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It’s time for the annual Passover chametz purge. For some Jews, not eating chametz is not enough. They follow the biblical directive to rid the house of it. Exodus 12:15 states, “On the first day, you shall put leaven out of your houses,” and “seven days shall there be no leaven found in your houses” is written in Exodus 12:19.
What’s to be done with all that chametz? There are several choices. It can donated, burned or sold.
Donating can be done through the Mitzvah Food Project’s annual chametz drive. For the past 10 years, approximately 40 congregations have participated in the chametz-athon. The foodstuffs may not be wanted by observant Jews, but they are needed by others. Drisana Davis, Mitzvah Food Project manager, says this year’s need is greater than others.
“With the current economic downturn and rising food and living costs, this is a critical time for our vulnerable seniors, children and families,” Davis says. “The Mitzvah Food Project is experiencing several increases in need and a growing demand for funding to continue to feed its participants. The number of client households served over the most recent program year [Sept. 1, 2009 to Aug. 31, 2010] increased by 11 percent. In the first three months of our current program year, the Food Project experienced a 24 percent increase in the number of households served as compared to the first quarter of last year.”
Jacques Lurie, director of Congregations of Shaare Shamayim in Northeast Philadelphia, sees that suffering in his own synagogue. “Because of the economy, there is increased need among members of our congregation,” Lurie says. “We also have a lot of senior citizens who rely on the Mitzvah Food Project. When it comes to Passover, many Jews choose to rid their homes of chametz. That’s a choice they can afford to make. Other people don’t have that option.”
Shaare Shamayim congregants who can donate chametz, do so, and have done so for many years. Lurie says that, in addition to chametz, his congregants donate matzah that they receive as bonuses from some supermarkets. This year, the Mitzvah Food Project is also accepting donations of $10 gift cards from area supermarkets.
” ‘Let all who are hungry, come and eat’ is part of the seder, and this is one way of doing just that,” says Elena Shaw, program director of the Germantown Jewish Centre, a participant in the Mitzvah Food Project’s chametz drive.
Shaw says that the chametz drive can also be a great lesson for children. The mother of an infant and a 3-year-old, Shaw is conscious of setting an example for her children. “I explain that we are donating our chametz because, although we don’t eat it during Passover, there are lots of families who do. We’re doing the mitzvah of making sure that other people in our community have food to eat.”
Not everyone can afford to dispose of their chametz. In those cases, chametz can be “sold” to non-Jews. The chametz remains in the house, in a designated area. That area is then sold, for a nominal fee and via legal contract, to a non-Jew who owns the space and the chametz for the duration of Passover. The transaction transfers legal ownership of the chametz from Jew to non-Jew, and completes the biblical directive. Rabbis act as agents between a trusted non- Jew and congregants and the transactions are usually done via email.
While adhering to biblical law is important, rabbis say that ridding the house of chametz shouldn’t overshadow the reason for it. “It shouldn’t be, ‘Let’s make sure every speck of chametz is out of the house.’ People shouldn’t get obsessive about it,” says Rabbi Eliezer Hirsch of Mekor Habracha in Center City “Nor is it something that should be done with triviality It should be done with intent, and an acknowledgement and understanding of the reason why we are commanded to remove chametz from our lives for seven days.”
What is the reason? What is the meaning of chametz? There are many.
“First, it is our way of re-enacting the story of Exodus,” says Rabbi Kevin Carr of Congregation Or Ami in Lafayette Hill. “However, it’s not just the exodus of the Israelites that we should remember. We are meant to appreciate their situation before the exodus, while they were slaves. Matzah is not called ‘the bread of liberation.’ It’s called ‘the bread of affliction.’ We eat matzah – and not chametz – to remind ourselves of that affliction and its slavery, hunger and oppression. For seven days, we are all slaves like our ancestors were.”
That the Israelites had to flee quickly should also be remembered, says Hirsch. “The bread didn’t have time to rise because the Jews didn’t have the freedom to say when they would leave,” he says. “Now, we don’t have to flee our homes. And, we can practice our religion openly. We have the freedom to relish life, experience it, embrace it and know that every day is worth living to the fullest. That is no small thing.”
There are other interpretations of freedom and chametz. “The making of chametz involves the rising of dough and the use of sour yeast,” says Rabbi Mike Uram of Penn Hillel at the University of Pennsylvania. “One idea is that the process of cleansing our homes of chametz is an attempt to accomplish that cleansing internally and rid ourselves of anything that is inflated or sour. Ego, bad feelings about people, greed – it can include many things. It’s like: Clean your kitchen, clean your soul.
“As we gain freedom from chametz, we gain emotional and spiritual freedom from things that we are enslaved to today,” Uram says. “That includes something like technology or, especially on a college campus, success, grades, body image, popularity So, removing chametz from our homes can be an experiential tool of identifying those things – and ridding ourselves of them.”
“I talk about it as a spiritual version of looking at that which puffs us up,” Carr says. “I talk about ‘spiritual chametz’ as pride and arrogance, and our need to remove them and recapture our modesty, humility and perspective.”
There’s even a rabbinical interpretation of the physical act of cleaning chametz from the house. “Passover represents a holiday in which the Jews were very physical,” Hirsch says. “Exodus is about action. The work of slavery running out of Egypt, wandering in the desert. It’s the most physical of all holidays. And, cleaning the home is very physical. It might be where spring cleaning comes from.
“But, action without spiritual or meditative quality is almost pointless,” Hirsch says. “Don’t get so OCD about chametz that you forget the ‘why’ of why we do this. Be present in the moment. Think about it. Experience it. Allow yourself to be affected spiritually. That is the ultimate freedom.”

