, it must be the Ten Commandments, right? Actually, wrong again. The very first mitzvah in the Torah commands us to have children – a lot of them. The Torah tells us, “God blessed them [Adam and Eve] and God said to them, be fruitful and multiply, fill the earth and subdue it.” Be fruitful and multiply. To me, that sounds like much more than the 1.6 children Americans (and most American Jews) have nowadays.
In fact, not only is it a blessing, it’s an imperative, a mitzvah, a commandment. The Chinuch, in listing the commandment to be fruitful and multiply, explains that having children must be the first commandment in the Torah because it’s the commandment upon which all others are based. How can we fulfill the mission of the Torah – to bring spirituality and godliness into the world without doing so ourselves, in our families, with our own children?
Today we consider how many children (and whether we have children at all) to be an issue of personal choice. With the wonders of modern medicine we (if we’re blessed with the ability) can decide when to have children, how many children we want to have, and now, even whether we’re going to have children at all. Yet, the Torah reminds us that having children isn’t so much a biological question as much as a religious one: what’s my mission here on this earth? What do I want to accomplish, and can I do more? If I’m here to make sure that I enjoy myself and have a comfortable life, then I’ll put off having children, or not have them at all. But if I understand that my mission in life is be a tzelem elokim, to live in God’s image and to emulate Him to the best of my ability, I can only do that by giving to others, and we give our best to our children.
Yes, having children is hard. Raising them is even harder. But the satisfaction and love and beauty of raising children, despite the hardships, the costs, the difficulties and frustrations are more than worth it. They justify our existence in the world.
While I’m writing to all Jews, I’m really writing to you – someone who’d read the “Rabbi’s message” in the Jewish News each week. You, just because you’re reading this, must be a caring, thinking member of the Jewish community. You must be someone who wants to grow spiritually each week. That’s why you’re reading this column right now. Don’t you think that you can give some of that wonderful energy to another child?
So, have more kids! There’s no better mitzvah to begin the Torah, and the New Year!