Parashat Vayechi: Legacies and Values

Dedicated to the memory of Daniel Rubin zl

Yankel and Miriam have been married for seventy years.  Sitting on what will soon become his death bed at the age of ninety-five, he is surrounded by his wife and five children, David, Max, Josh, Bobby and Hannah.  He speaks slowly in a barely audible voice.

“David, my eldest son, when I die I want you to take over the running of the business.”

David replies, “Yes, Dad.”  At which point, Miriam looks at Yankel and says, “Yankel, I know how close you feel to David but he’s not cut out to be a businessman.  Better, you should give the responsibility to Max.  After all, his last three companies have been successfully trading on the Stock Exchange.”

Yankel looks at Miriam and says, “Ok, Miriam, Max can run the business.”

He then looks across the bed to Josh and says, “My wonderful Joshua, you’ve always admired my 1952 Bentley Mark VI Special and I know how much you enjoyed accompanying me when we used to take it out for a spin.  I want you to have the car.”

Before he can answer, Miriam says, “Yankel, have you seen how many points Josh has accrued?  He’s barely legal!  Better, that you give the car to David as he’s such a careful driver.”

Yankel looks at Miriam and says, “OK, Miriam, David gets the car.”

He continues.  “Bobby, do you remember how we used to play golf near the cottage in the Cotswolds every summer when you were growing up?  I want you to have the house.”

To which Miriam cuts in again, “Yankel, are you mad?  Bobby doesn’t know the first thing about running a home.  Have you seen the hovel he lives in?  You know what, why don’t you leave the cottage to Hannah instead.  She will be so house proud and don’t forget that she’s getting married in the Summer.  She and Adam love the area.”

Yankel turns to Miriam and mustering all the strength that remains in his body, says, “Miriam, please remind me as to who is dying, is it you or me?”

This joke is redolent of the Jewish attitude to death.  In his final hours, when Yankel should be concentrating on affirming the legacy that he’s spent his entire life creating, he is frustrated by his wife’s interference in his final plans.  The joke is funny because both Yankel and the audience know that she’s right.  It’s just that he’d like to be given the opportunity to have the final word!

This week’s Parasha of Vayechi, in tandem with its Haftarah, focuses respectively on the last days of Yaakov Avinu/Jacob and David Hamelech (King David).  Surrounded by their heirs and successors, they were aware of the legacies they were about to leave behind and the values that they wished to transmit to their children and future generations.  In both cases, these would significantly impact on the spiritual development and long-term survival of their descendants.

Yaakov and David were acutely aware that seated before them, were men whose actions could either unite the Jewish (or in those days, Israelite) nation or tear it asunder.

Yaakov blessed each of his sons individually, along with his grandsons, Efraim and Menashe.

Knowing his son’s characteristics, he also admonished them, making them aware of their faults. as we see in the brachot bestowed upon Reuven, Shimon and Levy.  Despite his initial wish to let the sons know what would happen ‘at the end of days’ (details of which were hidden from him by Hashem), he was still able to prophesise what could (and sadly did) transpire if the relationship between the brothers (and by extension, tribes) fractured.

His children and their progeny surrounded his bedside in a rare moment of unity and he died satisfied in the knowledge that his legacy was secure and that the values that he, and by extension we the Jewish people, the Bnei Yisrael hold so dear, had been transmitted to future generations. 

What more could anyone ask for?

King David wished to ensure exactly the same thing.  The greatest ruler we have ever had urged his son, the soon-to-be-enthroned King Solomon, to follow Gd’s commandments and rule wisely and justly.

However, he was not so fortunate.

He had spent much of his life on the battlefield but his most deadly enemies were none other than his own sons, Avshalom/Absalom and Adoniyah.  Add to that, he encountered the treachery of friends that he thought he could trust.

Unlike his ancestor Yaakov, his words were replete with bitterness and recrimination.   He instructed his son to ensure that his general, Yoav ben Tseruyah, was held accountable for the deaths of Avner and Amasa, two potential rivals as well as Avshalom, “do not let his greying head go down to the grave in peace” and reserve a similar fate for Shimi ben Gera the Benjamite who cursed him when he was fleeing Avshalom.  After asking Solomon to show kindness to the children of Barzilai, who acted favourably to him in this flight, his last words before he died, were “And now, do not consider him [i.e Shimi] innocent, for you are a wise man, and you will know how to deal with him, and you bring down his grey head to the grave in blood.”

These are clearly not the words of a man at peace with himself.

However, in death, their legacy is intact.

Jacob and David’s passings are described thus:

‘When Jacob finished his instructions to his sons, he drew his feet into the bed and he expired and he was gathered to his kin.’ (Bereshit 49.33)

‘And then David slept with his fathers and was buried in the City of David.’ (Kings I.  2.10)

Both Yaakov and David’s lives were shaped by the relationships they had with their children.  Families are complex entities that can impact us in ways that we could not predict.  This does not mean that we should ever compromise on what we believe in.  Each of us has a legacy to leave to our loved ones, be it our children or the friends that we consider to be like brethren.

The values that we cherish are those that need to be passed on to ensure that future generations continue to bear the moral compass we hold so dear.  In their own ways, Yaakov Avinu and David Hamelech accomplished the same thing, albeit in very different circumstances.

It is due to their actions that we are here today, as proud bearers of the religion that they forged and which was built upon by later generations.  We proclaim David to be ‘Melech Yisrael’ – the King of Israel who is alive and enduring (‘chai chai vekayom’) and Yaakov’s name, Israel is hardwired into our DNA.

Please Gd, it will be a long time until we find ourselves in the same position described in this week’s Parasha and Haftara, but if we have established a lasting legacy and are able to continue transmitting our values, we too will live forever in the hearts and minds of future generations.

Shavuah Tov.

Parashat Vayigash: Joseph - The Better Man

Shloimy Cohen was a Haredi man who spent his life living a very observant life. He had a long beard, wore a big black Borsalino hat and dressed in a smart Saville Row, Shatnez- tested suit. He attended shul twice (and sometimes) three times a day, kept Glatt kosher and was the respected elder of his community.

