Does A Kosher Resraurant Require Hashgachah (Supervision)?

The Jerusalem Post carried this article about a restaurant whose owner decided for ideological reasons that he didn't want rabbinical supervision. Speaking about his restaurant in the city,

Owner Noam Frankforter, an observant Jew, says that the restaurant is kosher and closed on Shabbat, but he chooses not to have a teudah for ideological reasons. "Part of the point is that I am trying to break the sense of alienation, distrust and suspicion that exists among people in today's society. I say to people who come here that if they try to get to know me, they will realize that I keep kosher."

So, is he right? Does he really need hashgachah or not?
In one sense, he's correct. Let's say that you walked into my shul Shabbat morning out of the blue. Seeing a newcomer in shul, I immediately invite you to join me in my home for lunch. Can you eat there? If you think that I'm shomer mitzvot - that I observe Shabbat and the rules of Kashrut, you sure can. You need not say, "Well, I'd love to join you. But who's your mashgiach?" That would sound kind of ridiculous. (Although I would get the occasional call asking me about the observance of a particular member and whether I felt someone could eat in their home.) In private life, halachah grants normal, observant people a chezkat kashrut - an assumption that people observe the rules of Jewish life and wouldn't intenionally serve their guests non-kosher food.
In principle, the same could apply to restaurants as well. Truth be told, if someone you know opens a restaurant and you trust their kashrut, you don't need a rabbi to tell you that it's OK. Halachically, you can eat there. But then there's the practical, real-world side of things.
First and foremost, how well do most people know the owners of restaurants? Not that well, to be honest. At most restaurants that I eat in, I don't have any idea who owns the restaurant and what his level of kashrut is. But there's a more important factor in play: money.
When someone invites you for lunch out of the goodness of his heart, he wants to welcome you, serve you good food, please you. But his livelihood is not on the line. Whether he feeds his children and sends them to day school has no bearing the level of the kashrut of the food that he feeds you.
Not so in the kosher food business. There, it's business - not pleasure, and money can cause people to make all sorts of bad decisions, all while finding very legitimate and real justifications and excuses. He might be the frummest guy in the world, well-known throughout the entire community, but with the proper set of circumstances, even the most upstanding person can find himself cutting corners. Anyone remember the Monsey meat fiasco? The OK published this retrospective, which explained that,

I spoke to someone who was involved in certifying the store, and asked him if there was a mashgiach tmidi onsite. He replied, “The owner was an orthodox observant Jew. How should I have suspected he would do this?” It is natural for us to want to trust a business owner when he seems to be a G-d fearing Jew. But we must bear in mind that every business owner is a “nogeiah bidovor” and has a vested interest in the success and profit of his business. This interest could lead anyone, chas v’sholom, to be tempted—especially when he faces other stresses in his life. So it is imperative for the kashrus agency to monitor strictly, even when the owner is a religious person.

I know personally of cases where someonne - in whose home I would eat - made compromises in kashrut in his/her business that they would never tolerate in their own homes. It's just a fact. What if a kashrut mistake would put your friend out of business? How many of us would independently make the right choice in that situation? Even when you know the person, do you know them as a businessperson? Are you sure that they would never cut corners, even at their own expense?
You might be, but I'm not. Which I why I always, always ask for a kashrut certificate. And if someone tells you he doesn't need it, something smells funny.

