Happy Birthday Beloved Israel

It's pretty simple really - I love this place! I love the people, I love the Land, I love the State. I love the feeling of waking up in this Land and breathing air here. I love the food, I love the smell. I love the history, I love that it's mine! We are home, we are building, we are getting better all the time. No excuses or qualifications necessary! I love the flag, and the birds, and the sky, and Jerusalem. I love that my father and grandmother are buried here, I love that the Matriarchs and Patriarchs are buried here. I will dedicate my life to making this place great. Join me...

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Am Yisrael - One big humus eating happy family

Every Pesach since I first became religious I've essentially had a repeat of the seder experience- a well groomed black hat sporting North American kiruv rabbi sitting at the head of the table spending the night sharing light-hearted parables tied into the story of Yetzirat Mitzrayim, everyone calmly getting their fill of matzah and maybe a cute performance from the kids. This year however due to me now having Israeli in-laws, I merited getting an up close view of the Moroccan and Yeminite worlds of Israel not so commonly available to those in the English speaking circles of Jerusalem.

The cultural challenges included things like trying to keep up with a table full of people who can read Hebrew 5 times faster than the speed of light and trying to reach halachik agreements over how to handle the intricacies of the Pesach laws with people who were often less then thrilled to have some yeshivish American kid come and start telling them what to do. In fact one thing I've noticed of quite a few of the non-Charedi Sephardim in Israel is that for many, opening up a Shulchan Aruch, Mishneh Breur or Yalkut Yosef and stating the halacha point blank seems to be no match in their eyes against claims of, "Who are you to tell me what to do? I was born in the neighboring town to where the Baba Sali lived!" Or, "My great grandfather was the Ben Ish Chai's milkman! You think I don't know what I'm talking about!?"

As difficult as it was at times to bridge the culture gap, I witnessed something really beautiful that put the whole idea of Am Yisrael and family in perspective for me. During Chol Hamoed one day we had a bbq up in Haifa. Here I was, wearing my frummer-than-though black and white "penguin" uniform surrounded by sabras in jeans and flip flops when my wife and I looked into a neighboring yard nearby. We saw another Israeli family quite similar to ours grilling their own food "al-ha'eish." Smack dab in the middle of the group was a man with a long beard also sporting the "uniform" with his super-tznious wife helping direct the festivities. My wife smiled and commented, "I guess there has to be one of those couples in every family!" Then it hit me, I looked at the people surrounding me that were in many ways so entirely different and yet had totally welcomed me into their family. I also looked down the street at the guy whom I'm sure had such similar Pesach experience to mine that he could probably write this post for me. I realized that's the story of Am Yisrael. As corny as it sounds, no matter how different we may look or feel we are all as Jews bound up by some common thread. What the thread is and how it works I'm not exactly sure bit it's definitely there and doing its thing. My rabbi gave several classes in Jerusalem in the last week or so and during one of them said that he never calls himself religious, just a Jew. People tell him things like, "Well look at your big beard!" He replies, "Goats can grow beards too, so what of it?" No matter how different we may look speak or act, we really are just one big family.

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"Purim, An Aliya Story"

by Stewart Weiss

Is the Bible relevant? As we read the Book of Esther during these days of Purim, I find myself wondering just what this story is all about. On the surface, it is a classic morality play. The forces of injustice and cruelty become ascendant, threatening to exterminate a whole people simply because they are different. A reluctant band of heroes enters the scene, eloquently pleading their cause and ultimately gaining the favor of the King. The despicable tyrant is vanquished, Good triumphs over Evil, and all live happily ever after. Neat, sweet and complete. But hark, fair reader. Purim doth teach that all is not as it seemeth; that masks of many shapes and sizes disguise a much deeper message hiding behind the poetry and prose.

I suggest that one of the central themes of the Purim story is the ancient, yet ongoing, interplay between the Jew of the Diaspora and the Jew of Israel. It is precisely this motif which not only makes the Megila eternal, but among the most popular and well-known of all the books of the Bible...

THE JEWS of Shushan are your archetypal Diaspora Jews. They seem to live quite comfortably under a benevolent ruler who respects their rights and ignores their idiosyncrasies. They are even invited to royal banquets – where the food is glatt kosher – and are called upon regularly for advice. Yet, for all their prominence, the Jews still tread that thin line between security and suspicion. Can they trust their hosts, and can their own loyalty to the crown be trusted? Among themselves they perpetually debate – with no foregone conclusion – whether they are Persian Jews or Jewish Persians.

Haman and Mordechai enter the scene, bringing the deeper issues into focus. Haman is no stranger to Jews, having lived among them and observed their rites and rituals for quite some time. He has no love for Jews, to be sure, but is quite prepared to strike a modus vivendi with them – if they demonstrate that their first allegiance is to the state and its sovereign. Haman therefore prepares a test, convincing the king to hold a party celebrating the end of Jewish independence, even using the vessels of the Temple to toast Jewish subservience to the mighty Persian Empire.