I appreciate Rabbi Seymour Prystowsky’s position regarding a rational approach to Torah study (Letters: “Rationality Should Guide Us When Teaching Torah,” Feb. 23). However, his implication that it is irrational to believe that Torah was communicated directly from God flies in the face of a plethora of evidence and thousands of years of “the best of Jewish scholarship.”

I find it ironic that he brings proof to his position from Maimonides, who considered the divinity of Torah to be one of Judaism’s fundamental principles and who brought rational evidence to support this position.

Furthermore, without belief in the divine nature of Torah, morality becomes subjective, Judaism devoid of real meaning, and as research shows, Jews increasingly disengage from their tradition.
Rabbi Eliezer Hirsch
Mekor Habracha/Center City Synagogue

Published Thursday, January 26, 2012, 5:55 AM

Israel-rooted Moshav will headline a concert tomorrow night whose proceeds will benefit Center City’s Congregation Mekor Habracha (Center City Shul). The 9 PM concert (doors open at 8:30 PM) will be held at the club Union Transfer, located at 1024 Spring Garden Street in the general Center City/Chinatown area.

Members of Moshav (formerly now as “Moshav Band”) are openly proud of their Jewish faith and heritage. Its members grew up on Moshav Mevo Modiim, a musical village located in the hills between Jerusalem and Tel Aviv. Their hometown, founded by the late Rabbi Shlomo Carlebach, was and continues to be the birthplace of many Jewish songs enjoyed the world over. The members of the Moshav Band were under the spiritual guidance of Rabbi Carlebach while immersed in his musical world, often performing with him at his concerts.

General admission tickets to the concert are $25.00 each. VIP tickets (which include the use of tables and chairs) are $54.00 each. Tickets can be purchased via this link. Tickets also can be purchased at the door.

It is no longer much of a secret in the Center City Philadelphia Jewish community that Congregation Mekor Habracha (located 20th and Chestnut Streets) is the “hot” synagogue in town, particularly for young adults. Just several years old, Mekor Habracha gets over 100 congregants most Saturday mornings for shabbas services. A large proportion of those congregants not only fit in the general category of the sadly played-out and somewhat euphemistic marketing term “young professionals” … but actually are both “young” and “professionals.”

As of just last week, there is now a daily morning minyan (at which Philadelphia Jewish Culture Examiner, while not necessarily an “altacocker” at 40 years old, is almost always one of the more senior participants).

Additionally, it is not far-fetched whatsoever to say that the growth of the Mekor Habracha community and the efforts of the synagogue’s spiritual leader, Rabbi Eliezer Hirsch, are directly responsible for the dramatic recent growth of kosher eating establishments in Center City Philadelphia.

Congregation Mekor Habracha has a definite personal connection to Moshav. Dr. Bruce Taubman, the president of the congregation, is the father-in-law of Moshav’s lead singer, Yehuda Solomon.

Moshav will be preceded by opening act Moments of Wrong, otherwise known as the Congregation Mekor Habracha “House Band.” For the sake of potential audience members who are weighing whether to go hear Moments of Wrong’s opening performance versus the simultaneous performance of cellist Yo-Yo Ma at the Philadelphia Orchestra’s Anniversary Concert, Moments of Wrong members are quick to emphasize that they are amateurs whose livings are made via non-musical jobs.

In any case, Moments of Wrong mandolinst Jon Gradman (a cider brewer by trade) says: “It’s great to be able to do this event with Moshav. They have a lot of musical experience and being able to open for them is really a great honor for us.”

More generally, he adds: “I’m glad we could help out the fundraising for the shul. It’s great to be able to do what you love and help out at the same time.”

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A Tribute: Rebbetzin Chana Weinberg a”h
Wednesday January 25, 2012
By Margie Pensak

As the Rosh Hayeshiva of Yeshivas Ner Yisroel, HaRav Aharon Feldman, shlita, remarked at the levaya of Rebbetzin Chana Weinberg’s, a”h, she was an eisha gedola in the full sense of the word. She grew up in a home of royalty and majesty, and watched her father, the founder and first Rosh Hayeshiva of Yeshivas Ner Yisroel, HaRav Yaakov Yitchok Ruderman, z”l, constantly occupied in Torah. The Rebbetzin saw the chashivus (importance) for Torah while growing up; there was nothing more important to her than Torah. It drove her to accomplish all her achievements she had in her lifetime.

The Rosh Hayeshiva also noted that the petira of Rebbetzin Weinberg marks the loss of one of the last remnants of the gadlos of Lithuanian Jewry, of which her father was a stellar representative. The Rebbetzin continued that Lithuanian remnant and we’ve lost that; it is not just a loss for her family, but for klal Yisroel. In addition, the Rebbetzin’s passing was a loss for the yeshiva, in particular, as well as the klal, because as long as she was alive,her husband, Rav Shmuel Yaakov, z”l, was alive also.

Rabbi Yochanan Zweig, Rosh Yeshiva of Yeshiva Bais Moshe Chaim, in Miami, an alumnus of Yeshivas Ner Yisroel, followed HaRav Feldman in being maspid the Rebbetzin. Rabbi Zweig noted that the Rebbetzin understood that the role of a woman is to build a bridge–a fusion between the past and the future. Having built a shalom bayis institution, she was much sought after in Florida and all over the country; people would ask, “How can we get her here?’

The Rebbetzin’s sensitivity, natural instinct, and willingness to extend herself to anyone who needed her, were exceptional. Rabbi Zweig related a story of a young woman who recently told him that her whole sense of self-esteem was because of the Rebbetzin.

