Parshat Devarim (Chazon): Euro Spies

I am not a football fan.

However, in my line of work, when the students enquire as to which team you support, one must respond.  With this in mind, I decided to go with Tottenham.  I like the team strip (Zionistic blue and white, how can you beat that?) and the fact that I visited White Hart Lane a few years ago for a school training course.  By the way, they had a great hospitality suite.

To compound my admiration for the team, my step-daughter's husband, A (I can't really call him my step-son-in-law as it's too much of a mouthful) is a seriously committed Arsenal fan.  Season ticket holder.  The lot.  It makes for good conversation, even though the only player I've heard of is Harry Kane and apparently, he wants to leave!  I have no idea what position they ended up in the league last season, but I do remember the so-called Glory Days of the 1980s when 'we' had players like Lineker and Klinsmann.

Because he takes it all so seriously and gets depressed when 'we' beat his team (it happens occasionally), I enjoy the banter.  The North London Derby means very little to me.  Not so to him.

My daughter, T, has experienced quite a summer in the football stakes.  She works as an usher at Wembley Stadium and has been present for all the major matches, including the European Cup final that took place on Sunday.  It is an event that she won't forget but unfortunately, not for the right reasons because the behaviour she saw from some fans shocked and disgusted her. 

Over the years, although not a football fan, I have invested time in watching England play during the two international major tournaments.  It has always ended up in witnessing a group of young (and not so young) hopefuls experiencing the desolation of being beaten and having to leave the competition.  But that's whole point of the exercise.  In every game, there will always be winners and losers.  The victorious team goes through to the next round or, as in last Sunday's Final, wins the cup.  Their fellow countrymen celebrate whilst those of the other squad console themselves but inevitably look forward to the next encounter.  Time is the healer.

What made this year's competition different was that for once, England made it through to the Final.  Because football seems to be the nearest spiritual (both figuratively and literally) experience that most England's citizens seem to feel, there was a rare coming together of people from all strata, irrespective of their colour, creed, gender, faith or political belief.  Football, the 'Beautiful Game' entered the national zeitgeist. 

It was, for a few weeks, ubiquitous. 

Can you imagine what it must have been like to be sent on such a mission?

The twelve lucky men, leaders of their tribes had been instructed to scout out the Land of Canaan and bring back a report.  It was the second year after the Exodus and the Israelites were on the cusp of entering the 'Promised Land'.  They could have easily conquered it within weeks led by the leaders of their generation, Moses, Aaron and Miriam. 

But we know what happened and how they failed, aside from Joshua and Caleb. 

They really messed it up and this week's Parsha reminds us of this everlasting stain on our nation.  When they returned and submitted their verbal report, the result led to a night of wailing and mourning whose anniversary we will commemorate this evening, with the exit of Shabbat and entrance of Tisha B'Av, the Ninth of Av - a day whose bloodied history is ingrained into our collective memory.  Before the outbreak of WW1, before the Inquisition, before the expulsion of this countries' Jews, before the destruction of both Temples, before all this, this evening saw, over three thousand, three hundred years ago, a nation that cried bitterly for no reason.

In both situations, the reaction by some fans to the loss of the game and the actions of ten men who should have known better, led to the destruction of something that is so precious, namely idealism.

I know I speak for you when I describe the anger and bitter disappointment I felt as I heard about the racist behaviour of a vocal minority of fans towards three black members of the English Squad.  I know I speak for you, when I describe how appalled I was by the hordes of thuggish fans who stormed the ticket barriers and put their lives and those of the people, like my daughter, who could have been located there, into danger.  The 'Beautiful Game' was anything but.

I guess that, in linking both events and their protagonists, I despair in the selfish behaviour of the few, which resulted in bursting an ethereal bubble, which both represented the very best in British Spirit and at the same time could have changed Jewish history (and made the Torah considerably shorter!)

Has humanity learned nothing?

And that's where, for me, these Three Weeks and their culmination in the Fast of Tisha B'Av really resonate.

It may be difficult to really appreciate what the destruction of both Temples meant to the course of our collective history, which is why the Fast has understandably shifted its focus (beyond the scriptural readings, such as the Book of Eichah and Kinnot) in recent years to the Shoah.  It isn’t, however, hard to understand that this period is much more than that.  If the lack of sensitivity exhibited by one human being to others, whether in the wake of the Final or, as a result of the spies' report, culminated in the hurt caused in both events, then we have much to learn, as citizens of the world, with regard to the societies that we inhabit.

I cannot alter the conduct of the spies any more than I can stop a football fan from hurling himself through a barrier or spewing out electronic insults through an internet connection.  What I can do is to dare to dream that the idealism envisaged by others is never out of place.  Tisha B'Av teaches us that, despite the odds, there is always hope that we can overcome.