Alas, the Jews submit and enthusiastically attend the party celebrating their own demise. They laugh and make merry, hardly realizing the joke is on them. But there is one Jew who will not abdicate his soul. Mordechai is of a different character. He remembers Jerusalem, having survived the Temple's destruction. He dresses like a Jew, and prefers Hebrew to Persian. He will neither bend nor bow, despite the intense pressure from both the grand vizier and his own co-religionists. Mordechai may live in the exile, but he is a son of Israel in form and substance.

When Haman sees Mordechai unbowed, he understands – better than the Jews themselves –that they will not forever be compromised. He therefore employs the age-old charges of "dual loyalty" and "fifth column" against them, convincing the Persian monarch that "once a Jew, always a Jew," and that this "certain people" will never mesh with the pure Persian pedigree. In the battle of wills that follows Mordechai must convince his people that abandoning their heritage will not keep them safe. Eventually, their salvation lies in reasserting their unique character and "casting their lot" with the King of Kings rather than with despots of flesh and blood.

Esther, for her part, is the story's most tragic figure. Caught between being a daughter of Israel and queen for a day, she never does make a whole and final peace. While she will save her people from disaster and gain lasting fame, in the process she will leave her home, intermarry, and bear a child for a man she does not love.

On stages all over the world this same little piece of theater is played out each and every day. Jews in countries throughout the exile live in various conditions of pain or pleasure. They pray to be left alone, yet know that their own personal Haman may be lurking right around the corner, just waiting to take advantage of their precarious position. They fear the day will come when they will be tested and have to choose between fealty and faith, and they are afraid they will choose wrong. They wonder if a Mordechai or Esther will arise to save them, too.

But there is a big difference between Persia then and the Jewish world now. Today, we have a place where a Jew can live as a Jew, with no fear of religious persecution, at present or in the future. We have a homeland where no Jew need divide his loyalty. We have a country and an army that will do battle with every Haman that tries to torment us, that will quash every plot that tries to destroy us.

The Jews of the Persian Empire are largely a footnote of history, but Israel is the center of history in the making, beckoning every Jew to come home, where we truly belong. And that, as they say, is the whole Megila.

The writer is director of the Jewish Outreach and Ohel Ari Heritage Center in Ra'anana.

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Jewish Love

Jewish love is about union - and there are many types of love and union. Surely there is union between man and woman, between parents and children, and between friends. But there are other unions which matter very much: the union between people and G-d, between Jews and their land, and between the broader family of the tribe of Israel, and even between the tribe of mankind which we call the human race...

In this week's Torah portion we learn: (6th Portion - Chapter 6)
Hear, O Israel: The Lord is our G-d; the Lord is one. And you shall love the Lord, your G-d, with all your heart and with all your soul, and with all your means. And these words, which I command you this day, shall be upon your heart.

When one decides to live his life with this concept in mind - to love G-d with everything one has - there comes a great relief because one is freed from the many self-serving choices that are put in front of him today and everyday. We are here to serve G-d, to make His name great, to bring a greater consciousness of Him into this world. Now that is love, that is dedication, that is freedom and that is real fun! He wants us to use all of our gifts to the max - but this world is not about self-actualization, it's about G-d-actualization.

What's really amazing is that to do all that, (to make His name great through loving Him), G-d commands us to love ourselves and to love each other. For Hashem, His greatest joy comes from when people, and especially Jewish people, get along and have peace in our homes.

This Tu b'Av, may we see the union of the Jews through a physical as well as spiritual union, that is, may we serve G-d together in the Land of Israel as a united family. We may have love for Him individually, but the full vision is of union - the union of all Jews in one place with one heart. That is what we yearn for, yet we are still divided. After 2000 years of division, it is time for the next era - the time of love and unity, selflessness and joy.

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The Motherland

Recently, on a shopping trip in Jerusalem, I stopped by a Superpharm, Israel's largest drugstore chain. Being the kind of girl who used to meander through Duane Reade back in the day to see what our friends at Maybelline were thinking up, or if there had been any advances on the toothpaste front, I popped in, with an eye toward some Ahava products to give out in the Exile on my upcoming trip. Nothing says "Israel is WAY more awesome than America" more than a jar of scented sea salts or a packet of squooshy, nutritive mud.

As my 5 and a half month old daughter needs some early training in the shopping arts (get them while they're young, ladies), I took her along, pushing her eager, pudgy little body through the store in her stroller.

