Emor: The Hardest Switch

This post is dedicated in memory of my father Yaacov Zev Yisreal ben Shmuel.

I’d like to share (or more accurately, reshare) something I wrote this time of year back in 2022, but I have updated the sad statistics for this year.

In other countries, the Remembrance Day (Yom HaZikaron) of fallen soldiers and the Independence Day occur on two separate days of the year (in the US for example Memorial Day is at the end of May and Independence Day is July 4th). In Israel, the Knesset decided that the Independence Day needs to begin the moment that Remembrance Day ends. This is because the State of Israel wouldn’t be able to celebrate its existence if it weren’t for those who gave their lives for it. We wouldn’t be able to have one of those days without the other one. In Israel we honor their memory and everything they fought for, so that the very next day (on Yom Ha’atzmaut), we can celebrate our independence.

Right to left: Memorial flame for Yom Hazikaron and the traditional festive “mangal” (bbq) the very next day on Yom Haatzmaut.

Last week we observed Yom Hashoa (Holocaust Remembrance Day) and remembered the 6 million Jews murdered in the Holocaust. Then on Monday we observed Yom Hazikaron (Memorial Day for Israel’s fallen soldiers and victims of terror attacks). According to the statistics published this week on The Times of Israel (TOI), One thousand six hundred soldiers and civilians were killed in combat or by terror since Israel’s last Memorial Day, according to figures released by authorities on Sunday, marking the deadliest year for the country’s security forces and civilians in five decades, and bringing the total tally of casualties to 30,140.

TOI also reported that according to the Defense Ministry, 766 soldiers were killed while serving in the military during the past year (sadly this number has risen higher since that figure was published). Another 61 disabled veterans died due to complications from injuries sustained during their service in previous years, the ministry said.

The numbers brought the total to 25,040 of those who have died during service to the country since 1860, the year from which Israel, and before it the Jewish community in the region, began counting its fallen soldiers.

Amid the ongoing war which began on October 7 with the Hamas terror group’s onslaught in southern Israel, 716 soldiers and members of security forces have been killed. They include 603 IDF soldiers, 39 local security officers, 68 police officers, and six Shin Bet members.

And then on Tuesday we celebrated Yom Ha’atzmaut (Israel’s 76th Independence Day) with song and dance, festive prayer, and music and the waving of Israeli flags and great food (the traditional Sredni family BBQ) and much more.(Although overall the celebrations in Israel were toned down considerably due to the war and the fact that Israel still has over a hundred hostages being held in Gaza).

Anyway, the feeling is that this is all too much and way too close together -especially this tragic year! How can we process all of this in such a short span (just a matter of day)? How can we go from the somberness of Yom Hashoa & Yom Hazikaron straight into the joy of Yom Ha’atzmaut? How do we so quickly make that mental “switch”?

Cartoonist Shay Churka draws himself making the mental “switch” from Yom Hazikaron to Yom Haatzmaut.

The late Rabbi Dr. Abraham Twerski (a noted Rabbi, psychologist and self-help author) once wrote as follows:

In this week’s Torah porition of Emor we have the mitzvah (commandment) of sefirat ha’omer (counting the Omer). God instructed the Jews to count forty-nine days, and this would then lead to the revelation and giving of the Torah at Sinai.

There were many miracles at the exodus, but the greatest miracle of all was that a people that had been enslaved, degraded, and dehumanized were able, within a few short weeks, to be transformed to the highest level of spirituality, to declare “We will do and we will listen. (Naase ve’nishma)” How could so radical a change be achieved?

The answer is the mitzvah of sefira, to count one day at a time, and on each day, rectify a particular spiritual shortcoming. The Torah is teaching us that no challenge is so great that it cannot be successfully overcome if only it is broken down to manageable morsels.

The yetzer hara (evil instinct) tells a person, “There is no way you can be a tzaddik. The Torah’s demands cannot possibly all be met.” Our response should be, “I only have to do that today, and that is manageable. I’ll deal with tomorrow’s challenges tomorrow. One day at a time.”

***

I believe that’s also the answer also to the emotional roller coaster ride we have all been on since October 7th through Yom Hashoa and Yom HaZikaron only to immediately (the very next day) celebrate the joyous Yom Ha’atzmaut.

Yes, taken as one block this is all too much to consume. True, it is difficult to just flip the the switch from being somber to celebrating, but we are able to make such a switch because we take each day for what is, days of memorial and then a day of celebration. One day at a time.

When I was doing my MA in Creative Writing at Bar-Ilan University some years ago, we had a class on Jewish-American literature and the question was asked ‘What makes someone a ‘Jewish-American writer’?

After a long debate, we reached the conclusion that it was not the “Jewish” or “American” part that was interesting but the hypen the “-” in between the words that was fascinating.

If I may apply that logic to Yom Hazikaron-Yom Ha’atzmaut, what makes us, the people of Israel in the independent State of Israel tick is that same hyphen which represents the “switch” that we flick from going from Rememberance to Independence. Rabbi Twerski was right about “one day at a time” but when one day finishes we know how to make that difficult flick of the switch to the next one, the one of celebration.

Shabbat Shalom

Kedoshim: Shabbat VeHadarta

This post is dedicated in memory of my father Yaacov Zev Yisrael ben Shmuel, and my paternal grandfather, Shmuel ben Shimon Tzvi, whose Yortzeit is today, Aleph Iyar.