There is an apocryphal story told of Napoleon Bonaparte who was going past a Shul in a small Jewish town in Europe on Tisha B'av.  He entered the Shul and saw the Jews seated on small stools on the floor, holding candles and prayer books.  There was an impressive chandelier with only a few lit candles.  The atmosphere was dark and gloomy.  When he enquired as to the misfortune for which the Jews were mourning, a Jewish French Officer explained that nothing terrible had happened recently but that this very day was Tisha B'Av and that the people had been mourning the Temple’s destruction for two millennia.  Napoleon famously replied:

"A nation that cries and fasts for over 2,000 years for their land and Temple will surely be rewarded with their Temple."

Perhaps those football fans could learn something from our modestly sized nation.  The spies sinned and the people were punished but their descendants have not forgotten what we lost and what could have been.  Had we acted differently, the Temples would not have been destroyed and we would not have endured a crushing exile that exists to this day.  We may have lost the idealism that propelled us out of Egypt, but we always found our way back home.

It is a lesson that our fellow citizens could take upon themselves.  The Squad lost the match and the Tournament, but that wasn't the point.  Just as we stood together in unity when we hoped for the result that we all wanted, we should do the same now, irrespective of the outcome.

In victory or defeat, the way we act towards our fellow citizens is infinitely more valuable than that inscribed silver cup. 

Shabbat Shalom.

Parshat Pinchas: Modelling Leadership

It was a violation of the trust that the people had placed into him. He was after all a respected leader, someone whose face was known to many. He had numerous responsibilities, not least to those he was answerable to. That he could have acted in such a disgraceful manner is deeply disturbing and disappointing. He has let us all down.

On the face of it, you would expect that these words might very well apply to the recent news that jolted the Nation regarding the behaviour of the former Secretary of State for Health and Social Care. The honest and open face that reassured us when we struggled to make sense of the pandemic that overtook our lives one-and-a-half-years ago.

The man whom we thought we could trust has revealed himself to be anything but trustworthy, as per his statement of resignation:

"...I want to reiterate my apology for breaking the guidance, and apologise to my family and loved ones for putting them through this....we owe it to people who have sacrificed so much in this pandemic to be honest when we have let them down as I have done by breaching the guidance."

There is no mention of the infidelity he has perpetrated in destroying the sacred union he had established with his wife through marriage or the devastating consequences of such actions on his young family.

I am however, not referring to this gentleman but to another leader, one who lived many years ago. Rashi explaining the verse: 'A Prince of a father's house of the Simeonites' (Bemidbar 25.14) describes him as being:

 

 ‘of one of the five 'father’s houses' which were of the tribe of Simeon.’

 

To recap the end of last week's Parsha:

Bilaam sent Midinianite prostitutes into the Israelite camp and they seduced the Israelites, causing them to engage in idol worship and immoral acts. One of the women, Cozbi, the daughter of Tzur, who was a princess herself was caught with Zimri, the son of Salu, a Prince of Shimon by Pinchas, the grandson of Aaron. Pinchas, seeing this, took a spear and killed them both, which immediately brought an end to the plague that had been cast upon the Israelites.

The Torah makes a point of naming Zimri in this week's Parsha to emphasise the severity of what had happened. Despite his position as one of the most respected members of his tribe, Zimri's behaviour could not be condoned or tolerated in any way whatsoever. Whether or not he was married, his actions led to his being 'named and shamed' in perpetuity because Princes of tribes should not behave in such a degrading manner.

When considering the behaviour of both men, in terms of their respective immorality, there seems to be a consistent and sadly unbreakable thread which connects their actions through the mists of time. This link underscores the combustible relationship between responsibility, power and human weakness.

The Prince of the Tribe of Simeon and the former Health Secretary were both entrusted with the ability to make decisions that would affect the people who had elevated them to their respective positions. Furthermore, those outside their inner circle looked up to them on account of their status and roles.

"With great power there must also come great responsibility" is a quote that I have employed before. No-one quite knows its origins and it is attributed to numerous people ranging from Voltaire to Peter Parker's (aka Spider-Man) Uncle Ben. In truth, it is probably much older, dating back to the New Testament. Nevertheless, its exactitude cannot be underestimated. For, as they say "never a truer word" has been spoken (Prince Tcherkasky 18th Century).

Were this Biblical episode to be left standing without rectification, the Torah would be remiss in its mission to provide us with a moral code to help us identify the characteristics that are intrinsic to being a good leader. Someone whose actions are the polar opposites of those of the shamed Zimri, son of Salu. For, as I will discuss, the way a leader conducts him/herself in private can often impact on how they are perceived in public.

Later in the Parsha, we read the following verse:

 

And the Lord answered Moses (saying), “Single out Joshua son of Nun, an inspired man, and lay your hand upon him. Have him stand before Eleazar the priest and before the whole community, and commission him in their sight. Invest him with some of your authority, so that the whole Israelite community may obey. (27:18-20)

Rashi notes that when the Torah uses the phrase, "commission him in their sight":

“Know that they are troublesome, that they are rebellious — accept your office having in mind that you will have to take upon yourself all this (cf. Sifrei Bamidbar 92 on 11:16).

