This year, as I write a "vort" (religious discourse) on the "parshat hashavua" (the weekly reading from the Torah) for "Tzav", I am struck by some ideas in "parshat Tzav" and how they relate to the idea of "Dayenu" (It is enough for us; a traditional Passover song).

Our "parsha" opens with "Hashem" (God) speaking to Moshe saying "Command Aaron and his sons, saying", in relating to Moshe the law of the "Olah" (the burnt offering). The Sages explain that the more emphatic term "Tzav", command, implies that the "Kohanim" (priests) are being urged to be especially zealous in performing this service and that this exhortation must be repeated constantly to future generations ("Sifra Kiddushin").

"Lilmoad Ul’lamed "speaks of the word "Tzav", Command, as being "deliberately expressed in a form that can refer to both the past and the future." In other words, the commandments of "Hashem" are as applicable today as when "Hashem" first told them to "Moshe Rabbeinu". Torah’s laws are not outmoded. The rules governing man’s devotion to "Hashem" are timeless. Consequently, our observance of Torah should not be tired and listless and we should not mumble and stumble through our "tefillos" (prayers) out of habit.

I perceive that this exhortation of "Tzav" speaks not only about prayer, i.e., mumbling or racing to break "the two-hour barrier" on "Shabbat", but signifies observance of every aspect of Torah, both letter and spirit - to intensify our "derech" (path in Torah) and purify our performance of "mitzvot". Our "tefillah" and "mitzvot" should always be as if fresh and brand new.

The "parsha" then details various other "korbonot" - the guilt offering, the thanksgiving offering, the donation offering, the inauguration offering. Then, Torah mentions the "B’nai Yisrael" (Children of Israel) six times regarding the offerings, what "Hashem" takes from the offerings and regarding the inaugural offering, when anointing Aharon and his sons as "Kohanim".

As "perek" (chapter) 8 begins, the "B’nai Yisrael" are mentioned yet a seventh time - this time not as "B’nai Yisrael", but as "HaEidah HaKahal" (the entire assembly). Both words are language used for "assembly" and we learn that when "Hashem" wants to emphasize a point, he utilizes repetition, i.e. "speak to... saying..." "Hashem" tells Moshe to take Aharon and his sons, the "B’gadim Kehunah" (priestly vestments), the anointing oil, the bull of the sin-offering, two rams and a basket of "matzos". "Hashem" tells Moshe to "Gather the entire assembly ("HaEidah HaKahal") to the entrance of the Tent of Meeting ("Ohel Mo’ed")." There Moshe anoints and inaugurates Aharon and his sons as "kohanim" and dresses Aharon in his priestly garments. The offerings are brought and Moshe tells the "kohanim" to remain at the "Ohel Mo’ed" for seven days to learn the "Avodah" (Temple service).

I perceive a significance to the six references to "B’nai Yisrael" and a seventh reference to them, this time as "HaEidah HaKahal". I equate the six mentions of "B’nai Yisrael" with the six days of the week when the "B’nai Yisrael" function each for himself, for his family. Yet, when the entire nation is together on this seventh day, they are as one, in unity.

We tend to function, each in our own domain. We operate out of expediency - in "davening" (praying), at the place of business, dealing with our families. We, in our autos, speed past our brother who has his finger out. We see our brother running to catch a bus and don’t make an effort, on his behalf, to get the driver to wait that extra second. Instead we give our brother a blank countenance. We are not totally forthcoming and truthful with our brother concerning the facts of a business or banking transaction often putting "obstacles in the way of the blind" as we grub for that last shekel at the other guy’s expense. We give and take bribes, at all levels, if it’ll increase our personal influence or our position at "the bottom line." We are totally blase our Land - "Eretz Yisrael". Each group has an agenda working against every other group.

I hold that the purity and freshness our performance of "mitzvot" and our unity is directly related to "Dayenu". If our "tefillah" is real and genuine, if we treat our brother as we would want to be treated ourselves and if we finally believe in the ultimate truth of the unity of "B’nai Yisrael" in "Eretz Yisrael", we will then bring the "Geula Shlaima", the Ultimate Redemption. No more "Dayenu".

Have a "Chag Kosher V’Sameach".

A portion of the Torah reading of Pinchas is read on the days of every major holiday of the Jewish calendar. This Pinchas reading always forms the "maftir" - the additional reading for the day. And it is also read from a second, different Torah scroll than the main reading of the day that describes the holiday itself. The obvious and correct reason for this use of the "parsha" of Pinchas on the holidays is because the special additional Temple service and sacrifice - the "musaf" of the day for each of the holiday days of the Jewish year - is recorded and described there. In a Jewish world, now far removed from the Temple service and alien to the cosmic reasons for animal sacrifices, this entire additional reading ("maftir") strikes as foreign, strange and irrelevant. However, there perhaps may lie within these "maftir" readings an important and valuable lesson for ourselves, one that has survived the destruction of the Temple and the consequent suspension of the "musaf" sacrifice itself.