 Israeli journalist Sivan Rahav Meir shared the following thought a few years ago she got from Naama Lahav:

“Have you noticed that on Holocaust Remembrance Day, Memorial Day, and Independence Day everyone looks for old people to talk to? Yes, old people. For schools, for radio and television interviews, for public gatherings. Someone who escaped from Treblinka, someone who guarded at night in the orchards of a kibbutz, someone who made aliyah as a ten-year-old girl under impossible circumstances. Suddenly a grieving mother from the Yom Kippur War or a pioneer who helped establish a settlement decades ago receive unsurpassable honor, respect, and attention. We sit in our living room or in our car or with our cell phone in hand and listen slack-jawed to unbelievable stories. We contemplate these individuals with astonishment — they endured all of this? Such incredible lives, such unimaginable strength, how much we can learn from them. I think it is to these people that the Torah referred in this week’s Torah portion, Kedoshim, when it says: Vehadarta pnei zaken – you shall find beauty in the face of the elderly.

We have been acquainted with this mitzvah since kindergarten to the point where we have perhaps forgotten the meaning of the words. We are not enjoined ‘to worry about your elders’ or ‘to have mercy upon your elders’ or ‘to give your seat on the bus to your elders.’ You shall find beauty in the faces of your elders. Look at the majestic beauty in those faces. Make sure to honor, elevate and extol the elderly in our society. Give respect to every year they have lived and every wrinkle they display. And yet, must this respect be shown only on these special days, or is it possible for us to expand on it and demonstrate it throughout the year?”.

Rahav-Meir and Naama Lahav:are correct. In fact, the late MK Uri Orbach z”l established that on the Shabbat where this mitzvah is read (Kedoshim) that it be called Shabbat VeHadarta – in honor of senior citizens (and in this ad there are some great suggestions).

Of course, we should honor our beloved senior every day, not just on national memorial days or a special shabbat, like this Shabbat, Shabbat VeHadarta, but it’s a good start.

All this is a prelude to the following wonderful Sukkot story, which I have shared before:

Reb Aryeh Levin, of sacred memory, was renowned as a righteous person (tzaddik) of Jerusalem. He was known for his punctilious observance of each of the ritual commandments and his overwhelming compassion for every human being. Two days before the arrival of the Festival of Sukkot, he went to the Geula district of Jerusalem to choose his Four Species.

Immediately, word spread that the great tzaddik Reb Aryeh was standing in front of a long table in the street selecting his species. A large crowd gathered around him, after all, the etrog (citron) is referred to in the Bible as a “beautiful fruit” (eitz hadar), and since we are enjoined to “beautify the commandments”, observant Jews are especially careful in purchasing a most beautiful and outstanding etrog.

An ultra-Orthodox Jews inspects and etrog before Sukkot

Everyone was interested in observing which criteria the great tzaddik would use in choosing his etrog. To the amazement of the crowd, however, Reb Aryeh looked at one etrog and put it down, picked up a second, examined it, and then went back to the first and purchased it together with his three other species. The entire transaction took less than 5 minutes. The crowd, rather disappointed, rapidly dispersed imagining that the great rabbi had a very pressing appointment.

One person decided to follow Reb Aryeh to see exactly where he was going. What could be more important than choosing an etrog the day before Sukkot? this Jerusalemite thought to himself. Rav Levin walked into an old age home.

The individual following him, waited outside and 90 minutes later the great Sage exited. The Jerusalemite approached him “Revered Rabbi”, he said. “Please don’t think I am impudent, but I am anxious to learn a point of Torah, and therefore, I am asking the question. The great commandment of Sukkot includes the waving of a beautiful etrog. I am certain that visiting the elderly individual or individuals in the Old Age home is also an important mitzvah, but they will be in the Old Age Home during the Festival of Sukkot as well as after it. The purchase of the etrog is a once a year opportunity. I would have expected the revered rabbi to have spent a little more time in choosing the etrog.”

Rav Levin took the questioner’s hand in his and smiled lovingly “My dear friend”, he said. “There are two mitzvoth which the Torah employs the term hidur, (beautification), one is: the mitzvah of a beautiful etrog (pri etz hadar), (Leviticus 23: 40) and the second is “beautifully honoring the face of the aged –” (ve’hadarta pnei zaken) (Leviticus 19:32).

“However, the etrog is an object and the aged individual is a subject, a human being and not a fruit. Hence, I believe one must spend much more time beautifying the commandment relating to the human being than beautifying the commandment relating to a fruit.”

***

Chodesh Tov & Shabbat Shalom.

Acharei Mot: The Ish Iti – and me!

This post is dedicated in memory of my father, Yaacov Zeev Yisrael ben Shmuel.

This week’s Torah portion, Acharei Mot, mainly describes the High Priest’s service on Yom Kippur, but I’d like to focus on one minor character mentioned in Acharei Mot with a very important job.

וְסָמַךְ אַהֲרֹן אֶת-שְׁתֵּי יָדָו, עַל רֹאשׁ הַשָּׂעִיר הַחַי, וְהִתְוַדָּה עָלָיו אֶת-כָּל-עֲו ֹנֹת בְּנֵי יִשְׂרָאֵל, וְאֶת-כָּל פִּשְׁעֵיהֶם לְכָל-חַטֹּאתָם; וְנָתַן אֹתָם עַל-רֹאשׁ הַשָּׂעִיר, וְשִׁלַּח בְּיַד–אִישׁ עִתִּי הַמִּדְבָּרָה

And Aaron shall lay both his hands upon the head of the live goat, and confess over it all the iniquities of the children of Israel, and all their transgressions, even all their sins; and he shall put them upon the head of the goat, and shall send it away by the hand of an appointed man into the wilderness. (Lev 16:21)

Once sins have been transferred to the live goat, a mysterious man known as the אִישׁ עִתִּי Ish Iti (a designated man) was to lead the live goat into the wilderness which, according to the rabbis, was for the goat to be pushed off a cliff to die.