However, when Shlomy celebrated his 70^th birthday, he decided that, although he’d been a devout Jew all his life, he wanted to have ‘some fun’ as he put it to his friends.

The beard came off, as did the hat (and the kippah) along with the suit. He now walked around Golders Green wearing a fashionable ‘The North Face’ jacket, Levis and trainers. He also sold his Toyota Previa and bought a Porsche 911 which he would drive up and down the M1 at a raging 100 mph.

One night as he was hurtling down towards Junction 1 in the pouring rain, he skidded and crashed into a concrete barrier. He was killed on impact.

In heaven, Shloimy walked angrily into Gan Eden. As he entered, he shouted out:

“Hakadosh Baruch Hu! I nearly spent my entire life dedicated to Your Service. From the moment I woke up in the morning until the minute my head hit the pillow, I dedicated my every thought and action to you. I know that I’ve slipped up recently, but did you really have to do this to me?”

A heavenly voice came back, full of concern:

“Shloimy, Shloimy is that you? Oy vey! I didn’t recognise you!”

Last week, we read that Joseph, the Viceroy of Egypt met with his brothers when they first came down to the country in search of food. The Torah tells us that he ‘recognised them, but they didn’t recognize him’ (Bereshit 42.9)

I have always been puzzled by this verse and assumed that it was the case because he must have been wearing some sort of mask. Surely, they would have known what he looked and sounded like?

Let’s hold that thought for a moment.

Earlier this week, Stephnie and I went to see a fascinating film called ‘Better Man’ which is an arresting biography of the pop singer Robbie Williams. Where this ‘biopic’ really stands out is that although it portrays his life in the well-worn and familiar chronological fashion, it does this in a truly original manner as Robbie appears throughout proceedings in the form of a chimpanzee (even though the eyes are his as they were digitally scanned and added in by the Director.)

To be honest, when I first saw the trailers, I wasn’t particularly impressed. He’s a few years younger than me and I’ve always enjoyed and respected his prodigious output. He’s a genuinely talented singer but as a chimp? Hmmm.

We thought we’d give it a try and came out truly bowled over. It’s an excellent film and although on paper, it sounds weird (and it is!), after a few minutes, you realise that it doesn’t matter what Robbie looks like, since, as you are hearing his narration and singing voice, you just accept the chimp as being Robbie Williams. The actor who plays him is superb and the CGI which renders him into a living, breathing monkey is remarkable. If you close your eyes and listen to the soundtrack, you wouldn’t know that the main character is anything but the man himself.

Back to Joseph and my assumptions that he must have hidden his face from his brothers.    This wasn’t the case at all. Rashi tells us that the reason they didn’t realise that this high official to whom they had just bowed (just like in the predictive dream) was not their brother was because he was now sporting a beard.

I’ve grown a beard in the past and no-one has ever failed to recognise me. There must be something more. Chizkuni (Rabbi Chizkiyahu Ben Manoach) the 13^th Century French commentator explains that, in addition to his facial hair, he was now known by his Egyptian name of Tzafenat Pane’ach and he spoke Egyptian, professing not to understand Hebrew.

Add to that the garments of finest linen, gold chain that adorned his neck and signet ring that was given to him by Pharaoh himself (Bereshit 41. 42-43). Joseph didn’t need to wear a mask because to the brothers, the man standing in front of them did not at all resemble the spoiled teenager they had cast into a pit many years previously.

In other words, Tzafenat Pane’ach could never be the same person as Joseph because, in the brothers’ opinion and worldview, they could not conceive that these two men were identical beyond their outer appearance. When Joseph reveals who he is to his brothers in this week’s Parasha, the Torah tells us that ‘his brothers were so bewildered at his presence that they could not answer him.’ (Bereshit 45.3)

For historical reasons, Robbie Williams has used a metaphor of a chimpanzee as his alter-ego. He even wrote a song in 2002 called “Me and My Monkey” describing his struggle with cocaine abuse and how he thought of himself as a monkey during his addiction. It’s a discussion that goes beyond the scope of this Drasha.

Nevertheless, Robbie chose to use this device in the film and we, the audience, as I wrote are aware of who the monkey really is. However, let’s say I sat in the cinema and that the last time I had seen Robbie was as a teenager in my local supermarket in Stoke-on-Trent buying cigarettes and alcohol. Since then, I had never heard his music or knew anything about him. I turn up to see a film about a chimp singing songs I don’t recognise. Would I know that this was the same person?

To a certain extent, we all wear ‘masks’ in our lives even though we don’t hide our faces.  

My students and the members of the congregations I lead view me very differently. My family and friends see another version of ‘Claude’ and when I bump into my own teachers (there are still a few around!), they sometimes struggle to recognize me. Not necessarily because I have changed but because I am different to the way they remember me.

It's all about perception and the way we think we know people. Strip away our external superficial layer and we are all the same underneath. Despite the despicable action that they did in selling their brother, we know that they were all great men. Joseph taught them a lesson and made them realise and face the enormity of their mistake.

When Judah, the brother who had initiated the plan to sell Joseph, pleads on behalf of Benjamin and offers himself up as a slave in his stead, Tzafenat Pane’ach, reverts to form and reveals his identity. The brothers’ reaction is as much a reflection of their own shame as the realisation that, as per the famous lyric, ‘Joseph who you thought was dead, your brother, It's me.’ It's a startling and moving moment, both for them and us.

The Torah’s message is profound. To truly know and understand a fellow human-being, look beyond the external features and the designer clothes. It’s not about the amazing cars we drive or the beautiful houses we inhabit. Yes, they’re impressive and they look fabulous. However, what matters is whom we are and the role we play in society.

The realistic looking monkey suit may be fun to wear on Purim, but it is the Mishloach Manot and Matanot Le’evyonim (gifts to the poor) that really demonstrate the true nature of the festival.  We are all ‘better men’ and women when we show our true colours. The ones that shine through the ‘masks’ that we sometimes use to hide the genuine beauty that lies within each of us.