The rabbis of Israel have always warned their flock that there are no easy victories in life. This is certainly true in all realms of daily physical life, but it is even more appropriate and definitive in matters of the spirit and the soul. One of the cruelest hoaxes that the modern, progressive, socially-correct but spiritually-empty, forms of Judaism have perpetrated on their hapless and ignorant constituents is that religion, and especially Judaism, makes no hard demands on its believers. The portrayal of Judaism as a feel-good, guitar playing, kumsitz-type of liberal, secular humanist faith is a travesty and a tragedy. The synagogue was never meant to be a place of comfort, but rather one of challenge and goal seeking. The Sabbath and the holidays are days of spirit that have to be earned - that require sacrifice and effort and preparation. They are not cheaply obtained.

The rabbis of the Talmud stated: "Torah is as expensive and difficult to acquire as vessels of gold, and it is as fragile and as easily shattered as the thinnest crystal glass." Thus, on the holidays of the Jewish calendar, Jewish tradition demands that we read of the sacrifices that were part of the Temple service in order to remind us of the sacrifices necessary from us in order to achieve an inner appreciation of the holidays and their meaning. The concept of sacrifice as described in the Torah relating to the Temple service, is, according to the insight of Rabbi Moses ben Nachman (Ramban), to impress upon us the idea of self-sacrifice for the Torah and God of Israel.

Thus, on the easiest and most enjoyable days of the Jewish year, the holidays, we are nevertheless bidden to remember the constant cost involved in remaining a Jew and in achieving the spiritual pleasure and meaning that the holidays invariably bring with them. We can therefore return to examine and understand why these portions of Torah sacrifices were specifically placed in the "parsha" of Pinchas. For is not Pinchas, in his heroism, courage, selflessness and denial of self-interest, the epitome of sacrifice, both physically and spiritually? The Lord Himself recognizes Pinchas´ act of sacrifice and extends to him and his descendants the eternal spiritual blessings of peace, harmony and Godly service. These blessings, as we all know from our own personal life-experiences, are not easily obtained. But Pinchas, the champion of sacrifice, has earned them and will be able to maintain them throughout Jewish history. Every day that we give ourselves over to God´s service, that we willingly sacrifice our time, talents, energies and wealth in His cause, is a holiday. The attitude of sacrifice ennobles our days and makes us a special people - a kingdom of priests and a holy nation.

CHUKAT - Being able to enter into the Land of Israel and dwell there permanently is not an easy achievement. It is not easy today to integrate one´s self into modern-day Israel, even if somehow one accomplishes "making aliyah." There is obviously a wealth of factors that are factored into one´s decision and actions regarding moving to Israel. But the Torah teaches us that coming to Israel is dependent upon heavenly approval as well.

There have been many great, brave, pious, stoutly determined Jews who have attempted to arrive in the Land of Israel and failed in that attempt. In the past centuries, some of the greatest leaders of the Jewish people, such as Rabbi Elijah of Vilna (the Gaon of Vilna), Rabbi Yisrael Meir HaCohen Kagan of Radin (the Chofetz Chaim) and Rabbi Naftali Zvi Yehuda Berlin (the Netziv) among others, attempted to leave their Eastern European exile and move to the Land of Israel and failed to realize their goal. Heaven seemingly always intervened to deny them the realization of this life-long, fiercely held dream. Heaven always has its own inscrutable calculations and has the last word on the matter. This is certainly obvious from the narrative that appears in the Torah reading of Chukat.

Moshe is denied entry into the Land of Israel by God. His striking the rock at Meriva instead of speaking to it as God had instructed him is the proximate cause for his punishment of being excluded from leading the People into the Land of Israel. How this apparently severe punishment fits the transgression of Moshe, is the subject of much discussion among the commentators to the Torah. But, however we will resolve this matter of crime and punishment, transgressions and retribution, the basic fact of the Torah remains - Moshe was prevented by Heaven from realizing his goal of entering the Land of Israel. And Moshe´s tragic disappointment led to dramatic consequences for all of Jewish and world history.

Midrash teaches us that if Moshe, instead of Yehoshua, had led the people of Israel into the Land of Israel, the Jewish people would never have been exiled from the Holy Land. Another, more deadly and dreaded heavenly punishment would have then been devised to punish Israel for its sins. And, according to this line of interpretation, this fact was also taken into consideration in the heavenly decision to bar Moshe from entering the Land of Israel. Thus, it is not only the merits of Moshe that decided the issue but other variables, unconnected to his direct behavior, also played a role in the sad result. Probably the same type of insight and logic can be applied to the failures of other great Jews to achieve their dream of returning personally to Zion and Jerusalem. Heaven, from its eternal point of vantage, intervened to thwart their hopes, but perhaps that was somehow for the benefit of the people and Land of Israel in the long run.