The Parking Lot in Yerushalayim, Chareidi Protests, and Tactics

The press here carried large reports of a huge protest that took place last Shabbat in Yerushalayim. Truthfully, the spin on the protests focused primarily and almost exclusively on the fact that the Chareidim in their protest grew violent, throwing rocks and garbage - incluing diapers - at the police.
Their tactics were clearly terrible. No one should ever protest violently. There is never a legtimate reason to throw anything - much less rocks which have the power to maim and kill (isn't that what we said about the Arabs thowing rocks at IDF soldiers?). To me though, the most depressing aspect of the entire episode is that because of their tactics, the Chareidim became their own worst enemies, placing the focus on the protest, and not on the issue itself: the opening of a parking garage in Yerushalayim on Shabbat.
Because the truth is, on the issue itself, the Chareidim are right.
The issue originated with the fact that the government closed the Old City to auto traffic on Shabbat. Essentially, so many people would come and park in the alleyways of the Old City that it became impassible. So, instead of parking in legal spaces and walking, they began parking on the sides of major thoroughfares, blocking access to emergency vehicles and the like. This only raises the question: if, by law the city of Jerusalem and all municiple offices and functions are closed on Shabbat, how then could the city open a parking garage on Shabbat? Here's the answer in this week's B'sheva newspaper (see the middle article on the bottom of page five of this link).

המשטרה נימקה את בקשתה ב"פיקוח נפש", שכן לדבריה כיוון שהרובע היהודי סגור לתנועת כלי רכב בשבתות, וגם חניון קרתא אינו פעיל בהן, הרי שהכביש הראשי העובר סמוך לחומות מתמלא ברכבים שחונים לא על פי חוק וחוסמים את נתיבי
התנועה. כיוון שכך, הכביש היחיד שאמור להיות נתיב מילוט לרכבי חילוץ והצלה במרה של אסון חלילה, חסום בשבתות, והדבר מהווה סכנה לאזרחים

The police explained their request with the reasoning of "danger to life" since, according to its claims, since the Jewish Quarter is closed to vehicular traffic on Shabbatot, and the Karta parking is also closed, the main road adjaescent to the walls [of the Old City] filled with illegally parked vehicles which blocked traffic. Thus, the only road meant as an escape route for emergency and evacuation vehicles in the case of tragedy, is blocked on Shabbat, and the matter constitutes a danger to citizens.

In other words, to ease the congestion, the police recommended opening a parking garage with easy walking access to the Old City, for free, to be manned by an non-Jewish worker. This, they thought, would make everyone happy. The visitors would park in the lot, leaving the streets unblocked. The residents of the city could not object, because it wasn't the city itself that violated Shabbat.

Actually, wrong. Who are the people who are driving into the Old City on Shabbat? Jews, of course. And while the city of Yerushalayim was technically not violating Shabbat, it was sanctioning that chillul Shabbat, which should rightfully make religious people upset. This does raise the thorny issue of coersion, which is certaily a topic of lively debate here in Israel. But I argue simply that the fact that you want to violate Shabbat need not compel the government, which legislates Shabbat observance, to sanction that behavior. It really is a grey area, which makes protest the perfect reaction to objectionable behavior. You don't like something? Protest it. That's what democracy is all about.
But what about the issue of danger? After all, it's pikuach nefesh. People's lives are in danger, right?
Again no. Is opening a parking garage the only way to deal with the problem? I agree with the Chareidim. The city should not kowtow to people parking illegally on the sides of major thoroughfares by opening city-owned parking lots. They should tow the cars (with Arab workers, of course). After enough towing, people would stop parking illegally, and either find privately-owned lots to park in (that they'd have to pay for) or park on the street legally and have to walk a little farther.

This entire episode leaves me with two reactions:
1. I'm upset that this has become only a Chareidi issue. Why do they care so much more about Shabbat than I (and those who are like me) do? Every Shabbat Observant Jew should defend and protect Shabbat, and be willing to protest its violation and desecration. While you don't get a sense of this discomfort in the English-language press (JPost, IsraelNationalNews.com), when you read the Hebrew language versions, it comes out loud and clear. Take for example this quote, which appears in the Hebrew language version of Arutz 7, but I didn't see translated into English.

ח"כ ד"ר מיכאל בן ארי (האיחוד הלאומי) מביע התנגדות לפתיחת חניון ספרא בשבת, "שבת היא אחד מערכיה הבסיסיים של היהדות, חבל שעיריית ירושלים פוגעת במה שקדוש לעם היהודי, יחד עם זאת אין מקום לאלימות ולגידופים ויש לפתור בהסכמה את הסוגיה שפוגעת בנפשם של המוני בית ישראל."