Shavuah Tov. 

Parashat Vayeishev: Prisoners of Zion

The stage is dark aside from a lone spotlight directed, laser-like, upon the crouching figure sitting on the floor.  He starts to sing slowly and sadly:

“Close every door to me,

Hide all the world from me,

Bar all the windows

And shut out the light...”

We are, of course in ‘Joseph’ territory and the protagonist has just been flung into an Egyptian prison cell having been falsely accused of behaving in an ungentlemanly manner (to say the least) by the evil Mrs Potiphar.

For a moment, before the exuberance of the ‘Go Go Go Joseph’ production number kicks in, we are all there, empathising with the man who reassures us that we ‘Children of Israel are never alone’, wondering if he’s right and whether, granted recent history, we are indeed alone - especially if you’re trapped in a Gazan tunnel.

Indeed, being an imprisoned Jew is not a new phenomenon.  Not in the least.

Earlier this week, I accompanied Year 7 students on a trip to the Tower of London and discovered that Joseph’s experiences were not unique.  In fact, they were a precursor to some very interesting stories which were particularly relevant to this week’s Parasha of Vayeishev which describes Joseph’s sale and transportation to Egypt leading to the infamous ‘Potiphar’ episode.

A charity called ‘Historical Royal Palaces’ was established by the Government in 1989 as an agency that would care for the Tower of London, Hampton Court Palace, Banqueting House, Kensington Palace and Kew Palace.  As part of their mission, they have carried out extensive and comprehensive research projects into the historical aspects of the respective palaces, one of which explored the connection between the Tower and the Medieval Jews that lived in England until the expulsion in 1290.

You can read a brief outline at this link.

As part of their research, they have provided a dataset that you can download from the site.  This is the introduction:

‘Jews first settled in medieval England sometime after the Norman Conquest and remained here until they were forced to convert or go into exile by Edward I in 1290.  During this time, they and their possessions were considered the property of the king, which allowed him to exploit them economically through heavy taxation but also led royal officials to protect them during outbreaks of anti-Jewish violence.

From 1189, we find evidence of a link between the Tower and England’s Jews.  This relationship was eventually formalised in the thirteenth century, with the Constable of the Tower having authority over the Jews of London and even the power to arrest Jews anywhere in the kingdom.  The Tower became a place both of imprisonment and refuge for London’s Jews.  In 1267, during a baronial attack upon the city, many Jews hid in the Tower and were even given a section of the wall to defend.  Eleven years later, 600 Jews were then held prisoner in the same castle that they had helped to protect.’

The rest of the document provides 236 biographical details of every Jewish person or group of Jewish people who were known to have been at the Tower from the time the community arrived in England until the expulsion.  It makes for fascinating reading.

Individuals like Isaac of Norwich, a wealthy moneylender, who ‘In April 1210, was imprisoned at Bristol, along with many other Jews, on the orders of King John.  Their debts and tallies were recorded to determine their wealth for a tallage that was imposed upon them in November.  He was transferred to the Tower in 1213 and was saved from execution by agreeing to a fine of 10,000 marks (£6,666 13s 4d), to be paid at the rate of one mark per day and his grandson, also called Isaac of Norwich, was held at the Tower in 1253.’

‘Vives who along with his wife Bella, Isaac and his wife Anna, Abigail the Jew, and Aaron were all arrested on charges of coin-clipping and stealing clothes.  In March 1230, they were sent by the Sheriff of Shropshire to the Tower of London, and the Constable was ordered to hold them there until the justiciar Stephen de Sedgrave visited London to hear the case.’

‘Dyay who was one of several Jews from Norwich accused of circumcising a Christian boy and attempting to convert him to Judaism.  He was executed by 1241 for his part in the supposed event.’

‘Elias son of Vives was imprisoned in the Tower From November 1234 to November 1235, possibly until 1241.  He too was accused of the same crime as Dyay and although his fate is unknown, it is most probable that he was either executed or died in prison.

Like Joseph before them, the Jews of England experienced mixed fortunes in the Tower. 

One of the most interesting examples revolves around the case of Jurnet, son of Abraham who started off as a prisoner and ended up working at the Tower!  In 1273, he was held at the Tower for a debt of 12 marks he owed the king as well as some other misdemeanours.  He was bailed and granted a royal pardon.  However, he was in trouble again in June 1279 on a charge of taunting and beating a man but this was not proven.  Two years later, there is a single reference to Jurnet being a ‘sergeant of the Tower of London’.  This related to a protracted case brought against him by the Bailiff of Southwark which ended in the latter being imprisoned as a result the ruling in Jurnet’s favour.  It is not known the duties that were assigned to Jurnet but one of them seems to have centred around his responsibility for carrying the bodies of deceased Jewish people through the streets of London to their burial.  He may even have been in situ until 1280, a mere decade before the expulsion.

In a similar vein, the Torah tells us that Joseph was thought of in such a high manner, that the Captain of the Guard assigned him to look after the butler and baker.                                      As they say, “You can’t keep a good man down!”

The experiences of Joseph and the cases I have cited in reference to the Tower, demonstrate how challenging our history has always been.  Many of our most prominent brethren were imprisoned, including the sixth Lubavitcher Rebbe, Rabbi Yosef Yitzchak Schneerson and of course refuseniks like Natan Sharansky and Ida Nudel.  Despite the hardships they faced, they refused to abandon their faith and, in many cases, earned the respect of the captors because of their unbending belief in Gd and the Torah.

As Jews we, like all other visitors, are now free to enter and leave the Tower of London without either requiring its protection or living in fear of being imprisoned (and possibly being executed) within its walls.  Sadly, the spectre of Jews being held under false pretences is still with us, as we saw recently in Iran where Arvin Ghahremani, a young Jewish man in his twenties, was executed in a blatantly antisemitic act.  We hope and pray that very soon, another set of ‘prison walls’ will crumble and our brethren will return to their families in Israel.

