The Tables Have Turned

At the end of Ma'ariv on Friday evening, our Rav stood at the Bimah and noted the tense situation in a kosher store in Paris, asking the shul to recite two chapters of Tehillim on behalf of the Jews of France. He proceeded to open the ark and lead the congregation in heartfelt prayer; at that time we had no idea of the tragic outcome.

During the Tehillim, I found myself struck by a fascinating, albeit strange feeling. From the time that I was born, I was raised as a "galut" Jew to pray for the people of Israel. I have vivid memories of reciting Tehillim in grade school during the first Lebanon War. Some shuls in the United States have simply added a permanent chapter of Tehillim to the end of every davening for "the situation" - whatever's going on in the world, there's some situation in Israel.

But on this Friday night, the tables were turned. We were praying for the welfare and well-being of Jews in the Diaspora. And we, the people of Israel, are offering them safe haven from danger.

Israeli Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu immediately called for the Jews of France to come home to Israel, where they will be welcomed with open arms. Truth be told, can one truly argue that these immigrants will be safer here in Israel than in France? We've got our share of terrorism, and Muslim extremism isn't a French or European issue by any means. 

Still, while people are murdered for being Jews both in Paris in Jerusalem, the Jews in Israel murdered by terrorists not only died for being Jewish: they fully lived their lives as Jews as well.

Persistence

Each of us, in our own way, suffered – and continues to suffer – as the slow passage of time edges us away from the horrible murders in Har Nof. In an age of instantaneous media, the images are now firmly etched into our psyches: of blood stained tallitot and siddurim; a lifeless hand still wrapped in Tefillin. I haven’t tried to make sense of the events in my own mind because I know that any such attempt would represent an exercise in futility. There is no sense to be made in abject hatred. There’s no logical explanation, no legitimacy possible for the murder of Talmidei Chachamim as they pray Shemeh Esreh. But there is a response; not a military or police response. Those tasks are left to others. Rather, our response must follow the response of the residents of Har Nof, who undoubtedly did what those four scholars would have insisted they do; what they would have done themselves; what we all did:
They got up in the quiet of the morning and went to daven. In shul.
Daily minyan isn’t one of the more glamourous aspects of Jewish life, but it might very well be its anchor. A shul – any shul – no matter how many members it may boast, no matter how many outside scholars it welcomes, no matter how lavish its kiddushim may be – is only as strong as the daily minyan. The act of rising, each and every day, to try and commune with God before (and after) the day begins together with the larger communit, represents both an individual dedication and desire to live a pious life, together with a recognition that we find our great religious meaning not in the bombastic moments of exciting ritual; not in the Bar Mitzvah or wedding, and not even only in the passion of the Yamim Noraim; but in the rigor of repetition of ritual, day in and day out. It is the daily davening and the daf yomi that makes us who we are. Without them, we lack the bedrock foundation that gives us both strength and a true, deep-rooted connection to God.
This week, terrorists, knowingly or not, attacked this bedrock of Jewish living. They were probably looking for the easiest target available, but in that effort focused on people who dedicated their very existence to maintaining this anchor of the Jewish condition, not only through prayer, but through their ongoing, ceaseless devotion to Talmud Torah, built over uncountable hours of study in the Beit Midrash, again invested without pomp or fanfare or nary a Facebook post or Tweet. It was these attributes of Judaism that were attacked in that quiet shul in Jerusalem: a dogged persistence to prayer, a steadfast devotion to Torah study, and an untiring dedication to religious ritual that has sustained the Jewish nation through two millennia of exile.
Thus, the most fitting response – the only response – is exactly how the people of Har Nof, of Jerusalem – of Jews throughout the world – did indeed respond. We went back to shul that night, and the very next morning. We maintained our vigil. We make it clear, each and every day, that no matter how many of our enemies rejoice and celebrate at the sight of murdered Jews, no matter how many candies they distribute or garish cartoon they publish, we will continue to rise early each morning to reestablish our relationship with God.
This vigil – the persistence – represents the strongest reason why those Jews are now living in Jerusalem, in Har Nof today. For thousands of years, Jews have risen each and every morning to pray to God: ולירושלים עירך ברחמים תשוב – “return us to Jerusalem, Your city, in compassion.” ותחזינה עיננו בשובך לציון ברחמים – “May our eyes witness Your return to Zion with compassion.” After so many centuries of heartfelt prayer, someone, armed with the divine blessing of God, decided that it was time to transform those prayers into reality. God returned, and so did we.
It was that persistence that brought us here, and it’s that very same persistence that will keep us here. So, the morning after the murders, Jews across Jerusalem, and around the world, rose early in the morning once again for daily prayers. We were all a little heartbroken, a little at a loss for words. But we went to shul, because that’s what we do. We didn’t do it to tell our enemies anything. We didn’t do it to send a message. But, in our daily acts of devotion, we do indeed broadcast to the world in a loud, clear voice: We aren’t going anywhere.