The Ish Iti taking the scapegoat to the wildrerness on Yom Kippur

I will not get into his exact task (which sounds kind of gruesome, honestly). But rather one simple question: Why is he called “ish iti”, the appointed (or “designated” or “timely”) man?

Rashi and others commentators explain that the most straightforward meaning of Ish Iti is the man appointed for this task. Rashi says he is appointed from the day before. He has been chosen and is ready for the task.

Rashbam (Rashi’s grandson) says “Ish iti” means a man who knows the roads and how to navigate in the wilderness (which is important so that he doesn’t get lost as he leads the goat in his charge to the destination).

So now we know three requirements for the “Ish iti”: 1. He is a designated person 2. He is “ready” the day beforehand and 3. He knows where he is going. Now, hold on to that thought for a minute.

What is the lesson of all this?

Since the horrible terror attacks of October 7th, our lives have been turned upside down. But what can we do? How can we help others? What can I do right now?

I believe that like the “Ish iti”, the designated man (or women), we are the person of the moment. In our lives we must all be ready to step up and do what is needed when called on. We must know the roads and the paths ahead. We must prepare ourselves. If we are “ready”  then we’ll be ready to do our job when the time comes, whatever that task may be. BE THE “ISH ITi!“

Shabbat Shalom!

Shabbat Hagadol: What’s so great about it?

This post is dedicated in memory of my father, Yaacov Zev Yisrael ben Shmuel.

I am not going to write about this week’s Torah portion Metzora, but rather about Shabbat Hagadol (The ‘Great’ Shabbat), which is the Shabbat before Pesach (Passover), which is this Shabbat.

When we think of Shabbat Hagadol a few things come to mind:

1. According to tradition, the 10th of Nisan in the year of the exodus was a Saturday (Shabbat). It was considered a great event, in fact a miracle, that the Israelites could on that day select a lamb for sacrifice, as they had been commanded to do, without being attacked by their Egyptian masters – who worshipped the lamb as a diety and at other times, would have surely stoned them for performing such an act .

2. Another possible reason for the name “Shabbat Hagadol” is that the special haftarah which is read from the book of Malachi, speaks of the “great day” (ha’gadol) of God on which the Moshiach will appear.

3. A novel explanation for the name of Shabbat HaGadol is that Jews used to return from the synagogue later than usual on this Sabbath because of the unusually long drasha (sermon) that was customary for the rabbi to deliver on this special Shabbat.

But there is one tradition that we in the Sredni family hold dear and keep religiously every Shabbat Hagadol wherever we may be:

There is minhag (Jewish tradition) to read part of the Passover Haggadah on Shabbat haGadol, beginning from the paragraph that begins with the words “Avadim hayinu” (“We were slaves”) until the words, “lechaper al kol avonotaynu” (“to atone for all of our sins”). One reason for this is that the redemption began on Shabbat Hagadol. Another reason is to familiarize the children with the contents of the Haggadah in fulfillment of the mitzvah of “You shall tell your children on that day”. Yet another reason is that the reading from the Haggadah on Shabbat haGadol is like a rehersal for the Seder night, and helps us to become more familiar with the text.

So, in our family on Shabbat day (afternoon) of Shabbat Hagadol we sit around together as a family and for 7-8 minutes we read the prescribed text. When we finish someone always remarks “if only it would be that quick on Seder night” and we all laugh.

This was the Haggadah we used in the South Peninsula Hebrew Day School (SPHDS) model seders when I was a kid growing up in northern California

But maybe that’s the point. We read the Haggadah on Shabbat Hagadol to familiarize ourselves with the text, so that on some level we prepare ourselves for the seder and not just come to it ‘dry’.

Think about it. I have often heard that it is ‘advisable’ to look over the Rosh Hashana and Yom Kippur machzor before those holidays to familiarize outselves with the prayers, but honestly aside from Chazzanim (cantors) I don’t know of anyone who really does it. Do people, other than those who are reading the Megillah publicly and need to practice, open up a Megillat Esther before Purim? Probably not.

So, what’s the deal here? I think the message is that we need to “be prepared” (which is the motto of the “scouts” and also a song sung by the evil lion Scar in The Lion King).

There is no holiday on the Jewish calendar for which we prepare ourselves more physically than Pesach (cleaning, cooking, hosting guests, you name it), so is it too much to ask to take a few minutes on a long Shabbat Hagadol afternoon to read over the main story part of the Hagaddah to in the very least help “get us in the mood”?

I try to wrap my head around why for our family this tradition “stuck” – it sort of feels like my family is “conditioned by tradition”- and I think it is because our parents really believed and taught us Sredni kids the importance to ‘be prepared’ in life and that success comes when you prepare in advance.

And perhaps that’s the biggest message of Shabbat Hagadol, the Shabbat when we take a break from the physical preperations for Pesach and dust off and open our Haggadot and read the passages together as we prepare for the upcoming Passover seder both spirtually and mentally.

I found a very nice quote online from former racecar driver Bobby Unser, “Success is where preperation and opportunity meet.”

It is clear to me that in this case “preparation” means reading over the Haggadah before Pesach and Shabbat Hagadol afternoon is the “opportunity” we get and together they lead to success on Seder night.