What Rashi is telling us concerns Moshe's responsibility to make sure Joshua, his successor knows what he must do to lead the people properly. How he must comport himself, so as to gain the respect he must have in order to discharge his duties effectively. He is telling him that whatever he does as a leader must reflect the behaviour that he expects from the people he is leading. You can't ask your followers to behave in a certain manner if you don't lead by example. 

Zimri, as Nasi, Prince of the Tribe of Shimon was no less responsible to his tribesmen and women than the Health Secretary was to the nation who were following his directives. How would we have behaved had we known of the Politician’s secret dalliance, in conjunction with wilfully ignoring his own advice?

This brings us to the topic of how the way we present ourselves publicly is predicated on the way we behave in our private lives.

It is a striking anomaly. On Yom Kippur, the holiest day in the Jewish calendar, the Torah reading for Minchah seems to be most inappropriate. One would expect it to revolve around the issue of spiritual purity and suchlike. Instead, we read about the forbidden illicit relationships between members of a single family. How, on this day, when we aspire to be angels, can we bring our minds to consider such baseness?

Chazal tell us that it is precisely such behaviour that we must be aware of, if we are to reach the spiritual heights that we are meant to attain. In order to be a Holy Nation to Gd, we must act in a fitting manner. Should men who have been unable to control their basest instincts be the people that we look up to as role models? 

This is why, if we juxtapose the language used to describe Zimri and Joshua, we see how the Torah is really the originator of the phrase I quoted earlier, if not verbatim, then certainly in spirit.

Perhaps the gentleman whose tattered reputation now lies at his feet will consider this when he aspires to move onto another role. It is never too late to change one's behaviour and ‘turn over a new leaf'. However, before worrying about the rights or wrongs of whether cameras should or should not have been filming what transpired, perhaps he should be focussing on his own internal photograph - the kind that won't be brought up in evidence in a human court of law.

None of us are perfect and we all make mistakes, but if we wish to be role models to others, we need to start by acting as such. For what we do and how we represent ourselves impacts on many other people.

As Pirkei Avot tells us, of all the physical and metaphorical crowns that we wear, the most important is that of ‘a good name’.

Shabbat Shalom.

Shavuot: Wherefore Art Thou?

 Shavuot appears as a conundrum.

Of all the three ‘foot festivals’, it is the only one whose date is not to be found anywhere in the Torah. In fact, according to the introduction to Rabbi Sacks’ Shavuot machzor/prayer book, he explains that:

‘Nowhere does the Torah say that we should celebrate it on such-and-such a day in a specific month. Instead it says: “And you shall count seven complete weeks from the day following the first day of the festival, when you brought the omer as a wave offering….And you shall proclaim on that day – it shall be a sacred assembly for you: you may not perform any laborious work” (Vayikra 23:15-21). The text in Devarim is even less specific: “Count for yourselves seven weeks; when the sickle begins to cut the standing grain” (16:9).’

He continues by informing us that, until our calendar was fixed in the fourth century CE, the chag could fall on three different days, depending on whether in any given year:

‘Nisan and Iyar were both short months of twenty-nine days, or both long, of thirty days, or one was long, the other short. If both were long, Shavuot fell on the fifth of Sivan. If one was long and one short, it was celebrated on the sixth, and if both were short, it occurred on the seventh. This makes it difficult to understand how it could be a commemoration of any historical event, since events happen on particular days of the year, while Shavuot did not.’

Secondly, we don’t know where the events that we recall on Shavuot, namely Matan Torah, the giving of the Torah to the Israelites, actually took place.  Was the mountain in modern day Egypt, Jordan or Saudi Arabia? There are as many theories as there are possible locations.

Thirdly, nowhere in the Torah does it connect the giving of the Ten Commandments to the festival itself! We know that it took place fifty days after the Exodus from Egypt, but as I wrote, we aren’t sure when. The obfuscation of this connection led to numerous arguments later on down the historical line with various groups arguing vociferously as to when Shavuot should be celebrated. Depending on whether you were a Pharisee or Saducee, Bethusian, Samaritan, a member of the Qumram sect of the famous Dead Sea Scroll or a Karaite, you would find yourself recounting the given of the Aseret Hadibrot (the Ten Commandments or more accurately ‘statements’) on a different day!

This didn’t occur on any other festival and the fact that we uniformly celebrate Shavuot today in Israel on sixth Sivan and in the rest of the world on the seventh as well, attests to its durability and otherworldliness quality. And notice that I haven’t even mentioned cheesecake!

Whether or not the Torah was gifted to us on the fifth, sixth or even seventh of the month doesn’t stop us appreciating an event that took place exactly 3,333 years ago today, tomorrow or even on Tuesday. That we don’t know exactly where it transpired is also not particularly relevant. Every Jew, however connected or disconnected with our heritage knows that, thousands of years ago, somewhere in a distant desert, something transformative happened to our ancestors and our nation. An event that would change the course of world history. A gift that ‘keeps on giving’ to the world’s three monotheistic religions.

