This Day God Has Made - Let Us Rejoice and Be Glad in It" "Thus says the Lord of hosts: Old men and old women shall yet again dwell in the streets of Jerusalem, and every man with his staff in his hand because of his old age. And the streets of the city shall be full of boys and girls playing in its streets. Thus says the Lord of hosts: If it will be wondrous in the eyes of the remnant of this nation in those days, it will also be wondrous in my eyes, says the Lord of hosts." [Zekharia 8:4-6] In this description by the prophet Zekharia, no exceptional or supernatural phenomenon is mentioned. There is no unique event, nor any description of awesome strength. All we have here, in effect, is a simple, pastoral description of normal life. The grandfather and grandmother are sitting in Jerusalem, walking-sticks in hand, and the grandchildren are playing in the streets. Can it be that it is this very scene that, according to the prophet, will be "wondrous in the eyes of the remnant of this nation?" Is it possible that such a natural scene prompts God to add, "it will also be wondrous in my eyes?" Zekharia prophesied great and inspiring events, but it is specifically here that "wondrousness" is mentioned. Moreover, Rabbi Akiva, the great Tanna, was able to look clearly, to smile and to laugh at the very destruction of the Temple when he was reminded of this prophecy.

by Rav Aharon Lichtenstein

Why Yaakov Settled in Eretz Yisrael Parashat Vayeshev begins: “Yaakov settled in the land of his father’s dwelling, in the land of Canaan” (Bereishit 37:1). What need is there for the seeming repetition about where he dwelt? The commentators offer several explanations; I believe the simplest is a combination of those suggested by Rashbam and Ibn Ezra.

The verse sets forth two separate reasons for Yaakov’s choice of where to settle. One is the fact that it was “the land of his father’s dwelling,” his family home. The other is that it was “the land of Canaan,” as the Ibn Ezra explains, “the chosen land.” What is significant about the fact that it was “the land of his father’s dwelling?”

Yom HaAtzmaut has been integrated into the calendrical cycle of the Jewish people and of the State of Israel.  It is therefore fitting to compare and contrast it with other festivals, especially Pesach, which is the holiday most connected to the history of the Jewish people.

By examining three levels of our observance of festivals, we may learn about the nature of Yom Ha-atzma'ut. We observe every festival in accordance with its inherent nature, and in accordance with our current situation.  Clearly, there are specific

The last two pesukim of Parshat Vayetseh state: “And Yaakov went on his way, and angels of G-d encountered him. And Yaakov said when he saw them, “This is a G-dly camp [Machaneh].” And he called the name of that place Machanayim. (32:2-3).” An obvious, linguistic problem in the second passuk is pointed out by Rashi: Why would Yaakov call the place “Machanayim” ( “Camps”) in the plural tense, rather than “Machaneh” in the single tense?

The single tense is used by Yaakov in the first Passuk when he says, “This is a G-dly camp [Machaneh].” Why the discrepancy?

Parshat Pinchas includes several “hidden” verses which are rarely discussed, because they are buried in the middle of a lengthy and tedious description of census taking and land allocation:

לאלה תחלק הארץ בנחלה למספר שמות לרב תרבה נחלתו ולמעט תמעיט נחלתו איש לפי פקדיו יתן נחלתו אך בגורל יחלק את הארץ לשמות מטות אבותם ינחלו

“To these, the Land should be divided for an inheritance, according to the number of names. To the numerous you shall give more, and to the fewer you shall give less. Nevertheless the Land shall be divided by lot; according to the names of the tribes of their fathers, they shall inherit.” The last phrase of this commandment, which provides guidance regarding land allotment, is particularly puzzling:

Throughout the Torah, Hashem promises rewards for keeping Mitzvot – promises of peace, long life, territory and wealth. This Parsha, however, offers a different type of reward: the gift of fertility: “This shall be the reward when [Ekev] you hearken to these ordinances and you observe and perform them… Hashem will love you, bless you and multiply you, and bless the fruit of your womb... there will be no barren men or women amongst you…” (Devarim 7:12-14)

Why is fertility mentioned here? And why is it necessary, after stating that Hashem will “bless the fruit of your womb,” to repeat “there will be no barren men and women”?

The primary narrative of Parshat Shelach involves Chet Ha’Meraglim, the sin of the spies. This story is the last in a series of sins, complaints and rebellions which take place while Bnei Yisrael are traveling in the desert. It is this last episode, however -- and not the earlier ones -- which results in the greatest of punishments for the emergent nation: the Divine decree that they remain in the desert for another generation. In comparing Chet Ha’Mergalim to the earlier stories, primarily Chet Ha’Egel (the sin of the golden calf), one might assume that Chet Ha’Egel is the more severe, or problematic, of the two.

How could the Jewish nation worship a calf, so soon after experiencing the miracles of Egypt? How could the people turn to idol worship, so soon after proclaiming Na’aseh V’Nishmeh – “We will do and we will hear!” – at Mount Sinai?

This week’s portion, Parshat Miketz, is packed with action: It includes Yosef’s interpretation of Pharaoh’s dreams, his subsequent career as Viceroy of Egypt, the development of the famine, the visit of Yosef’s brothers and the arrest of Binyamin. Hidden among these dramatic events is an innocuous episode that receives little attention – the naming of Yosef’s sons, Menashe and Efraim.