I want to add one more thought on why this Shabbat is called Shabbat Hagadol and it’s from UK Chiief Rabbi Ephraim Mirvis.

Will this Shabbat be the greatest of them all? D’var Torah for Shabbat HaGadol. pic.twitter.com/l1A7a4vs3d

— Chief Rabbi Sir Ephraim Mirvis (@chiefrabbi) April 17, 2024

Shabbat Hagadol Shalom and Chag Sameach!

Tazria: Look Again

This post is dedicated in memory of my father,Yaacov Zev Yisrael ben Shmuel.

“How was your doctor’s appointment this week?” I once asked my mother.

“Fine.”

“Just fine? Did the doctor examine you?”

“No,” she said, “the doctor hardly looked up from her computer at me, she just typed everything I told her about my symptoms and then prescribed some antibiotics.”

Sadly, this happens on occasion. I guess it’s happened to me too. Doctors and nurses are busy, but 99% of the time the medical staff I have dealt with in Israel have been great. Giving me their full attention and yes, looking up from their computer at me.

Apparently this is indeed an issue arpind the world and there are several articles I found online with titles such as: “Does your doctor look at the computer instead of you? and Is Your Doctor Getting Too Much Screen Time?

PHOTO: MICHAEL MARSICANO FOR THE WALL STREET JOURNAL

Tzara’at, the main subject of this week’s portion Tazria (and also next week’s portion Metzora) is an affliction that discolors human skin, clothing, hair, beards and even homes. The laws of tzara’at are detailed, complex and intricate. There are Talmudic tractates that deal with the proper procedure for purification and a litany of laws that must be followed flawlessly. The ramifications of tzara’at have more than physiological implications, they have a great theological impact as well.

In an essay on this week’s portion entitled, Holistic Healing, Rabbi Mordechai Kamenetzky writes:

The discoloration of skin does not necessarily reflect a chemical impropriety or a nutritional deficiency. It is a heavenly sign of a spiritual flaw, primarily related to a deficient speech pattern. It is a disease that afflicts a gossip. The one in question must go to the kohen (priest) who instructs him in the proper procedure to rid himself of both the blemish and the improper behavior that caused its appearance. The Torah tells us that the fate of the stricken man is totally dependent upon the will of the kohen. The kohen is shown the negah (blemish) and has the power to declare it tamei (impure) or tahor (pure). In fact, even if all signs point to the declaration of impurity, if the kohen, for any reason, deems the person tahor or refuses to declare him tamei, the man remains tahor. He is not tamei until openly and clearly labeled as such by the kohen.

Yet the verse seems a bit redundant. “And the kohen shall look at the negah affliction on the skin and behold it has changed to white and appears deeper than the skin of the flesh – it is a tzara’at and the kohen shall look at him and declare him tamei” (Leviticus 13:3). Why must the kohen look twice? The Torah should tell us that the kohen shall look at the negah, and if the affliction is white and appears deeper than the flesh of the skin, then the kohen shall declare him impure. What purpose is served by looking again?

Rabbi Kamenetzky explains that the kohen who is instructed to deal with the stricken individual should not only look at the negah. He must look again. He must look at the man. Rabbi Meir Simcha HaKohen of D’vinsk explains that even if the negah has all the attributes that should lead to a declaration of tumah, there are other factors that must be weighed. If the man is a groom, about to wed, impurity must not be declared. It will ruin the upcoming festivities. If there are other mitigating circumstances, then a declaration of contagion must be postponed.

Perhaps the Torah is telling us more. It is easy to look at a flaw and declare it as such. But one must look at the whole person. He must ask himself “how is my declaration going to affect the future of this person.” He must consider the circumstances that caused the negah. He must look again – once at the negah – and once at the man.

There are those who interpret the adage in Pirkei Avot (Ethics of the Fathers), “judge all (of the) people in a good way,” as do not look at a partial person: rather, judge all of the person — even a flaw may have a motivation or rationale behind it. The kohen may look at the negah, but before he pronounces tamei he must look again. He must look beyond the blemish. He must look at the man.

I (Yonatan) have a treatment at Sheba Medical Center once every three weeks (for a year, and more than half a year has passed). The Keytruda treatment is given via a 30 minute injection as a preventative measure. I usually feel fine afterwards and go back to working from home after the treatment. 

One lesson I have learned is that the nurses in the Oncology unit there treat many patients at once.I always try to get a chair where the nurse treating me can see me because even though the machine beeps when done, I want her to be able to see me from her station so I don’t need to flag her down (or ask someone else to flag her down) to unhook me when it’s finished. I guess I want to be ‘seen’ too.

These days we don’t seem to ‘see’ one another very much. We are too busy to look up from our phones. I guess the Torah portion of Tazria teaches us to look up  – and more importantly to look again – and see the whole person.

Shabbat Shalom

Shmini: Birds of a feather?

 This post is dedicated in memory of my father, Yaacov Zev Yisrael ben Shmuel.

In an article on Aish.com Rabbi Abba Wagensberg writes:

This week’s Torah portion Shmini contains the dramatic story of Nadav and Avihu, two of Aaron the high priest’s sons, who bring a strange offering to God. This is so unacceptable that a fire consumes them on the spot and they die. The Midrash (Yalkut Shimoni 524) suggests seven reasons why Aaron’s sons might have deserved death:

1. Nadav and Avihu were impatient for Moses and Aaron to die so that they could take over leadership of the Jewish people.
   
