My favourite Israeli writer, Etgar Keret has this to say on the relationship between asthma and love;

“When someone, while having an asthma attack, says "I love you" or "I really love you", there's a difference. A word difference. And a word is a lot, because that word could have been "sit", "Ventolin" or even "ambulance". ”

This week's parasha explores love in a multifaceted way, marital love, of a father for his child, love that forces a woman to choose between her husband and her son, the same love that forces her to send the child far away.

In one verse, the Torah summarises the powerful love that is held and deeply felt in the household of Yitzchak, Rivkah, Ya'akov and Esav.

"And Yitzchak loved Esav, for the game he put in his mouth, but Rivkah loves Yaakov."

Yitzchak loved Esav, past tense and Rivkah loves Yaakov present tense, why the difference?

My friends, buckle up and make like a teenage girl texting her crush, we're reading into things;

The Dubno Maggid suggests that the discrepancy in the text refers to two different forms of love. The first is the love for a person's tangible achievements, what have they accomplished that makes them worthy of our love. When we meet someone we ask "what do you do?", or if you're a toddler like me we ask "what are you studying? oh, and are you enjoying that?" (I nod enthusiastically while a small internal voice squeaks SOS!). After asking that fatal question we continue to develop a relationship with someone based on what they can achieve, and once they stop providing worth in our life, we cull them. Yitzchak "loved" Esav in that the bond always relied on something that Esav provided to his father or accomplished in the past (whether it be game he bought his father or his athletic prowess that induced sports day nachas).

Rivkah, on the other hand, loves Yaakov, not for what he has done but for who he is, a love that continues uninterrupted, unperturbed by failures or successes.

I'm only slightly lying to you, the Dubno Maggid is suggesting that it is the difference between Esav and Yaakov's personalities that earns them their respective form of parental love. However, I don't know if it is likely nowadays that we meet either an Esav or a Yaakov. It is more likely we meet a mixture, someone who is trying to work on their long-term self, but who gets caught up in the short term, the accomplishment of the day. So it depends on us, what do we see in the people we love. Do we see them as a walking list of the things they have done, and what worth they can provide to our lives. Or do we appreciate them for their essence, and love them unconditionally, regardless of success.

Shabbat Shalom

Eitan

#love #etgarkeret #asthma #toldot #parasha

You know when it's been a long day and an even longer night? You've travelled far, dealt with a disaster or two, and finally are on your way back. You turn a corner and see your home. It is a moment of relief, everything about the challenges you just experienced feels a little lighter, because inside, at home, everything is guaranteed to be exactly as it was when you left it.

I'm sure this is how Avraham felt when he returned home after the Akeida, after travelling very far, almost slaughtering his son and travelling all the way home again, he was excited to see his wife, hug her, tell her everything was okay, put on his pyjamas and go to bed.

Avraham, however, was not able to enjoy his moment of peace after his harrowing journey, rather he finds that Sarah, after hearing (falsely) that Yitzchak had been sacrificed, died of heartbreak. This is the scene that the tired Avraham returns to.

It would be well within his rights for Avraham to respond with grief, anger and disbelief - but he doesn't. Instead, at the age of 137, he does two things, which are arguably the most important from a wider perspective.

First, he sends his trusted steward, Eliezer to go find a wife for Yitzchak. He must find a girl who is worthy of continuing the Jewish lineage and ascending to the matriarchal throne, left empty by Sarah's passing.

Second, he goes to purchase land in which to bury Sarah, marking the first time a Jew obtains a tangible claim to a piece of Eretz Yisrael. This moment sets the foundation for pre-establishment organisations like JNF who attempt to legally purchase as much of the land as possible.

So - to summarise, Sarah dies, and Avraham responds by securing our nation's lineage and land-claim.

We can learn a powerful lesson from Avraham's response to such a bitter tragedy. Rather than sitting and mourning the loss, Avraham looks to the future and secures it for generations to come. This is evident, even in the manner with which he procures the land for Sarah's grave. Ephron, who is the original owner of the land, is described to be in league with Mr Wormwood from Matilda, a sleazy salesman who deserves to have his hat glued on his head (if you don't understand the Matilda reference, accept that you had an empty childhood and move on). However, despite the personal tragedy Avraham is experiencing, he treats this man with great respect and justice. Some commentators say that this was truly Avraham's final test, to understand that he has no right to target Ephron or act poorly towards him. Avraham is at a low point, it would be easy to let his vision be clouded by his own challenges and snap at Ephron. Instead, he decides not to drag Ephron down in his moment of despair.

It is clear that this trait of Avraham exists within the Jewish bloodstream today, in the global response to the tragedy of Pittsburg. Yes, we mourn and yes, we are deeply saddened. However, we have also seen unity, projects that encourage Jews to observe this Shabbat or hang 11,000 mezuzot in honour of the victims. Because we are a nation that has always responded to troubles by looking towards the future, by fighting darkness with light.

May the memory of the victims be a blessing.