Knesset Member Dr. Michael ben Ari (Ichud Haleumi) expressed his opposition to the opening of the Safra Parking on Shabbat. "Shabbat is one of the basic values of Judaism. It is sad that the city of Jerusalem strikes against that which is holy to the Jewish nation. At the same time, there is no place for violence or cursing, and we should resolve this issue - which strikes in the souls of the masses of the House of Israel by concensus."

Even more interesting is the article that appeared in this week's Besheva, the newspaper published by Arutz 7 in Hebrew and distributed for free here in Israel. You'd think from the press reports that the city of Jerusalem went ahead with its plans to open the parking lot without consulting with anyone, and that it wanted to run roughshod over Shabbat, irrespective of the feelings of religious Jews on the matter. But that was not the case. The article in this week's B'sheva reported that,

בקשת המשטרה נדונה בפורום של מועצת העיר בנוכחות הרב נבנצל והרב שמחה קוק. הפורום דחה את הרעיון לפתוח את חניון קרתא, שכן הדבר יגרום לחילול שבת המוני, בעיקר בשל העובדה שמעל החניון ממוקם קניון ממילא, אשר יתפתה לפתוח את שעריו בשבת לנוכח ריבוי התנועה באזור.
הפתרון שהוצע ואושר לבסוף ע"י ראש העיר היה פתיחת חניון ספרא בכיכר העירייה, שנמצא סמוך לעיר העתיקה. על פי ההחלטה, על מנת לצמצם את חילול השבת למינימום, החניון יופעל חינם, המאבטחים שיעבדו בשבת יהיו גויים, ומעליות ואורות לא יופעלו. חברי הפורום קיבלו את החלטת ראש העיר בהסכמה שבשתיקה.
סגן ראש עיריית ירושלים ונציג המפד"ל, דוד הדרי, מדגיש כי ההחלטה לא התקבלה על ידי חברי הפורום, שלא נדרשו להצביע עליה. "קיבלנו את ההסברים של המשטרה על פיקוח נפש ואת הסברי ראש העיר על צמצום חילול השבת בחניון ספרא עד למינימום".

The police request was evaluated in a forum of the city council, in the presence of Rav Neventzal and Rav Simcha Kook. The forum rejected the idea to open the Karta parking, for they felt that it would cause mass Chillul Shabbat, essentially because the Mamilla mall lies above that parking structure, whose opening would entice the mall to open on Shabbat due to greater traffic in the area.
The ultimately approved solution requested by the mayor was the opening of the Safra parking structure in the municiple square, located adjaescent to the Old City. According to this decision, in order to keep the violation of Shabbat to a minimum, the parking structure would be operated free of charge and the security personnel working there would be non-Jewish, and the elevators and lighting would remain off. The members of the forum accepted the decision of the mayor through silent acquiesence.
Deputy mayor of the City of Jerusalem and Mafdal (Religious Zionist) representative David Hadari, emphasized that the decision was not accepted by the members of the forum, who were not asked to vote on it. "We accepted the explanations of the police regarding pikuach nefesh and the explanations of the mayor to try and keep chillul Shabbat in the Safra parking structure to a minimum."