The Torah was given to the Jews (or Israelites as they were known then) and then transmitted to the ‘Seventy Nations’.

On a personal basis, at least in my direct family, Shavuot has a distinctive place. My own connection with the chag takes place thousands of miles away from the deserts, to the beautiful city of Paris, where my parents first met, exactly sixty one years ago this evening (the first night of Shavuot).

Let me explain.

Last week, I received a phone call from a volunteer at Jewish Care who gleefully informed me that, to my surprise, my mother had, over the last few years, dictated her life story to another volunteer. This memoir was complete and must have been finished shortly before her passing. Not only that, it also contained family photographs.

You can imagine my surprise and joy to find out about this, although to be fair, I think my mother probably told me about the project a while ago and I’d completely forgotten. This news came as though the sun were bursting through a very dark and rainy sky, bringing with it a warmth that I have not been able to feel for quite a while.

My mother described her life before, during and after the war and included in her memoirs were a detailed retelling of how she met my father.

She had journeyed to Paris from her home in Antwerp to spend Shavuot with friends. On the first evening that she arrived, my father, who was a cousin of these people was also there and they met for the first time. The two of them spent ten days walking around the romantic city of Paris and my father (along with a chaperone who was his cousin) acted as her tour guide, visiting many famous locales including the Notre Dame Cathedral. As an architect, he was extremely knowledgeable and wanted to share his expertise with such a pretty young lady! When the holiday was finished, they returned to their respective homes and that seemed to be the end of it. However, on her birthday which was 26^th June, she received the most beautiful bouquet of yellow roses (yellow was her favourite colour) and lo and behold, they were married by the Chief Rabbi of Antwerp on 29^th October 1961.

They spent their honeymoon aboard the Queen Mary sailing from Southampton to New York, although they had to contend with a storm at sea, so most of the time was spent on the upper deck. I arrived on the scene quite a few years later.

Shavuot is the festival when Gd established his covenant with us, the Jewish people. It is the anniversary when He, the bridegroom chose us, as his bride. The Chupah took place at the foot of Mount Sinai and the Torah was his Ketubah. Moses was the perfect Rabbi, conducting the service and preparing the Jewish people for the eternal marriage that still exists between our creator and our nation. How could I not appreciate the significance of my parents’ meeting over this particular festival? What started at Sinai, continued in Antwerp and although my mother is no longer with us in a physical form, her legacy, like the Torah that was given to us, will be with our family forever.

Wherefore art thou Shavuot? Right here in my heart.

Chag Sameach to you and your families.

Parshat Bemidbar: 5781 And All That

 If I cite the names W.C.  Sellar and R.J. Yeatman, I could vouch that very few of my contemporaries will be aware of the tome for which they are justifiably famous.  Making its debut in Punch magazine, it was published in book form by Methuen in 1930.

You might be better versed and know that I am referring to ‘1066 And All That: A Memorable History of England, Comprising All the Parts You Can Remember, Including 103 Good Things, 5 Bad Kings and 2 Genuine Dates’

I must confess that I have never read the book although I was familiar with its title due to seeing it in my parents' library, amongst the numerous books that I'm going to have to sort out very shortly.  This is not a task that I am particularly anticipating.

I refer to that particular title because, looking back from the vantage point of mid-May or alternatively, eight months into the Jewish year I think I can say relatively fairly, that this year of 5781, has been nothing short of horrific.

Need I mention the nightmare that is still Covid, which has taken the lives of so many? Then, the loss of numerous Torah Giants, including Rabbis Steinsaltz, Lamm, Rabinovitch and Twersky.  And if that weren't unimaginable enough, our beloved, irreplaceable Rabbi Sacks.

Adding to the despair, I am still trying to come to terms with the loss of my own mother, just over a month ago.  As I write these words, Israel is in flames, quite literally, with rockets and riots, deaths and destruction.  '5781 And All That' is anything but a parody but it is and will no doubt be memorable for all of the wrong reasons.  So what comfort can this week's parsha provide?

Two months before he passed away last November, Rabbi Sacks ztl saw the publication of his final book: 'Judaism's Life Changing Ideas: A Weekly Reading of the Jewish Bible'.  Though modest in size, its contents were anything but, as our leader's thoughts were collated from his weekly 2017-18 (5778) ‘Covenant and Conversation’ booklet. 

Each week's Dvar Torah imparted the kind of wisdom that only its author could impart.

We are about to embark on the fourth book of the Torah, known to some as 'Numbers' and to others as 'Bemidbar - In the Desert'.  Rabbi Sacks begins with the following:

‘The books of Exodus and Numbers have striking similarities.  They are both about journeys.  They both portray the Israelites as quarrelsome and ungrateful.  Both contain stories about the people complaining about food and water.  In both, the Israelites commit a major sin: in Exodus, the golden calf; in Numbers, the episode of the spies.  In both, God threatens to destroy them and begin again with Moses.  Both times, Moses' passionate appeal persuades God to forgive the people.  It is easy, when reading the book of Numbers, to feel a sense of déjà vu.  We have been here before.’