2. They made Jewish legal decisions in front of Moses, their rabbi, a sign of disrespect.
   
3. They entered the holy area while intoxicated.
   
4. They entered the holy area without first washing their hands and feet.
   
5. They entered the holy area without wearing the priestly garments
   
6. They did not get married.
   
7. They did not try to have children.

While Rabbi Wagensberg ties the 7 reasons together and draws a conclusion, I’d like to draw one of my own, but from a lesson from a later part of Shmini.Towards the end of the portion we read about the laws of kashrut (which animals are kosher to eat and which not).

Regarding which birds the Torah permits us to eat, the Ramban points out that the disqualifying characteristic of fowl is the attribute of cruelty. Among the fowl that are listed as being unkosher is the chasidah, the white stork. What cruel character trait does the stork possess?

Rashi mentions that the reason it is called a chasidah is because it does chesed (kindness) with its friends (other storks) regarding the food it finds. Apparently, what Rashi intended as an explanation to disqualify seems at first glance to be a praiseworthy virtue of the stork. If it is the character of the stork to act kindly with its food (sharing its food), why is it then disqualified as being kosher?

A possible answer to this difficulty is given by the Chidushei Ha’rim, a Chassidic 19th century Talmudic scholar, in which he explains the nature of the stork. He says that the fact that the stork only shows its kindness with its friends defines its cruelty. A fowl who is not in the circle of the stork’s good buddies cannot expect to get any help from him in finding food. It is this character trait of differentiating between close friends and others when it comes to providing food that makes the stork non-kosher.

It reminds me of the famous idiom, “Birds of a feather, flock together.” which means that beings (typically humans) of similar type, interest, personality, character, or other distinctive attribute tend to mutually associate. So, I guess the stork (chasidah) fits that perfectly, it does kindness with birds of its kind.

The valuable lesson of the stork is one which all of us can take to heart. To do kindness for one’s friends is nice, but it is a kindness which one is expected to do and will surely be reciprocated. But a true act of kindness is one done for a stranger, someone who is beyond our circle of friends, someone who will surely not expect and might not even reciprocate the kindness. It is the attribute of unsolicited kindness which will unify the Jewish people and propel us towards the day of our ultimate redemption.

I admit, sometimes I can be stork-like myself. Do I really go out of my way to do kindness for those outside my circle, for those not similar to me? 

Now let’s go back to Nadav & Avihu. I cannot say for sure what their deadly sin was, but I have a guess, they acted like the stork, they were friendly and caring ONLY TO EACHOTHER! 

They did not regard (respect) their father Aaron nor their uncle Moshe ((and I also suspect not their mother, their other brothers, Elazar and Itamar, who took their places when they were killed) and other members of the Children of Israel (some say they did not get married because they believed they were “too good” for all the ‘common’ folks). And they didn’t respect God either, for they brought a strange fire they were not commanded to bring.

In short, I believe they acted like two storks who looked out for one another, but for nobody else. And that’s no good. You can’t be a good religious leader (or any type of leader) if you are only looking out for yourself (and your one brother who is of the same mind).

On the opposite side of the spectrum, my late father Yaacov Sredni was a person who greeted everyone with a smile. He exemplified the famous saying in Ethics of the Fathers (Pirkei Avot 1:15): Hevei mekabel kol adam besever panim yafot  – one should greet every person with graciousness – with a warm and welcoming face, with a smile.

My father taught me by personal example to show kindness to EVERYONE and that’s how you build long lasting friendships. It does not matter if it’s the CEO of the company or the woman cleaning the rooms at a hotel, everyone deserves respect. And it’s so true. I look around and see my parents’ vast number of friends from all parts of the world and all walks of life, of all races and religious beliefs and it’s a testament to how they lived their lives and how they treated everyone they came into contact with.

Friendship is not the prerequisite for kindness. Do kindness for everyone and the friendships will follow.

Shabbat Shalom – and Chodesh Tov!

Tzav: Trash Talk

This post is dedicated in memory of my father, Yaacov Zev Yisrael ben Shmuel & my brother in law Shimon ben Tzvi Dov Ha’cohen, whose 5th yahrzeit is the 23rd of Adar Bet.

The first thing I do when I arrive at my mother’s home for any weekend (Shabbat) is also the last thing I do before I leave – take out the trash. 

When I arrive she always has a bag full of newspapers and a bag of other recycling items waiting for me by the front door and I (begrudgingly) walk down the street and dump them in their respective receptacles. The same scenario repeats itself before I can leave at the end of the weekend.

Nobody likes this chore, especially kids.

But everything changed during the height of the coronavirus pandemic in 2020, when people were ordered to stay at home. Suddenly kids started begging their parents, “Can I please take out the garbage?”  Several people told me that going outside to take out the trash and the recycling during the multiple forced lockdowns was the most exciting part of their day.

In this week’s Torah portion, Tzav, we read about the work of cohanim (priests) in the sanctuary (mishkan).  Interestingly, the first act the priests did at the start of their day in the Temple was to dispose of yesterday’s garbage by literally shoveling all the
ash from the previous day off the altar, and placing it outside of the Sanctuary (Leviticus 6:3). In fact, this was such a popular mitzvah (commandment) that they actually fought with each other for the privilege. (You never thought you’d see kids fighting over who gets to take out the trash, but maybe it did happen, at least during the pandemic).

It would seem this tedious task was below such venerable individuals, and that someone else should be dispatched to carry it out. Why is it necessary for the person who spends his day immersed in lofty and holy endeavors to carry out this mundane chore?