HaRav Shmuel Kamenetsky, shlita, Rosh HaYeshiva of the Talmudical Yeshiva of Philadelphia, said that the Ribono shel Olam sends malachim to find out about the niftar–what he/she did for the community, for others. Torah begins only when you give to others, just not yourself. A person is not born for himself. Rebbetzin Chana did for others and she got this yerusha from her mother, Rebbetzin Ruderman, a”h. Her interest was always to do for others; even when she was not well, she thought about others.

Rabbi Matis Weinberg, a son of the nifteres, in his hesped, noted that it was not tzadikim, but tzidkonios that were responsible for the binyan (building) of klal Yisroel. He also reminisced about watching, as a youngster, the vitality and excitement with which his mother built the yeshiva’s women’s auxiliary–a vitality that never ceased. And, when his daughter was visiting her grandmother, last erev Shabbos, she reviewed with her the Rebbetzin’s past achievements. “She smiled her last smile…a smile without wrinkles, without age…three more generations..a secret smile between banos.”

Rav Beryl Weisbord, Mashgiach Ruchani of Yeshivas Ner Yisroel, and son-in-law of the nifteres, recounted that the Rebbetzin was a woman who, like her husband, exemplified being a talmida of her father and mother, without being a carbon copy.

“She took her yisodos and applied them to herself, like a true talmid of a rebbe,” said Rav Weisbord. “She preceded the times with what she brought out, what she dared to do, the way she did it, and how, even if it was not in the vogue. She wasn’t brought up in a Bais Yaakov environment; her Bais Yaakov was her home–she had a leibadicka Bais Yaakov… It wasn’t easy to be a bas yechida (only child) in a different country. When growing up in a home that was being marbitz Torah, building a community, building Torah, you didn’t always come first, and for an only child that doesn’t always come first, it is not always easy–you lead a very lonely life. The Rebbetzin took those yesodos and she built with them. She didn’t allow herself to shrivel up. She had spunk and she had koach and she applied and used it…she created a revolution.”

The Rebbetzin was a teacher par excellence, who years ago traveled four hours roundtrip, in addition to spending time teaching Talmud Torah students in Lexington Park. Later, as the director of activities in the former Jewish Convalescent Home, she excelled, as well. So devoted was she to her job, she even spent an entire Yom Kippur there, taking care of her patients. She would host several meetings at her home, for the Bikur Cholim organization she founded, as well as for other causes dedicated to helping children, adults, physically handicapped, abused women, amongst others. She would help raise funds for the causes she so believed in, and speak to the “right people” who could make it happen.

Rav Weisbord ended by thanking his wife, Dr. Aviva Weisbord, who, being the only child in Baltimore, had the opportunity and responsibility to be involved in her mother’s care to the greatest amount, but together with her sisters and brothers, worked very, very hard to see to it that the Rebbetzin was able to go on doing her communal and individual work–even when that became very difficult.

Rabbi Reuven Zwick, son-in-law of the nifteres, mentioned that the Rebbetzin once reviewed with him a Where What When column that she wrote, asking his opinion. When he answered it was ‘good’, she told him, “Good is good; better is better. Let’s turn a word around so people will understand what is coming from my heart, rather than my pen.”

Rabbi Ilan Feldman, rav of Congregation Beth Jacob of Atlanta, and son-in-law of the nifteres, remarked the Rebbetzin was born into royalty, married into royalty, carried herself royally, and spread royalty. Her life became a powerful lesson for every single Jew….the world is a different place because she shared the Torah she knew in her own unique way.

Yehuda Weisbord, grandson of the nifteres, reminisced how his grandmother would make hot cocoa for him on snowy days, and how she cared very deeply about each and every one of her children and grandchildren. Her life, he said, is a lesson of how much one person can accomplish. He related a story about a letter that was stuck in the Rebbetzin’s mailbox for three years. It was written by a woman who asked her for help settling into the community. When the Rebbetzin was finally able to extricate the letter from her mailbox, she called the sender. The woman thanked her for calling, three years later. By now, she had settled into the community, but interestingly enough, she was facing a particular problem at the time, with which the Rebbetzin was able to help her.

“She had a sense of presence,” said Yehuda Weisbord. “She could not be ignored, because the power of her convictions was such that people had to take her seriously. She had a deep sense of caring, too. She didn’t let things slide–she would confront the person to address an issue directly, giving the opportunity to make it right.”

When the Rebbetzin would travel around the world, she was interested in hearing and learning new things, rather than sightseeing. When she went to South Africa, she asked to be shown schools and eldercare facilities, rather than diamond mines and safaris.

Rav Sheftel Neuberger, menahel of Yeshivas Ner Yisroel, was the last to be maspid. He referred to the Rebbetzin as a very multi-faceted individual. He noted that it could not have been very easy for her, watching her parents fighting the tide of a community that wasn’t very enamored with the yeshiva, back in the 30s. “Who needs this?’ This is not where our world is going!’ were the sentiments at that time. Only with the perseverance of the Rebbetzin’s mother and father were they able to prevail.

The Rebbetzin went to public school, continued Rav Neuberger, where she confronted the world going in a different direction. She used her kochos to develop an incredible simchas hachaim, which served her magnificently throughout her life.

“She also had charisma, an incredible lev tov,” continued Rav Neuberger. “She was a compassionate listener with a sense of empathy that connected her with so many people–an enormous range of people, who were enamored by her simchas hachaim and charisma. She was a great motivator of people… she had qualities of leadership…there are many, many women across America, whose lives she touched in a positive way.”