For those of you who aren't familiar with Israeli drugstores, they aren't the casual browsing experiences you recognize from the Diaspora. Israeli drugstores also contain WILDLY overpriced American and European cosmetics and their corresponding makeup counter ladies. These aggressive but friendly women are squeezed together in the middle of the store, guarding the really expensive makeup and perfume and concurrently trying to get you to wear it, making that the very, very last place in the store one wants to go. However, like an onion with so many layers, there is a second layer - the lamer European cosmetics and the Israeli stuff, like Ahava and Dr. Fischer. These articles are found in the aisles on either side of the main center aisle, and are serviced by only a few women, who are generally more relaxed, though equally as made up as their Estee Lauder-touting counterparts.

So I maneuvered my carriage through the tightly-stocked store, arriving finally at the Ahava section. At that point, my daughter started to cry, so I took her out of the carriage, and carried her with me as I looked through the products. That's when she saw us - I don't know her name, but you know her. She sports a big grin, powerfully highlighted hair heretofore unseen in her native Morocco, long acrylic nails and a snug cotton/lycra shirt not stamped with the Badatz seal of approval.

"[Gasp!]" I turned around quickly to see what could have gone wrong, who fell, who died, whose pants ripped up the back.

"Wai wai wai!!!! Aizeh metukah! Chamudah! Kapparah aleichem!! tfoo tfoo tfooo!" Translation: "Wow, wow, wow! What a sweetie! Cutie! ...[not translatable - if you want to understand, come live in Israel]"

She approached us with enthusiasm generally reserved for long lost relatives or the Publisher's Clearinghouse Sweepstakes. She asked if she could hold my baby, who, like a true Fleisher, was glowing from all the attention, and smiling a big toothless smile. So I agreed, inherently trusting most Moroccan women of any hair color. She started to play, to coo, to dance with my baby. She asked her name, which I told her, and she started talking and singing to the baby. I thought to myself "that's so sweet. Gosh, people are nice."

And then it happened. "Rachel!! Come over here! Did you see this baby?!" Rachel (not necessarily the actual name, but bear with me for purposes of the story) turned around, saw my daughter, and the same ecstatic greeting was repeated. Rachel skittered off to another aisle to alert the cell phone saleswomen, who turned the corner, saw my baby, and emitted a high pitched noise I have only heard from dog whistles and Russian women. The cell phone saleswoman, with high, scary heels, asked if SHE could hold the baby, which I acquiesced to. Then the first lady scurried over to the main cosmetics area to get the other cosmetics saleswomen, who arrived in a group of about 5, while the second lady went off to help a customer in the now service-free store.

At some point, I just kind of walked away, and found the Dead Sea creams and salts I was looking for, while my baby was celebrated and shared, passed from a Russian lady to a Yemenite, to another Moroccan, to a German. They squeezed her legs, pinched her cheeks, bounced her up and down and blessed her with a long life and good health. When I came back, the newcomers asked me her name, where we were from (good PR for Samaria!), and wished me lots of nachat (nachas for you in the Exile) from her, with glowing faces and real warmth. Some of them saw her and proposed shidduchim (marriage proposals) with their sons and grandsons. One by one, after wishing me a good day and a mazal tov, they returned to their work, pushing eye shadow and body creams to the Israeli masses.

Twenty minutes after arriving in the Ahava aisle, we left the store with our purchases. I put the baby back in her carriage, where she lay quietly gurgling to herself, fully satiated by all the love and admiration.

I thought about America, where "other people's children" are rarely handled, except by a licensed professional, and then frequently with some sort of supervision or bio hazard barrier for fear of someone being accused of or contracting something. I was gratified by the honest, effervescent love of these Jewish women for my baby, and for me by warrant of being her mother. Superpharm ladies, we love you, too.

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EHS: Rav Sonnenfeld: Don't be a Spy!

(AFP)

Eim Habanim Semeichah - Page 506:

I also saw in Eileh Mas'ei an idea which the righteous mentor of Eretz Yisrael, R. Sonnenfeld, used to say [on the verse] And you shall see the goodness of Jerusalem (Tehillim 128:5): One must always see only the good of Eretz Yisrael, that is, the positive sides of Jerusalem. One must be careful not to be a "spy," G-d forbid. The spies were punished because they slandered Eretz Yisrael at a time when there were no Jews there; how much more so now, when there are many Jews in the Land.

Praise to my beloved friend, the young and exceptionally sharp scholar, the magnate, our master, R. Eliezer Sussman shlita, the son of our brilliant and righteous master, R. Efrayim Fischel Sofer z"l, rabbi and av beit din of [Budapest]. He copied for me parts of a manuscript of his father's eulogy for our brilliant mentor, R. Yosef Chayim Sonnenfeld:

Who will have pity on you, O Jerusalem, and who will bemoan you, O beloved Land! He never cursed anyone, under any circumstances. He was distressed more than anyone else about those who came and defiled the Land by desecrating the holy Sabbath, eating forbidden foods, and eating leavened bread on Pesach. He invoked merit upon these lost souls, saying, "The Land which they work with such great devotion will bring them back to the proper path and purify their hearts."

