Rabbi Claude's Scribbles
These are the texts of the sermons (in Hebrew, known as 'Drashot') that I deliver to my community. I have also added extra writing and musings on a variety of subjects.
17 June 2026
My email to the NASUWT
14 June 2026
Parashat Shelach Lecha: We Have No Other Country
Then the Lord spoke to Moshe, “Send men to scout the land
of Canaan, which I am going to give to the Israelites, one man from each of their
ancestral tribes, each a leader among them.” So Moshe sent them at the Lord’s command from the
Wilderness of Paran. They were all leading
men among the Israelites. [Bamidbar 13.1-2]
There are
certain songs that transcend the moment and become much more in that they define
an era or take on a status beyond their original form.
One example
that comes to mind is Vera Lynn’s ‘We’ll Meet Again’. It has become synonymous with the Second World
War, particularly amongst veterans who fought and tragically lost their comrades
during the long and difficult campaigns across the globe.
In our Jewish
world, such a status has been bestowed on Yerushalayim Shel Zahav, the song written
before the Six Day War but which subsequently (and understandably) came to symbolise
the anthem of the reunification of Jerusalem fifty-nine years ago, in tandem
with our nation’s four-thousand-year connection to the holy city.
There is another
less well-known song that I (and many others) would confer a similar status, particularly
in the years following the massacre of 7th October 2023.
It is called
‘Ein Li Eretz Acheret’ translated as ‘I Have No Other Country’ and it was written
in 1982 with words composed by one of Israel’s most respected lyricists, Ehud Manor
(d. 2005) and melody by Corinne Allal (d. 2024.)
Gali Atari,
a popular singer recorded the song.
She had gained fame as the main vocalist in the group ‘Milk and Honey’ who famously won the Eurovision Song Contest in 1979 in Jerusalem with ‘Halleluyah’.
The (abridged)
lyrics are translated thus:
I have no other
country
even if my land
is aflame
Just a word in
Hebrew
pierces my veins
and my soul -
With a painful
body, with a hungry heart,
Here is my home.
I will not stay
silent
because my country
has changed her face
I will not give
up reminding her
And sing in her
ears
until she will
open her eyes
I have no other
country
until she will
renew her glorious days
Until she will
open her eyes
With a painful body, with a hungry
heart,
Here is my home.
Ehud Manor
wrote the song in memory of his late younger brother, Yehuda who had been killed
in a tank battle against Egypt during the War of Attrition in 1968. When Gali Atari sang it on her album, ‘Emtza September/Mid
September’ in 1986, Israel was deeply divided in the midst of the First Lebanon
War and this became its rallying cry and the era’s defining protest song.
A decade later,
following the assassination of Yitzchak Rabin, she re-recorded the song for a tribute
album by the cream of Israel’s popular artists, called ‘Shalom Chaver/Goodbye My
Friend’ (recalling President Clinton’s famous greeting to his close friend at Rabin’s
funeral) which came out shortly after the tragedy - one that almost led to a civil
war.
It has been
voted by the Israeli public as being Ehud Manor’s greatest composition.
More recently,
it was the anthem sung by protestors for and against the Israeli Government’s
controversial plans for Judicial Reform.
Once again, a country riven by different factions.
And then the
‘7th October’ happened.
What makes
the song so special is that it speaks to all lovers of Israel. Everyone who considers themselves to be a Zionist,
irrespective of their social status, nationality, religious belief or political
leaning. At the heart of the song is the
title, ‘Ein Li Eretz Acheret – I have no other country’.
This is it.
I can be British,
American, French or Australian but at the end of the day, the only country that
I can truly call my own is Israel. It’s the
one place that the authorities cannot expel me from. They cannot accuse me of having dual loyalties
or acting in a subversive manner or throwing any other antisemitic tropes in my
direction.
A single word
in Hebrew pierces my veins and my soul.
Here and only here is my home.
They were
not simple men. Each was a leader among them. They were all leading men amongst the Israelites.
So how could
ten out of the twelve get it so wrong? How
could they come back and speak Lashon Hara, the worst kind of slander, regarding
the land that Gd had promised to us through our patriarchs, Avraham, Yitzchak and
Yaakov? How could they?
And how can
our fellow Jews, following the worst massacre since the Shoah, when Israel is under
constant attack from nation after nation, do the same in the present day?
No-one who
loves and cares about Israel should stay silent when her citizens act in a reckless
and immoral manner.
·
An Israeli politician’s atrocious behaviour against the
activists on the Flotilla must be condemned in the strongest language.
·
Settlers who violently assault and, in some cases, kill
Palestinians or damage or destroy their property must face the strongest remedy
under Israeli law, the least of which should be a lengthy custodial sentence.