“For we know we shall find

Our own peace of mind

For we have been promised

A land of our own.”

Shavuah Tov.

Parashat Vayishlach: Syria

 One of my earliest memories takes me back to the evening when my parents and I were watching the small black and white television set in the living room.  The TV and radio were hidden behind a sliding door inside a cabinet that was topped with a record player.  They were all the rage in the Sixties.

It was early October 1973 and what we saw terrified us. 

Perched on the Golan, the IDF were in the early stages of trying to protect the country against the invading Syrians.  I cannot forget the look of fear on my parents’ faces as my mother carried me upstairs to bed. 

These recollections are seared into my memory.  I think it may be the first time I became aware of the precarious and often hostile relationship that has always existed between Syria and Israel.

The surprising turn of events that we’ve been witnessing in the same region this week, with the fall of the cruel Assad dynasty, have brought those thoughts to the forefront of my mind.

But this wasn’t always the case.  Syria’s geographical location also brought home its relevance to the very genesis (pun intended) of our faith.

The ancient city of Charan lay in the vast region of Aram Nahara’im.  It straddled the modern states of Turkey, Syria and Iraq.  It is from there that Avram (as he was then called) was told by Gd, at the start of Parashat Lech Lecha, to travel southwards through Syria into Canaan.

Decades later following the death of his beloved Sarah, he instructed his servant Eliezer to return to the region to find a wife for his son, Yitzchak, which we read about in great detail in Parashat Chayei Sarah.  He dutifully returned with Rivka.

Twenty years later, she gave birth to the twins, Yaakov and Eisav.  At the end of Parashat Toledot, she told the younger twin to escape back to Charan following the deception of his elderly father, to avoid being killed by a furious Eisav.  He did this in Parashat Vayetzei and in this week’s Parasha of Vayishlach, he returned via Syria to meet his brother and his entourage of four-hundred warriors, more than two decades later.

Our ancestors therefore travelled through the area in five of the twelve Parshiot that encompass Sefer Bereshit/Genesis!  It is the cradle in which their relationships are formed and developed.  From Avraham to his daughter-in-law (and great-niece), Rivka through to her own nieces, Rachel and Leah (otherwise known as Avraham’s great-great nieces.)

Rivka, Rachel and Leah were all born in the region of Aram Nahara’im and I would assume that this applied to their maidservants, Zilpah and Bilhah too.  As we know, all four gave birth to the twelve sons whose descendants became the twelve tribes of Israel.

In short, nearly half of Sefer Bereishit takes place in the area that is occupied by Syria and its neighbour to the north, Turkey although it is unclear as to the exact location of Charan (ie whether it was in northern Syria or southern Turkey).

The Golan Heights cover part of the ancient kingdom of Bashan which was ruled by Og.  He was the king who was defeated by the Bnei Yisrael not too long before they started the conquest of the land under Yehoshua.  In other words, Bashan occupied a large chunk of Syria and, according to Devarim 3.13, Joshua 13.29 and Chronicles I v.23, was settled by half of the tribe of Menashe.  Additionally, Chronicles I v.11 states that the tribe of Gad may have also had some territory there.  Alexander Jannaeus, the Hasmonean King of Judea ruled over Bashan from 84 to 81 BCE.  Herod too had dominion there some years later.

All the above serves to remind us of how important a role Syria has played in the history of our nation.  There was an ancient Jewish community in the country dating back to Roman times which once numbered 30,000 souls.  It was a place a refuge following the Spanish Inquisition but nearly all have left following decades of persecution.  As of 2024, it is estimated that only three Jews remain in the entire country (although that number could be 100 if you include those who have assimilated and/or converted.)

Our modern narrative understandably focuses on contemporary issues such as the plight of the refugees, the devastation caused by the civil war and the barbarism perpetrated over half a century by the two Assads (with the enthusiastic assistance of Iran and Hezbollah).  Not forgetting the destruction inflicted on Syria by Isis.  Lost in the mix is the extraordinary history that shaped the country and the cultural importance of ancient cities like Aleppo and Palmyra both of which have been reduced to rubble.

In 1973, I was terrified of what would happen to Israel if Syria was successful in its aims.  Now I despair for the country that has torn itself apart.  Where, sometimes, Jews and Arabs lived together peacefully.  It wasn’t always easy (particularly in the 19^th century at the time of the infamous ‘Damascus Affair’ blood libel) but this is not dissimilar to the way Jews fared in other Arab countries.  The experience of Jewish life in Arab lands has always been bittersweet.

In 2024, we are once again witnessing the sight of IDF soldiers on the Golan.  This time, the news reports are in colour and beamed across a variety of sophisticated media (although I do miss that old record player-tv combo).  As of the time of writing, it doesn’t appear as though there is an attempt to replay the events of October 1973 on the Golan Heights.  However, as we are all too aware, such a scenario did occur in a different October many years later, south-west of the Golan.

I hope that soon we will be able to envisage the rebirth of Syria as a country that respects all the residents of the region, whatever their religious beliefs or ethnic background.  In the days before modern methods of transport, our Biblical ancestors were able to travel freely in both directions unhindered by borders and persecution.  Avraham, Eliezer, Rivka and Yaakov demonstrated this.

The Torah also had its villains and Lavan, the wandering Aramean, was certainly one of them although at the end of last week’s Parasha, he was still willing to make peace with his nephew.  Let’s not forget though, that he then sent his seventeen-year-old son off to warn Eisav that his brother was returning (see Sefer Hayashar, a Midrash).  The region has always had its questionable characters!  I guess that ‘making peace’ means different things to different folks.

Judaism is a religion that never relinquishes the idea of ‘hope’.  Throughout our modern history, we have stood up and sung the Hatikvah irrespective of how bleak the future looked.  We have never lost hope that the situation will improve.  As the old Israeli saying goes – ‘yihiye beseder’ – it will be OK.