Perhaps the Torah is teaching that even the most menial of tasks, such as ‘taking out the
trash’, can be imbued with implicit holiness. By beginning the day with such a menial task, the priest is forced, on a daily basis, to absorb tremendous humility in view of his own position relative to God.

It was not beneath the cohen to take the garbage out – it was an honor!

However, once the coronavirus period passed and we were free to move about outside our homes, taking out the trash was not nearly as exciting. It became a chore once again.  

Perhaps it all depends on our perspective, what one person sees as a chore, another can view as a vital duty.

The question is, how can I, Yonatan, change my perspective? 

I Googled “Taking out the Trash” and found this unique perspective by someone named Mark Hinshaw entitled “What I’ve Learned Taking Out the Garbage“. He writes:

“Most of my life I have viewed the act of taking out the trash as a necessary but thankless chore. It needs to be done; and someone has to do it. Even when cities started mandating separation of household waste into different cans as an environmental cause, it was hard to be enthusiastic about the task.”

Among the various benefits, he lists:

“There is a good chance that you will meet a neighbor on their way to the collection point and have a pleasant conversation. I almost always run across the elderly widow who lives at the end of the street.”

True, sometimes I meet someone in passing as I dump (or return from) the recycling, but it is usually just a wave hello. At least, for me. I am not one to stop and chat.

But this makes me think of my beloved brother in law Shimon, whose 5th yahrzeit we will mark this coming week. He was known for always smiling and always stopping to talk to people on the street (he seemed to know everyone). I cannot recall a single instance of going or returning somewhere with him where he did not stop to chat with an acquaintance he ran into (in the street, at a store, anywhere) – always with a smile.

The connection with this week’s Torah portion is direct, Shimon was a cohen, but never had a problem with getting his hands dirty to do his work – or help others – and always with a big smile.

So, perhaps I need to work on my people skills, at least when taking out the trash – and turn my frown upside down.

Shabbat Shalom.

Vayikra/Zachor: Wait for it … let it go.

This post is in memory of my father Yaacov Zev Yisrael ben Shmuel.

I feel very fortunate to have the job I have as a journalist at CTech by Calcalist. The people are great, the subject matter is important, I work mostly from home, overall I can’t complain.

Well, maybe I can complain a little bit.

I do wish I’d get more opportunities to do interviews and participate in conferences both in Israel and abroad as my teammates do. I realize and accept that there is a hierarchy (and I am not at the top, at least right now) for those choice assignments. So, how does one cope when your coworkers are at a conference in Tokyo, New York, London, or even locally in Tel Aviv, and you are assigned to hold down the fort at home base. How do I not let feelings of envy seep in?

This Shabbat we begin reading the book of Vayikra with the Torah portion of Vayikra, but we also have an additional reading as it is the Shabbat before Purim, we also read the portion of Zachor, in which we fulfill the Torah command to remember what Amalek did to the Israelites (attacked them from behind right after they left Egypt – and then centuries later we recall how Haman, who was also from Amalek, tried to kill all the Jews in the Purim story).

I’d like to share two short drashot (Torah lessons) from Israeli journalist Sivan Rahav Meir, one on Vayikra and one on Shabbat Zachor.

She writes:

The opening words of the book of Vayikra are:

“And the LORD called unto Moses, and spoke unto him out of the tent of meeting, saying…“(Lev: 1:1)

Note that Moses does not go into the Tent of Meeting with self confidence. Rather, he waits to be called.

Here is the description that appears in the Midrash (rabbinic commentary): 

“Go and learn from Moses, the father of wisdom, the father of the prophets, who took Israel out of Egypt and performed miracles; Moses who went up to the heavens and brought down the Torah and occupied himself with building the Mishkan (sanctuary) – despite all of this, he did not go inside (the tent) until he was called, as it says: ‘And He called unto Moses’.”

Before this important book starts teaching us other things, we first learn in it about Derech Eretz (ethical, responsible way to live): Even if you are Moshe Rabbenu, stay humble. Do not rush into the Tent of Meeting.

This is a very nice lesson. Sometimes you need to patient, you must wait to be called.

Think about the Purim story. Mordechai urges Esther to go plead for the life of all the Jews before the king, but she explains she cannot,

“All the king’s officials and even the people in the provinces know that anyone who appears before the king in his inner court without being invited is doomed to die unless the king holds out his gold scepter. And the king has not called for me to come to him for thirty days.” (Esther 4:11)

When Esther’s words were reported to Mordecai, he sent back this answer: “Do not think that because you are in the king’s house you alone of all the Jews will escape. For if you remain silent at this time, relief and deliverance for the Jews will arise from another place, but you and your father’s family will perish. And who knows but that you have come to your royal position for such a time as this?” (Esther 4:12-14)

And then this is the real turning point of the Purim story. Esther replies to Mordechai:

“Go, gather together all the Jews who are in Susa, and fast for me. Do not eat or drink for three days, night or day. I and my attendants will fast as you do. When this is done, I will go to the king, even though it is against the law. And if I perish, I perish.” (Esther 4:15-16)

And the rest (how the Jews are saved through Queen Esther’s efforts) is history.

Both Moshe and Esther had to wait to be called (by God and by the king respectively), but I believe what we can learn from this is that the both ACTIVELY waited for the call. They didn’t just wait around to be summoned (though they had to be patient), they were READY and so when they did get the call they were fully prepared to act.