Man proposes but God disposes. Yet man must always continue to propose and attempt. If Heaven decrees otherwise, that in no way frees us from our responsibilities to struggle to achieve the dream of the Jewish ages - Zion and Jerusalem rebuilt, secure, faithful and strong, and teeming with Jews. It is therefore mysterious, if not downright disappointing, that millions of Jews have not attempted to avail themselves of the opportunity to pursue their dream of entering the Land of Israel in a more meaningful, concrete, practical fashion. Every day when I walk in the streets of Jerusalem, I remind myself that I am doing what the great Moshe was forbidden from doing - living in the Land of Israel. Why God has allowed me, and millions of my fellow-Jews to enjoy what Moshe could not, is beyond me. But I thank Him daily for so doing.

BALAK - This past century, the bloodiest in all of human history, should have lain to rest two of the most cherished theories about mankind postulated by the Enlightenment and Secular Humanism. One was the idea that all moral questions, all issues of right and wrong, good and evil, were subject to being correctly decided on the basis of man´s reason alone, without the necessity (better put, without the interference) of divine revelation or organized religion. Man, and man alone, would be the final and autonomous arbiter of morality. This idea brought with it, as a necessary corollary, the firm belief that man left to his own reasoning devices would invariably choose to do what is right, what promotes life and fairness and the common good.

This second idea of man´s innate choice of goodness was aided and abetted by an arrogant belief that an educated person was more likely to do good than an illiterate one - that a Ph.D. graduate would be less likely to kill, harm, maim and destroy than a poor, hardscrabble, backwards farmer. But none of these theories have proven true. Hitler, Stalin, Mao, Pol Pot, Milosevic and the entire slew of other murderers of the 20th century have all given the lie to these fantasies about human morality and rectitude. One-third of all of the commandants of the Nazi death camps held either a Ph.D. or M.D. degree. Man, left to his own reason, will not choose right. Reason, by itself, is death and destruction, oppressive theories and murderous social engineering. No faith and no belief have led us to the brink of the social abyss of self-destruction.

Our society hungers for a return to self, to a system of eternal values, to a disciplined life-style and to the true liberty of faith, which will free us from the ills of mindless conformity.

Balak and Bilaam, the two main characters in the Torah reading of this week are powerful, respected, intelligent people. Bilaam even possesses the gift of divine intuition and prophecy. But they are base, evil and immoral people. They are so convinced of their own powers, of their own ability to reason correctly, that they are convinced that they can hoodwink God and destroy the Jewish people, all without consequence to themselves. They exhibit all of the immoral traits of the dark side of human behavior - greed, corruption, jealousy, foul speech and causeless hatred. But their worst trait is arrogance - they know better, they are better, they deserve better. And the People of Israel, and through it, the God of Israel and His divine Torah, apparently stands in their way. So, denying God and destroying the People of Israel will somehow improve the world. We have seen the genocidal plan of Balak and Bilaam take on the flesh of reality in this past century as well. We now know how dangerous such people are.

But many, and especially, inexplicably many Jews, are loath to relinquish the good old theories of the Enlightenment. And that is a truly sad and dangerous error. Jewry needs a healthy dose of realism and should forsake many of the utopian, naive and dangerous beliefs and theories that have characterized our journey in the modern world over the past two centuries. We should never forget that Balak and Bilaam are unfortunately real. But so is our faith and tradition.

Italian-born author Umberto Eco, 70, is best known for his 1980 blockbuster novel The Name of the Rose, which sold nine million copies.

But in addition to his semi-popular fiction, Eco is also respected for his non-fiction work, as well as for his work as a medievalist, linguist and master of the admittedly arcane field of semiotics - the theoretical study of signs, semantics and meanings.

Eco was in Jerusalem this week to receive a Ph.D from the Hebrew University - his 24th honorary doctorate. I caught up with him in the lovely garden of the King David Hotel.

What are you reading at the moment? - I read many things at a time. On the plane here - a biography of Geronimo Cardano, the Renaissance sorcerer. Another book I’m reading is a new anthology of analytic philosophy.

But as an academic, I wind up reading less and less of what I want to read and more and more doctoral dissertations and colleagues’ work.

Do books have a future in the Internet age? - I believe in books. In fact, I just established a masters degree program in publishing at the University of Bologna. Publishing houses will exploit new technologies. But the book is still the most economic way to convey information. And books, unlike computers, don’t crash or get viruses.