May Rebbetzin Shayna Chana bas HaRav Yaakov Yitzchok HaLevi serve as a malitza yosher for all of klal Yisroel, and may the Rebbetzin’s memory live on in all of us, as we apply the many lessons we have learned from her life.

If you want to understand a person or a community, observe what he or they honor:

On the yahrzeit of our foremother Rachel, as I prepared to leave for the funeral of Rav Nosson Tzvi Finkel, of blessed memory, I received a call from a reporter from Sydney.

She wanted to discuss the antics of the zealots in Ramat Beit Shemesh. The next day Sky News called to discuss sexually segregated buses.

I told both reporters the same thing: Stop wasting your time on fringe groups and trivial issues. If you want to understand the haredi community, first find out why over 100,000 people attended the funeral of Rav Nosson Tzvi Finkel, with tens of thousands of adults sobbing openly and unashamedly. If you want to understand a person or a community, observe what he or they honor: “[A] person [reveals himself] according to what he praises” (Proverbs 26:21).

Who was the remarkable man whose passing inspired such grief? When Rabbi Finkel took over the reins of Mir Yeshiva from his father-in-law, Rabbi Beinish Finkel, in 1990, he had already been diagnosed with Parkinson’s Disease.

Many wondered how he could carry the burden, yet under his leadership the 1,000-student yeshiva expanded rapidly. New buildings were built; another branch was started in Kiryat Sefer. One yeshiva head quipped that Rav Nosson Tzvi might as well put a roof over the entire Beit Yisrael neighborhood (adjacent to Mea She’arim) and call it Mir Yeshiva. Today, 6,000 students learn in Mir Yeshiva’s many study halls, making it the largest yeshiva since the completion of the Talmud, perhaps the largest ever.

“Even when I lie down, I can’t rest because of the trembling,” he told one of his brothers-in-law, “so I think of ways to spread Torah.” Our Sages say that the Ark carried those who carried it. And so it was with Rav Nosson Tzvi.

After one long flight to Los Angeles, a crying stewardess told those who came to the airport to meet him, “Promise me you’ll never let him do this again. How could you do this to this holy man?” When people accused his brothers-in-law of “shlepping him” on grueling trips, they replied, “We don’t shlep him, he shleps us.”

He used his debilitating disease to build more Torah and to teach. A rich businessman refused his request for a large donation. “I can’t,” he said. The rosh yeshiva told him, “I can’t either, but I do anyway.” He received the donation.

Howard Schultz, the founder of Starbucks, was once was brought to see the rosh yeshiva along with a group of prominent businessman. They had not been told of his Parkinson’s, and instinctively averted their eyes when he entered the room. Soon they heard a bang on the table and Rav Nosson Tzvi commanded them, “Look at me.

“I know you are all busy men,” he continued, “so I’ll be brief. What is the most important lesson of the Holocaust?” He proceeded to describe the situation of the Jews arriving in Auschwitz and other death camps, after having been packed into cattle cars for days, without water or facilities of any kind, and then being separated from their loved ones. When the lucky ones reached a barracks, they were given one blanket for six people. They could choose to share it or each one could try to grab it for himself.

They chose the former. “The greatest lesson of the Holocaust,” he concluded, “is the triumph of the human spirit. Now, each of you return to America and share your blanket with five others.”

Someone once asked him for advice on how to learn Torah even amidst afflictions. Rav Nosson Tzvi told him that he didn’t know. “I learn with great simha (joy),” he said. He refused to take the strongest medicines to control his disease for fear they would cloud his mind or rob him of his memory. When he mounted the dais in the Mir Yeshiva to give a lecture in the main study hall, he had to hold fast to two podiums to remain upright and he never knew whether he would be able to control his tongue sufficiently to speak. Once a violent tremor threw him from the couch, on which he lay prone, onto the floor while in the middle of learning with a student.

Even before he was helped up, he was asking his study partner to repeat the interpretation he had been offering.

Just as one would not begrudge the money spent to ransom a loved one, he viewed his ordeals as trivial price to pay for teaching and learning Torah, and not as selfsacrifice.

Everywhere he went, people of all ages rushed to be within four cubits of him and witness a soul that had so transcended the limits of the imperfect vessel of his body.

OUR SAGES give several possible explanations for the tests with which a tzaddik (righteous person) is afflicted.

Sometimes those tests serve to actualize his potential; sometimes to publicize his greatness. I will never forget the first time I saw Rav Nosson Tzvi, over 30 years ago, at the wedding of a former student. I had no idea who he was, but I could not take my eyes off of him. A Mona Lisa smile did not leave his lips the entire time I watched. It conveyed goodness and love and elation in a student’s joyous occasion. I asked someone, “Who is that man who looks like an angel?” The special qualities were already there.

With love, he inspired thousands of young men to reach heights they had never dreamed possible. In the Mir Yeshiva, under Rav Nosson Tzvi, it did not matter where you were from, your family connections, or how high your IQ. Rav Nosson Tzvi was prepared to help each student reach his potential. He never forgot that he had arrived at the Mir Yeshiva, lanky teenaged Nattie from a coed Jewish high school in Chicago, wearing a Cubs hat (though, he quipped, the golf clubs were left behind).

From his days as a young newlywed until he was felled by a sudden heart attack, he made it a practice to establish study sessions with any student who requested one.

A rosh yeshiva several decades Rav Nosson Tzvi’s senior once came to visit him. Despite Rav Nosson Tzvi’s protests, the older scholar insisted it was incumbent upon him to visit someone who knew 3,000 students by name. “I’m not sure if I know each one by name,” Rav Nosson Tzvi said, “but I love each one.” All those who entered the Mir found out that this was true.

