Rabbi's Blog

Throughout my life I have thought of things I’ve wanted to accomplish, but there are also things I never thought I would even attempt to do. Some of the things which fall into this category I considered to be geeky, not my style, could never afford, or were just too weird. More to the point, some other things which I never wanted to attempt were contrary to my upbringing or education. These things fell into the categories of ethical standards, morality, religious requirements, or simply comfort. Today, I’ve come to recognize and identify some of these ‘never never’ things that I have done, albeit silly or serious in nature, and it is this category which I would like to share with you this week.

 

It is no secret that I do not fly well. Just before my most recent trip, my wife suggested I take along the collar pillow that many people swear by to help them sleep during a flight. Throughout my years of flying, I typically walked up and down the aisle of the plane, muttering under my breath, “They’ll never catch me with one of those ridiculous contraptions around my neck.” Perhaps I doubted the neck pillow really worked or thought it was just some kind of placebo device. Regardless of the reason, I knew that one of those geeky collar-pillows absolutely was not going to be used by me. Well, I was desperate, and so I succumbed and actually tried using one. Fortunately for me and my ego, it was a disaster. It totally didn’t work. I said to myself, ‘Ha! You see it doesn’t work.’

 

My father served in the US Army, and was stationed in Germany from 1953 - 1955. He once told me that ‘back then’ he walked right into Dachau concentration camp, long before the world got involved in either razing the still-standing concentration camps or turning them into cold museums. Perhaps it was due to his experiences during his years stationed in Germany that he was adamant, totally determined never to buy anything made in Germany. This left an indelible impression upon me, so much so that I have never had even the remotest desire to visit Germany. Well, lo and behold my last trip to Eretz Yisrael had a connection in Germany. While waiting in line to board the plane which would later land in Germany, I found myself surrounded by people who were speaking German. My father’s words and my own resolution never to enter Germany was now in jeopardy. Of course, I knew all this in advance and rationalized to myself, “I’m not really going to Germany. I’m just going to wait at the airport for a few hours in order to take my connecting flight to Israel.”. Nevertheless, this reminded me of my mental list of things I had stated I would never do. Watching and reading about the daily unfolding of events in Israel these past six weeks has reminded me about the commitment I had made to ever enter Germany. And really, I now thought, why not? I don’t think there is any way to state this more clearly or plainly: Despite all we have contributed to the world, the majority of the world hates us - the Jewish people and the people of Eretz Yisrael. It is a very scary realization, but I don’t think we should be so naïve as to think otherwise. I NEVER would have thought that in my lifetime I would witness genuine, bold anti-Semitism, despite the fact that many still consider us to be the underdogs, the true victims. Many democratic countries are trying to fight this anti-Zionist, anti-semitic wave against Israel and against the Jewish people scattered throughout the world, but let’s not fool ourselves. This is not new; it’s just been under wraps for the past six decades. There is, however, one major difference today which must be viewed in stark contrast to the past two thousand years. That difference is Israel, the sovereign state of the Jewish people. We, the Jewish people, are still in Galus, a spiritual and physical exile, but we have our homeland. Not everyone is home; some are sojourners in lands, but those other lands are home for others, not for us. The notion of being a ‘Ger’ a sojourner, is highlighted in this week’s Torah portion, Parsha Masel.

 

In Parsha Masei we read of the Jewish people’s travels to forty-two places over a forty-year period in the desert. I am not referring to the travel in the desert where Jews would be sojourners, but rather to the description of the ‘Ir Miklat’, the cities of refuge. In Bamidbar 35:6 theTorah states: “ V’Eis HeArim Asher Titnoo LaLeviyim Eis Sheish Arei HaMiklat Asher Titnoo Lanoose Shama HaRotzeiach, VaAleihem Titnoo Arbaim Ushtayim Ir”. “Along with the cities that you shall give to the Levites shall be the six cities of refuge which you shall provide as places to which a murderer can flee. Besides these (six) cities, you shall provide an additional forty-two cities”. The Kli Yakar explains that the forty-two encampments in which the Jewish people stopped during their travels in the desert as sojourners were compared with the Levites who were given these cities because they did not receive ordinary land which all the other tribes received. The cities of refuge (intended for a man who killed someone by accident) were specifically designed to be within the Levite cities because when someone fled there he was compared to a sojourner. Perhaps others taunted the murderer by saying ‘this is not your land’. Therefore, the Ir Miklat, the city of refuge, was placed within the Levite city because the Leviim were also considered strangers in the land. As the saying goes, people in glass houses shouldn’t throw stones. The Leviim, who were strangers in the land, would not say anything derogatory to the murderers who fled to the cities of refuge as sojourners. In fact, we the Jewish people know better than to refer to someone as a sojourner/a Ger. This is because God Himself tells us to treat the Ger well because we were also Geirim/strangers in the land of Egypt.

 

Rav Lunchitz gives us an incredible insight on the verse that Hashem told Avraham during the bris Bein HaBesarim in Breishis 15:13 that your offspring will be strangers in a land which will not belong to them. The simple understanding of this verse is that the land will not belong to the stranger. The deeper meaning is that the land won’t even belong to the native residents. In actuality, the land of Egypt didn’t even belong to the Egyptians because Yosef had bought up all the land for Pharoah. As a result even the Egyptians were ‘strangers’ in their own land. This was done so the Egyptians could not say anything to the Jews about being sojourners, strangers in THEIR land.

 

Today we are witnessing anti-Semitism running rampant in many democratic countries throughout the world. The last few weeks have “show-cased” anti-Israel riots in France, Germany, Morocco and the Netherlands with pro-Palestinians attacking the Maccabi Haifa soccer team in Austria. The Muslim community and Islam in general is today’s platform upon which anti- Semitism is yet again rearing its ugly face. When there is Achdus, unity of purpose and mutual respect amongst the Jewish people, Hashem creates a scenario in which we all feel comfortable and welcome wherever we may be living. When we become too comfortable amongst the goyim with whom we live in exile, Hashem sends us a quick and sharp reminder of how the world in general just does not accept us no matter who we are, no matter where we are living, and no matter how long we may have lived there. We must demonstrate clear support and respect for each other. We must understand that to attain consistent respect from the world-at-large requires that we support our homeland, and that we respect ourselves. Hashem Yeracheim, God have mercy, on our people Am Yisroel in Eretz Yisrael and in the diaspora.

 

Ah Gut Shabbos

Rabbi Avraham Bogopulsky