Jewish mysticism plays a role in Foucalt’s Pendulum. One of the character’s, Diotallevi, who is non-Jewish, is a student of Kabbala. Where does your interest in Jewish mysticism come from? - Diotallevi is in a way a real character. He’s a mixture of two people. One was a friend of mine who now teaches Bible at a university. He has the most Talmudic mind I ever met.

Because of my interest in semiotics, I read books by people like Gershom Scholem, and at one point I got in touch with Moshe Idel at the Hebrew University. I started to become fascinated by the real semiotic side of Kabbala.

So step by step, even without knowing Hebrew, I became more and more interested - not for mystical reasons but for linguistic reasons. I found this way of thinking very close to certain of my interests such as word plays, permutations, and anagrams.

Your latest novel Baudolino is due out soon in English. What is it about? - Once again, I was interested in Jewish folklore. All the characters in the book are comic. One character is a rabbi who joins a group of Italian and French Christians who are going to discover the land of Prester John (a mythical Christian king of an African country, also home to the lost 10 tribes).

Then I discovered that in the Jewish tradition there was a similar story! There was a man called Eldad who talked of a similar kingdom containing the dispersed tribes of Israel.

My character goes with his friends to rediscover the tribes. But, according to the Hebrew legend, in between there was the River Sambatyon. The river is made of rocks, not water, and flows without pause.

The river stops once a week, but unfortunately on Saturday. My character, Rabbi Salomon, is the only Jew to have crossed the river on Saturday because his friends hit him and put him on a horse to make the crossing.

You’ve given much thought to issues of war and peace... - My thinking these days is that the dream of universal peace is probably a utopia. Instead, we have to work at establishing local peace - a step-by-step patchwork of band-aids.

Moreover, I don’t believe that philosophers can give answers to the great problems of our times. Philosophers specialize in discussing problems for which there are no answers.

It is sometimes an intellectual duty to say that there are no solutions; otherwise, you are cheating.

What’s the mood in Europe? Is fascism a growing threat? - The new forms of intolerance are different from the old ones. They are more dangerous because we still use the old parameters of fascism, and we get it wrong.

In Italy there is a new form of corporatist government in which media tycoons govern through control of the media. It’s a phenomenon that requires new political definitions.

If you call them Fascists you miss the point - you have the picture of your old enemy, and in a way you are consoled because you know him.

Racism in Europe today has nothing to do with Nazi-type racism.

We are facing an enormous phenomenon of migration [into Europe]. It produces racist reactions, for example on the part of poor people who are most affected by the transformation of society. If you ask them, they will say ‘we are not Fascist.’

And in fact they are not by the old definition.

You may know the old story about the fellow who travels to another town to pay a surprise visit to his old friend, the Chazan. As he enters the town and begins to inquire where his friend lives, he encounters the strangest responses. Says the butcher gruffly: "Don´t you talk to me about that Chazan!" Says a passer-by: "Don´t ever mention that name to me!" (and spits on the ground three times) Even the rabbi is incensed about the man: "Any friend of the Chazan should be put in Cherem (excommunication)!"

Completely bewildered, the man wanders through the streets and then, by sheer luck, spots the Chazan walking. Running over to him, he says, "Tell me, my friend: You must be very, very highly paid to stay in this town."

"Not really," shrugs the Chazan. "The pay is actually quite poor. I stay for

one reason only: the kavod (honor)!"

In our Sedra, Korach starts a major rebellion against Moshe and Ahron and, by extension, against Hashem Himself. Korach mouths all kinds of high-minded reasons for the attack - "the leadership should be chosen by democratic means," "Every Jew is equally holy," etc. - but his prime motivation, say the Sages, boils down to just one desire: Honor. Pure, unmitigated kavod.

Maybe Korach thought that being the leader was a fast-track to riches, glory, power, stature. Maybe Korach felt being at the top meant that everyone would hang on to his every syllable and that his opinion would be the most valued in the Land. Wow! Did he ever have a cockeyed view of what being a Jewish leader is all about.

Korach should have learned from the example of Moshe. Moshe never wanted to be King; he resisted the throne with all his might. And when the mantle was thrust upon him, Moshe complained bitterly that this was "no job for a Jewish boy." The hours, the pressure, the thanklessness of it all. "What I lack in pay," Moshe would have said, "I make up for in aggravation." Like Golda Meir, who was the "Prime Minister of 3 million Prime Ministers", Moshe - the great Flight Controller - had to coordinate the ego trips of a whole people.

When Moshe asks the rebels to relent, they cryptically answer, "Even if you gouge out our eyes, we won´t go with you!" Their Freudian slips were showing: They were, indeed, completely blind as to what being a true leader is all about. Not glory, but giving. Not pride, but purpose. Korach and his cronies may have craved honor, but they were anything but honorable mentschen.