Am Yisrael Chai

Eitan

#tragedy #light #darkness #parasha #hineni #response #Chayeisarah

I find it challenging to relate to Yitzchak

The only one of the three forefathers never to leave Israel, he doesn't do much of anything, instead, he just lives his life copying his father Avraham. My friend frames it well, she says "Avraham dug a well, and ... Yitzchak digs the exact same well." He sounds a bit nebish, like a bit of a nobody.

But then we consider the whole Akeidat Yitzchak scene. Recently I was teaching some chanichim about the episode, and I took them around the block with a series of physical challenges to emulate the long journey while explaining the story on the way. I told them how Hashem wanted to test Avraham's faith. Hashem told Avraham to take his son, his only son, and sacrifice him to Hashem. Avraham had such faith in the almighty that he awoke early in the morning took his son on a journey to the place where he would sacrifice him.

"Why did Yitzchak agree to be killed?" asked a chanich.

"He also had great faith in Hashem" I answered (lamely).

"If G-d asked me to die, I would say no," said the youngest in the group.

"Just... do the ten pushups," I said, but in my head, I thought... "fair"

Why did Yitzchak agree to go along with all this? what trait does Yitzchak possess that makes him so willing to go through with such a permanent decision?

The Chatam Sofer accredits Yitzchak as the first Jew to follow the teachings of another Jew. Yitzchak had great faith in his wise father, Avraham, and he exhibited a great ability to listen, learn and follow. He mastered the ability to see and appreciate his father's greatness, and in turn adopt a passive role in order to glean as much as he could from Avraham. He did not hear firsthand the commandment to perform the sacrifice, but he got up early with Avraham to set out on their journey nonetheless.

There is an idea that the traits of our forefathers enter the Jewish bloodstream and present themselves as the predominant traits of our nation. From Yitzchak, we receive our 'emunat chachamim', our belief in the sages. Halacha is a fine example where we exhibit trust in our oral traditions and the rabbinic decrees by building our lives around the structures these wiser, older sages provide us. Herein lies a huge challenge, sometimes we disagree with our sages, or what they say feels out of place or out of context. Yitzchak teaches us how to remove ourselves from the equation, how to truly appreciate the wisdom of another, and allow yourself to follow with faith.

So Yitzchak old buddy, I take it back, I think I like you.

Shabbat Shalom

Eitan

#Yitzchak #Avraham #Isaac #Abraham #Learning #Following #Leadership

'Tis the season for melancholy

Fa la la la la, la la, la, laaaa.

'Twas the week before exams, and all throughout town,

all the millennials were complaining, with a hmph and a frown'

Yes, exams season is upon us, and it feels exactly like a certain festival of a certain other Abramic religion. But instead of spending time with our family, we retract like hermits and don't see them for weeks. Instead of 12 days of happy lead-up, complete with advent calendars, we are stuck with our one week of SwatVac, complete with hours of trying to understand the difference between Aldosterone and Anti-Diuretic Hormone (no, really, if anyone understands this, please send help). In spite of all this, our university does give us presents; 4-6 brand new, gift-wrapped exams, filled with questions which refer to content we didn't even know was in the syllabus. Thanks

(I'm sorry if it isn't exam time in Sydney, maybe it is, who knows what goes on over there, for all we know you don't even go to university, you just find a degree washed up on the shore of Bondi beach after a day of meaningful surfing.) But, if it doesn't work like that, you guys can agree that exams can sometimes feel impossible.

This week's parasha provides a little encouragement, in terms of our nation and that little word 'impossible';

In classic night-time-camp hadracha, G-d takes Avraham outside his tent to go stargazing.

"Look up at the sky and count the stars? Can you count them?" and he said to him. "So shall your children be" (Bereshit, 15:5)

This classic scene, in which G-d promises a 74-year-old childless man that he will be the father of a great nation, always reminds me of Helena Bonham Carter as the fairy godmother in Cinderella (https://youtu.be/OOcGYbK_GLM?t=153). Hashem promises Avraham something that he's wanted all his life, that previously seemed out of reach, "you SHALL go to the ball", he whispers to this slightly older, slightly less beautiful Cinderella.

However, there is another interpretation of this moment that portrays Hashem as less of a magical being, fulfilling the wishes of his children, but rather as a commentator on the traits of Avraham. When he asked Avram to look up to the sky and count the stars, that's exactly what he started doing, one...two... three...

To count all the stars in the night sky is seemingly impossible, there are so many, and it requires highly developed spatial awareness skills, which I for one, do not possess (still trying to figure out where the heck the kidneys are in relation to the rest of the body), but Avraham was willing to give it a crack. At this moment Avraham portrayed his die-hard optimism, his everlasting faith, and his ability to tackle any challenge. As Avraham continues to count, G-d smiles and says "so shall your children be", they will also carry the trait of optimism, and possess the ability to overcome immense challenges.