· Any member of Israeli society that disgraces the country and by extension the Jewish people, causing a Chillul Hashem, needs to be censured and punished.
How could
they, the greatest men of their age get it so wrong? How can those people I have referred to, act against
G-d, the Torah and the land He gave us in perpetuity. Nothing in our religion sanctions such behaviour
and I will argue this to the nth degree. This is not the Judaism that I (and many of our
co-religionists) want to have any part of.
They are not
you and they are not me.
You may not
like policies enacted by the current government of Israel, you may not even agree
with the way the war has been conducted in all its theatres but how can anyone,
who claims to be a lover of Zion, publicly give ammunition to our enemies so that
they use it against us?
I will not stay
silent because my country has changed her face.
I will not give
up reminding her
And sing in her
ears
Until she opens up her eyes.
Earlier this
month, Stephnie and I visited the Nova Exhibition which was a harrowing experience.
Later that
day, we had two speakers at our shul in Bushey.
One, Almog Meir Jan was one of the hostages who was rescued from Gaza by
the IDF and Yamam (the elite, national counterterrorism and hostage-rescue unit
operating under Israel’s Border Police) on 8th June 2024 after eight
months in captivity. The chief Inspector,
Arnon Zamora was killed leading the operation.
The other
speaker was Ben Ladany, a soldier in a canine unit who was shot seven times during
Operation Iron Sword in November 2023. He
suffered grievous injuries and was placed in an induced coma for several months
but unfortunately his dog, Jack, was killed in the operation.
One of our
members asked Ben how Israel, which had constructed the world’s most expensive and
sophisticated hi-tech security barrier, could have fallen prey to the horrific events
that transpired on that day in October.
He replied that because the Israelis were split over the reforms and disunited as a result, our enemies took advantage of this division. This reminded me of how my father zl used to say that internal discord amongst the Jews was much more of a threat to the State of Israel than anything that our adversaries could envisage. As we found out, he wasn’t wrong.
Those leaders
in the desert, and their descendants in the land they reported on, forgot that that
they, and we, only have no other country.
That’s it. Warts and all, Israel is our one and only chance
to live freely as Jews, irrespective of what kind of Jews we think we are. Just because they were the leaders of their tribes
didn’t give them the authority to speak ill of the land.
For whatever
justified reason (and our Sages state many), they erred and the catastrophic result
led to a further thirty-eight years of wandering in the desert and the deaths of
thousands of people, most of whom should have entered the Promised Land a few weeks
later.
When we, the
Jewish people, criticise Israel, we betray the gift that has been given to us by
Gd. It is for this reason (and many more)
that I have changed my status on social media so that it reflects my lifelong mission
to be a ‘Rabbi, Zionist, Activist for the Jewish People and Israel’. I will
not be silent.
I and we
have no other country and until she will renew her glorious days and
until she will open her eyes, with a painful
body and with a hungry heart.
We will believe steadfast that, despite everything that happens to her, good
or bad, here and only here - is our Jewish home.
Am Yisrael Chai
and Shavuah Tov.
31 May 2026
Parashat Naso: The Gift of Giving
It could have been a very different story.
A few months
ago, I wanted to access a video recording of a talk that was given back in 2008. I casually popped the DVD into my laptop’s player
and to my dismay, it refused to recognise the disc. Not one to be easily deterred, I tried to get
it to perform on other devices but they too declined to comply with my instructions.
What to do, what to do, what to do?
The outlook was decidedly blue.
It was decidedly
a very foggy day in
Bushey Town (with apologies to Ira Gershwin).
I spoke to
a friend who suggested a contact who runs a ‘vintage video film and audio transfer
service’ (as he describes his business on LinkedIn) and crucially lives nearby. As it happened, I also came across an old Camcorder
tape which held the original recording. Eureka!
Problem solved.
Except it
wasn’t, as the Camcorder refused to play the tape.
I phoned my
friend’s friend, whom I shall refer to as ‘H’ and he happily agreed to take on the
work. A quick car journey and two tapes (I
found a second one with the first) handed over for digital transfer. In a jiffy, I was sent a link to download the
footage onto my laptop. Job done.
And then (speaking
in a Jeremy Clarkson type voice), I had an idea!
Sitting in
a box in my garage were a bunch of old cine films that belonged to my parents. When I was a child, one of THE most wonderful
things my mother did, was to get my dad to put up the portable screen in the living
room, close the heavy gold-coloured curtains, set up the vintage reel-to-reel projector,
switch off the lights and spend the evening screening old silent films that either
she or my grandfather had shot (he loved filming and was able to afford colour film),
stretching back to pre-war Belgium when she and her brother were little children.