Arutz Sheva News Service

Background - The Haftorah that is read in Israel this week is from the Book of Judges, Chap. 11:1-33. Yemenite Jews read Chap.11:1-40. Yiftach (Jephthah) was born to Gilead of the tribe of Menashe. The text states that his mother was a zonah, which the commentaries interpret to mean either a harlot, a concubine or an innkeeper.

Summary - The Haftorah begins by relating that Yiftach was a man of valor. His father was Gilead, and his mother was a zonah (see above), so when he grew older, his stepbrothers threw him out, because his mother was not Gilead’s wife. Yiftach fled to a land called Tov, where a group of men gathered around him and he became their leader. Then, some time later, the nation of Ammon waged war against Israel, and the elders sought out Yiftach, whom they implored to return and lead the army. Yiftach rebuked them, pointing out that they had done nothing when his stepbrothers had thrown him out, but now that they were in trouble, they turned to him for help. The elders replied that this was why they (rather than a messenger) had come to seek his assistance, as they regretted what they had done. Yiftach agreed to their request and was appointed chief over them, as well as head of the army.

He immediately dispatched messengers of peace to the Ammonite king, seeking to dissuade him from waging war. But the king demanded the return of the cities that Israel had captured 300 years earlier, after it had left Egypt and was preparing to enter the Land of Israel. Yiftach replied that Israel taken nothing from the Ammonites, reminding the king that these areas had actually been captured from Sichon the king of the Emorites (who had taken them previously from the Ammonites). "And now that the L-rd, the G-d of Israel, has driven out the Emorites from before his people Israel - you wish to possess it?¼ . that which the L-rd our G-d has driven out before us, we shall possess it," (Chap. 11:23-24) Yiftach told the Ammonite king. But the king refused to heed Yiftach’s words. The Haftorah then says that the spirit of G-d was upon Yiftach and he took the war to the enemy’s land. He then made a vow to G-d that if he would defeat Ammon, then the first thing to pass through his doorway to greet him upon his return would be offered as a sacrifice. Yiftach proceeded to overcome the Ammonites, because G-d delivered them into his hands. The Haftorah closes by stating that Yiftach’s victory over Ammon was extensive and Ammon was subdued.

Learning From History - After Yiftach is appointed by the elders as their leader, he sends a messenger of peace to the king of Ammon, asking, "What is between me and you that you have come to me to fight in my land?" (Chap. 11:12) The king replies that he wants Israel to turn over to him the territory they had conquered centuries before, telling the messenger, "Because Israel took away my land when they came out of Egypt, from Arnon and up to the Jabok, and up to the Jordan. And now, return them in peace." (Chap. 11:13) Yiftach replies with a detailed account of what had occurred, correcting the Ammonite king’s version of events and pointing out that Israel captured the land in question from Sichon the Emorite king (who had previously taken it from the Ammonites), and that it had been won only after Israel came under attack and was forced to defend itself.

Rabbi Yehuda Shaviv, in his book Bein Haftorah LeParsha, says that "the possibility of conceding [the land] does not even enter the minds of Yiftach and the Children of Israel. For although Israel had no intention at the time of capturing the territory – and had Sichon [king of the Emorites] acceded to their request and permitted them to pass through his land, it would not have been captured – once he [Sichon] went out to meet them in battle, his land was taken, and it was through a defensive war." Thus, we see that Yiftach was laying the intellectual groundwork for justifying Israel’s continued possession of the territory, justifying it as an acquisition that came in a war of self-defense. Yet, the bottom line, as Yiftach makes clear, is far more compelling: "that which the L-rd our G-d has driven out before us, we shall possess it." (Chap. 11:23-24) In other words, the Land in question belongs to the Jewish people because G-d has given it to them.

The Lesson - Knowledge of history is essential to effectively defending Israel’s position and image. As we saw above, some 300 years had passed since Israel had captured the territory that the Ammonite king sought to regain. Thus, in his message to Yiftach, the Ammonite king sought to distort what had occurred, playing on the natural human tendency to forget. He falsely claimed that Israel had seized the land directly from his people (rather than from the Emorites), implying that Israel was illegally "occupying" territory it had taken in an alleged act of aggression. By rebutting the Ammonite king’s claims with a history lesson, Yiftach was setting the record straight, because he reminded everyone of the true circumstances surrounding Israel’s control over those areas. He was also teaching later generations of Jews a lesson as well – namely, that the truth is on our side, and we should not hesitate to use it.