I am drawn to this new interpretation of the scene, for rather than promising Avraham a line of descendants, an image which is entirely faceless and impersonal, Hashem blesses the family of Avraham with eternal optimism, with just enough chutzpah and ingenuity to see right through that which seems insurmountable.

So whether it be exams or something (*cough*) more important, know that it's in your blood to achieve the feats that others would deem unattainable, out of the question; impossible.

Shabbat Shalom

Eitan

#Cinderella #Impossible #Possible #Avraham #LechLecha #Bereshit

Alrighty,

So it’s that time of the week again when Eitan sends out our favourite email but instead, you got me so good luck.

This week's Parsha looks at the cause of the great flood and aftermath and contains a depiction of the absolute idiocracy of the human race. It discusses men having two wives, one for the purpose of having children and the other for purposes of entertainment. It discusses the absolute carnage that society was in due to the disorder and violence that had riddled the population, and the need to start from scratch. It is said that the world was destroyed because people were making selfish decisions. Now, generally, that is a rather difficult topic to relate to Hineni, as we don't see too many of those types of issues arising.

However, the main lesson from this week's Parsha is one of decency, kindness, Tikkun Olam and awareness. I think we can relate this idea of looking out for one another rather than focusing on our selfish needs to Hineni. We have seen the growth we have been able to achieve over the last few years due to the hard work and dedication that we have put in as a team. It is not a solo effort that can be achieved by one, it requires a collective effort to achieve a particular goal with helping hands along the way. This drive, communication and effort goes beyond years and knowledge and we are able to achieve these great triumphs only when working as a team.

No matter the borders that divide us between Sydney, Melbourne and Israel, we all aim for Hineni to be a unified machine keeping kids Jewish and finding shidduchim for our madrichim.

So on that note, I wish you a beautiful Shabbos and many more to come and can’t wait to see where we go as a team in the future.

#teamworl #teamwork #humanrace #stealing #noah #noach #parashatNoach

Look to your left,

You’ll see a snake, it’s long body extends down from a hole in the roof you never noticed before.

Tilt your head to the left and see it tilt its head with you.

Tilt your head to the right, it follows

“Bite the apple, Eve”

“My name’s not Eve” you want to reply, but the sudden weight in your hand stops you, you look down to see a plump red apple, shining in your hand.

“Bite the apple, Eve” the snake teases you

You want to tell it that it's not an apple, that the whole apple imagery is a Christian concept, and that the ‘fruit’ of the tree of wisdom could’ve been a piece of barley for all you know, but you can’t, something about the snake’s hanging presence silences you.

“Bite the apple, Eve” the snake repeats

The smell of an apple crumble, cinnamon and butter reach your nose as you turn the apple around in your hand like a tennis ball.

You haven’t eaten in days and the smell is unbearably good, stuff your no sugar diet, stuff that voice that's telling you no.

You lift it up to your lips.

With the sound of your crunch, the snake and apple disappear and you are left alone, alone with all the new knowledge you now hold.

Alone with the knowledge of perfection and imperfection, alone with the knowledge of consumerism, sexism, racism. Alone with the knowledge that slowly the earth is dying. Alone with the knowledge that you are slowly dying. Alone with the knowledge of all the good deeds in the world. Alone with the knowledge of injustice and justice, war and peace.

You’ve bitten the apple Eve, there’s no undoing that, but now you have the knowledge, so get up and start fixing. Take your new knowledge and use it as a weapon as you fight against all the new evils you’re suddenly aware of.

And if I could make one suggestion, start by fixing the hole in the roof.

#snake #eve #creation #bereshit #apple

Click the image to check out Hieni's 2018 Yom Kippur Publication 'Meafar Kumi', as seen in your local shule these past High Holy Days.

#YomKippur #chinuch

So I’m not saying V’zot Haberacha is the most important parashah in the Torah. That would be crazy. Who am I to judge? I am merely a lowlife university student.

But it is the last parashah, so that’s pretty cool.. It’s the shortest parashah (probably so everyone can get litty for Simchat quicker…). Also, for any of you (ex-)shnattie readers out there, Pharan gets a cheeky mention. But then yeah, Moses becomes a little-bit-mostly-dead. It’s an emotional rollercoaster, lots of exciting stuff, which gets kinda ruined by Moishe’s timely demise at the ripened age of 120. It’s a bit of a bummer note to end the Torah on, tbh. Maybe Simchat Torah is sad drinking, not happy drinking…

Lemme level with you for a second. There’s not a whole lot for me to work with for this parashah. Most of it – in classic Deuteronomy fashion; Deuteronomy literally means repetition of the law – is just spent repeating something said earlier in the Torah, in slightly different words. The rest is Moses’ expiry, burial, consequent mourning etc. So I’m gonna put the actual content of the parashah to the side, and instead focus more on a tenuous thematic connection that better suits my agenda.