He would rebuke anyone who even slightly slandered the residents of the Holy City. He once told me that the Shulchan Aruch states that righteous people fast on the seventeenth of Elul because of the spies, who spread the evil report about the Land died on that day. The Magen Avraham asks, does it not say, When the wicked perish, there is jubilation (Mishley 11:10)? The Shelah answers that the spies were righteous men (tzaddikim.) Thus, even tzaddikim can be spies!

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And she shall be called in Israel...

With much thanks to Hashem, I am happy to share with you that at 10:10am Shabbat Morning, the 7th day of the month of Kislev, 5768 (November 17, 2007), Annie gave birth to a baby girl. Both Annie and our new daughter are doing well - and Hodaya is excited to be a sister.

Being Shabbat, we had the opportunity, a few hours later, during Mincha (afternoon service) to name our daughter.

And she shall be called in Israel... Eliana Racheil.

Eliana means: (My) G-d has answered - a combination of the two Hebrew words, Eli: (My) G-d, and Ana: has answered.

On the most elementary level, It is the hope and prayer of every couple to be blessed with children, and that, in the aftermath of childbirth, that both baby and mother should be well. It is all too easy to forget or take for granted that not every couple has yet to be blessed with children, and not every pregnancy ends well, either for the mother or baby (or both).

So, on this most basic and human level, Eliana - G-d has answered our prayers - and we have been blessed once again with a beautiful baby girl, and that both she and her mother are healthy and happy, if not a bit tired, understandably so.

Racheil comes from our Biblical matriarch Rachel, who happened to be one of the central figures from this past Shabbat's weekly Torah portion - Parshat VaYeitzei.

The Talmud (Niddah 20b) teaches us that when a baby is in the womb, "he / she is taught the entire Torah...". It is not surprising then, having already become familiar with this past Shabbat's Torah portion that Eliana Racheil chose to enter this world specifically on Shabbat Parshat VaYeitzei.

The Hebrew word VaYeitzei means: to go out - and that is precisely what Eliana Racheil did this past Shabbat - she went out of her mother's womb and entered into the world.

Additionally, one of the central themes of Parshat VaYeitzei is that of childbirth. Over the course of the Torah portion, 11 of the 12 sons of Jacob - the Tribes of Israel - are both born and named (another motivation for naming Eliana Racheil over this particular Shabbat), and in addition to the 11 boys born to Jacob, a daughter is also born to him - bringing the total to 12 children born to Jacob over the span of a single Torah portion.

However, in order to fully appreciate and understand the name, one must look at both names together.

There is a Midrash found at the beginning of the Book of Lamentations (Eichah) which recounts the following (copied from www.Chabad.org):

As the Temple lay in ruins and the Jews were being led into exile as slaves, Abraham came before G-d and said: "Master of the universe, when I was 100 years old, you gave me a son, and when he was 37 years old you told me, 'Raise him as a sacrifice before Me.' I overcame my natural mercy and bound him myself. Will You not remember my devotion and have mercy on my children?"

Next, Isaac approached. "When my father said, 'G-d will show us the sheep for a sacrifice, my son,' I did not hesitate but accepted my fate and extended my neck to be slaughtered. Will You not remember my strength and have mercy on my children?"

Then Jacob beseeched: "I worked for twenty years in the house of Laban and when I left, Esau came to harm me. I suffered all my life raising my children. Now they are being led like sheep to the slaughter in the hands of their enemies. Won't you remember all my pain and suffering and redeem my children?"

Moses rose up and said: "Was I not a loyal shepherd of Israel for forty years? I ran before them in the desert like a horse. When the time came to enter Israel, You decreed that I would die in the desert. Now they go into exile. Won't You listen to my crying over them?"

Before all these virtuous defenders, G-d remained silent.

Then Rachel lifted her voice, "Master of the Universe, You know that Jacob loved me intensely and worked for seven years in order to marry me. When the time of my marriage came, my father substituted my sister for me. I did not begrudge my sister and I didn't let her be shamed; I even revealed to her the secret signs that Jacob and I had arranged.

"If I, a mere mortal, was not prepared to humiliate my sister and was willing to take a rival into my home, how could You, the eternal, compassionate G-d, be jealous of idols, which have no true existence, that were brought into Your home? Will You cause my children to be exiled on this account?"

Immediately, G-d's mercy was aroused and He responded, "For you, Rachel, I will bring Israel back to their place."