By telling the Ammonite king that Israel would hold on to the territory it had inherited because "that which the L-rd our G-d has driven out before us, we shall possess it", Yiftach was unabashedly telling the world that as strong as our historical case might be, our claim to this Land ultimately rests on a far deeper and more compelling truth – that the Creator of the Universe has given it to us, the Jewish people. That which He has given to us, we shall not readily give away. May Israel learn from Yiftach’s courageous example.

Rabbi Stewart Weiss

There are three seemingly distinct themes in our Sedra:

First is the Para Aduma, the Red Heifer used to atone for Tumah (spiritual impurity) that comes from a dead body. Then comes the incident of Mai M´riva, where Moshe (and Aharon) strike the rock rather than speak to it, resulting in their being denied entrance to Eretz Yisrael. Finally, there is the story of the fiery serpents, sent to bite Am Yisrael for complaining, later to become a symbol of healing, still used today by the medical world.

What connects these disparate incidents, and why are they bunched together into one sedra called Chukat?

I suggest that these three subjects have a common message. Each is telling us that purity, life and healing may very well derive from the most unlikely of sources, from the wellsprings of impurity, lifelessness and disease. The ashes of the Red Heifer purify anyone who has become tamei. But those same ashes - which, after all, come from the dead body of a cow – are themselves tamei (impure), contaminating whoever administers them. The water - without which there can be no life - came out of a rock, which is the epitome of lifelessness. And the snake - always a negative symbol – was somehow transformed into the means by which we were cured.

Hashem´s message in all this is to teach us that, in His cosmic plan of things, the good, the holy and the pure often originate in the most unlikely and negative of sources. From Terach the idol-worshipper came Avraham, the true believer. From Balak the Bad came Ruth the Righteous. From the nations of the world came Israel. And from Olam Hazeh, with all its many faults, comes Olam Haba.

Moshiach, too, is hardly a product of pure yichus (lineage): Yakov married two sisters (against Torah law); Tamar disguised herself as a prostitute; Ruth derived from an incestuous relationship; David was branded a mamzer. Had we written the story, we surely would have "sanitized" the blood-line, but Hashem knows better. "The richest fruits," explains the Gemara, "come out of the blackest dirt." In medical terms, the cure for the disease (e.g., flu) comes from the disease itself.

Why it works this way is indeed a chok to us. Yet, it gives us hope that just when things look the bleakest, that is precisely when Redemption is at hand.

Arutz Sheva News Service

Something seems to be terribly wrong. What can we do? Nobody wants this situation to continue. The conflict in Israel grows more dangerous day by day. What have our people done before us in times of distress?

This is not the first time we are facing an enemy who wants to exterminate us from the earth. The spirit of Amalek was the driving force for the Nazis. Even our holy Seder night was recently violated, with the killing of 27 innocent civilians as they were celebrating the Passover at a hotel in Netanya. We have helplessly been witnessing daily funerals, tears and anger. The lives of people who should have been building their future, supporting their families, sharing their joy with the living have been lost. Now, they are gone – so many. Too many of our people have already paid with their lives. For what? To atone for our sins.

Rabbi Aryeh Kaplan writes in his book Handbook of Jewish Thought, "There are four types of atonement given to us by God: Repentance, Yom Kippur, suffering and death." Even when a wicked person is murdered or executed all his sins are atoned for, even without repentance and confession, because of the anguish and terror of such a death. Therefore even an apostate who meets such a death should be treated like the righteous.

How much atonement do we need before we are worthy of divine intervention? How long will this bloodshed continue? Is there anything I can do, as a regular believing Jew, to speed up the redemption, to bring God’s help and guidance closer to us? Rabbi Kaplan writes, "A person can avert suffering by the hand of God by imposing it upon himself in the form of fasting." The prophet Joel (2:12-13) says: "Yet even now, says God, you must return to Me with all your heart, with fasting, with weeping and with lamentation. Tear your hearts, not your clothing and return to God your Lord, for He is kind and merciful, slow to anger and great in love, forgiving evil." Fasting can take the place of suffering, strengthening the spiritual in man.

My dear fellow Jews, I have been asking myself, what should I do? Can any of us bear the news of more people being murdered for being Jewish? We are facing a dangerous moment. We can no longer pretend life is normal. It is not business as usual anymore. We are adding tehillim (Psalms) to our prayers, we are davening (praying) with greater devotion. This is all good. Is there anything else we can do?

Not long ago, we celebrated Purim. When Queen Esther and Mordechai realized the immediate danger to their people, they decided to prepare themselves with fasting and prayer. As we know, the outcome was very successful. Our goal of victory and success today must be higher than the mere absence of violence. Ultimately, we want to understand what Hashem is trying to tell us.

I believe that they all my brothers and sisters who are being murdered for being Jewish bring atonement for our nation. If we can contribute to this atonement with our fasting, which is nothing in comparison, but still pleasing to God, then we might save somebody’s life. We can accept a small part of the suffering on ourselves.