‘Where the books differ’, he continues, is to realise that ‘there is a difference’.  Whereas:

‘Exodus is about a journey from, Numbers is about a journey to.  Exodus is the story of an escape from slavery.  Exodus means just that: departure, withdrawal, leaving.  By contrast, in the book of Numbers the people have already left Egypt far behind.  They have spent a prolonged period in the Sinai desert.  They have received the Torah (as we will read on Monday) and built the Sanctuary.  Now they are ready to move on.  This time, they are looking forward, not back.  They are thinking, not of the danger they are fleeing from, but of the destination they are travelling towards, the Promised Land.’

Reading these words, I stop and think about what I and we have been through in the last year-and-a-half.  In the deepest darkest months when Covid was creeping up on us at every turn, we held onto the belief that things had to get better.  They would probably get worse, but they had to improve.  Didn't they?  Then the vaccine came along and we deigned to believe that spring and its promises could not be too far away.  We hoped.  We prayed.  We held onto something, however slight, however fragile.  The hope, Hatikvah, that things would get better.

 

And here we are, in the depths of yet another crisis, watching the people we care about running for their lives, not from the plague, but from their neighbours.  The destination that we were travelling towards seems to have vanished like a mirage in the desert and we are walking backwards, towards Egypt. 

The first verses of Bemidbar tell us that:

‘(1) On the first day of the second month, in the second year following the exodus from the land of Egypt, the Lord spoke to Moses in the wilderness of Sinai, in the Tent of Meeting, saying: (2) Take a census of the whole Israelite community by the clans of its ancestral houses, listing the names, every male, head by head.’

Rashi infers something beautiful from these introductory Pesukim:

‘Because they were dear to him, He counts them every now and then: when they went forth from Egypt He counted them (Exodus 12:37), when many of them fell in consequence of their having worshipped the golden calf He counted them to ascertain the number of those left (cf.  Rashi Exodus 30:16); when he was about to make His Shechinah dwell amongst them (i.e.  when He commanded them to make a Tabernacle), He again took their census; for on the first day of Nisan the Tabernacle was erected (Exodus 40:2) and shortly afterwards, on the first day of Iyar, He counted them.’

In ‘5781 And All That’, it may seem that we, like our ancestors, are walking in the wrong direction but somehow, we have all been here before and despite all of our travails and missteps, Gd still decides to count us and demonstrate how special we are to Him, because every Jew matters, full stop.  Every Jew who survived Covid and every Jew who didn’t.  Every Jew who prayed alone.  Every Jew who didn't pray.  Every Jew who looks at the situation in Israel and cries.  Every Jew who doesn't care about what is happening.  Every Jew who survives a terrorist attack and every Jew who doesn’t.  Every Jew who acts in a way that embarrasses the rest of us.  Every single one of us is counted and valued by Gd.  When Rabbi Sacks tells us that we on a journey 'to', he knows that there will be countless challenges on our way.  He knows that some of us won't make it.  He and my mother left us before they could complete their journeys.  But his words, our Torah, our heritage, our future are assured, however blinded we are by the events that envelop us.

As he concludes with his Life-Changing Idea (#34):

‘Remember your destination.  This will help you to distinguish between an opportunity to be seized and a temptation to be resisted’. 

As he writes:

‘The Israelites, in their journey.  made a series of mistakes.  They focused too much on the present (the food, the water) and too little on the future'.  When they faced difficulties, they had too much fear and too little faith.  They kept looking back to how things were instead of looking forward to how they might be...they knew how to leave but not how to arrive.  They experienced exodus but not entry.’

I believe that we need to hold onto these thoughts as we navigate the choppy waters of '5781 And All That' because every nightmare has to end.  Every storm has to cease and whatever happens and however long it takes, eventually the sun will reclaim the sky. 

Shabbat Shalom and stay safe. 

Emor: Sanctification

 בס"ד

1^st May 2021 / 19^th Nissan 5781

In memory of my dear mother, Imi Morati Bryna Rouge bat Reb Yechiel a’h

Leviticus 22: (31) You shall faithfully observe My commandments: I am the LORD.  (32) You shall not profane My holy name, that I may be sanctified in the midst of the Israelite people—I the LORD who sanctify you, (33) I who brought you out of the land of Egypt to be your God, I the LORD.