I think it’s time to extend that dream to the country where it all began because more than enough blood has been shed in Aram Naharai’m.

Wouldn’t it be wonderful to re-establish our ancient connection to that region but without echoes of the past?

Perhaps we’ll make ‘the call’ soon and, who knows, someone at the other end might pick up the receiver.  After all, could anyone have envisaged Jewish life blossoming in Dubai a decade ago?

Shavuah Tov

Parashat Lech Lecha: You're a Super Star!

 

Date:	4th September 1973
Class:	Reception
Age:	5 Years, 8 Months

 

 

“…he is eager to read and knows most of his letters…Claude is very imaginative in thought and expression and is very candid in views…he must learn to overcome the restless side of his nature and settle down in class.”

I guess some things haven’t changed although now I’m the one complaining about my students not settling down! Leafing through my primary school report (which at times made me cringe), the common theme that pervades throughout was my love of reading. The stories fed my imagination and caused my mind to stray at times when I should have been paying attention to important subjects like science and maths.

I was never that much into fiction and if you peruse my library, often, you’ll come across someone’s biography, for that is probably my favourite genre of book. It combines my love of history with a fascination in discovering what makes people ‘tick’. Most importantly, biographies nearly always include pictures. Who doesn’t enjoy looking at photographs of people at various stages of their lives?

Which is why the book I just finished reading has been so unusual. It wasn’t a biography as such, and it flipped the text/photo ratio significantly in the opposite direction. It is called “Unknown Universe: Secrets of the Cosmos from the James Webb Telescope” by Tom Kerss and it was published just over a month ago. It is also one of the most extraordinary books I have read in a very long time (and I read a lot!)

The James Webb Space Telescope (hereafter referred to as JWST) was designed as a successor to the phenomenal Hubble Space Telescope. Its origins stretch back to the late 1990s and is a collaboration between NASA, the European Space Agency and the Canadian Space Agency. It was launched on Christmas Day 2021 and now resides 1.5 million kilometres (which is nearly 10 million miles) from earth. It started sending back images in July 2022 and this book contains over 220 pages of high definition and dazzling photographs of deep space. Each coruscating star cluster, nebula, planet, galaxy accompanied by an unobtrusive box providing a clear explanation to a non-astronomer such as yours truly. When I describe the book as ‘extraordinary’, I’m not joking.

The night sky has long captivated me and if I had time, I would love to study astronomy, which is perhaps the reason why I find a pasuk/verse in this week’s Parasha so interesting:

Let’s set the scene.

Avram (soon to be renamed Avraham) Avinu has just been served bread and wine from Malkitzedek, the King Priest of Shalem (whom I referred to last week as being non-other than Shem, son of Noach) following his defeat of the four kings and rescue of his nephew, lot.

He is sitting in his tent when Gd comes to him in a vision to let him know that he will one day father an heir, something that Avraham can’t believe. The Torah tells us that Hashem then took Avraham outside and said:

“Look at the heavens and count the stars – if indeed you can count them…that is how your descendants will be.”

Rashi comments on this verse stating that a simple/peshat understanding is that he literally took him outside the tent and showed him the night sky to impress upon him how numerous his descendants would be. In other words, he looked up at the stars.

He quotes the Midrash which takes an even different point of view. As someone who had come from an idolatrous background, Avraham was well-versed in astrology and believed that the stars foretold that he was not destined to have a child. Gd was therefore telling him to set aside his heathen ways and believe in the power of the Almighty to give him an heir. The stars were therefore a visual astronomical (as opposed to astrological) metaphor.

However, there is third interpretation that I wish to highlight here. Rashi says that Gd took Avraham out into space to the point where he was looking down over the stars and what he would have no-doubt seen in this position was infinitely more spectacular than a ground-based view.

The number of stars that we can see with our naked eyes (if we ignore the effects of light pollution) are limited by the panorama above us. As we know, the images that we view are echoes of light that have travelled through space for millennia. Since the world was much younger in Avraham’s era and the universe was smaller than it is now, there would have been fewer stars in the Biblical sky than we could theoretically see in the 21^st century.

In 1929, Edwin Hubble, the famed astronomer observed that the ‘red shift of galaxies was directly proportional to the distance of the galaxy from earth. That meant that things farther from the earth were moving away faster. In other words, the universe must be expanding.’ (https://www.pbs.org/wgbh/aso/databank/entries/dp29hu.html#:~:text=Hubble's%20brilliant%20observation%20was%20that,announced%20his%20finding%20in%201929.)

The JWST has, in its first two years of operation already opened our eyes to the expanse of the universe. Each dot in a single image represents a galaxy, each of which holds an untold number of stars – far more than we can count. In other words, our forefather, according to Rashi’s explanation was a human JWST! Each direction he faced to look at the stars was equivalent to a page of the book and perhaps, now you can appreciate why I was so bowled over by what I was looking at.

All of this is all well and good, but Chazal ask a very good question. If we, Avraham’s descendants are compared to stars, to the extent that we can’t be counted as we are so numerous….why are there so few of us in proportion to the rest of the world?

They provide a beautiful answer. To Avraham Avinu, the idea of a single star, in the form of his heir was unimaginable. Could he have countered the idea that one day, his descendants would number in the millions? Would he believe that Jews figure amongst the brightest stars on this planet in virtually every sphere of life. From Nobel Prize Winning Scientists to media personalities, Supreme Court Justices to Astronauts.

We are Avraham’s Super Stars. We, by simply existing today, are G-d’s testament to the covenant He established with the very first Jew. Can one honestly count how many famous Jewish people positively impact the global society in which we reside? That is the vision that Avraham saw in the skies above Israel over three thousand years ago.

The JWST will no doubt provide us with many more incredible photographs over the next few decades. It will provide a galaxy of surprises and remind the rest of humanity of how little they know and how much they still have to learn about the solar system – and how little they know and have yet to learn about the Jewish stars that live amongst them on this tiny blue dot in the universe.

Shavuah Tov.