Our fasting will be a prayer for repentance in our personal life and in the life of our people. It will be a prayer of strength and courage in our spiritual life. It will be a prayer of work and parnassa (livelihood) for all. It will be a prayer for the ingathering of all our people, the restoration of prophecy, the sending of Eliyahu, harbinger of the Moschiach. A prayer for deliverance and redemption. Our fasting will be like a red line underlining all our daily prayers to make sure it will come to the attention, so to speak, of God Almighty. At this difficult moment, when nobody seems to have the answer as to what to do, we can add these days of fasting as a prayer for guidance and wisdom for our leaders and unity for our people, as well.

There is a tradition saying that if every Jew would repent and turn to God, even for a single day, the redemption would immediately come. Why wait? We read in the Book: "If My people shall humble themselves, pray, seek My face, and turn from their evil ways, then I will hear from heaven, I will forgive their sin and heal their land." (2 Chronicles7: 14)

I am looking forward to redemption.

The name of the holiday in the title of this article sounds a bit strange. Yet, it appears in the Passover Haggadah of the "Rasag", Rabeinu Sa’adia Gaon, one of the great Gaonim who lived after the period in which the Talmud was written. He used the name "Chag HaHashmada" - The Holiday of Destruction, in reference to the Seventh Day of Passover. And indeed, after a little thought, the reason for such a name is simple: The seventh day of Passover was the day when the Egyptians were drowned in the Red Sea, and for this a "Yom Tov" was set down. Thus, the name: The Holiday of Destruction.

As simple as this might seem, in these days it is not simple at all. It has become popular to cite a source called ""Midrash Harneinu", which does not exist today but is brought down by a few "Achronim", where it says that we say only half a "Hallel" on Passover, because when the Almighty drowned the Egyptians, He said, "the works of My hands are drowning in the sea, and you sing a song?" But those who quote this source to prove that according to the Torah we should not rejoice when our enemies are defeated are mistaken.

The name which Rabeinu Sa’adia Gaon gives for this day sheds a great deal of light on the essence of what the seventh day of Passover is all about. In other words, not only did the drowning of the Egyptians not take away from the "simcha" (joy) of the holiday, but quite the contrary - the very essence of the seventh day of Passover is the joy and grattitude for saving us by drowning the Egyptians.

Let us note: Why was the seventh day of Passover set down as a "Yom Tov" festival, and not another day of "Chol HaMoed", as the seventh day of Succot was? The answer is, that on the seventh day of Passover, we celebrate a very special "Yom Tov", because it is the day in which the Egyptians, who came to wipe us out, were drowned in the sea. If so, then obviously for one to say that it is forbidden to rejoice over the drowning of the Egyptians is a contradiction of terms! On the contrary, the day was set down as a "Yom Tov" only because of the drowning of the Egyptians.

In the Talmud, we find the explanation why only half a "Hallel" is said. It is explained in Tractate "Arachin" (10) that: "The sacrifices are not divided up." In other words, in contrast to "Succot" where each day a different number of sacrifices are brought which demonstrates the uniqueness of each and every day (and so on each day we say "Hallel"), on Passover, the same number of sacrifices are offered each day, and so there is no need to say the complete "Hallel", which corresponds to the sacrifices, other than the first day. We are still left with the question concerning the saying: "the works of My hands are drowning in the sea, and you want to sing a song?", which indeed is brought down in the Talmud (though not in any connection to "Hallel") in Tractate "Sanhedrin" (39). If one reads the entire passage, he will see that G-d did not want the angels to sing for the drowning of the Egyptians!

Two more points on this subject:

• Attention must be paid to the fact that the continuation (the next sentence) of the same Talmud says: "He (G-d) is not happy, but He commands others (Israel) to be happy." In other words, only G-d is not happy, since He cannot be joyful that he is forced to destroy the works of His hands, but He demands of us that we rejoice over the destruction of the enemies of Israel, which is a "Kiddush Hashem." The fact is, Israel certainly did sing the great song which we all know - the song of the sea - which we recite every morning.

• Other parallel "midrashim" teach us that G-d’s words concerning the people drowning in the sea were referring to the Jews, who at that moment were crossing the sea and had not yet been saved. This becomes clear after seeing "midrashim" which say: "Yisrael was in trouble in the sea" ("Tanchuma"), or "My hosts are in trouble" ("Shmot Raba", 23).

In any case, the point is clear that the entire "Yom Tov" of the seventh day of Passover is for the drowning of the evil enemy, which is a "Kiddush Hashem", as it says in the "Mechilta": "When the Almighty punishes the wicked, His name is made Great and Holy."