The True Cause of Antisemitism

Gilad Field shared this on his Facebook page. It's worth reading, sharing and internalizing.

On the verse: "An [Esav] fell on [Yaakov's] neck and he kissed him and he cried, Rashi quoted the Midrash: Said Rabbi Shimon bar Yochai: It is a halachah (a ruling): It is known that Eisav hates Yaakov.
Hagaon R' Menachem Ziemba (who was killed in the Holocaust - for a bio of Rav Ziemba, see here - thanks Rabbi Uri Cohen!) explained:
It is well known that Rabbi Shimon consistently attemted to derive the underlying explanation for the verses, and her wished to give a reason why Eisav hated Yaakov, and more broadly, why do the nations of the world hate the Jews. The "intellectual" reasons that the nations always give always contradict each other. In one instance the explanation is because [the Jews] follow the commandments, and another time its because they abandon the Torah and try to emulate the nations. In one instance their great wealth is the reason, and at the same time they accuse the Jews of being poor and lazy, etc, etz.
In the end, Rabbi Shimon arrives at the conclusion that the hatred of the nations for the Jewish people has no rational explanation. Rather, it's a halachah - a stated ruling, issued by God, so that we do not assimilate among the nations.

Shabbat "Aliyah" in Antwerp 1 - The Airport

I was sent to Antwerp, Belgium this Shabbat, representing the Jewish Agency for what they called Shabbat Aliyah. Apparently, they send representatives out to communities around the world on Shabbat Lech Lecha (seems to be an appropriate parshah) to try and encourage aliyah and a connection to Israel. (I'm not sure that they did such a great job advertising the program. Just google "shabbat aliyah bnei akiva")

I wonder how much a person can do in a single Shabbat. Probably not much. But if you’re part of a larger effort; if you’re one gear in a much larger machine – then every little bit really does help.

I still find myself impressed that the State of Israel sent me to another country to encourage Jews to connect to the country. There’s no other country in the world that actively seeks out people to come emigrate; no country in the world that cares enough for its people – and Jews are Israel’s people – that it spends fantastic sums to try and encourage its people to return home.

At the airport, I a “chutz-la’aretz” experience which I shared with the students who I spoke with over the weekend. As soon as I got into the security line in Ben Gurion, I found myself standing next to a group of travelers – probably about fifteen or twenty men and women (and a few teens), mostly between the ages of forty and sixty. Yet, the group was striking for their sheer size. They were all quite tall; the men must have all been six-three or above; the women were all at least as tall as me. They were imposing, just standing there, in the line next to mine, at the Ben Gurion Airport security line. Listening for a few moments, it became clear that they were speaking German, and a thought flash of recognition – or maybe identification in some small way – raced through my mind.

It was a long wait on line. And as we stood there, we began to chat, as people on line often do. They were indeed German, and wonderful people, on their way home from a week-long vacation. It just so happened that there was a frum woman standing behind me with a baby in a stroller, and after she asked me about my upcoming trip, she turned to the woman behind me, assuming that we were travelling together and assumed, aloud, that she too would be traveling with me.

“Oh no,” she said, “we’re not from the same family.” But then she added, in a slightly lower tone that I clearly heard but doubt the woman from Germany caught, “At least not in directly. But we are in the larger sense.”

Hearing her comment, I turned to and wondered, “Were you thinking what I was thinking?”

She didn’t miss a beat. “Exactly the same thing.”