Parashat Noach: The Boat People

If you were to take a survey amongst Jewish people to gauge how they earned a living, I would guess that in a statistical sample of thirty individuals, you would expect to see the following categories included (in no specific order):

Medicine, Accountancy, Law, Teaching, Sales, IT, Driving a Cab, Engineering, Surveying, Banking/Finance and Media. 

I don’t imagine that being a Sea Captain would feature in the list (the Israeli Navy notwithstanding). 

Which reminds me of the following joke:

Harry Cohen is showing his elderly parents around his new yacht.  He dons a captain’s hat and pronounces:

“Look Mum, I’m a ship’s captain!”

His mother looks at him and replies tersely, “Harry, to me, you’re a ship’s captain.  To your father, you’re a ship’s captain but to a ship’s captain, you’re no ship’s captain!”

As you may be aware, although the Tanach is not exactly replete with examples of Jews and boats, a few notable exceptions stand out.  A few weeks ago, on Yom Kippur, we read about Jonah’s (ultimately futile) attempts to flee Gd by boarding a ship to Tarshish.

The second, possibly even more famous example, occurs in this week’s Parasha of Noach.  Noach was not Jewish but one of his sons, Shem was the progenitor of the Semitic nations and according to Chazal, he and Malkitzedek, the High Priest of Shalem – later Jerusalem, were one and the same. 

Gd tells Noach that he will destroy the earth which is filled with violence (which is a translation of the Hebrew word ‘Hamas’ – interpret this as you wish) and that he, Noach, is to build an ark of gopher wood.  The world’s first ship’s captain has a crew of eight, along with a cargo of animals, and they are escaping a world that is hell-bent on perpetrating evil.  Hence, the watery divine punishment.

This theme is echoed a few hundred years later when a different sort of passenger becomes the sole occupant of his own miniscule boat.  Escaping a murderous decree by Pharaoh to kill the Hebrew baby boys, Moshe’s basket floats amongst the bull rushes until he is rescued by none other than the evil king’s own daughter.  Both Shem and Moshe are saved by a ‘Tevah’ (the Torah uses the same word).  If you read the Hebrew carefully, you can see striking similarities in the descriptions of both arks.  In essence, each boat provided refuge to its occupants.  The vessels quite literally saved their lives.

A few weeks ago, a five-hundred-year-old mystery linking Jews to boats seems to have been solved.  Along with Shem and Moshe, the identity of a third sea-faring Semite (and not a few of his crew members) might have been revealed.

For as long as I can recall, my mother (of Blessed Memory) believed that Christopher Columbus was a member of our tribe.  She wasn’t the only one to do so and it appears that a forensic medical expert, at the University of Grenada, José Antonio Lorente, spent twenty-two years trying to discover the ethnic origins of the renowned explorer.  He extracted DNA from the remains of Columbus’s son Hernando Colón along with that of a distant cousin, Diego Colón and compared these with Columbus’s remains at the Cathedral of Seville.  His findings suggest (and this remains to be proven) that my mother and many others were correct in their assumption that one of history’s most famous captains, was a Sephardic Jew.  It is evident that amongst his crew of ninety sailing on the Niña, Pinta and Santa Maria were several Conversos (Jews who had been converted to Catholicism but practised their Judaism secretly) including his translator, Luis de Torres.  It was again a case of Jews using naval means to flee for their lives against the antisemitic Inquisition instituted by King Ferdinand and Queen Isabella.

Notwithstanding the current evidence regarding Columbus’s Jewish ancestry, I can’t help but consider the thematic links which connect Noach and Shem, Moshe and the crew of the three Spanish ships sailing away from Spain in that catastrophic year of 1492. 

In all three cases, albeit in differing circumstances, the evil machinations of human beings led to vulnerable people having to escape to save their lives using a particularly dangerous method of transport.  I know very little about sailing, but I have experienced what it feels like to be travelling on a surface that is anything but stable or predictable.  In a car, you can rely on a (usually smooth) road underneath.  An aeroplane is statistically one of the safest methods of transport and trains run on rails that run in continuous lines, even when they turn a corner.

Water, as we know, is very different.  On a boat, you are at the mercy of the environment and how it impacts the sea on which you are travelling.  It sometimes feels as though the water itself is your enemy, especially when it becomes ‘rough’.  You may feel that although the boat is providing protection from external threats, it can become as dangerous as the human elements you are trying to escape.

So, although we may not consider sailing as being a ‘Jewish thing’, it turns out that without boats, we may not be here today. 

At our Sederim, in ‘Vehi She’amda we talk about how ‘in every generation, there rose those who wished to destroy us, but Gd saved us from their hands’. 

How many of you are descendants of those who fled the Russian and Polish Pogroms and landed on these shores a few centuries ago?

During World War Two, the Danish Resistance Movement saved 7,220 of the country’s 7,800 Jews by ferrying them to neighbouring Sweden.  The Exodus 1947 brought Jews to Palestine (eventually) and the fact that I am here today is because my father and his parents were able to escape Belgium on ‘the Westernland’ in April 1940.  His life was saved through boarding a ship and arriving safely in New York.

We may not have captained those ships but without them, we could not have ended up being doctors, accountants, solicitors, teacher, salespeople, IT experts, cab drivers, engineers, surveyors, bankers or media stars. 

I know it’s hard to admit that we are not good at everything and perhaps, we will never be ship’s captains but I don’t think we’d be wrong admitting that, looking at our history, we are definitely ‘The Boat People’. 

Shavuah Tov.

5:2 (Yom Kippur Drasha)

Nothing really compares to seeing a famous person you’ve heard of in a theatre setting.

We experienced such an occasion at The Alban Arena in St. Albans on Wednesday evening, 6^th February 2019.  To a thunderous applause, we watched him walk or rather hobble onto the stage (he’d damaged his foot).  The next few hours flew by as he entertained and educated us in his inimitable and original manner.  It was a wonderful show.  Little did any of us know that just over five years later, his life would end in tragic circumstances at the early age of sixty-seven.