A ba’al teshuva (returnee to religious observance) recently arrived at the Mir from the Ohr Somayach Yeshiva could not find the special penitential prayers in an unfamiliar prayer book. His humiliation was rising by the second, until Rav Nosson Tzvi, who had somehow noticed his discomfiture, came rushing over with a prayer book open to the correct page. Such stories are legion: Rav Nosson Tzvi checking on students in their sealed rooms during the Gulf War; Rav Nosson Tzvi personally taking a student who fainted in class to a doctor and then insisting that he move into the crowded Finkel home; Rav Nosson Tzvi accompanying a student who was about to be married in his search for an apartment; Rav Nosson Tzvi, just back from a fund-raising trip abroad, crying at the beginning of his Friday Torah class because “I missed you all so much.”

Those who had been sure the rosh yeshiva would not remember them from years before in the yeshiva were astonished to be greeted as “My Chaim,” in a long receiving line, or to be reminded of a difficulty they had posed to the rosh yeshiva a decade earlier. Some sought to avoid imposing on the rosh yeshiva to officiate at their weddings, which entailed him arriving in a wheelchair and being assisted by at least two others to the huppa. To no avail. Inevitably they would receive a call in the middle of wedding that the rosh yeshiva was outside and wanted to wish the new couple “mazel tov.” A former student from America begged the rosh yeshiva not to attend his son’s bar mitzvah at the Western Wall. “I missed your chasanah [wedding] 15 years ago; I’m not missing the bar mitzva,” Rav Nosson Tzvi told him.

“Not a blade of grass grows unless an angel strikes it and says, ‘Grow,’” our Sages teach. Rav Nosson Tzvi was that angel for tens of thousands of students and dozens of promising young scholars whom he appointed to give classes in Mir Yeshiva. The image of the rosh yeshiva learning in a freezing cold room to be able to meet his daily quota of learning inspired. But above all it was his smile, the way he grasped your hand in both of his, that will leave a lasting impression.

Mendy entered the Mir Yeshiva after an indifferent career in other yeshivot. But the rosh yeshiva was always ready to provide another chance. Toward the end of a long five-month semester, the rosh yeshiva announced that he would like the unmarried students to commit to learning 12 hours a day, without any breaks. It never occurred to Mendy that the rosh yeshiva could have meant him. A few days later, the rosh yeshiva approached Mendy and asked why his name was not on the sign-up list.

Mendy could not believe the absence of his name had been noticed among hundreds of names. But when he saw that the rosh yeshiva was serious, he signed up. The first days were very difficult. But after dropping into bed exhausted on the third night of the new regime, Mendy found himself dreaming about the Talmud in his sleep.

The next morning he told the rosh yeshiva what had happened. Rav Nosson Tzvi spontaneously began to dance with him in the study hall.

Now you know why we are weeping.

http://www.examiner.com/jewish-culture-in-philadelphia/jacob-the-liar-rabbi-hirsch-on-a-troubling-aspect-of-the-current-torah-reading

Published Friday, November 25, 2011, 11:13 A.M.

A few years ago, I attended a special exhibit at the Metropolitan Museum of Art featuring “The Gates of Paradise,” magnificent bronze doors on loan from the Baptistery in Florence, fashioned by the renowned Italian sculptor Lorenzo Ghiberti. The doors depict images of ten famous scenes from the Bible, from Adam and Eve to Solomon and Sheba. Next to me stood two women, one of whom was not familiar with the stories behind the artwork. When she heard the infamous story of Rebecca and Jacob’s conspiracy to steal Isaac’s blessings, the listener was aghast, exclaiming in sincere shock, “how is it that we name our children Rebecca and Jacob after such evil people?!” In another unflattering reading of the story, celebrity radio minister Fulton Sheen would inspire his listeners by declaring, “If a thief and liar like Jacob could become chosen by G-d, anyone can!” Such criticism of this seminal event and of Jacob in particular, is extremely problematic. After all, Jacob is eventually named “Israel”, equated with perfection(1) and considered the epitome of the human evolution that began with Adam(2). Any condemnation of Jacob is essentially a condemnation of the Jewish people which would evolve from and be named for him. Why then would God have the Jewish nation emanate from such a morally ambiguous act?

Even more confusing are Isaac’s decisions that prompted Jacob’s deceit. Our tradition teaches that Jacob was the personification of truth and goodness(3) while his elder twin brother Esav, the intended recipient of Isaac’s blessings, was deemed the root of evil(4). There are several indications that Isaac knew about Esav’s ungodly nature(5). The question one must ask is how Isaac could make the colossal mistake of nearly handing the mantle of the Jewish nation to Esav in the first place.
The truth is, Isaac had no reason to believe that one of his children would advance Abraham’s dynasty to the exclusion of the other. The logical assumption was that the rogue Esav and the timid Jacob would enter a partnership, each contributing their strength to the development of the nation(6). Esav would manage the physical aspect of nationhood, including organizing the military; building national infrastructure and government; and creating agricultural and economic viability(7). Jacob, on the other hand, would lead the spiritual aspect, dedicating his life to Torah study, prayer, and Godliness(8). Isaac’s bifurcated blessings to each of his sons clearly express this vision. Whereas Esav’s blessings were almost entirely related to the material world(9), Jacob’s “Blessing of Abraham”(10) focused on the continuity of God’s sacred relationship with Abraham’s progeny. Isaac’s vision of complementary leaders also illustrates his defining trait of “Din” or strict justice, which acts as an instrument of categorization and definition, resolving concepts into their individual components(11).