ויקרא כ״ב:ל״א-ל״ג (לא) וּשְׁמַרְתֶּם֙ מִצְוֺתַ֔י וַעֲשִׂיתֶ֖ם אֹתָ֑ם אֲנִ֖י ה'׃ (לב) וְלֹ֤א תְחַלְּלוּ֙ אֶת־שֵׁ֣ם קָדְשִׁ֔י וְנִ֨קְדַּשְׁתִּ֔י בְּת֖וֹךְ בְּנֵ֣י יִשְׂרָאֵ֑ל אֲנִ֥י ה' מְקַדִּשְׁכֶֽם׃ (לג) הַמּוֹצִ֤יא אֶתְכֶם֙ מֵאֶ֣רֶץ מִצְרַ֔יִם לִהְי֥וֹת לָכֶ֖ם לֵאלֹקִ֑ים אֲנִ֖י ה'׃

 

Gd's instruction that His name should not be profaned, otherwise known as the mitzvah to avoid a 'chillul Hashem' is anything but trivial.  However, there is an interesting discussion amongst Chazal regarding whom he is addressing with the word ‘you’.

 

The Ibn Ezra (d.1167) famously notes that:

This is directed to the sons of Aaron, for this section Verses 26-33.  is connected to what is earlier stated.  To verse 18 which is directed to Aaron, to his sons, and to all of Israel.  In other words, verses 26-33 are directed to the sons of Aaron. 

Ibn Ezra on Leviticus 22:32:1

His view is agreed upon by a number of other commentators.  However, if that were indeed the case, it would absolve the rest of the people from having to obey this law!

The Rambam (d.1204) disagrees and states:

(1) It is mandatory upon the whole house of Israel to sanctify this Great Name, for it is said: "And I shall be sanctified among the children of Israel" (Lev.  22.32).  They are also charged not to blaspheme Him, for it is said: "And ye shall not profane My holy Name" (Ibid.).

Mishneh Torah, Foundations of the Torah 5:1

So, we have a dichotomy between two giants of Torah who are trying to decipher the meaning of this verse.  Is it aimed at a select group of people or the general population?  If the former, then, we mere Israelites are 'off the hook' as it were if we accidentally cause a Chillul Hashem.  If the latter, then everybody is liable.

More to the point, what are the consequences that occur as a result of such a desecration?

It's really quite simple.  When we think of the members of our faith who publicly bring our nation into disrepute (I shall not mention any names, but you could probably guess whom I am referring to) and as a result cause people to question our ethics and behaviour as Jews, we are suffering the fallout of a Chillul Hashem.  To our critics, it is immaterial whether the person who was responsible was a Kohen or not, an Orthodox or Secular Jew, a Sephardi or Ashkenazi.  As far as they are concerned, this person was 'one of ours' and they will always be identified as such.

I would venture to add that Gd's instruction, whichever way it was meant to be interpreted, gave a clear and immutable message.  "When you (whomever 'you' happen to be') desecrate My name and in the process, do not sanctify it, you forget your position as the nation that I, your Gd elevated you to.  I took you out of Egypt to make you into a nation that would act as a reflection of My role in the world."

You, the Kohanim or you, the entire population have a duty to sanctify me through your actions and behaviour and your dealings with the world at large, both in a personal capacity as well as professionally.

When I think of someone who was an example of demonstrating how to behave, my late mother immediately comes to mind.  She lit up every room she walked into and befriended people from all nations.  In terms of demonstrating how to behave and act in a manner that promoted a Kiddush Hashem, my mother was the example.

That she has left us so suddenly is still incomprehensible to me as well as many, many other people.  Yet, through her actions, her love of people and her love of her own religion, we, the ones she left behind have been forever enriched.  It is therefore comforting to know that when we read the above verses, we can say that far from desecrating Gd's name, she did everything in her power to illuminate it far and wide. 

May her memory be a blessing to you, whoever you are. 

Shabbat Shalom.

Vayakhel-Pekudei (Hachodesh) : To Infinity and Beyond

 

בס"ד

13^th March 2021/ 29^th Adar 5781

It was like a breath of fresh air, albeit of the Martian variety when we heard that Perseverance, NASA's $2.7 billion 'rover' had landed successfully inside the Jezero Crater on 18th February.  Ignoring the spectre of Covid19, we could focus our minds, albeit temporarily on another news-story.  We waited for the first photographs to arrive from across the universe and twenty-four hours later, my WhatsApp proudly showed me the very first image received from our mechanical buddy, bearing the legend: "First photo they released from Mars".

Endurance had captured the red planet's rocky surface in all its glory and there, nestled in full view was...a Chabad House! Of course, it was, because Chabad 'refreshes the parts that no other organisation can reach'.

                                            

Yes, it was a joke and a good one at that, but behind the humour, there was a salient fact, that somehow, the Jewish Nation manages, through sheer chutzpah to punch 'far above our weight' and we've been doing this for a very, very long time.

Who cannot be extraordinarily proud of Israel's successes in managing to vaccinate millions of people in record-breaking time?  She is leading the world in this respect, followed hotly on its heels by this country.  The numbers vaccinated in both countries are frankly staggering and the envy of the world.  I make no apologies for Israel's success but then again, I'm not surprised.  We have 'tenure' in showing our Gentile neighbours how to behave.  A great deal of tenure.