Sorry, sounds really weak to me. Truth be told then, the Chareidim were not just protesting against the police. They were protesting against us - the religoius Zionist community which knew about the plan and silently stood by allowing it to happen. And they were right.
Why should we protest disengagement but not Shabbat? Do we care more about the Land of Israel than the sanctity of Shabbat? Maybe, if we want the Chareidi communities to care more about the things that are important to us, we should start caring - and protesting - over the things that are important to both of us.
2. The tactics. Ahh, the tactics. Why? Why throw garbage? Someone has to sit these people down and explain to them the power of the media, and the damage to frumkeit (and chillul Hashem) that they cause when the give the media pictures like these to beam around the world. Secular media loves nothing more than to show just how Neanderthal-like we all are, and this really doesn't help.
So what should they have done? Not protest? No - they can and must continue to protest. But peacefully. They should have brought a bunch of tables and gemaras, and given shiurim on daf yomi at the entrance to that parking lot all afternoon. They should block the driveway with a long communal minchah. And Shalosh Seudot. And a kumzitz. Until the end of Shabbat.
But just don't throw rocks or diapers. Because then you turn the discussion into one about hatred of Chareidim, and not about shemirat Shabbat.
And that doesn't help anyone or anything - much less the sanctity of Shabbat.

A Crazy Story - With a Shocking Ending

I'll admit that I didn't see this story in the Israeli Press about the Israeli woman who accidentally threw out a mattress in which she had hidden a million dollars. If you haven't seen the story, read it. It's a crazy story, and it raises so many questions: where did she get a million dollars? Why did she hide the money in her mattress? (It's so cliche!) Even crazier - and more uplifting is the ending where the article reports,

Even so, she said it could be worse. ''People have to take everything in proportion, and thank God for the good and the bad,'' she said.

But that's not exactly what she said. To Israeli reporters she said,

הלב בוכה, אבל יכול היה לקרות משהו יותר גרוע יכולנו להידרס בתאונת דרכים או לחלות במחלה ממארת. אני גם לא דודו טופז, למשל. הוא היה מתחלף איתי בכיף

"My heart cries, but much worse things could have happened. We could have gotten killed in an auto accident, or gotten sick from some terrible illness. I'm also not Dudu Topaz, for example. He would switch with me in a heartbeat."

I'm not sure which is better - the English or Hebrew version. Either way, how many of us would have that attitude?

Audio Shiur: Parshat Shelach - To Tell the Truth?

Audio Shiur:

Parshat Shelach - To Tell the Truth?
The story of the spies raises the challenging question of whether to tell the truth or not: in public life, in military and political matters, and even in our personal lives.

Click here for the audio link, or listen in the handy audio player supplied below.

Swimming? Booorrriinng....

I was watching this segment from a recent 60 Minutes (that's actually a rerun) about Olympic Gold Medal Swimmer Michael Phelps, who said that he spent literally thousands and thousands of hours, staring at a black line in a pool, swimming.
All I could think was, "Jeez. How boring!"
Now don't get me wrong. I think that swimming is a wonderful form of exercise - easy on the joints and great for cardiovascular fitness. But, as opposed to training for a marathon or biking long distance, or even track, when you train for swimming your head is stuck in the pool, for hours on end with nothing to distract you from...the water, other than the count of how many laps you've swum.
It seems to me that it would also be a little more interesting if they stuck you in a lake and told you to swim from one side to the other. But going up and back and up and back - I just don't see it.
When I was a student at YU, I actually used the pool every day after class. It was great excercise, and it even got me out of a gym requirement, and I lost twenty pounds without even trying. But it was boring as spit drying on a log. (And that's boring.) I finally asked Rav Schachter if I could review that day's gemara shiur in my head in the pool while I swam, even though I would not be wearing a kippah. He said "sure", and it helped a little.
But it didn't change the fact that swimming is still boring. Especially if you're going to do it for long stretches.