The very first sentence of Wikipedia’s page on this parashah goes something like this “[V'Zot HaBerachah] is the 54th and final weekly Torah portion. in the annual Jewish cycle of Torah reading.” Pretty solid introduction, as far as introductions go. But what I really liked was this idea of the ‘annual Jewish cycle.’ Judaism has more than one cycle in it. The Torah-reading cycle, the life cycle, the cycle of the festivals and… well I dunno, maybe a bicycle. No real finality, no real inception. Just ongoing ‘kind-of’ endings leading to ‘not-really’ beginnings. Can you see where I’m going with this?

I’m a bit torn by this methodology. On the one hand, Einstein is famously attributed with saying (although it probably wasn’t really him) “the definition of insanity is doing the same thing over and over and expecting different results.” Conversely, there is something deeply beautiful about the tenacity with which Jews persistently read through those scrolls, week after week after week. Hineni, as it so happens, is a cycle.

You come in as a chanich/a. You grow up a bit and become a mad. Then you grow up a bit more and die or leave Hineni, or something like that (I haven’t quite gotten there yet, so I don’t really know what happens). But those kids you were leading will take your place, and the cycle continues. Hineni as an institution has existed long before our involvement with it, and (believe it or not) will exist long after. It is ongoing, and it is persistent. And sometimes the repetitive slog of weekly programs feels like continually hitting your head against a brick wall, and sometimes it feels like Einstein’s notion of insanity. But it’s pretty cool to be a fairly essential cog in this machine that has given so much to us, and to the wider community.

We’re fast approaching the end of the Hineni year. And for many, that means the end of your Hineni experience. ☹. But your end is just another beginning.

Shabbat Shalom

Jason

#vzothabracha #vetohaberacha #vetohabracha #cycle #year #hineni #madrich #hadracha

If you are or ever have been a youth movement leader, you will know the feeling of a good peula. When the program runs smoothly, the aims are achieved, and the chanichim get what you're talking about.

Thank my lucky stars, our final program for year 11s this term was one of those programs, everything just came together so well. Cudos to Elana Hain who spearheaded writing the peula - it was all about Avraham Infeld’s notion of the 5 legged table. Basically, he's a Jewish educator who has this idea that Judaism is like a five-legged table, each table representing a core Judaic value. While the table is the most sturdy with five legs, it can also survive with four or even three, but on two legs it cannot stand. So in effect, one must subscribe to at least three of the core values, or the table will topple. The five legs are family, covenant, Hebrew, Israel, and memory.

(I know, as if we didn't have enough symbolism in Judaism already.)

He tells a story to explain what he means by memory - Infeld comes from a long line of physicists, but on his first day studying physics at university, a beautiful girl walked across to the History building, and thus he graduated with a masters in Jewish history. He recalls nervously phoning his father to announce he was changing courses, to which his father replied "WHAT?!?!" "They're teaching Jewish History, there's no such thing as Jewish history, there's Jewish memory!"

For this man, the exodus from Egypt was not history, he personally remembered holding his friend's hand as he gazed at the fish in the walls of sea on either side. The giving of the Torah was not history, he remembers picking a flower from har Sinai before running back to his mother to hear, for the first time, the voice of heaven. Due to the 'Phenomenon of Jewish Interconnectedness' (PoJI™), the entire Jewish narrative specifically happened to him, and it happened to us, not them, us.

As Rabbi Sacks puts it, the distinction between History (his story) and memory, is quintessential to the Jewish people. In this week's parasha the Torah implores us to "remember the days of old, consider the years of each generation."

What does it mean, consider the years of each generation?

Surely just saying 'remember the days of old' suffices.

The Menachem Tzion resolves this question by questioning the translation.

He says that the word for years "shonot" should, in fact, be translated into the changes - 'consider the changes for each generation.'

This adds a new level to how we experience the Jewish narrative. Not only must we feel as if we have experienced it, but we must consider the important changes and generational shifts that have occurred throughout the ages. There are significant differences between our community and the Jewish communities in the shtetls or any other Jewish community from another generation. Their challenges and our challenges are very different. By considering the changes in each generation, we find the ability to appropriately respond to the challenges of our modern Jewish community.

So we must hold our narrative in our heart, but not just the superficial narrative, this happened and then that happened. Rather we must understand the changes our nation has gone through, and the events that sparked those changes, so that we can have a greater understanding of our nation today

Shabbat Shalom

Eitan

PS: If you're interested in the concept of the five-legged table, this website is dedicated to the theory: https://5leggedtable.com

As Season Five of 'Days of our Deserts' comes to a close, the main character, Moses (played by Hugh Jackman) stands before the whole ensemble, places his hands on the shoulders of his disciple, Joshua (Zac Efron) and whispers slowly and purposefully "be strong and courageous".

These two words go on to be the tagline for season six; Joshua's season. As credits roll on season 5, the advert for season 6 plays - Joshua emerges from a dark haze, followed by 12,000 warriors to conquer a piece of the land of Israel while the words "be strong and courageous" play as a voiceover. Flash to the walls of Jericho tumbling down - the words "be strong and courageous" flash across the scene. Fade to darkness.