To be honest, I didn’t know a great deal about Dr Michael Mosley beyond the fact that Stephnie was familiar with his ideas and had his book, ‘The Fast Diet: The Secret of Intermittent Fasting – Lose Weight, Stay Healthy, Live Longer.’ in the pile on her bedside night-table.  Having read the tome and followed his advice, she had tried the diet and recommended the same to me.

I lasted a whole week and decided that it wasn’t ‘my thing’.

Nevertheless, when she bought tickets for us to see the show, I willingly obliged.  After all, who would turn down the chance to see this ‘legend’ live on stage?

I’ve been reflecting on Dr Mosley’s dieting advice over the last few days.

I do appreciate that the last thing you probably want to think about on a fast day is anything to do with food and apologise if I upset anyone…particularly on the Day of Atonement but please hear me out on this.

Dr Mosley’s theory has created quite a controversy amongst medical experts.  I don’t know enough about the science behind it to be able to comment either way regarding its effectiveness in a positive or negative manner on an individual’s health.

On the 5:2 or as it is more commonly known ‘Fast Diet’, you eat ‘normally’ (whatever that means) for five days of the week and eat considerably less or as it is termed ‘fast’ for the other two, consuming 500 to 600 calories per day.  You are not allowed to ‘fast’ for two days consecutively.

The reason I’m thinking about this ‘Fast Diet’ is the fact that this week has seen me, and many others take his advice rather more seriously than he had envisaged.  On Sunday, I fasted, and until 7pm ingested zero calories.  Today, I’m continuing the fast I began last night!  In other words, I have eaten for five days and am fasting for two.

I’d like to think that the good doctor might be quite proud of me, but I believe I would be doing him a disservice if I ended my sermon here.  Dr Mosley built his career on trying to improve the health of the nation but in the end, died in the most tragic of circumstances.  For someone who had prided himself on helping others to ‘find their way’ to better health, he literally lost his by taking the wrong path after leaving the Greek town of Pedi.  It was later discovered that he had passed away only 100 yards from a beach bar.  Achingly close but tragically, not nearby enough to be rescued.  That his four children had searched the area previously and might have been able to find him (even though it was probably too late), added to the poignancy of the situation.

Which brings me to this holy day when we are fasting (perhaps twice in a week) and considering our decisions and activities throughout the previous year.  Last September, when Yom Kippur ended and we felt relieved that it was ‘over for another year’, did we set out on a journey home from Shul with thoughts in our head about how we would make the most of the coming months?

Did we envisage that just over a year later, we too might have lost our way, maybe not literally, but figuratively?  The trips we planned to Israel may not take place.  The Sedarim we attended would feel like nothing we’d ever experienced before.  The streets we were used to walking along may suddenly appear unsafe and threatening.  Right now, our journey as Jews feels as precipitous as the one Dr Mosley undertook on 5^th June.

The roller-coaster we have all endured since Shmini Atzeret doesn’t seem to be ending and we are going around and around, wondering what lies beyond the next corner.

Which is why this Yom Kippur, of all the ones we have lived through, is so important.  It is our 5:2 day.

Five prayers spread over the entirety of Yom Kippur we spend in shul.  Last night we began our journey through the fast with the proclamation of Kol Nidre.  We liberated ourselves of the vows that we may have uttered over the last year.  What was done, was done.  This is a new year.  Last night was Part One.

Today, we are working our way through Part Two.

The Yizkor service binds our souls with those of our departed and much-loved relatives.  In unison, praying and hoping that this year, we will find our way home.

In all the day’s five tefillot, we beat our chests together as one nation, admitting that although we tried our best to be our best, we didn’t achieve as much as we thought we could have done last year.

We want to be the finest versions of ourselves that we can aspire to be.  To atone, not only for us but also for all those who are unable to reach a shul.  We are their emissaries and their mouthpiece to the King of Kings on this second part of our journey.  The one which will take us through to the final shofar blast this evening.

For those of our nation who are in hospital or bedridden at home.  For the hostages in Gaza, for the soldiers who can’t attend shul because they are risking their lives throughout the day and beyond to protect our holy country.

This is our 5:2 day – whichever way you feel it can be.

In memory of those who didn’t survive including the Kedoshim/holy souls who were murdered throughout the last year.  In remembering others, including Dr Mosley whose souls returned to their maker, we need to dedicate ourselves to using this day to pray for them and hope that in turn, they will intercede with Gd on our behalf.

May Hashem answer our prayers and help every one of us find the safest path to the ‘home’ we want to live in over the next year.

Today, on Yom Kippur, we are all observing the ‘Fast Diet’.  May it provide us with the spiritual and physical ‘nourishment’ we need to ensure that when Yom Kippur 5786 arrives, this troubled world in which we live will be a much more peaceful and safer home for all of us.

Amen.

Gmar Chatima Tovah.

Rosh Hashanah I: One People - One Heart

 It honestly seems like yesterday.

Last year, on 16^th September, the first day of Rosh Hashanah, I stood on this exact spot and towards the end of my sermon read the following words:
‘Today, I stand alongside you, sincerely hoping that your own year books will contain the best of everything that the forthcoming Jewish year (which contains 13 months) can provide us with.  We need the kind of days that brightened up my June and August so that we can appreciate how blessed we are to be alive, to have family and friends who love us and be in possession of the financial security to help us negotiate these difficult times.’

The ‘June’ I referred to was of course the wonderful day we spent together marking the Cheltenham Hebrew Congregation’s bicentennial.  The ‘August’ recalled the wedding of my eldest daughter, Hadassah.

Twenty-one days after I delivered that Sermon - on Shmini Atzeret - we know exactly what happened.

‘so that we can appreciate how blessed we are to be alive, to have family and friends who love us…’

How can anyone in Israel utter these words without breaking down, considering the blackest, bloodiest and bleakest day in the eighty years that have transpired since the end of the Shoah?  How can any Jewish person outside of the Land of Israel not wonder whether they too might have been one of the thousands killed or kidnapped?  Furthermore, even if they weren’t amongst the casualties, perhaps their child was fighting in Gaza or in the North.