The Halachic Work Ethic - Work IV

Imagine the following scenario:
You work for a religious boss at an hourly rate. Included in your work agreement is a short lunch break, but only for lunch. One day, your boss walks in towards the end of lunch and notices that you've been reciting the entire bentching. He becomes irate and starts screaming at you: "You're wasting my time! I pay you to work and you sit around bentching!" When you begin to claim that bentching is actually part of "eating" (he should theoretically agree, as he is a religious man), he says, "Sure, but not the WHOLE THING!" If you want to bentch, that's fine, but all the "harachamans" the now comprise the second half of birkat hamazon are extra, and I can say them on my own time. When you suggest that you can get back to work screwing in widgets and recite the rest of the bentching by heart, he again refuses, claiming that you won't be able to concentrate fully on my job if you're bentching.
That's when you lose it: "You're supposed to be a frum guy! How can this not be part of bentching? Let's go ask a shialoh, and whatever the rav says we'll do. If he tells me to stop half-way through bentching, I'll agree, but there's no way he's going to agree with you!"
You make the call. What do you think that the rav would say?
It's a pretty safe bet to assume that the Rav will take the worker's side. After all, first of all, he wants to finish bentching! Moreover, is it really such a long period of time? What kind of boss won't give his employee the three extra minutes to bentch?
And yet, if you look in the Shulchan Aruch - that's right, the code of Jewish law, things are not at all clear. In Orach Chayyim 192 Rabbi Yosef Karo writes,

פועלים העושים מלאכה אצל בעל הבית, א מקצרין בבהמ"ז, כדי שלא לבטל מלאכת בעל הבית; כיצד, ברכה ראשונה כתקנה, ושנייה פותח בברכת הארץ (א) וכולל בה בונה ירושלים וחותם בברכת הארץ, ואין אומרים ברכת הטוב והמטיב (ב) כלל. בד"א, (ג) כשנוטלים שכר על מלאכתן מלבד הסעודה, אבל אם אין נוטלים שכר אלא הסעודה שאוכלים לבד, מברכין כל ד' ברכות כתקנן

Workers employed by the master of a house must shorten their blessing after meals, so that they do not waste the work of the master. How is this done? They recite the first blessing in its entirety, and the second blessing begins with the blessing on the Land and he includes in it the construction of Jerusalem, and he concludes with the blessing on the Land. And he does not say the [fourth] blessing of "Who is good and brings goodness" at all. When does this rule apply? When the workers receive payment for their work aside from the meal. But if their only payment is the meal that they are eating, then they recite all four blessings as they were instituted.

Don't get too excited. In the very next halachah, the Shulchan Aruch writes that nowadays no one is so meticulous a boss that he won't let his workers finish the actual text of birkat hamazon. Yet, the original halachah is actually a direct quote from the Gemara (Berachot 16a) which is also cited by Rambam (Hilchot Berachot 2:2). Yet, what i find so interesting is the work ethic underlying the halchah.
The gemara assumes that when I take a job to work for someone at an hourly rate, I'm on the clock. My time is now his time, which makes sense, because he's paying for it. But that principle goes so far, that I don't even have the right to recite any additional, unnecesary aspect of bentching, to the point that the rabbis made special accomodations for workers - in essence designing an entirely new type of brachah, just so that the workers could get back to the job.
Contrast that with our sense of work ethic today.
When I was in high school, I got a job at a local software shop that designed recruiting software for the US Army. My brother-in-law worked there, and he helped me get the job. First I did all kinds of research for them, but eventually they decided that I could handle a software mop-up project that required going through a zillion routines and making simple changes in the code. It was great money, and I wasn't a counselor in summer camp. I was happy.
Well, they just stuck me in an office which had an empty desk. There were a couple of other people in the office, and I have vivid memories of other workers - one particular woman in fact, who would come into the office sometime early in the morning, and just hang around and shmooze literally all morning. I even remember her once staying so long that she finally only left when it was lunchtime. And I'd sit there, changing my code wondering, don't these people get paid.
Now I was no angel. I could chat a little as well. But there was also a frum guy there who would literally not talk to anyone at all. He had a Talmudic work ethic. He was being paid to work - so he worked. Ironically, while people respected him for his computer knowledge, I can't say that they really related to him, which is also important if you want to advance in an office environment.
I was just struck by how far we've sunk. What happened to the work ethic of bentching; a sense that if you're being paid by the hour, you work a full hour? Somehow over time that's been lost. And I'm not sure that our society is better off because of it.