A Midrash (stories that explain the Torah) makes clear that Moses was referring to courage in the form of seeking help. Joshua is not alone in season 6, the elders of Zion are there to assist him in leading the nation (picture Archie from Riverdale backed up by the cast of Golden Girls). They are knowledgeable and have a good understanding of the nation of Israel.

A Mishna (law derived from the oral Torah) brings down that 'the more council, the more the understanding' referring to the fact that when we need to make a decision, seeking out the advice of someone who can see our dilemma from an objective point of view is abundantly helpful. Moses encourages Joshua to seek advice from the elders when he needs it.

Later though, Hashem tells Joshua specifically "you will lead the people", making it clear that Joshua and Joshua alone was chosen to lead this new generation into season 6.

Sure, by now Moses and G-d are like an old married couple, but they aren't usually known to give off two different messages - the one telling Joshua that he is to lead with the elders, the other telling him he is to lead alone.

This is a lesson in decision making. We must have the strength and courage to seek advice, even when it takes a great amount of humility to admit you need help. But the final decision must be made alone and come from within.

Isn't it wonderful when the Torah comes with handy everyday life tips?

Be strong and courageous

Eitan

This Torah portion is incredibly exciting. We are in the book of Devarim. We are nearing the end, the entrance into the land of Israel. Moshe describes the covenant between God and the Israelites. The Parsha begins:

“You stand this day, all of you, before your God — you tribal heads, you elders, and you officials, all the men of Israel, you children, you women, even the stranger within your camp, from woodchopper to water drawer — to enter into the covenant of your God”

Clearly, women are not the tribal heads, elders or officials as they are mentioned separately. The important thing though, is that they are included. The truth is that more often than not, in the Torah it is ambiguous if women are mentioned due to the male default of the Hebrew language. Secondly, this word is often translated as 'your women' meaning that the females belong to their husbands. However, in this passage, it is not only the women who belong to something - also the children, the officials, the strangers, everyone. Everyone in the camp of Israel belongs to each other and is responsible for each other, thus they belong to a web of interconnectedness.

I'm not going to try and convince you that during this time women were seen as anything more than wives and conductors of household like duties (well, as much as could be done in the desert). But what I think is beautiful is that this covenant is not specifically directed at the Jews standing before Moshe on that day.

“It is not with you alone that I am making this sworn covenant, but with whoever is standing here with us today before the Lord our God, and with whoever is not here with us today.”

This last sentence emphasises that the covenant is made for all future descendants. What Moshe says, on that day, he says with little knowledge of what will be of society. He includes future descendants in the covenant and outlines how Jews must behave when they will be living in a completely different world to anything he can try to imagine.

Acceptance for women, the female role in society - that's something that has developed and changed over hundreds of years, relating to the context of the time period. It is weirdly inspiring, comforting and heartwarming to think that as Moshe stood in front of Am Yisrael, looking out onto a future of thousands of years, which will see Jews spread into every corner of the country, study every sort of academia and experience all that the world has to offer, Moshe thought it important to mention women specifically, perhaps as an inkling of the equality which was to come.

Shabbat Shalom and Chag Sameach (its definitely close enough to Chaggim to start saying that)

Bec

I'm not sure if the expression "och" is uniquely South African or a universal term to express dissatisfaction. In any case, the term is used quite frequently:

"Och, I wish the neighbour's dog would hurry up and die already"

"Och, I've run out of toilet paper"

"Och, I wish I didn't have to get out of bed for a glass of water"

"Och, can't the children pick themselves up from school"

"Och, I already have the coles mini Nutella, I was hoping for the dishwasher soap!"

For Bnei Yisrael in Parashat Ki Tavo, their 'och' was:

"Och, why did only the Levites get a Sefer Torah. It's not fair"

Do you see the difference between our och and their och? In fact, because of this special type of och, Moshe rejoices. Now before this whole thing turns into a Dr Seuss from Mochentochen Bloch ramble, let me explain.

Moses rejoices because Am Yisrael has finally begun to complain about big picture ideas and concepts. 40 years after receiving the Torah, they complain bitterly at the thought that one sect of their nation might take ownership of their precious Torah. For a nation that has been known to complain about spiritual-Netflix-rain-food-that-can-taste-like-anything-you-think-of-on-demand (manna), because it couldn't taste like onion or garlic, this is the complaint of the century! Moshe is ecstatic, this time they are complaining because of a real issue that confronts their values, rather than their taste buds.

Rabbi Baruch Mordechai Ezrachi explains that the small things that trouble a person are often the best indicator of their spiritual state. So next time you hear (or say) the word "och", consider what you are complaining about and what that says about you.

Until we kvetch again!

Shabbat Shalom

Eitan

"Tzedek Tzedek Tirdof "- Justice, justice we shall pursue: This is the focal idea of this week's parasha

Is attaining justice realistic?

How long must we struggle through the pursuit?