It’s plain and simple: The situation that "Klal Yisrael" (the Entirety of Israel) is facing is a horrific one. We spend much of our time "davening" (praying), reciting chapters of "Tehilim" (Psalms) and learning Torah, but what are our intentions, goals, motives and incentives? What do we hope to achieve?

Are uncertainties and fears the only reasons driving our passion so intensely? What if life was good, nobody was dying and times were only joyous, then would the world run to "daven", recite chapters of "Tehilim" and learn Torah with that same sense of flair, that same expression of eagerness? I would love to think so. Each and every one of us has a prediction and explanation to offer behind the disastrous stream of events. Through our insights, we hope to gain some control over the situation. Who in their right mind is in the position to claim that they know the reasons for why our nation is suffering? We need to come to terms with the fact that there are some things in this world that we are never going to know and this is just another drop in the bucket. Though we cannot validly provide reasons, we continue to do so anyway. We are aware that we cannot sit back and do nothing, so, where does that leave us? Good question. I’ve been unsuccessfully trying to come up with an answer for months now.

I have no answers and no hardcore solutions, but I have an insight that I would like to offer.

Throughout "Tanach" (the Bible), we see that "Hashem" expresses a much greater interest in gifts that are given to Him backed and cushioned with love, as opposed to gifts that are practically thrown in His face, that are severely lacking in the sincerity department. We speak of this concept in relation to "korbanot" (sacrifices) and, though we are not permitted to offer sacrifices today, I think the message behind the act of giving "korbanot" is an obvious one. "Hashem" does not want our animals, He wants our relationship. He wants us to admire Him, to serve Him out of love, to be filled with awe at His mysticism, but most importantly He wants us. If we only cry to Him when things don’t go our way, then what kind of relationship are we demonstrating here? G-d is not someone we can bargain with and come to know only when we need Him to give us gifts. The Master of the Universe is no idiot. Maybe He thinks that if He makes the world all peaceful, then we’ll rest comfortably with our TV sets, cars, swimming pools, and walk-in closets and we won’t have a need for Him. Maybe the influx of "tefillot" (prayers), "Tehillim" and Torah learning will come to a halt, because, after all, everything is running smoothly, so we no longer have that need to run and cry to Him. It’s as if a child scraped his knee outside, ran and cried to his Mommy, who of course kissed the wound and made it better, so now the child can go back outside to play without a care in the world. I use the example of a child, but we are an entire nation of people here – smart, intelligent people. Sometimes our evil inclinations get the best of us and we act like five year olds.

If we say that G-d is mad, we have to be aware that we are talking from our point of view. How do we know that this portion of our lives is not part of a Master Plan that G-d has in store for us? Currently, it’s hard to see past the obvious torture, but with hindsight, hopefully, there will be some sense of clarity. Where is the good in innocent people getting blown up and shot every single day? If this segment of life is the really bad news that someone gives when they say they have "good news and bad news," then I can assume that most of us are asking, "where is the good news already? Have we not suffered enough?" Who knows in what way G-d is responding to us? If we’re lucky, maybe He’s saying, "My nation has been put through this torture, they have elevated themselves as individuals and have strengthened themselves as a nation, and they have a new found respect for Me, so I’ll stop inflicting this pain upon them, and bring them the "Mashiach" that they have been yearning for and anticipating for so long."

As already mentioned, "Tanachm" has proven time and time again that "Hashem" wants a sincere relationship. Perhaps if everyone would just turn inward and pick a few "middot" (character traits) that they need to work on (we all have things that can be rectified), then maybe that would bring us a step closer to a final redemption. At this point, I think our nation can stand to take all the suggestions it can get, even if it is not really our place as human-beings to be offering them. Now is the time to do something, anything. Whatever you think needs to be done, just do it, do it sincerely and do it out of love. Use this experience of "tzarot" (difficulties) as a way to bring yourself closer to "Hashem" and to elevate your relationship with Him.

Pesach (the Pasch) is rapidly approaching. Next week, we are going to relive the enslavement and redemption of the Jewish people from Egypt. We will go through the rituals of the "Seder", start off as slaves and come out as free men and women, but every single one of us will know that we are still stuck in our own form of slavery - a restrictive lifestyle that inhibits you from acting normally because you live your life in fear.

"Hashem", I know You are listening to me and reading every single word here. Please, on behalf of "Klal Yisrael", put an end to our times of "tzarot" and turn our days of sadness and pain into days of "simchah, geulah" and "yeshuah" (joy, redemption and rescue), so that we no longer have to ask, "Where is the good news already?"

"Chag kasher v’sameach" and may we all be "zoche" (merit) to witness only good things on behalf of "Klal Yisrael, iy"H" (G-d willing).