Shortly, during the repetition of the Musaf Amida, we will recite one of the most stirring and, if I may add, terrifying prayers in the entire High Holidays liturgy:

'On Rosh Hashanah it is written and on Yom Kippur it is sealed:

how many will pass away and many will be born;

who will live and who will die;

who in his due time and who before;

who by water and who by fire;

who by sword and who by beast;

who of hunger and who of thirst…

…who by strangling and who by stoning…'

(taken from the Sacks Koren Rosh Hashanah Machzor page 568).

How many of the descriptions in the paragraph can we ascribe to the barbarity that was inflicted on our nation and others by a cruel, sadistic and savage enemy on 7th October?  How many relate to the treatment of the hostages – both those who were murdered or are still surviving in tunnels or cages that are hardly large enough to enable a human being to stand up properly?

My father passed away in July of last year just over a month before his 95th birthday.  There is not a day that goes by where I don’t miss him and wish he were still here but can I honestly claim that he died before his ‘due time’?

Can we say the same about Hersh (23), Eden (24), Ori (25), Almog (27), Alexander (33), Carmel (40), Jake (26) (my friend’s cousin and stepdaughter’s peer from JFS) who was a security guard at the Nova festival?  Did they die before their ‘due time’?

Seeing what happened to them and many of the others who attended the Nova festival on that day (including Hersh) in the unforgettable recent Israeli documentary aired on BBC 2 ‘Surviving October 7th: We Will Dance Again’ was horrific, shocking and heart-breaking.

How about the over 300 IDF soldiers killed in Gaza?  Some of them are around the same age as my children and stepchildren.  Did they too die before their time?

Nearly a year ago, Jo Woolfe started an initiative in her Hampstead Garden Suburb home.  Every week with a team of volunteers, she packs 2000 pairs of blue tea lights in pouches along with a photograph of a hostage containing their name and age, a prayer for their release and also for those who have been released.  She has taken them to shops and schools.  (https://www.thejc.com/community/one-womans-mission-to-keep-the-flame-alive-for-the-hostages-j29nx7c7).

Back in November, I picked up a pack which contained Hersh Goldberg-Polin’s name and adopted him as my ‘guest for shabbat’.  Every Friday night when I was in Staines, I laid the table for the two of us.  Hersh and I waited for him to be freed.

When the horrific news came through, I decided to continue the practice because I realised that, as per his mother Rachel’s heart-breaking hesped/eulogy at his gravesite, Hersh was now truly free and for the first time since his capture, could join me at my Shabbat table.

In Judaism, there is a concept called ‘kol Yisrael areivim ze la ze’.  It means that ‘every single Jew is responsible for every other Jew’.  Whether or not they want us to be and when we recite the prayer that I am referencing, we are relating it to each and every man, woman and child who has been impacted by the events that have shaped this past year.

And I believe it is this aspect of religion that has been a catalyst in determining the other side of the year.  I have lost count of the number of Psalms I have been reciting since October, both in a minyan or by myself.

Since the start of the war, we have witnessed some events that are so extraordinary that they defy rational explanation.  In April, Iran sent over 300 drones, missiles and other devices with the intention of causing as much carnage as they could to Israel.  The vast majority didn’t reach their destination as a troupe of Israeli, American, British, French and Jordanian (!) air forces knocked them out of the sky.  Yes, the Jordanian Air Force protected Israel.  Let’s just think about that for a moment and last Tuesday’s missile attack did not result in a single Israeli death.

The Israeli secret services comprising of the Mossad and Shin Bet managed to eliminate the head of Hamas in a room in Iran along with the top brass of Hezbollah Commanders in Lebanon and of course their evil leader.

A few hostages were rescued in some military operations that could have formed set-pieces in Hollywood action movies and as for the exploding pagers, walkie-talkies and solar panels…what can one say?

For me personally, the most powerful and positive memories I have of the post October 7th pogrom/massacre, focus on the unity that pervaded (sadly for too short a time) both and Israel and outside the country.  Where the slogan of ‘Am Yisrael Chai’ became our buzzword.  Predictably though, soon enough, our people reverted to recreate the divisions that we are all accustomed to. These have sadly returned.

Which brings me back to the prayer that I referenced at the start of this sermon.            I strongly believe that everything positive that has taken place has come about because of the unity we show when we pray together.  When we support each other emotionally.  When we support the State of Israel and its institutions financially.  When we unite to defend Israel and by extension the Jewish People against those who literally hate us and wish us death; those who march menacingly through our streets; threaten our university students both in the United States and the UK whilst the authorities stand by and do nothing.  Sometimes even joining their ranks.

The prayer ends with a formula that can bring about a reversal in our fortune.

'Uteshuva – Utefila – Utzedaka - Ma’avirin et Ro’ah Hagezeira'

'But repentance, prayer and giving to charity– avert the evil decree.'

Even in our darkest hour, we have not given up hope and there have been glimmers of light when we thought that all was lost.

This Rosh Hashana, we need to focus our every effort to effect change.  We have seen what can happen when we unite and use the weapons that have made up our spiritual arsenal for thousands of years, such as reciting Psalms.

It is never too late to give Tzedaka to Israeli charities that are literally providing a lifeline to our brothers and sisters across the Mediterranean Sea.

If we redouble our efforts to speak with one voice and become once again ‘am echad be’lev echad’ – ‘one people – one heart’ – as we witnessed at Sinai, this brand-new year of 5785 may end up being an opposite of its predecessor.

May Gd protect the State of Israel, the IDF and all Israeli security forces and may we see the return of the hostages very soon.  May He bring peace back to our beloved land and frustrate the plans of our enemies.

I couldn’t think of a more appropriate prayer on this Day of Judgement.

Shanah Tova Umetuka – may we all be blessed with a sweet year and a successful inscription in the Book of Life.