Is the pursuit of justice or the achievement of justice more important?

Shoftim is a prelude to the month of Elul month of repentance and reflection leading to the Yamim Noraim. This month acts as a greenhouse, nurturing and providing us space to contemplate. It invites us to engage our thoughts on our communal and individual pursuit of justice.

2018 is a time when justice is hard to maintain. By nature, as humans, we can be affluent and materialistic, selfish and needy, sinful and prone to error, yet the responsibility to chase justice is delegated to us.

Justice is abused through social hierarchy and nepotism, the guilty are found innocent and the innocent lack protection. How can justice truly be served for and by a people who are unjust? Moses is aware of the human paradox, remarking that “men [remain] as they are”.

Maybe we are commanded to pursue justice because it is us who need it the most. Or perhaps our long history of oppression has made us sensitive to the idea of justice.

But how long then, how much further is the road to justice? In the eyes of the Torah, Tzedek is not a hypothetical or remote ideal, it is an intimate issue. If it is our duty to create a world of Tzedek, Tzedakah and Tzaddikim, why have we taken thousands of years to barely reach it? It is as if we gather yearly for the Yamim Noraim to attempt the impossible: being forgiven even though we continue to fall short from reaching justice?

Many rabbis and scholars have suggested that attaining a just society is not necessarily our aim in life. They amplify the importance of “Tirdoff” (to pursue), that to fulfil our true nature we must engage with the pursuit of justice, dedicating ourselves to the chase rather than focussing on an end goal. Maybe there is no end to this pursuit?

So how can we pursue justice today? Are we doing the best we can? We teach about charity, we preach moral decisions, we sign petitions, we share videos, we volunteer in youth movements, we educate. Every day we encounter opportunities to act morally, ethically and with good conscience by treating people fairly, giving the benefit of the doubt, standing up against injustice, teaching and exemplifying the right things to do. Although we have a huge challenge ahead of ourselves, we must use Shoftim as a reflection and reminder to have the courage to continue the pursuit, even if it seems remote. Rabbi Tarfon explains “it is not up to you to complete the task, but neither are you free to desist from it”. What can we be doing every day? How can you bring a little more Tzedek into the world?

Shabbat Shalom

Aria Klein

In this weeks Parasha, Hashem tells the Jewish people:

"See (Re'eh), I am sitting before you (lifneichem) on this day, blessings and curses" (11:26)

My mother, who loves to correct my father's spelling and grammar would point out two errors if my dad were to quote the parasha on WhatsApp.

(Why is my dad quoting the parasha on WhatsApp? I don't know. We just came home from Israel - we're desperate for any kind of spirituality, to be honest).

My mum would say that the word 'see' - Re'eh' is superfluous, he could just say 'I am sitting before you', and the requirement of looking is somewhat implied.

Second, she would say that he had used the singular Hebrew grammar for the word Re'eh; see, and the pleural Hebrew grammar for the word Lifneichem; before you.

But now my story is now truly out of proportion because my mum thinks that speaking Hebrew is the same as saying English words is an Israeli accent and that the Hebrew word for tourist was "touristo".

In the parasha, the added word - 'Re'eh' reads to the human condition of missing the blessings that are all around us. We must actively 'see' the goodness around us, or else we might miss it.

As for the singular, pleural mismatch between Re'eh (see) and Lifneichem (before you) - the Kotsker Rebbe points out that many people are inclined to perceive the same gift in different ways (singular object, pleural ways to see what is 'before us'). Consider for example the different ways different people appreciate their parents:

“I believe that what we become depends on what our fathers teach us at odd moments when they aren’t trying to teach us. We are formed by little scraps of wisdom.” ―Foucault’s Pendulum, by Umberto Eco

“My father never loses patience, never doubts or complains, but always hopes, and works and waits so cheerfully that one is ashamed to do otherwise before him.” - Little Women, by Louisa May Alcott

"I am sure that if the mothers of various nations could meet, there would be no more wars." —E.M. Forster, Howard's End

“To describe my mother would be to write about a hurricane in its perfect power. Or the climbing, falling colours of a rainbow.” —Maya Angelou, I Know Why the Caged Bird Sings

All these different ways to appreciate the same simple thing; a parental bond. In the same way, all the good things in the world are differently good to different people, and that, the parasha asserts, is a blessing in itself.

Shabbat Shalom

Eitan

P.S - I may seem a bit 'mummy and daddy' this week, but please appreciate that whilst I may have lived with these two people for the past six months since returning home from Shnat, my greatest conversation with them has been 'What's for dinner?' After spending three solid weeks with them, I have come to remember that they exist.

See you next time a cousin gets married mum and dad ❤️

They came to destroy us. They failed. Let’s eat!

This cycle underpins our very understanding of Judaism.

We proudly boast of our religion centred around food – the caricature of the Jewish mother pictures her feeding three people with two hands, a Jewish grandparent is judged on the quality of their chicken soup.