***

The second drasha (Torah lesson) from Sivan Rahav Meir is about Zachor.

She writes:

He is on the top of the world, in a senior position, and yet, he is not satisfied.

Haman HaRasha (Evil Haman) is an Amalekite, that is, he comes from the nation that on this Shabbat, Shabbat Zachor, we will read in the Torah how we must obliterate and delete them from our memory.

What is “Amalekism”? One of its characteristics is manifest in the image of Haman. At the beginning of the Book of Esther: He is the second in rank to the king, a very important, influential person; he has a family that is blessed with many children, and still he says: “Yet all this is worth nothing to me, as long as I see Mordechai the Jew sitting at the king’s gate”.

That is, he has oceans of honor, but he is lacking just one drop; everyone bows down to him, but he needs Mordechai to bow down to him too, otherwise – it is all worth nothing to him.

When we talk about the war against Amalek, we also talk about a fight against this character trait, a fight against the tendency not to see the (more than) full half glass, but rather to see the drop that is missing; a fight against the ego and the pursuit of honor without being able to be thankful for what is and to rejoice in it. This is a special Amalekite talent, to instill in a person so much doubt and so much sadness. When we make noise with the Ra’ashanim (noise makers/graggers) when we hear the name “Haman” read from the Megillah, the intention is also to obliterate this worldview.

***

Perhaps I can learn from both the above drashot:

1. Be patient – and wait to be called on (as Barney on How I Met Your Mother would say, “Wait for it….”), yet be ready to answer the call. My time will surely come at work to participate in such interviews and conferences, I just need to remain a team player and be actively ready when my time comes.

2. “Let it go” in our relationships with others. Don’t be envious of others, let it go (and when it comes to coworkers who get opportunities, be supportive, your turn will come). Haman never learned to ‘let it go’ when it came to Mordechai and it did not end well for him.

Shabbat Shalom and Happy Purim!

Pekudei: Puttin’ on the Ritz

This post is dedicated in memory of my father, Yaacov Zev Yisrael ben Shmuel.

So, a quick recap. Early last summer I was diagnosed with a very large mass (which was later confirmed to be cancerous) around my right kidney. The mass, along with the kidney, was surgically removed and I have recovered (my once every three week treatment is purely preventative) and thank God I feel just fine.

When I was recovering at home over the summer I looked on the internet to see if any organizations provide benefits for oncology patients (which I officially became after the surgery) and I happened upon Refanah Healing Holidays ( https://www.refanah.org/home). According to their website, “Refanah provides a few days respite for oncology patients and their family, giving them a gift of time away together to rest, enjoy and rejuvenate in donated holiday accommodations throughout Israel.”

This sounded good to me and in short order I registered (provided the required doctor’s note that I am indeed an oncology patient) and waited to see when I’d be able to go on a free holiday.

Then October 7th happened and nobody in Israel could even think about taking a holiday. In fact, the events of October 7th and the ensuing war so overshadowed everything that I really don’t think about my medical ordeal just a few months ago.

Not too long ago I got an email from Refanah enabling me (and all those who had registered) to sign up to “win” a free one-night stay (with breakfast) at the Ritz Carlton Hotel in Herzliya (a room generously donated to the organization by an anonymous donor). I entered my preferred date from the options offered (there was to be one winner for every date offered) and waited. 

Then a week ago Sunday I was informed that I ‘won’ the date I chose (this past Tuesday-Wednesday). I told my mother I would like her to be my ‘plus one’ and we enjoyed a wonderful stay in the hotel (room was amazing, service was amazing “Yes, Mr.Sredni” they would answer when I called the front desk from the room, breakfast was great, the view was breathtaking – and the weather was perfect too – all just what the doctor ordered.

But, as lovely as it was, I wondered if it really is ‘healing’. After all, the organization that made it possible calls themselves “Refana Healing Holidays. Relaxing? Yes. Luxurious? Absolutely! But “healing”? I was not so sure.

Then I came upon something Israeli journalist Sivan Rahav Meir wrote a few years ago connected to this week’s Torah portion of Pekudei, which concludes the book of Shemot:

She writes:

There are times when everything seems stuck. We live in a world of achievement, competition, and speed whose pace, at times, is too fast for us. Sometimes we stop by the side of the road.

This week we read the Torah portion of Pekudei, the last portion in the book of Exodus. Commenting on the final passage of the parsha, in summarizing the travels of the people, Rashi writes: “The place of their encampment is also called a journey.”

There is a powerful message here: The time the children of Israel spend moving forward is called a journey, but the time spent camping in a way station, when God tells them to just wait in place, is part of the journey, too, since stopping is an opportunity to learn, grow, and advance. Our commentators explain that it is precisely through each encampment that the people gain the strength needed for the next leg of their journey.

If we find ourselves in a “way station” while it seems that everyone else is already married or having kids or working or achieving, we do not have to relate to such a period as a waste of time, as if nothing is happening. It is just another chapter of life, another opportunity for growth and development, even while this chapter is taking place internally and hidden from view. It is worthwhile to remind ourselves at such times that “the place of their encampment is also called a journey.”

Sivan Rahav Meir makes an excellent point and that’s when it hit me. I, and other oncology patients, are on a journey towards health and healing. It’s a rough journey, with many ups and downs, and yes, setbacks too – but we shouldn’t get depressed or discouraged, rather we should acknowledge that and use whatever time we can to “pause” for our own growth and spiritual healing. On Wednesday, I sat and relaxed on the deck of the Ritz Carlton Herzliya overlooking the marina and the sea. On Thursday morning I was back at Sheba Medical Center getting my regular once a month medical preventative treatment. The later was for my body, but the prior was for my soul, and no less important.