If you are
curious to know where my love of movies comes from, it probably originates from
those lovely soirees with the three of us and my mother providing a detailed commentary
to the grainy images appearing on the screen.
Who could
have guessed what would transpire just a few months later?
Several years
ago, I purchased some decent video-editing software which allows me to delve into
the files and trim them thus creating mini films of selected material. As my mother filmed so much footage, I have numerous
scenes with family and friends in beautifully restored colour (H cleaned the tapes
up during the digitization process). I have
sent these files to the people who were the subjects. As you can imagine, very few folk will object
to seeing themselves as babies (in the case of my family and friends - my daughters
were thrilled to see themselves as toddlers) or significantly younger versions of
themselves! In return, I have received some
wonderful comments from the recipients.
In this week’s
Parasha, the longest single sidra in the entire Torah, we read a lengthy passage
which describes the bountiful and identical gifts brought by the princes of each
tribe to the Mishkan/Tabernacle. The reading
describes a joy that is almost palpable.
It is one that we can understand because when we give a gift, we receive
so much more in return and that’s why it is as much a skill to know how to receive
as it is to give in the first place.
It’s not difficult
to give someone a present (the challenging part is often to know what to choose
in the first place) but when we receive it, do we react in a way that rewards the
person who has given us the gift? Are we
appreciative or gracious enough and how often are we mindful of the other person’s
feelings when they have given of themselves?
It dawned
on me when editing and creating the individual files how some of the recipients
might not be comfortable seeing relatives that are no longer with us. Watching my late parents is a bittersweet experience
but, at least for me, there is something really comforting knowing that, with the
click of a button, my darling mother and father are ‘alive’ again. Young, silent yet animated and happy in the moment. Unaware of what might (and did) lie ahead in their
lives. Each frame is a snapshot, a slice,
an instant when they didn’t worry about the future. When the camera did what it should be doing, they
were there – in the moment – frozen in time, happy to be alive.
The tribes
of Israel were about to experience the repercussions of the failed mission of the
spies and a future that would find them wandering the deserts of the Middle East
for four decades. However, at that moment,
before everything else, they basked in the joy of bringing the gifts to the Mishkan
and in return, celebrating the events which lasted for nearly a fortnight. It is not by accident that these readings are
also repeated over the entirety of Chanukah, since they were dedicating (Chanukat)
the Tabernacle.
One of the
fundamental mitzvot that is incumbent on all of us is to give charity or as we call
it, Tzedaka. The root of this word is Tzedek
which means justice. When we give tzedakah,
we are elevating the act of giving to a higher plane. In doing so, we not only raise the financial status
of the recipient, but we are also, at the same time, rewarded with the mitzvah/commandment
of giving Tzedaka (which is mandated in the Torah). In other words, we are creating a just
society which provides an equivalence between the benefactor and the recipient.
In Parashat
Re’eh (Devarim 15.7-8), we are instructed to do the following:
“If there be a poor person among your kinsfolk in any of
your towns in the land that the L-rd your Gd is giving you do not harden your heart
or close your hand towards your brother in need. Open your hand generously and freely lend him
enough to answer all his needs.
The Talmud
tells us:
"The poor man does more for the
giver than the giver does for the poor man."
[Ta'anit 10b / Leviticus Rabbah 34:10]
and as Rabbi
Sacks ztl put it so beautifully:
“The paradox of giving is that when
we lift something to give to another, it is we ourselves who are lifted. I believe that what elevates us in life is not
what we receive but what we give." [ https://rabbisacks.org/quotes/the-paradox-of-giving]
I began this
Drasha with the following sentence:
‘It could
have been a very different story.’
If the DVD
had worked in the first place, I wouldn’t have needed to look for the source and
take myself on a personal journey that led to my uncovering a treasure trove of
reminiscences. It was a walk down ‘memory
lane’ which I began on my own and have now been accompanied by all the people who
received their freshly minted digital time machines.
Enjoy that
moment for as long as you can, irrespective of what might transpire in the future
for it is the fire that will burn brightly and light up even the darkest of future
nights.
Happy giving
and Shavuah Tov!
My email to the NASUWT
Dear Sir/Madam I am writing to formally give notice of my immediate resignation as a member of the NASUWT. One of the reasons I joined the u...
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“My heart cries out for love and all that goes with loving, Love in song, Love in song” Paul McCartney and Wings, from the ‘Venus ...
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It was, until I landed there on Thursday, 10th April 2025, a country that I had seen from the air close to a hundred times (although Stephni...
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All good things have to end eventually and this morning saw us meeting for the last time as a group. Our guest today was a Middle East journ...