My family and I are currently in Israel. We have taken the task of sampling everything along the spectrum of Israeli cuisine very seriously.

In many ways, the foodie experience has overshadowed my cousin’s wedding, which I’m pretty sure was the initial reason for the trip.

We’ve eaten at the fishenchips in the Shuk, Jachnun bar, Melach HaFalafel, Crave Restaurant, New Deli, McDonalds, the-classic-icecream-stand-at-the-end-of-the-hike-trail; a tour-de-force of eating like good Jewish men and women, which we plan to bring to a climactic peak at Tmol Shimshol in Jerusalem.

We are happy to brand ourselves as a religion of food, but when it comes to prayer, we are less comfortable with the association. We’d rather be ‘Jews – the people who eat a lot’, than ‘Jews – the people who pray a lot’.

Perhaps there is a reason we feel the Jewish emphasis on food more strongly than its emphasis on prayer.

This week’s parasha contains the origin of the requirement to say Grace After Meals:

“When you will eat, and be satisfied, then you shall bless Hashem, your G-d for the good land which He has given you” (D’varim 8:10)

When one eats a meal with a minyan (ten men), the ‘major zimmun’ prayer is added onto the Grace after meals – however only if seven of those men actually partook in the meal.

The same is not true for prayer – the extra blessings added on for praying with a minyan present require only six of those men to participate in the prayer.

Rabbi Yisroel Salant understands this difference as a message regarding the importance of food. He asserts that it is more important to invite people to eat at your table, to ensure that those around you are fed than to invite your fellow Jews to join you in prayer.

This weekend Hineni madrichim will be on Ideology Sem, where we will come together to discuss our ideology and make sure Hineni is in its best shape for our chanichim, and if I know anything about Hineni, there will be lots of food, and heaps of prayer. Three big meals and lots of snacks in between, combined with three big minyanim a day (Shacharit, Mincha, Ma’ariv), and lots of personal introspection (the equivalent of a snack) in between. I have no doubt that our madrichim will be able to find their spiritual fulfilment in both the prayer and meal times.

So I invite you to rejoice along with the hungry madrichim in our holy relationship with food;

but before you tuck in, make sure the plate next to yours is full as well :)

Shabbat Shalom

Eitan

And we're back!

If you have lost track (I have), we join the Jews as they wander aimlessly through the desert, on their journey to Eretz Israel (#ogzionists). One of the many miraculous occurrences that accompany their journey is the pillars of cloud that raise and lower themselves to indicate when Bnei Yisrael should stop and rest or get up and keep going. However, these clouds demand an erratic travel schedule that does not make a whole lot of sense. The Rambam suggests that when the nation arrived at barren, uninviting areas of the desert, they were forced to stay for many nights, conversely, when they arrived at beautiful stretches of land they got up the next morning to continue their travels. Rav Eliahu Dessler compares this testing travel regime to the nature of external circumstances. We often feel as if we are in our own version of a barren desert, and that just beyond is a beautiful space wherein we can focus on 'the more important things'.

This parasha teaches us that no matter the circumstance we must continue to perform good deeds and engage in worthwhile projects or exercises.

It is likely that I would have benefitted from heeding this lesson a couple of weeks ago, and then perhaps I would not have allowed myself this three-week hiatus from writing the Dvar Torot. "But, I have to do my assignments, focus on Beauty and the Beast (I was involved in a production recently), organise Tikkun Leil, camp is six weeks away!!" - these are the complaints, the barren desert, which made me forget the value of the task I committed myself to at the start of this year.

How apt that this message comes during the week of swat vac (a nasty German word for a week of independent study)* wherein we are compelled to become completely engaged in our university exams and forget our other, more worthwhile, commitments. I hope that we can remember what's important, despite the external circumstances

Shabbat Shalom

Eitan

PS. Camp signups are open, if you or your child has not signed up yet please encourage them to do so - or if you know someone who would be perfect for Hineni do not hesitate to pass on my number (0410 273 843)

*swat vac is probably not a German word, but I allowed myself some poetic license

#desert #schedule #beautiful #barren

I tend to receive a lot of calls during the week, but let me tell you about one of the funnier ones.

My dad called and asked if I wanted to go see Elvis. At first I was like what? When I figured he was talking about an impersonator, not the king of rock himself, my second question was “Is Nicky (my sister) coming?” My third question was, how can I relate this to the parasha? (Obviously)

There is a linguistic redundancy in this week's parsha. In it, Hashem tells Moshe to “Say to the Kohanim, the sons of Aaron, and tell them…”

It seems that the Torah is repeating itself, (“say…tell”), what is the significance of this repetition? A common understanding is that “say” refers to teaching the Kohanim, while “tell” refers to the importance of the kohanim teaching these laws over to their children. This highlights the importance of going above and beyond when we teach our children, and practicing what we preach when telling others to do the same thing.

Now, bringing it back to Elvis whose image lives on today in a way that many other artists do not. He has a huge fan base, and a great amount of people that live their life as his impersonators. These impersonators really embody the character of Elvis and go above and beyond trying to perfect their technique, hair and voice trying to replicate his true image.