In complete opposition to Isaac’s picturing of a nation led by separate powers, it was Rebecca who understood that a nation on a spiritual mission could not succeed in a fragmented state. For Jacob and for Israel to survive as God’s nation, she claimed it was imperative that the physical inheritance not be divorced from the spiritual one–that splitting these two essential elements would mean damaging the very foundation from which the nation was formed.

It is easier to understand Rebecca’s position if we first examine the way Torah defines the interrelationship between physical and spiritual. Essentially, we are told that the purpose of God’s creation of a physical universe was to provide space for human existence (in Kabbalistic terminology, tzimtzum). Without the physical, there would be God’s presence alone, leaving no room for our existence(12). As a result, to devalue the physical is to devalue our own existence and impair any ability to connect with God, for only when we possess our own distinct physical existence can we fully connect to spirituality, another word for Godliness. We are taught that in the ultimate human state, soul and body are fully combined, since without the physical body a soul is in an imperfect transitory state(13).

Throughout history, humanity has struggled to explain the apparent dichotomy between “physical” and “spiritual.” Some say the physical universe is all there is, while others vilify it as an obstruction to attaining a true spiritual self. Once we understand that meaningful reality only exists within a synthesis of physical and spiritual, we can shed this painful conflict that forces humanity to remain inevitably torn. The physical is, therefore, not inherently evil or profane; nor is it simply a vessel, or a means to a holy end. The physical grants each of us our unique space so that spirituality can be transformed from the realm of the universal to the realm of the individual. In other words, though God exists beyond the physical, we as spiritual beings cannot exist without the physical providing space for that existence(14).

Rebecca thus implored Jacob to prepare food, representative of the physical realm, and to aggressively appear as Esav’s clone, to prove that the physical and the spiritual can and must be unified. Consequently, Jacob’s declaration of “I am Esav, your firstborn son” involved none of the denial of a classic lie*15). It was an unapologetic assertion to his father that he could connect to the physical world on the level of Esav, and that these powers should not be segregated(16). Indeed, Isaac sensed Jacob’s connection to the Garden of Eden(17) where physical and spiritual were once integrated at the highest level. That is why, when Isaac realized what Jacob had done, he confirmed Jacob’s physical blessings instead of reacting with anger(18). Finally, this concept is eventually symbolized by Jacob’s ladder, which represents the necessary interrelationship of the realms of the heavens (spiritual) and the earth (physical) along an uninterrupted continuum(19).

Although our physical universe seems eternally polarized between good and evil, eternal and ephemeral, religious and secular; the Torah’s definition of holiness lies specifically in the successful integration of both the physical and the spiritual. Societal and religious conventions sometimes convince us that the physical world is the antithesis to holiness; however, Rebecca and Jacob taught us that the objective is “Tiferet” or “synthesis”(20), where our physical and spiritual selves are intertwined in a single whole, each dependent on, and developing from, the other(21). Our jobs, our health, our physical desires, should not be viewed as an unfortunate consequence of life in a physical universe or even as a means to a spiritual end. Rather, our physical existence is the form that allows us to develop as unique spiritual beings. To deny the physical is to deny the very aspect in which the spiritual is manifest, and ultimately, our ability to attain holiness.

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(1) Pesikta Rabati 1:1

(2) Zohar Yitro

(3) Yalkut Shimoni Tehilim 15

(4) aPesikta Zutrata Genesis 36, et al.

(5) Genesis Rabba 65:19 et al.

(6) Malbim and Rabbi Samson Raphael Hirsch, Genesis.

(7) For example, see Eliyahu Rabba 18 and Shabbat 33a

(8) Genesis Rabba 63

(9) Genesis 27:28-29 10. Genesis 28: 3-4

(10) Genesis 28: 3-4

(11) Rav ChaimVital, Mevoh She’arim et al.

(12) Ibid.

(13) Derech Hashem 1:5

(14) See Mesilat Yesharim 26 et al.

(15) Aside from the fact that lying is permitted in critical situations. See Yevamot 55b

(16) Ohr Hachaim Genesis 27, Rav Tzadok HaKohen Toldot, et al.

(17) Tanchuma 16 18.Genesis Rabba 67:2

(18) Genesis Rabba 67:2

(19) Genesis Rabba 69:7

(20) Zohar Chadash, Yitro

(21) Tikunei Zohar 70

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Rabbi Eli Hirsch is the spiritual leader of Mekor Habracha, a warm congregation with inspiring services located at 2000 Chestnut Street, second floor, in the Rittenhouse Square neighborhood of Center City Philadelphia.

Friday night services in the shorter-daytime months run for approximately an hour starting a few minutes before sunset; This week, they they will begin at 4:30 PM. Saturday morning services are from 9:15 AM until 11:45 AM all year round, followed by a delicious kiddush, and brief afternoon services at 12:15 PM. Everyone is welcome to attend at any time during services.

Rabbi Hirsch is also leading two new classes at the synagogue on Thursday evenings: “Practical Jewish Philosophy” from 6:15-7:00 PM, and “Yeshiva Style Talmud” from 7:00-8:00 PM. Everyone is welcome.

For all synagogue programs and information, please visit the Mekor Habracha/CenterCity Synagogue website at www.ccshul.com.