This Midrash is based on the verses found in the Book of Jeremiah (31: 15 - 17):

So has the Lord said: In Ramah there is a sound of crying, weeping and bitter sorrow; Rachel weeping for her children; she will not be comforted for their loss. The Lord has said this: Keep your voice from sorrow and your eyes from weeping: for your work will be rewarded, says the Lord; and they will come back from the land of their hater. And there is hope for the future, says the Lord; and your children will come back to the land which is theirs.

Returning to the name, Eliana Racheil...

Eliana Racheil is our 2nd child, and our 2nd child to be born in Jerusalem, the eternal capital of the Jewish People. Annie and I have been blessed to make our home and start our family here, in the Land of Israel, and have our children born in Jerusalem, something which, today, is also something, B"H, that is easy to take for granted.

In response to our matriarch Rachel's tears on seeing the Jewish People led into exile, G-d promised her that "your children (the Jewish People) will return to their borders (the Land of Israel)".

Annie and I, along with Hodaya Leah and Eliana Racheil (and the many other Jews who have returned to the Land of Israel - who have returned home) are the living fulfillment of G-d's promise to Rachel - Eliana Rachel - G-d has answered Rachel's prayer - the Jewish People are coming home.

It is our hope and prayer, in giving our new daughter this name, Eliana Racheil, that she follow in the footsteps of her namesake, Racheil Imeinu, who serves as the embodiment of dedication and self-sacrifice on behalf of the Jewish people, and that our Eliana Racheil devote herself to bringing about the redemption of the Jewish People - may we merit to see it speedily in our - and Eliana Racheil's - lifetime.

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NACHAS

My father (a"h) had an interesting quirk. He absolutely loved it when all his children were home for Shabbat. He would tell me: "Now that everyone is home, I finally feel at rest." No matter what time of day we arrived, he would promptly go to sleep on the couch as we three siblings palled around in the house. As he slept you could see on his face the nachas that he felt.

The Rebbe from Slonim says that there is a similar nachas for G-d Himself. He states, in his book Netivot Shalom, that just like a regular father, G-d loves it when His children love each other and are together. That is the reason why the Lord loves Shabbat - because on Shabbat His children are together in synagogues and around the table and have the opportunity to show each other affection.

What a concept - giving G-d nachas. We live in the i-pod, i-tunes, i-generation. Everything is about 'me'. All the gadgets are there to serve 'me'. So often in our religious life we ask "what does this do for me? How does this benefit me? How will I grow from this? What will I achieve? " Kashrut is good for me, Shabbat is good for me, even prayer is good for me. But what about good for G-d? How can I please G-d? This seems to be a question that is not often discussed.

Many of us think that our life's goal is to reach our greatest potential, to be the best person we can be. Maybe our goal should be to do the best service for Hashem. What does He want? What will make Him happy?

To that end we come to the issue of living in Israel. The Torah tells us that "When you come to the land of Israel which Hashem your G-d has given you, the Land shall keep a Sabbath for the Lord." (Vayika 25) The Ibn Ezra tells us that this passage contains a secret about the end of days. What is that secret? When the Jewish people will return to the land of Israel, it is G-d who will enjoy the Sabbath - all His children will be home, and He will finally feel at peace. The Torah is telling us an amazing thing: G-d gets nachas from His children, the Jewish people, being at home, in the land of Israel. Amazing.

Not only G-d is happy when the Children of Israel are home. Our grandma, Mama Rachel, the great matriarch of the Jewish people, is continuously crying and refuses to be consoled. Why is she crying?

Thus says the LORD, "A voice is heard in Ramah, lamentation and bitter weeping. Rachel is weeping for her children; she refuses to be comforted for her children, because they are no more." Thus says the LORD, "Restrain your voice from weeping and your eyes from tears; for your work will be rewarded," declares the LORD, "and they will return from the land of the enemy. "There is hope for your future," declares the LORD, "and your children will return to their own territory." (Yirmiyahu 31)

Rachel is crying because she misses her children, she awaits their return from the Exile. Every time a Jew comes home, he or she brings joy to Rachel, helps her stop crying, because we are fulfilling her greatest wish - that we return. Have you ever considered giving some nachas to Rachel? Have you ever though about bringing joy to her who can only be consoled by the return of her children?

Living in Israel certainly has an element of self-gratification. One feels spiritually fulfilled speaking Hebrew, living with the holidays, breathing the air of Jerusalem. As Nefeshb'Nefesh says it you can "Live The Dream." But the highest level of making Aliyah is not about serving the self or even serving the country - it's about serving and pleasing G-d. The Torah tells us that "G-d's eyes are on the Land from the beginning of the year to the end of the year." (Devarim 11) He is always looking at Israel, over and above other places, to see how His children are doing. By living in Israel, and loving your fellow Jews there, you bring G-d the greatest gift of all: the nachas that all His children have returned home.

