Rabbi Claude's Scribbles

Dedicated to Harav Yitzchak ben Shlomo Jacobs ztl - May his memory be a blessing. I have never experienced anything like it. Not only were we entirely enveloped in darkness, but the absence of any sort of light caused us to be rooted to the spot and too frightened to move.   There was a complete absence of light, the kind of which I had never experienced.   My daughters and I were visiting Chislehurst Caves and our guide had warned us that we were about to experience something unusual.   We switched off our torches and there we were standing in awe and fear,   excited at the thought of the situation we found ourselves in.   It was also very unnerving.   I remember trying to make sense of the moment and two thoughts came into my mind. Firstly, I was reminded of the plague of darkness that afflicted the Egyptians.       For three days it was so dark that they were unable to move from the spot.   I then recalled the first few pesukim/verses of Bereshit/Genesis:  

Genesis 32:25 Jacob was left alone and a man wrestled with him until the break of dawn. The distance between Belfast and Buenos Aires is just under seven thousand miles, yet, in the footballing world, it is around the corner. He was born on 25th May 1946 in Cregagh, East Belfast as the oldest child of Anne and Richard and within a generation, he would be hailed as one of the finest footballers on the planet. Fourteen years after his birth, on 30th October 1960, in Lanus, a province of Buenos Aires, Dalma and Chitoro welcomed their fifth child and first son to the world.   He too would eventually become known throughout the world and venerated as the greatest footballer of his generation. Both men would attain a place that is reserved for very few humans and tragically in both cases, would burn up when inevitably returning to earth. And in a chilling coincidence, both men would pass away at nearly the same age on the very same day, fifteen years apart. On 25th November

  In tribute to Moreinu Harav Yaakov Zvi ben David Arieh Sacks ztl I'm not one to blow my own trumpet but every now and again, a date comes along and makes me stop, think and consider its importance in my life.   Today (16 th November) was such a date because, until this nightfall, the 29th Cheshvan constituted the fortieth anniversary of the day that I became a man, on 8th November 1980.   The first day that I was eligible to be given my very first Aliyah and my opportunity to make up a minyan.   Forty years ago, yours truly became a 'Bar mitzvah Boy' on Shabbat 29th Cheshvan (which is quite wonderful, because I was born on a Friday night.) Two days earlier, I had been blessed to recite the first part of my Bar mitzvah Parsha of Toldot at the Kotel, the Western Wall.   It still ranks as one of the most memorable days in my life.   If anything, I appreciate it more now, than on that sunny November morning.   As my ceremony was two days early (due to it having to take pla

How can I accurately describe the emotions I am feeling about the loss of Rabbi Jonathan Sacks? The truth is that I cannot. I can only speak from my heart and at this moment, it is broken. It is shattered in a thousand pieces. It is aching and crying out into the night. I woke up this morning at 4.00 am, with Rabbi Sacks on my mind. In my thoughts. In my dreams. I thought about the impact he has had on me personally on a daily, weekly and monthly basis. From his green Siddur that helps me understand my prayers and his beautiful Machzorim that I use throughout the year, to the A3 binders that store every single ‘Covenant and Conversation’ Dvar Torah dating back to 2013. Each word therein is a pearl of wisdom. Each idea a world in itself. Each lesson a masterclass in erudition. Each and every week a gift from a thinker like no other. He is simply ubiquitous in my life. As I look around my study, my eyes fixate on my Semicha Certificate, the beautifully framed document that proves my vali

I decided to check the web's definition of '2020 vision' and the first result that came up could be found on the American Optometric Society's website: 20/20 vision is a term used to express normal visual acuity (the clarity or sharpness of vision) measured at a distance of 20 feet. If you have 20/20 vision, you can see clearly at 20 feet what should normally be seen at that distance. If you have 20/100 vision, it means that you must be as close as 20 feet to see what a person with normal vision can see at 100 feet.’ ( www.aoa.org ) Of course, the irony of the phrase lies in the fact that this year of 2020 has been anything but. I can't recall any period of time that has been so unfocused, unclear and shrouded in darkness. That we are entering another lockdown this week only serves to underscore the point. We have been told that it should end in a month, but how many of us really believe this to be the case? This week's Parsha of Vayera contains several examples