Published in the Philadelphia Examiner Wednesday, November 9, 2011, 11:08 AM http://www.examiner.com/jewish-culture-in-philadelphia/why-did-god-ask-abraham-to-sacrifice-isaac-rabbi-eliezer-hirsch-explains

One of the most perplexing episodes in the Torah occurs in this week’s portion, Vayeira, when God calls upon Abraham to sacrifice his son Isaac on an altar. Many have questioned the purpose of this request, and satisfactory answers seem elusive. Some posit that God wanted to test Abraham’s loyalty. Others trace martyrdom (and even suicide bombers) to this incident. Perhaps in frustration, still others suggest the command was arbitrary, imagined, or allegorical. In any case, our tradition relates that Abraham had already shown willingness to die for God. (Midrash Rabba Genesis 39:3, Rashi Avot 5:4). Was it necessary to yet again put Abraham’s loyalty to the test, particularly at Isaac’s expense?

Abraham’s great discovery was the concept of “Chesed” or loving-kindness (Zohar Genesis 146). He spread a message that resonated with tens of thousands of followers (Mishneh Torah, Avodat Kochavim 1:3): the existence of an infinite creator who desires to shower love and spiritual pleasure upon his creations. Abraham’s subsequent experiences with God’s tests forced him to confront a profound paradox: how could this loving, benevolent creator be reconciled with a cold world full of seemingly cruel “tests”? If only we could conceive of an approach to this challenging query, a “Unified Theological Theory” would be within reach.

We are told that “God tested Abraham ten times” (Avot 5:4). The truth is, these tests were meant to demonstrate that the purpose of life’s trials is not to weed out the disloyal, but rather to establish the fully developed identity of the individual. Without an awareness of independent, constantly evolving, selfhood, Abraham’s and God’s mutual goal of love and relationship is inconceivable. Mature relationship cannot be born out of coercion, nor can it be founded on dependency or emotional neediness. Genuine love is a choice made by two individuals who recognize the value of their own existence, and are therefore capable of relating to another without suffering a loss of self. Essentially, it is only such an independent identity, emerging from life’s tests, that can allow for healthy love and relationship to endure.

Of course, there is a fundamental contradiction to that critical independence—life itself is given to us. How can we attain selfhood if the very life in which we become ourselves is granted by God? Abraham had to face this very contradiction. He had earned much in his life; however, his son’s life and the nation it would generate were bestowed upon him as a gift from God. If “givens” create dependency, thereby damaging the possibility for mutual relationship and love, Abraham’s revelation regarding loving-kindness and the shared relationship between God and His creations becomes embroiled in an inevitable Catch-22.

There is one possible resolution to this quandary, all too familiar to those who have faced life-threatening situations. Individuals who have undergone a critical illness or survived a serious accident are most able to appreciate life, acutely cognizant of its significance after confronting death. In fact, in this state of awareness they are almost incapable of taking life for granted, always mindful of how precarious it really is. Because they don’t hold the common assumption that their existence “belongs” to them, they are free to create an identity unlimited by longing for a security they know they can never possess. Only then does life become a magnificent gift to be utilized, rather than a matter of ownership or dependency.

For Abraham to escape the potential bondage of everything given him, he needed to endure the most devastating experience of all, one that challenged everything he ever counted on. The Binding of Isaac showed Abraham that all he treasured could be seized from him in a single, insane instant, by none other than God Himself. It demonstrated once and for all that nothing, not God’s chosen nation, not even life itself, can be taken as a comfortable given.

Only after this test could both Abraham and Isaac live as true individualists, setting the foundation of the rest of their lives and of Jewish history with an understanding that those things that are given to us are not our own. Life may be allotted to us free of charge, but the story of the Binding of Isaac illustrates that, ironically, we can only fully become ourselves if we live as having narrowly eluded the clutches of death. Then, we can “let go” to the extent that we feel we have nothing to lose other than our own potential. Deep down, most of us can accept that the immense pleasure found in this kind of freedom, this authentic independence and opportunity for meaningful love, justifies life’s trials, and only a lesson this significant could warrant a command so extreme.

The Binding of Isaac is meant to create a paradigm shift in our outlook on life. Those things that are granted us, be they looks or abilities, are not our own and should not identify or define us. What we call “I” is only the result of developing all that was given to us. It is in understanding this subtle distinction that we become free of attitudes that hold us back from the crowning achievement of self-actualization, and that which can ultimately propel us to greatness and love.

I have often heard and read that the Jewish holiday most resembling Halloween is Purim, mostly because of masquerading and varied forms of “Trick or Treating” that connect the two days. It is possible, however, that the Jewish holiday of Sukkot, which ended just a few days ago, best fits this bill.
Both Sukkot and the American version of Halloween are harvest festivals, marking the end of the agricultural cycle. We see symbols of pumpkins, corn husks and scarecrows on Halloween, and, on Sukkot, palm, myrtle, and willow branches; citrons; and outdoor huts primarily built of vegetation.
Both holidays mark the autumn season when plant life slowly begins to shrivel and die as we edge toward winter, and themes of death dominate.
Halloween has scary pumpkins, frightful costumes and more recently, its own horror movies.
Sukkot is called “chag ha-asif,” which doubles as “the harvest celebration” and “the holiday of death.” On Sukkot, we read the book of Ecclesiastes, whose Hebrew name, “Kohelet,” has the same double translation as “asif” (harvest/death). King Solomon, as Ecclesiastes, focuses on the futility of our transient, physical universe, and he teaches that “better is the day of death than a birthday” (7:1). The sukkah is invalid unless the roof is made up of shrubs that are dead (Tractate Sukkah 1:4).
The messages of the two harvest festivals may be contrasted: Halloween emphasizes fear of death, while Sukkot is dubbed “the holiday of happiness” by our sages. This may teach that acceptance of death is the key to finding true happiness.
If we ponder this point, we may come to realize that uniqueness and meaning is a direct product of death. If each moment lived forever, it would not be a unique moment in time. If all people lived forever, they would lose their uniqueness as well. Ironically, it is death that provides our significance as individuals.
Sukkot, the festival of death, is the culmination of a month, Tishrei, which provides each of us with distinctness in a transient world created solely for the purpose of providing individual significance.
As we approach the cold winter months, the harvest festival of Sukkot reveals that, to appreciate life, we should not fear death but savor the opportunity only a world that will eventually die can offer us. Carry this lesson with you, and you will relish life, and find true happiness always.