Through the centuries, our nation has faced many existential threats, the first of which I discussed last week, when we recounted the shocking episode of the Golden Calf.  It seemed that despite His promises to Abraham, Isaac and Jacob, our newly minted nation was not going to make its way out of the desert.  Had Moses not intervened and pleaded with Gd on our behalf, our life on this planet would have been extinguished long before mankind sought to explore other worlds.  Gd relented and forgave the Israelites and then the most unexpected event occurred. 

Over the last month, we have been reading through the detailed description which began with these words:

 The Lord spoke to Moshe, saying, "Tell the Israelites to take an offering for Me; take My offering from all whose heart moves them to give.  These are the offerings you shall receive from them: gold, silver and bronze...they shall make Me a sanctuary and I will dwell in their midst." (Exodus 25)

The master craftsmen who were individually appointed by Gd to carry out the intricate work were Betzalel and his aid, Oholiov.  The Torah tells us in the first of this week's sidrot of Vayakhel that:

From Moshe they received all the offerings the Israelites had brought for the work of the sanctuary and the people kept bringing them additional gifts every morning. (Exodus 36)

The people were so generous to the extent that we are told that they:

Said to Moshe, “The people are bringing more than is necessary for the work that Gd has commanded us to do.”  So Moshe ordered an announcement to be made throughout the camp, "Let no man or woman make anything more as an offering for the sanctuary."  So the people brought no more; for what they had already had was more than enough for all the work that was to be done.

A key concept in our faith is the idea that we have a duty to sanctify Gd's name to the nations of the world and do everything we can to avoid desecrating it.  These two ideas are known as Kiddush and Chillul Hashem.

The origin of the latter can be found in a number of verses in the Torah such as Leviticus 22.32:

You shall not profane My holy name, that I may be sanctified in the midst of the Israelite people—I am the Lord who sanctifies you.

Can you think of a greater Kiddush Hashem than the people making so many contributions to the building of the Tabernacle, that they are asked to cease from doing so?  It is diametrically the opposite of the Chillul Hashem perpetrated through the building of the Golden Calf. 

We have tenure when it comes to showing the world how to behave when we demonstrate the very best of what we can achieve.  This is both as a small community in the United Kingdom and a nation who 'kvells' every time Israel sends her citizens abroad to offer vital humanitarian aid during natural disasters such as earthquakes and flooding.  Israel is always there.  The Jewish people are always on hand to help.

The Mishkan, the Tabernacle, is very much on our minds as it is exactly during this week that Moses prepared the structure for its inauguration which took place on Rosh Chodesh Nisan, the first day of the month which will begin as soon as Shabbat ends.

For seven days, from 23rd Adar, the Mishkan was erected and dismantled for a week of 'training' whilst Moses took on the role of the Cohen Gadol, the High Priest, initiating his brother and his four sons into the ritual of the priesthood.

On Rosh Chodesh, it was assembled for use (until Gd instructed the people to decamp) and thus began the twelve days of bringing gifts by the princes of the Tribes which are described so beautifully in the Sidra of Naso.

This entire episode, bringing tribes together with brothers working in harmony is the ultimate expression of what Kiddush Hashem looks like. 

Chabad may not have made it to Mars quite yet, but the spirit that they and many other Jews exhibit is built from the same material as that which caused a people who had sunk to such a low level, reach the dizzying heights described above.  We show the world what we can achieve, whether through the contributions we make to the world through science, technology, philosophy and culture or the miracle that is our wonderful State of Israel.  In short, we remind them that we can be a dazzling 'light to the nations' through the darkest and most terrifying of times.

To infinity and beyond!

Shabbat Shalom and Chodesh Tov - a happy and healthy new month.

Ki Tissa: Sorry Seems To Be The Hardest Word

 It was around the thirtieth anniversary of the death of Roald Dahl, the gifted mind who gave the world 'Charlie and the Chocolate Factory', 'James and the Giant Peach', 'The Witches', 'The BFG' and other classic books, that the following notice appeared on his official website:

‘The Dahl family and the Roald Dahl Story Company deeply apologise for the lasting and understandable hurt caused by Roald Dahl’s anti-Semitic statements.  Those prejudiced remarks are incomprehensible to us and stand in marked contrast to the man we knew and to the values at the heart of Roald Dahl's stories, which have positively impacted young people for generations.  We hope that, just as he did at his best, at his absolute worst, Roald Dahl can help remind us of the lasting impact of words.’

This was followed a few weeks later, on 12th February by another admission of guilt on Twitter by the world-famous pop star, Justin Timberlake.  He wrote:

‘I have seen the messages, tags, comments, and concerns and I want to respond.  I am deeply sorry for the times in my life where my actions contributed to the problem, where I spoke out of turn, or did not speak up for what was right.  I specifically want to apologize to Britney Spears and Janet Jackson both individually, because I care for and respect these women and I know I failed...’