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1967: A Year of Jewish Military Campaigns

The friendly folks over at Chabad are happy to point out that more than one important military campaign was launched in 1967.

According to Lubavitch, 2007 marks the 40 year anniversary of the great Rabbi General Menachem Mendel's Tefillin campaign, which also has helped the nation and people of Israel expand their spiritual borders.

Check out this 1 minute video in honor of the anniversary, entitled "The Tefillin Booth"

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I love you, Jerusalem!

So did Ofra Haza (z"l)

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Do-Gooder Alert: Comfort Esther Malka

You may recall that some of our cousins who didn't make the cut for Little Mosque on the Prairie recently bashed in the head of a Jewish woman driving her car in Efrat as she was on her way home (if this isn't a legitimate way to express your dewy-eyed dreams of national sovereignty, I don't know what is!!).

Today, my co-host and I did an interview with Nadia Matar of Women in Green, who is organizing on Esther's behalf. (As of this post, the specific link isn't up - check out The Weekend Edition for May 13).

If you will not be able to attend rallies for Esther, or otherwise visit her, you can send her your well-wishes (which, with G-d's help, she'll read if she ever wakes up again, B"H) and even donations - Nadia has agreed to personally deliver all correspondence.

So here's contact info for Esther Malka (Esther bat Zohara):

Esther Malka
c/o Women in Green
P.O.B. 1269
Efrat, ISRAEL 90435

Terror attacks aren't just awful, they're devastating. Even with socialized medicine, medical costs can accumulate, the victim is not longer providing income, and the family decreases its work in order to be there for the victim. This creates a financial drain that is difficult to reverse - your donations, I'm sure, would be welcome.

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Explanations

I think some explanations may be due.

First, I put up a post last Friday (since edited) that was a tad uncommunicative. I'm sorry if people had no idea what I was trying to say - I got a little carried away because I was really happy with my latest article. I hadn't written anything for a while, and the article came out powerful (I thought) and I was happy so I started doing my touchdown dance and forgot where I was for a moment.

I had gotten used to having articles in the press every 2-3 weeks, and then had to go without for a long time, and so when the article came out - and unlike my previous string of articles at Ynet, was not censored - I was happy. Sorry. I just love the truth and I love getting it out. I know how much the jerks out there are pained by it.

As for women and gays. Some of my best friends are... no wait, that one's been done. Women are great. Homosexuals are also great. Being considered stupid, being treated without respect, being sexually harmed or being beaten up and then having the police take this lightly - all these things stink. Women don't deserve that. Being called a fairy also stinks. Homosexuals have a hard life. I feel bad for them.

I'm all for letting people do what they want in their bedrooms and I'm all for women getting the respect and protection they deserve. But when these groups organize politically and affect my country's defense posture - I cease to empathize and I start getting angry. When these groups adopt lying radical marxists as their leaders, and other people don't realize that this is happening under their noses, I feel the need to alert them.

Men have done everything we can be expected to do and much more in support of the women's movement. Show me a single feminist law that hasn't been passed by the Knesset, with the support of a large majority, including the knit-kippah crowd.

Groups don't normally give up power willingly. Yet the men of the Knesset are doing just that, and they have been doing it for many years: passing laws that mandate 50% female representation on state-company boards of directors, for instance. Voting for a law that would give substantial benefits to parties that have at least 30% representation for women on their tickets. Changing rape laws in a way that no longer requires the presence of the use of force or even the threat of the use of force for conviction - thus creating exceedingly fertile ground for vindictive use of false accusations. Creating the sexual harrassment law, despite the ease with which it lends itself to use in blackmail. Passing the domestic violence law that has been grossly abused by women in divorces. And much more where that came from.

The number of Israeli men in jail for crimes against women has shot up by 450% in ten years. A full 25% of the people in jail right now are in there for supposed crimes against women. I say supposed, because half of them are innocent. When a specific prison population shoots up by 450% like that - you know there's a witch hunt going on.

So the last thing that can be said about Israel's males is that they have not been bending over backwards for the women's movement, and cooperating fully with its leaders and legislators.

The same goes for homosexuals: if you read what I linked to in that Zibbi and the Homos post, you'll see that they, too, realize they are in a golden age (for them, as far as their rights and power are concerned).

But when these groups' politics cross over into defense and diplomacy, and it turns out they are working for the enemy - well, I don't have to put up with that. My posts have been about foreign policy and defense matters. When a feminist clique manages to destroy our country's defenses and bring about humiliating withdrawals in Lebanon and Gaza - only an utter fool would continue defending them in any way. When the foreign office / tourism ministry helps create a site that promotes Black Laundry - we have to ask ourself what is going on.