The Real Cause of Anti-Semitism: A Vort from the Netziv on Parshat Balak

This year in particular, we're feeling the sting of antisemitism more profoundly than we're used to. From the international focus and condemnation of Israel, to the world-wise rise of Jew hating, to the overt Israel-bashing from Iran, it's becoming alarmingly acceptable to disdain the Jews. All this despite the continued hard work of tens of alphabetic Jewish Organizations from the ADL to the SWC (Simon Wiesenthal Center. OK, that acronym I made up) to the JCRC? Why, if we're working so hard to combat hatred of the Jews, do things still seem to be getting worse?
The Netziv, commenting on our parshah, offers a striking answerIn his famous blessing of the Jewish people Bilam said:

הן עם לבדד ישכן, ובגויים לא יתחשב

"lo, it is a people that shall dwell alone, and shall not be reckoned among the nations" (Bamidbar 23:9)

What did Bilam mean when he said this? What does it mean for the Jewish nation to dwell alone? Commentaries throughout the ages interpreted this phrase in different ways, adjusting their interpretations for the times in which they lived. (listen to this year's shiur to learn more).
One very striking interpretation is the commentary of the Netziv in Ha'amek Davar, who offers a novel reading of this phrase, writing (in his comments to Bereitshit 15)

"המה מבקשים לכלותינו, הוא בשביל שאנו מבקשים להתערב עמהם. וכבר ניבא על זה בלעם 'הן עם לבדד ישכון ובגוים לא יתחשב'. ובארנו שאם יהיה לבדד ולא ירצה להתערב עמהם, ישכון במנוחה. ובזמן שהוא בגוים שמתערב עמהם, לא יתחשב בעיני אומות העולם ואין לו תקומה ביניהם. וזה בתורת השגחה מן שמים שיהיה כן"

They wish to destroy us - and the reason for this is because we want to intermingle with them. Bilam already prophesized about this when he said, "lo, it is a people that shall dwell alone, and shall not be reckoned among the nations". And we explained that if [Israel] will be "alone" and not wish to mix with them, then "he will dwell" in tranquility. And at the time that he is "among the nations", then "he will not be reckoned" in the eyes of the nations of the world, and he has no stature among them. This is a matter of divine providence from heaven that this should be so.

In his commentary to our parshah, Netziv offers a chilling additional, tragically prophetic point:

אינו נחשב בעיניהם כלל כאדם...והרי כקוף בצורת האדם

He is not considered in their eyes at all like a human being, and he is like a monkey in the form of a human being.

(There's a long, important essay that I skipped during the ellipsis within which he explains his logic, but I don't have the time to translate the whole thing.)
It's frightening to think about Netziv's point: when we try to act like the nations of the world, instead of liking us more, the world only hates and derides us, to the point that they consider us subhuman; animals in human form.

How tragically, chillingly prophetic were his words, written towards the end of the 19th century, only decades before the rise of the Nazi regime that followed his prediction precisely.
This truly is the struggle of our time: what does it mean to be a Jew? How must a Jew live? What is the definition of Judaism? Torah Jews point to the words of the Netziv as frightening truth. The more we try to be "like them", to assimilate, westernize, and abandon our holy tradition, the more we hurt ourselves.
Assimilation doesn't just destroy the Jews from within. According to the Netziv, it's the most powerful cause of anti-Semitism known to man.

Jew-Hating in Japan

So I'm listening to 60 Minutes on my Ipod, and there's a story about how a member of the Yakuza (that's Japanese Mafia, or so 60 Minutes says) bought a liver transplant at UCLA. The story was originally reported by an American journalist living in Japan named Jake Adelstein. It's an interesting report - nothing that surprising about the fact that people with money find ways to get what they need. But one quote caught my attention.

Adelstein wrote the story for "The Washington Post" and it eventually made its way back to Japan. The news infuriated the Yakuza bosses. For Goto, it was a humiliating blow from which he would never recover.
"I heard from someone very close to him that as he was leaving and getting in his car he said, 'That goddamn American Jew reporter, I wanna kill him,'" Adelstein said.

I wonder: why did the Yakuza boss identify him as a Jew reporter? Has he ever met a Jew, much less seen one in person? I don't know anything about Adelstein, but it seems difficult to imagine that he lives a religious life. Actually, if you read the interview about him on the Amazon page hawking his book it's pretty clear that there's nothing Jewish about him other than his name. Why then does he suddenly become the American Jew Reporter? What do the Japanese mafia have against the Jews?
Just wondering.