Keeping Jewish Heritage Alive in Center City

By Cristina Hanganu-Bresch

….While film festivals and art exhibitions may hold a broader appeal for Jewish as well as non-Jewish audiences, religious services in synagogues face more complex challenges in trying to attract and retain the young and encourage them to practice Judaism as a way of life. Center City alone is home to over seven synagogues including Rittenhouse Square’s own Beth Zion (300 S 18th St.), Leyv Ha-Ir (1906 S. Rittenhouse Square), and the relative newcomer Mekor Habracha, (127 S. 22^nd Street).

We had a chance to sit with Rabbi Eli Hirsch of Mekor Habracha – a synagogue initiated in 1999 through the outreach efforts of the Etz Chaim Center for Jewish Studies. Eli (pronounced ELLIE) attempts to address the issue of keeping Judaism attractive to the younger generations by taking a laid-back, convivial approach to services. The Rabbi describes the new synagogue at 127 S. 22^nd Street as being formed of more casual people, who come there to socialize as well as learn. For this younger crowd (which constitutes 70% of its members), he has devised a “user-friendly” service in which he explains the Torah in a down-to-earth manner, and moreover, how to apply those teachings in real life. It’s Torah for the new millennium, for the hip crowd—Judaism made relevant to a group of people who yearn precisely for that kind of energetic and sensible approach. And, at Mekor Habracha, one has the advantage of speaking one on one with the rabbi and other congregates at informal gatherings or “kiddush”—literally the blessing of the wine. For this occasion, Rabbi Hirsch presents his own delicious cholent (a hot vegetarian stew)—a sure hit, the Rabbi assures us with his broad, contagious grin.

Mekor Habracha had a tentative early start (the first rabbi left in 2001) and a number of years of infrequent meetings at the Etz Chaim center. The congregation hired Rabbi Hirsch in March 2006 and since then its small community has grown and its outreach programs have expanded considerably. Eli has an infectious passion when he talks about his work in the new synagogue; it soon becomes clear that that fire comes from the kind of unwavering faith and passion that can inspire crowds and move mountains.

The Rabbi’s talents do not stop at cooking. His role as a spiritual guide is a comprehensive, 24/7 job; to that end, he holds Saturday classes on the teachings of the Torah and an “Executive Study Program,” which offers one-on-one individualized study of Talmudic wisdom that can apply to all aspects of one’s life—including the search for meaningful relationships. Hirsch also holds relationship seminars and is partnered with a matchmaking service because he believes that in the areas of love, commitment, and partnership, the Torah can be of particular help.

For Rabbi Hirsch, Judaism is all about living a just and good life according to the principles of the Torah, and the Rabbi is helping young people navigate those principles with flair, aplomb, humor, and common sense. Ultimately, Rabbi Hirsch is trying to instill in the members of his synagogue the values of Judaism as an organic way of life, rather than as an occasional religious practice. And what’s in store for the (observant) Jewish community for the month of Elul? Perhaps it could be best described in Rabbi’s words: rediscovering what one’s own life is about. Judaism asks, in Rabbi’s opinion, what life is and concludes that it is first and foremost a question of being and identity, rather than one of doing and action. To Rabbi Hirsch’s regret, Americans still favor the question relating to action (what one should do) over the question related to being (who one should be), neglecting perhaps to acknowledge the importance of introspection and self-awareness. “According to the Torah,” says Rabbi Eli Hirsch, “life is about the process of self-actualization that connects a person to the ultimate truth, and helps that person become the human being he or she was meant to be.” He professes that once a person lives in the truth, he or she stops being afraid, and that is the ultimate freedom and our boon for living on earth. For all those observing Elul, but not only, here’s to hoping that they may achieve that kind of clarity. Also: K’tiva V’Hatima Tova!

Want to find more about the meaning of life according to Rabbi Hirsch? Mekor Habracha is located at 127 22^nd Street (between Walnut and Sansom); for more information visit www.ccshul.com.

Our new sitation is an exciting one, as it opens the possibility of becoming a fully functioning, independent synagogue. On the other hand, simply maintaining our status quo will require a significant increase in the operating budget.

Fundraising efforts have gotten off to a good start, and we are fortunate to have many wonderful individuals working hard to help us achieve our goals. For us to survive and thrive, it is vital that we increase these efforts. While we are pursuing funding sources outside our group (e.g. grants, individual donors), if our project is to be taken seriously, it is also necessary to maximize resources and participation from within the community. Until now we have not had a formal membership policy, but this is a logical place to start as we begin to build for the future.

We are, therefore, requesting that you become a member of our synagogue, Mekor Habracha/Center City Synagogue, by completing the attached form. If you have not yet made a pledge, inclusive of dues, please send the appropriate amount to our treasurer, Ellen B. Geller, 768 North Croskey Street, Philadelphia, PA 19130. You can also pay dues and make contributions online at: https://networkforgood.org

If you are unable to pay the requested membership dues at this time, please fill out the application and remit any amount you can afford. If you can donate additional funds beyond the nominal membership fee, we greatly appreciate your generosity.

We look forward to working together to realize our shared vision.

Sincerely,
Bruce Taubman, President
Rabbi Eliezer Hirsch