A poster by Black Laundry. Should the government be helping this group?

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A Ride to the Cemetery

You read about traffic accidents almost daily in Israel. They kill more Israelis each year than Arabs do. Today alone there were 97 traffic accidents. This past weekend 15 Israelis were killed on the road, 21 in the past week.



Two especially unique Jews, killed in the car above were, have left me grieving heavily, along with the rest of the nation of Israel.

Yocheved Chein, of blessed memory, died well before her time. She was 44, a devoted wife and mother of six. Well, maybe mother of eight, if I would count my wife and I. Yocheved was like a second mother to us.



This was one of the truly genuine women of our time. She was selfless, and righteous. She gave every last resource she could scrape to help others. It didn't matter if Yocheved knew you or not. If you needed something, and she heard, she was going to help. Convenience was not one of her considerations.

As the wife of a Chabad Shaliach, Yocheved's home was open 24-7. Their door was open all the time. Literally, even if they weren't home. And in Queens, that's not always advisable. I entered through their door on hundreds of occasions.

The Rabbi and Rebbitzin worked non-stop with the community of Georgian immigrants they devoted their life to. They taught them Judaism from scratch. The Georgians always knew that they were Jewish. The Chein's taught them how to be Jewish.

The Cheins were literally readying the world for Moshiach, one mitzvah at a time, and believe me, that is not an easy task.

I cannot tell you how many times the Chein family came to our assistance. Handing us a car, and giving me a second income from their community for two years--which I later found out sometimes came from their own pockets--are just a few of the memorable kindnesses they offered. We were regulars at their Shabbos table.



The Rabbi survived the crash with several broken ribs. Rabbi Chein is a Rav, mentor, and friend, in addition to a father-figure to me. How he escaped the car alive is a miracle that is overlooked amidst tragedy. The Rebbitzen and her mother passed away.



The Rebbitzen's mother, Rachel Tzedek Schneerson, of blessed memory, was a true matriarch figure. Her husband had passed away many years ago, and she raised the family. I'm not sure how many grandchildren she had, but it is in the dozens. Rachel was known to me, and the rest of the family as Bebby, or grandma in Georgian.

Bebby had a comforting smile. A glance in her eye told you that she knew something you didn't. I didn't get the chance to find out what it was.

Yocheved was a fireball. I have never seen a woman with so much energy. She was a perpetual optimist. Even when the cards didn't seem to line up aces, the Rebbitzin had no fear. She put all her trust in G-d, and didn't worry about the rest.

She had a loud voice, and was not afraid to let anyone hear her opinion. Yet, since she really was righteous, she never really offended anyone.

She cooked up a storm, Georgian-style. I am going to miss her spicy sauces, despite the fact that I am an Ashkenazi Jew who prefers that sweet European-style cooking.

Yocheved was a great wife and mother, and was without a doubt the glue that kept her fast-moving family together.

Though they were living in New York, sent there on Shlichut by the Lubavitcher Rebbe, they were Israeli at their core, and loved the Holy Land. The Rabbi and Rebbitzen came to Israel at least a few times a year to visit their family, including the Rebbitzen's mother Rachel, who lived in Kiryat Malachi.

On this trip, as they did every year, the Rebbitzen came to honor the passing of her father. On the yahretzeit (memorial day), this past Friday, the Rabbi, Rebbitzen, and her mother were on route to the cemetery to pay their respects.

They eventually made it to the gravesite, but not in the condition they had envisioned.

You can read about the accident, and see pictures from the site.

My wife and I, and two friends were supposed to meet the Cheins for breakfast in Jerusalem Friday morning. An hour before the rendez-vous we got a call from their daughters saying that for some reason breakfast was off. An hour later, we got the news.

I was at Yocheved's funeral Sunday night at Har HaZeitim (Mt. of Olives) cemetery. That is a spooky place at night. It is perhaps the oldest Jewish cemetery in the World, and it shows. Her grave stares straight across to the Temple Mount. It has been a while since I was at the funeral of a loved one. It is an uncomfortable feeling.

The Rabbi made it to the funeral despite the severe pain in his ribs. I know his physical pain is nothing compared to his emotional suffering. Their children flew in from NY to attend their mother's funeral. I can't imagine what that plane ride was like.

Funerals in Israel are not the same as in the states, particularly in Jerusalem.

I had never been to a funeral at night, and here in Israel, bodies are brought to the grave in just a sheet. No coffin. A member of the Chevra Kadisha (burial society) literally jumps into the grave, and lays the body down to rest.

And then it is over. Yocheved and her mother were returned to the earth and returned to their maker.

We are left to grieve in their wake. May they merit all the rewards of the righteous in the world to come, and may their memories be a blessing for the Jewish people.

May the Chein and Schneerson families be comforted among mourners of Zion and Jerusalem.