Audio Shiur: Parshat Beha'alotecha - Miriam and Humility

Audio Shiur:

Parshat Beha'alotecha - Moshe, Miriam and Humility
The story of Miriam's lashon hara - while short, comprises some critical themes in Beha'alotecha. Why were they talking about Moshe? How did he react? How was he different than they? All of these questions lead us towards understanding not only how Moshe was different, but how we can strive towards humility today.

Click here for the audio link, or listen in the handy audio player supplied below.

Right-Wing Reactionism: Why Can't We Be Civil?

It's hard to be a right-winger nowadays.
Yes, I find the recent pressure that the Obama administration has been putting on Israel very upsetting. If you've been reading this blog, you'll know that I think that lumping all settlements together denies realities on the ground. You cannot compare huge cities with thousands of residents to trailer parks surrounding a mound of dirt. And I really don't agree with the notion that Israel has to make concessions while the Palestinians sits idly by waiting for Obama to pressure Bibi to hand over the keys to the kingdom.
But right-wingers are just nuts.
Yesterday I noticed on Hirhurim an ad for a protest that was to take place in Yerushalayim yesterday afternoon. It just so happens that we were planning on being in town to meet someone for dinner anyway, so for a brief moment, Rena and I considered bringing the kids to the protest. I'm really glad that we didn't, especially after I saw the article about the protest i the Jerusalem Post.
I certainly respect and agree with the opinion of Rabbi Shalom Gold, who said,

"Mr. Obama, we started demonstrating 16 years ago," said Rabbi Shalom Gold, the founder of Kehillat Zichron Ya'acov in Jerusalem's Har Nof neighborhood, alluding to the early days of the Oslo Accords. "You were in your '30s and you probably didn't know the first thing about Eretz Yisrael... but we're part of God's divine plan, we're here and we're staying here!"

But the protest itself, and the imagery portaying Obama as anti-semitic and anti-Israel, are just over the top.

The Jewish National Front, which is backing the protests, said in a statement: "We decided to launch a campaign against the president of the United States and to say that Barack Hussein Obama is bad for the Jews."
"From the moment that he entered the White House, we have been feeling anti-Semitism and hatred toward Israel."

Really now? Anti-semitism? Do you know how many Jews serve in Obama's administration? You might not like or agree with Rahm Emanuel. But he's pretty Jewish. Very Jewish. Oh, and hatred towards Israel? Every time someone says something you don't like, all of the sudden he's a Jew-and-Israel-Hater?
And then I read this article, about people sending hate mail to officers of the IDF.
These types of displays do nothing for those who seriously disagree with the change in American policy. They allow those who disagree with us to deligitimize us as "crazies" who will stop at nothing to achieve their goals. They feed into the worst stereotypes of "settler youth" and right-wing activists. And if they don't stop their hateful and bigoted rhetoric, they'll soon find that they themselves their own worst enemies.
Just to be clear: Mr. Obama, I believe that you are a friend of Israel, and abhor those who would call you anti-Semitic. I thank you for your support of Israel, and respect your desire to promote goodwill throughout the Middle East. I also find your desire for even-handedness and honesty refreshing.
In that spirit, I invite you to see the truth about the settlements you demand halt all construction. While our Arab neighbors certainly don't like them, they are not the obstacle to peace. Until all moderate Arab nations overcome their instinctive hatred of Israel and accept our right to be here, in God's promised land permanently, speaking of peace deals, concessions and the like seems incredibly naive. Furthermore, your view of Arab demands and expectations seems especially shortsighted from this side of the Atlantic Ocean.
Is it really so hard to disagree with civility?