Lest we forget why these apologies were issued, let us remind ourselves of the events that led to their appearances.

Roald Dahl was no friend of the Jewish people.  In a now infamous interview in the New Statesman in 1983, he said:

“There is a trait in the Jewish character that does provoke animosity, maybe it’s a kind of lack of generosity towards non-Jews...I mean, there’s always a reason why anti-anything crops up anywhere.” 

As if he hadn't caused enough offence, he added,

“Even a stinker like Hitler didn’t just pick on them for no reason.”

Justin Timberlake, who had dated the teenage pop singer, Britney Spears, did not specify exactly what he had done to shame her in public (as per his admission).  He also acted improperly after the embarrassment caused by the notorious incident involving Janet Jackson at the Super Bowl performance in 2004.  Whilst she was severely excoriated by the media, he exonerated himself, leaving her to bear the brunt of the ugly aftermath.  Her career stagnated whilst his soared.

We have become used to numerous politicians and occasional sports personalities having to issue half-hearted apologies to salvage their careers.  It is, however, unusual to witness two admissions of guilt so close together that seemingly appear to be genuinely felt.  No doubt Mr Timberlake's confession will have come to the fore as a result of the widely discussed documentary on Britney Spears, but the language seems to indicate that he had been dwelling on his actions for a considerable amount of time.  I would like to believe that the same applied to the family of Roald Dahl who seemingly waited for an opportune moment to try, as it were 'to clear his name'.

How could they have reached a higher spiritual and physical peak?

Having survived hundreds of years in captivity and witnessed the greatest empire in the known world brought to its knees by the Ten Plagues and the splitting of the sea, the Israelites wanted for nothing.  They were fed on a daily basis, provided with their every need and had been given the extraordinary gift of the Torah by no less than the Master of the Universe Himself.

And then it all went so terribly wrong.

Bernie Taupin's lyrics to "Sorry seems to be the hardest word", sung so beautifully by the writer of the melody, Elton John sum up the difficulty we all have in apologising:

"What I got to do to make you want me?
What I got to do to be heard?
What do I say when it's all over babe?
Sorry seems to be the hardest word."

 © Hst Publishing Ltd., Rouge Booze Inc.

 

Then the Lord said to Moshe, “I have seen this people; it is a stiff-necked people so do not try to stop Me when My anger burns against them.  I will put an end to them and make of you a great nation.” ( Exodus 32:9 :)

Can we put ourselves in Gd's position and understand His rationale?

Of course, we cannot do this because we are human but we understand the anger that comes about as a result of ingratitude and betrayal.  We appreciate why Gd, Whose Ten Commandments began with the statement that they should remember that He and only He was their (and our) Gd - there could be no other.  Yet, here they were, worshipping a Golden Calf in His stead.

Gd wanted to destroy the people and reboot the Israelites through Moses, the Lawgiver, the only human that:

The Lord would speak to Moshe face to face, as one person speaks to his friend. (Exodus 33.11)

In this week’s sedra, we find ourselves at the first crossroads in our burgeoning existence.  It is literally 'touch and go' and we see that Moses' response was a masterstroke to assuage Gd.  The offshoot of his efforts are that:

                The LORD relented from the Evil He had spoken of doing to His people (Exodus 33.11)

This is not to indicate that Gd was any less angry with us than before.  The long conversations between Gd and His servant are reported throughout the rest of the sedra, to the point where Moses has to almost sacrifice himself to prove his dedication to ensuring the survival of the nation he has led out of slavery.

The long road back to both forgiveness and renewal only takes shape once Moses descends the mountain with the second set of Tablets on the 10th Tishri, which hitherto we know as Yom Kippur.  To reach that point, though, he has to say 'sorry' in a way that the Lord will accept his plea and we, the Jewish people will be able to employ to ask for our own forgiveness.  Through our Selichot.  Our prayers of supplication.

The apology apparently sincerely offered by Roald Dahl’s family and Justin Timberlake himself are the first step to proving that although 'sorry may be the hardest word', it is one that opens a channel for reconciliation and renewal.  But like Moses' first tentative steps on Mount Sinai, it is not enough to totally convince their audience that their previous misdemeanours have been completely forgiven.  We will judge the veracity of their statements by how both entities behave in the future.  Will the family of Roald Dahl do anything more to demonstrate their desire to build bridges with the Jewish Community?  Will Justin Timberlake act in an improper fashion in the future?  Only time will be able to show us.

It took much more for Moses to introduce the concept of praying for forgiveness on the holiest day of the Jewish calendar.  That we still need this day 3,333 years later attests to the fragile relationship between the wrongful actions we do and the reparations we need to make to fully apologise to both our peers and the King of the Universe.

Because, after all these years, sorry still seems to be the hardest word - and that's not necessarily a bad thing.  It might be difficult to apologise, but if it is truly meant, it can also be one of the most beautiful five-letter expressions in the English language.

Shabbat Shalom.