In the same way we should try and teach the morals and values of the Torah and embody them completely. Rather than superficially teaching children about the classroom lessons of Judaism, our actions, the way we speak and our choices should embody Judaism, through this, we will truly learn it and teach it to others.

I landed up going to the concert (Nicky came too), to be honest, the guy looked nothing like Elvis, and he seemed a bit old to be doing the ‘jailhouse rock’, but he had a passion for Elvis, that was evident. That’s all we should have, evident passion, no matter if we are as off key as this guy was.

Shabbat Shalom

Sammy ✌️

#elvis #emor #impersinator

"Ooo, she likes to dance with the devil... whoever the devil ma-a-aa-ayyyy be" sings the devil or Daryn Van Horne in the little known musical 'Witches of Eastwick', which I always thought was Witches of Elsternwick, but that's a story for another time. This week I want to talk about the devil's place in Judaism, witches and all things pagan.

In a recent assignment, we were asked to discuss the health beliefs of a particular subgroup in Australia. Instead of calling up AUJS and requesting the prepared essay on all things Jewish (although we are such a wonderful subgroup) I decided to write something on the 8,163 people who identified as Witchcraft practitioners in the most recent Australian census. One of the most interesting things I found in research was the hard work of the contemporary Witchcraft movement to negate stereotypes of devil worship, put aptly by Graham Harvey “We do not worship the Devil... we are not weird”.

But in Judaism, we do! Well, we don't worship the devil, but we definitely believe in one. Its name is Satan (and when you say it out loud, it shouldn't rhyme with my name, it should be more like s-u-tun) and this week's parasha would like to introduce you to it.

The parasha provides a detailed description of the Kohen Gadol's job on Yom Kippur, one of which is to prepare two goats, sacrifice one to G-d and push the other one off the cliff.

Hold on. Pushed off a cliff?! What's so important at the bottom of the cliff that we have to send little bo peep's precious little friend tumbling to meet its dark end there?

Well, the Rambam wants to say that the goat is an offering to Satan so that he will not meddle in the day of Yom Kippur. It is hard to believe that Judaism affirms the existence of the red, pointy eared, spear-tailed devil, and it is unlikely that this is the case. Contemporary commentaries suggest that the Satan lives inside of each person, a manifestation of their bad traits. The imagery of sending a goat to appease the devil sends a powerful message, it is impossible to destroy our inner Satan, to be free of our negative traits, rather we must learn to dance with the devil, to use our bad traits for good. Every negative trait can be used to bring about positive outcomes. Anger can be directed towards the social injustices the good-tempered people of the world are too timid to do anything about. Laziness can stop someone from doing bad deeds. Haughtiness can be channelled into leading others in meaningful pursuits. Instead of fighting these inner devils we must harness them for good.

Shabbat Shalom

Eitan

This week I don't want to discuss the parasha, I'm sorry and I hope the parasha forgives me. I want to discuss the past ten days.

The past ten days are the first time since shnat when I've missed Israel. Of course, I've missed Israel before, for the first two weeks here I walked around like a fish out of water, wondering where all these straight lines came from, why everyone was following so many rules, and why I couldn't eat anything I wanted any more. Those feelings never left me, but that was just me missing superficial elements of my holiday destination. But the past ten days, I really missed Israel.

The days from Yom Hashoa to Yom Hazikaron are known as the Aseret Yemei Tkuma - עשרת ימי תקומה. As a nation, the people of Israel navigate a harrowing emotional timeline, mourning for those we lost in the past during Yom Hashoa, mourning those we lost in recent history and continue to lose during Yom Hazikaron and ultimately celebrating the gift of the state of Israel during Yom Haatzmaut. Last year I experienced the unity as the large majority of the nation experiences these emotions as one. No one was worrying about uni assignments or midsemester tests.

But this year I was. This year, while my country mourned its lost soldiers I missed my communal tekes to study for a biology exam. On Yom Haatzmaut, after spending the night driving around Carlyle street with 'Static and Ben El' blasting out the windows (which garnered some strange looks from construction workers) I went to uni, to learn about the thalamic region of the spine (don't ask me what it is, because I don't know). I spent my day discussing how 'stressful' all these assignments are with people who don't know the difference between the Israeli flag and the North Melbourne football team flag.

This is not to say that the Melbourne Jewish Community didn't honour the Aseret Yemei Tkuma, but no amount of tekesim, carnivals at racecourses or flash mobs at fed square, can replicate the full-time emotional journey of these days in Israel. This is not to say that I am not thankful for my free(ish) tertiary education in Australia, but during these days I truly understood the word 'galus'

'Galus', that chasideshe word for exile. These past few weeks I felt what it meant to be exiled from where one is meant to be.

I put myself at your mercy for being so unapologetically zionist #sorrynotsorry

Shabbat Shalom

Eitan