Parshat Bereishit bursts with colorful narratives and fantastic scenes such as Creation, Gan Eden, the Etz Hada’at, and Kayin and Hevel, all of which portray the earliest history and birth of humankind. It is the last of these stories, Kayin and Hevel, which is usually portrayed as the most negative – a first, sad introduction to murder and subsequent punishment. Is this perception correct?

In an initial statement about Kayin, the Passuk states: “And it was at the end of days and Kayin brought of the fruit of the land as a gift to G-d.” (Breishit 4:3) Kayin created the concept of “giving back” to G-d. He harvested his fields and wanted to bring Bikurim, his first fruits.

This week’s sedra describes the carefully structured encampment of the Jewish people around the Mishkan: ‘Every man of the Children of Israel shall pitch by his own banner, according to the insignia of his father’s household.’ (Bamidbar 2:2) Each fami ly had its own prescribed location within the national unit, which was maintained while the people marched and camped. The orchestration of this tribal structure was impressive enough to inspire the blessing of the prophet Bilaam. We read his poetic description in our daily prayers: ‘How goodly are your tents, O, Yaakov, and your tabernacles, O Israel!’ (Bamidbar 24:5) What is peculiar, though, is that the tribal -based encampment was established in the second year of the nation’s desert travels. Why? Should it not have been established at the beginning?

Balak relates the unusually colorful drama of Bilaam the prophet and his multiple attempts to curse the Jewish nation. The entire storyline is somewhat perplexing; as readers, we receive contradictory messages as to whether Hashem gives Bilaam permission to join Balak’s poisonous journey. If we look at the text, we are confronted with a dizzying back and forth narrative: First, Hashem warns Bilaam: ‘You shall not go with them [imahem].’ (22:12) Then, Hashem seems to retract His warning: ‘Get up and go with them [itam]; but only that which I instruct you to say, that you shall do.’ (22:20) Bilaam joins the Moavite messengers, and Hashem responds angrily: ‘And G-d’s anger was kindled because he [Bilaam] went.’ (22:22) But then again, Bilaam receives permission to go with Balak’s contingent: ‘Go with the men, but only that which I tell you, you should speak.’ (22:35)

During the first week that we were here in Israel, my 9-year-old daughter started her endearing friendship with a girl upstairs in our building.  The girl invited her along with her family to the gravesite of Rebbe Meir Bal Ha Nes. Being from Seattle, where there are no holy gravesites people are just not so tuned into open miracles and the concept of what it means to pray at the grave of a righteous person. It is true that we know about it, but in reality we don't get to see miracles as everyday occurrences.

The narrative of the Exodus, at its climax, makes use of a very unusual word to describe the course of events. The pasuk states:

“Vaiyhi b’etzem hayom hazeh, hotzi Hashem et B’nei Yisra’eil mei’eretz Mitzraiyim al tziv’otam.”
“And it was, on that very day, God took the children of Israel out of Egypt, on their legions.” (Sh’mot 12:51)

To quote Abe Lincoln In his Gettysburg Address About "Bringing forth A new nation" Lest we forget How, why and when We were brought Home to Am Yisrael It was made quite clear By the NBN team Who arranged for The 2004 Olim To celebrate at a dinner In a Beit Shemesh Hall Everyone would agree They sure had a ball. The feeling of comraderie Was quite wonderful to see. Almost daily one can meet New NBN arrivals. It sure is a treat!! Ray Walker ('04)

This past spring I was in the Makolet next to my office. The produce guy came out with a tray of sliced watermelon. He brought it over to the cashier and offered us some. At first I said "No thanks" but he insisted.

"Pa'amayim KiTov! (it was Tuesday) Its really good, have some!" Here was a guy who "appeared" to have little Jewish learning and outward trappings of Judaism who was so in touch with Jewish life! Wow!

Josh Mark ‘03

It's rare to be presented with conclusive evidence of G-d's existence, rarer when two pieces of evidence present themselves on the same day. Every Sunday night for the past ten months we've been hosting three American students from a local post high school yeshiva.  The come over for some home baked goodies, informal Jewish learning and "anything goes" conversations.  With the year coming to a close and the trio returning to America, I thought it would be nice to end our time together with an overnight camping trip at the Dead Sea.  Naturally they all readily agreed to the idea. Heading out two hours later than we were supposed to, we got to Jerusalem from Beit Shemesh, drove past the growing city of Ma'aleh Adumim and found ourselves on the winding, single lane road that leads to the Dead Sea beach area. 

On Monday of Pesach, My wife and I loaded kids, carriages and matzo into the van and headed to Jerusalem.  We were planning on stopping to visit with some relatives who were staying in a hotel and were having dinner over at our cousins.  In between we were going to visit the Kotel. There is a mitzvah to visit the site of the Temple in Jerusalem on the three major Jewish holidays, Pesach, Shavuot and Sukkot.  I'd always wondered what Jerusalem looked like all those all those years ago as thousands of people thronged the city with a menagerie of animals and children.  I think we got a taste of it in modern terms that day.

Fifty years ago, on the morning of January 25th 1949, my grandfather, Shimon Leib Alpert, made his way out to the polling booth, on the very first election day in the country's history.  His brother, Moshe Alpert, accompanied him, and on that festive day - as he did every day - he recorded his experiences in his journal.  With his usual precision he detailed the most technical aspects of the voting process, along with the deep religious and national excitement of the day.

Moshe Alpert, who left a journal of 1,200 pages, was a man of the old settlement (yishuv hayashan), third generation in the country, and a teacher at the Talmud Torah Eitz Chaim.  But those titles do not encapsulate the man.