Trumpets of Praise and Prayer: Devar Torah for Beha'alotecha

This past Tuesday, the entire population of Israel participated in a "drill", simulating an attack on Israel. At 11am, sirens sounded throughout the country, and children in schools, people in offices – basically everyone – was supposed to find their protected space and get there. Did they do it? No idea. I was actually already working in our Mamad (I don't remember what the acronym stands for, but that's what you call it). But as the siren sounded and I continued to work I thought, "I don't remember ever having to do this in America." ("Duck and cover" was long before my time.)
The siren also reminded me of a different type of "sounding" mentioned in this week's parshah. (For those of you outside of Israel, this week we read Beha'alotecha, as Shabbat was not a day of Yom Tov. So even though you'll be reading Parshat Naso, in Israel we'll be a week ahead until you catch up in about a month.) I'm sharing a thought that Rav Gutel, Orot's President, mentioned at Orot's Yom Yerushalayim lunch and lecture this week.
One of the more famous "religious Zionist" verses in the Torah appears in this week's Torah reading. We read,

וְכִי-תָבֹאוּ מִלְחָמָה בְּאַרְצְכֶם, עַל-הַצַּר הַצֹּרֵר אֶתְכֶם--וַהֲרֵעֹתֶם, בַּחֲצֹצְרֹת; וְנִזְכַּרְתֶּם, לִפְנֵי ה' אֱלֹקֵיכֶם, וְנוֹשַׁעְתֶּם, מֵאֹיְבֵיכֶם. וּבְיוֹם שִׂמְחַתְכֶם וּבְמוֹעֲדֵיכֶם, וּבְרָאשֵׁי חָדְשֵׁיכֶם--וּתְקַעְתֶּם בַּחֲצֹצְרֹת עַל עֹלֹתֵיכֶם, וְעַל זִבְחֵי שַׁלְמֵיכֶם; וְהָיוּ לָכֶם לְזִכָּרוֹן לִפְנֵי אֱלֹקיכֶם, אֲנִי ה' אֱלֹקיכֶם.

And when you go to war in your land against the adversary that oppresses you, then you shall sound an alarm with the trumpets; and ye shall be remembered before the Hashem your God, and you shall be saved from your enemies. Also in the day of your gladness, and in your appointed seasons, and in your new moons, you shall blow with the trumpets over your burnt-offerings, and over the sacrifices of your peace-offerings; and they shall be to you for a memorial before your God: I am the Hashem your God.' (Bamidbar 10:9-10)

These verses have taken on such significance that the Israeli Chief Rabbinate instituted that we read the first as part of the davening on the evening of Yom Ha'atzmaut.
Looking at the two verses, you get the sense that these are two related but different commandments. The first relates to the blowing of the trumpets during times of distress and war. We blow the trumpets as a kind of prayer; a form of calling out to Hashem to save us in our time of need. The second verse alludes to a very different trumpeting. When we sound the trumpets on holidays and Rosh Chodesh, the soundings serve as a kind of praise for Hashem. Think of it (lehavdil) as a form of "Hail to the Chief" sounded in the Beit Hamikdash. The two verses describe the same activity, but serve decidedly different functions. Or so we think.
Many hundreds of years ago, someone asked the Ritva (Rabbi Yom Tov ben Aderet) why they didn't blow trumpets on fast days. After all, if the purpose of blowing the trumpets was to call out to Hashem in timed of need, the Middle Ages in France certainly qualified. He explained that the French custom not to blow trumpets was based on the understanding that the trumpets could only be blown in the Beit Hamikdash. The two verses are not separate mitzvot, unconnected and unrelated. Rather, they are inherently connected and constrained by the same set of rules. Rav Moshe Feinstein (see Igrot Moshe Orach Chayyim Volume 1: 169) uses this principle to explain why the Rambam, in his list of commandments, lists the blowing of the trumpets not as two commandments, but as one (positive mitzvot, number 59). Rav Moshe explains that Rambam too considered the trumpets of both travail and celebration to be one and the same mitzvah.
If so, then even when we blow the trumpets crying out to Hashem for salvation, we still do so as a form of praise (like the trumpets of joy). And when we blow the trumpets of Yom Tov in celebration, there's a measure of supplication and prayer as well.
To me, this makes sense on a deeper level as well. Even as we celebrate the holidays with korbanot and joy, don't we need to call out to Hashem for his continued support and guidance? Even when we recite Hallel, a prayer clearly focusing on praise of Hashem, we still cry out, אנא ה' הושיע נא – "please Hashem, help us!" And by the same token, as we turn to face our enemies who attack us from without and blow the trumpets to cry out to Hashem for help, should there not also be an element of thanks and praise as well? After all, we have the benefit of crying out from Yerushalayim, the seat of holiness for the entire world. We enjoy the spiritual solace of worshiping Hashem in the Beit Hamikdash. Even in our worries, we must also give thanks for the blessings that we still enjoy.
Praise and prayer, crying out and giving thanks – so often in life they make up two sides of the same coin.
Which brings me back to the siren in that Mamad. Sure, it's terrible that we have to sound the "trumpet" of attack, preparing the population for an enemy that stands at our borders, always searching for new and more devious ways to destroy us. But in that siren, is there not also a measure of praise as well? Sure, I never heard such a siren while living in America. But this year I have the merit to not simply read about it on JPost.com or in a Devar Torah. I heard these sirens from my home in Eretz Yisrael.
And for that I will continue to give Hashem my unending thanks.