In Hebrew the organization is called רפא נא נופש מרפא, Refanah Healing Holidays, but the Hebrew word for ‘holiday’, nofesh, really is related to word ‘nefesh’, soul. So, Refanah is really providing healing holidays for the soul. The place of encampment, where you rest – and get pampered – is also part of the journey.

Here is the short poem I posted on Facebook about my expreience.

As a new patient

of oncology,

I found of an organization

that helps people like me.

Because sometimes you wish

you could just get away,

take a mental break,

a short holiday.

So thanks to רפא נא נופש מרפא Refanah

and their generous anonymous host,

my mother and I got the respite

that we needed most.

Thank you all so much

and to the The Ritz-Carlton, Herzliya

Wishing everyone good health,

Shana betucha u’vriah!

Shabbat Shalom!

Vayakhel – There’s no “I” in “Team”

This post is dedicated in memory of my father Yaacov Zev Yisrael ben Shmuel.

This was a very intensive week for the members of the CTech by Calcalist team. Calcalist held its annual Mind the Tech New York conference on Monday. Many important people from Israeli and American high-tech participated (even the mayor of New York came and gave a speech, as did Moshe Lion, the mayor of Jerusalem).

No, I didn’t go to New York, 3 members of the CTech team did, along with many from Calcalist. I was part of the team that stayed in Israel and ‘held down the fort’, which involved frantically uploading to the CTech website all the reports coming in from the team members at the conferences (translating, picking out quotes from videos, finding photos, creating headlines and more).

The conference was a success (well,, some anti-Israel protestors did manage to get into the conference and disrupt one of the sessions, but security quickly escorted them out). Yes, sometimes I wished I had been asked to go, but it was not meant to be. Maybe next year.

Flipping through this week’s Torah portionof of Vayakhel, I noticed that Rashi’s commentary on the portion is less than usual, Entire pages of the portion go without his commentary. The obvious reason is that many verses deal with minute details of the Mishkan (sanctuary) and I guess there is not much to comment on in those passages.

One verse (pasuk) that Rashi does comment on involves the two main people involved in the project.

And Moshe said to the Israelites: See, God has singled out by name Bezalel, son of Uri son of Hur, of the tribe of Judah, endowing him with a divine spirit of skill, ability, and knowledge in every kind of craft, and inspiring him to make designs for work in gold, silver, and copper, — and to give directions. He and Oholiav son of Ahisamach of the tribe of Dan..(Exodus:35:30-34)

Rashi comments: “and Ohaliav…” — he was of the tribe of Dan, of one of the lowest of the tribes, of the sons of the handmaids, and yet God placed him with regard to the work of the Tabernacle on a level with Bezalel although Bezalel was a member of one of the noble tribes (Judah) in order to confirm what Scripture says, (Job 34:19) “He regardeth not the rich more than the poor” (Midrash Tanchuma 2:10:13).

What is Rashi getting at here? Well, Bezalel was from a distiguished tribe, Yehuda, and from a distinguished family, his grandfather Hur was the son of Miriam, so Bezalel was the great-grandson of Miriam and the great-great nephew of Moshe (and Aharon too). Obviously Bezalel had great talents, which is why God selected him to be chief artisan of the Mishkan, but he also had great ‘yichus‘ – a Hebrew-based Yiddish word meaning “lineage”.

His partner, whom God also chose, Oholiav, had all the talent, but none of the ‘yichus’. He came from the tribe of Dan, as Rashi puts it “one of the lowest of the tribes, of the sons of the handmaids”. Yet. he was still “teamed up” with Bezalel.

The website Chabad.org talks about this “unique” pair:

Betzalel, as we said above, descended from an aristocratic family; Oholiav, by contrast, was from the tribe of Dan—a less prestigious tribe, since they descended from Jacob’s handmaiden Bilhah. The Torah mentions Betzalel and Oholiav together, to demonstrate that to G‑d, both were on an equal level.

Chabad.org continues: “The Zohar explains that Betzalel represents the Kabbalistic “right side” (kindness, benevolence), while Oholiav represents the “left side” (severity, strictness). They were able, then, to act in concert to build not just the Mishkan’s physical structure, but also its spiritual plane.

Chabad.org brings that there is an interesting connection between our daily prayers and the construction of the Mishkan. The Jerusalem Talmud states that the number of blessings in the Amidah prayer, 18 (shmone esreh) corresponds to the number of times in the Torah portions of Vayak’hel & Pekudei that G‑d’s commandment (tzivah) is mentioned. But a careful count yields 19 such words! However, the Talmud states that the first one does not count because it is mentioned before Oholiav’s name is introduced.

Without Oholiav, there is no mitzvah.

The Lubavitcher Rebbe draws a powerful lesson from this: Before a person is ready to pray, he or she must reach a state where he feels a connection to every Jew, even the “least of the tribes.” Only when Betzalel and Oholiav work in unity can we forge a connection with G‑d.

Now. back to to my opening and the Mind the Tech Conference in New York. People often throw around sayings like “Teamwork makes the dream work” or “there is no “I” in ‘team‘”.

I think my takeaway from the Bezalel-Oholiav partnership is that everyone on the team has their own skills and talents. It doesn’t matter where you came from – or if you go to New York or stay in Israel and support the team from behind the scenes – we are all important parts of the team – so, be a ‘team player’ and embrace your role.