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The Last Boy Scout

Leading up to the Purim Holiday, there was much to be done at the last moment. Two days before the holiday, there was work to be done, a lecture to give, an important dinner take-out order to fill, and costumes to get for the little ones.

As I got to Jerusalem to lecture a bunch of (what's a nice word for spoiled?) Yeshiva kids on the ins and outs of Israel advocacy, from the neo-Zionist perspective, I passed by a bunch of hooligan-looking Israelis dressed in what looked to me like boy scout uniforms.



In Israel, you'll see these types of uniforms on teenagers of the various youth movements--each movement occupying their own special niche within the vast religious-political culture which of course must also include innocent and non-innocent young children.

Let's just say these boy scouts didn't look like the helpful kind. Want a smoke?

Following the lecture which I thought was inspirational, and I am sure that some of the yawns were also out of appreciation for my time and energy, I went to go take care of some of those other last minute errands.

(By the way, I know that I give a great lecture).

I got to Pisgat Ze'ev, the largest community in what is now Jerusalem, although used to be the """"West Bank"""". It is a lovely part of the city built by the Prime Minister who could both build and take away, Ariel Sharon. It is really a beautiful large neighborhood.

We like it, because it is on the way home to Bet El from Jerusalem, and has some of the infrastructure missing from a smaller yishuv, like a shopping mall, and of course Burger's Bar.



The Burger's Bar is located at this intersection at the end of Rechov Moshe Dayan. I'm not sure what that tall red thing is supposed to be.



This is a good opportunity to talk about traffic safety in Israel.

When you are coming from Jerusalem, the best thing to do is park across the intersection in one of 8 or so parking spots facing in the direction you need to drive later. Now the road you need to cross on foot has 2 lanes in each direction--a 4 lane road in total. Not so big. But here in Israel, that means that the road takes about 5 minutes to cross, stopping on 2 seperate half-meter-wide islands in between green lights.

Now I was born in NY, so I am no fool. I look both ways and cross against the light if the coast is clear. For some reason, Israelis who will break just about every rule on the road, don't really jaywalk.

I got across the road pretty fast, when all of a sudden, I hear a 35-40 year-old blind lady holding a cane and 3 young kids in Purim costumes shouting, "Selicha, Selicha."

Now she didn't know it, but she was apparently talking to me.

She told me that it was unsafe to cross such a difficult intersection, and needed some help. She was right. Whichever engineer designed the traffic pattern here, they did not have this type of scenario in mind.

Of course, I helped her and her cute, decked-out kids back across the street.

After finishing my good deed for the day, I went back across that street, to get my take-out. The owner of the Burger's Bar, who knows me quite well from my wife's 9 months of pregnancy cravings that made me a regular at this establishment, invited our family to his child's upcoming birthday party at the restaurant. What a real, yet surreal night.

And how good it all made me feel. It was at that moment that I realized, it is simple good deeds like these that make this country what it is, and what it is supposed to be.

You don't have to be dressed like a boy scout to behave like one. But if you are dressed like a boy scout in Israel, it certainly wouldn't hurt to try.

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Homosexuality and Aliyah

Jews "Steven Goldstein and Daniel Gross of Teaneck became the first same-sex couple to be granted all the state's legal rights of marriage." The picture in the article features a full-on kiss between two men, one sporting an American flag/Israeli flag yarmelka.

Click here to read the article (warning graphic picture!)

Once again Jews are leading a social-revolution, albeit, a destructive, anti-G-d revolution.

However, Tzvi Fishman has just written an article called "50 Ways To Leave Your Lover"

No, its not about homosexuality, but it's about another social revolution called ALIYAH!

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Joining the Ranks

Well, ladies and gentlemen, congratulate me. I am officially an Israeli.

I, like my sisters before me, have joined the ranks of women who have tearfully sent their husbands off to war for Israel. I, too, have worried as I scramble to fill his backpack at 4:30 in the morning, if he will have enough clean socks. I, too, have scoured odd corners of the house to pass the time while he's in the field. I've battled my anti-social urge to hole up in the house and my equally maniacal urge to call him every 15 minutes. I've sworn not to ask him when he's coming home anymore. I've walked at night, begging G-d to bring him home safely. I've made him the center of every conversation. I've fought off the urge to buy a pint of ice cream and eat it at one sitting. I've threatened to kill the men who have neglected to serve him a single hot meal in 4 days. I've forced myself to make hot meals for myself while he's away. I've planned the meal I'll serve him when he comes home, what I'll wear.

As Yishai says, the hardships are our birthright, too. It stinks. But I swear everyday to love G-d with all my heart, with all my soul, with everything I have. Yishai is all those things.



Pray for the safety and might of Yishai Yaakov ben Tziona.

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