The Truth about the "Settlements"

We need to stop talking about settlements in a broad stroke. Sure, there are settlements in the classical sense. There are small communities on hilltops, and little outposts with caravans. But most of the population living in Yehudah and Shomron don't live in settlements. They live in cities and towns just like you, and the quicker we get that into peoples' consciousness, the better off we'll all be.
The world clearly likes the image that it has of "settlements." They're filled with a bunch of renegade Israeli crazies, hell-bent on holding onto any and every piece of land to fulfill God's promise to the Jewish people. Truth be told, I guess I'm one of those "nutjobs." Witness the picture associated with the article in the New York Times in this article. Who wouldn't be against crazy masked bare-chested settlers brandishing sticks. (Note to bored Israeli youth: please stop. You're not helping. Take off the masks, put on a shirt, and go back to school. Thank you.)
But in the real world, the vast majority of "settlers" want nothing more than a normal life. Writing about Kfar Tapuach, the article itself (far less inflammatory than the headline) states,

Revitalized from within, the community also attracted young couples from other settlements and from cities in Israel who were seeking a lifestyle that combined relatively cheap suburban comfort with the national-religious ideal of settling the land.

It's about Eretz Yisrael, sure. But it's also about affording a house and living in a place where your kids have parks and can run around freely. And it's not as simple as most Americans, including our President, think. How entwined is my life in the "settlements"?

• I work in a settlement, in a college just over the Green Line, in Elkana. It sits on a hilltop from which you can literally see Tel Aviv on a clear day. The notion of giving that land to the Arabs, from which they wouldn't need missles - they could just shoot mortars - is an absurd and untenable proposition. But I digress.
• My brother lives in a settlement - called Modiin Illit - but we call it Kiryat Sefer, together with 40,000 other Chareidi "settlers." That's the biggest badly-kept "secret" of all: most "settlers" live there not because of political views, but cheap housing. What does Barack Obama suggest we do with an entire city of 50,000 people. (Yes, I know I said 40,000, but with the birthrates in Kiryat Sefer, it probably grew significantly in the time it took you to read this article.)
• Our cousins - another Chareidi couple - are "settlers" - living in Beitar Illit, another huge city that has very little to do with settlements.
• Good friends of ours have "settled" across the land - in Ma'aleh Adumim, Ariel, Gush Etzion, Givat Ze'ev, Talmon and other places.

It's difficult to express just how entrenched Israeli life is in all of these places. They're places people live and work. Calling them "settlements" and demonizing the people that live and work there won't change that fact.