Repairing Worlds: Reparation and Tikkun

The Isbitz-Radzin Institute is proud to present the following article by noted psychotherapist and writer Joseph H. Berke. It is the first in what we hope to be a series of guest articles exploring expressions of Chassidus and Kabbalah in psychology and other fields. Doctor Berke studied under R. D. Laing and is the founder and and director of the Arbours Crisis Centre, London. He has authored numerous books on psychology, most recently Malice: Through the Looking Glass.

This excerpt is taken from the final chapter of his forthcoming book, written together with Stanley Schneider, entitled Centers of Power: The Convergence of Psychoanalysis and Kabbalah, to be published by Jason Aronson, fall 2007.

Tikkun has to do with correction, restoration and renewal. It is the core concept, the raison d’être of Kabbalah and coincides with the impetus for reparation, perhaps the most significant psychoanalytic formulation of Melanie Klein and her followers.

As in Kabbalah, Klein set out to describe how to overcome fragmentation and loss, evil and exile. But her terms of reference were different. Klein was concerned with the self in relation to ‘internal objects,’ internalized representations of significant persons, and, to a lesser extent, ‘external objects,’ actual life-important people. For her, exile meant separation from Mother, while evil equaled death. For Kabbalists, however, evil means fragmentation of the soul and separation from God.

Reparation is the will, means and action of repairing an inner world shattered under the pressure of destructive impulses and an outer world of damaged relationships, peoples and things. Reparation, like tikkun, is both a goal and the movement towards this goal. According to Kleinian psychology, reparation is never complete, rather it is an active process of striving towards completeness, whether of the head or heart or entire being. It is intimately related to its Kabbalistic counterpart, which is also a constant ongoing process, but with a larger purpose: to unify the universe.

How can one put back together a loved one, loved ones, after we have hurt them? And how strong are our reparative capacities when, as R. D. Laing has noted, “the dreadful has already happened?”

It is fitting to conclude this extended study of psychoanalysis and Kabbalah with a discussion of tikkun. Essentially tikkun has to do with healing -- physical, emotional and spiritual. For ‘man’ this has to do with healing the rifts within himself and between himself and others, in order to gain and regain shlaimoot- wholeness and shalom - peace (of mind).

Essentially, the Kabbalah teaches that when a person restores his self-balance, that is, restores the proper weight of his thought, feelings and actions on a personal scale, he will simultaneously perform a tikkun ha-olam, a transformation of the cosmos. Therefore, what happens internally will happen externally, what happens on a micro scale will also happen on a macro scale. So we learn that there is a continual interplay between the ultimate goal of creation, which is to bring completeness to the world, tikkin ha-olam, and the action or personal praxis that has to be taken, to bring this about.

Noah Feldman: Wiped Out.

"It would be more dramatic if I had been excommunicated like Baruch Spinoza, in a ceremony complete with black candles and a ban on all social contact, a rite whose solemnity reflected the seriousness of its consequences. But in the modern world, the formal communal ban is an anachronism."


Noah Feldman, our own modern Spinoza. But I trust that you understand why it was not so dramatic with your case. You are not exactly playing with the big boys.

(His full article can be seen at http://www.nytimes.com/2007/07/22/magazine/22yeshiva-t.html?em&ex=1186804800&en=5912c1b9af1ce42d&ei=5070, where He tells the tale of how he graduated from a "Modern Orthodox" Jewish High school, and was then distubed to find out that his face and the face of his Gentile wife were airbrushed out of an alumni photo.)


I've got to hand it to you, Mr. Feldman, you possess superior intelligence, an articulate style, and a whole lot of issues to work out. Not only about modern orthodoxy, but about simple, faithful, Torah observance. Your successes, intellect, and ego all score such high marks, but sadly, you seem to be having difficulty with one of the basic ingredients of all Torah observance, modern or not. This basic and essential component is called the love and fear of God.

I do not consider a Jew who marries a Gentile to be lacking faith. He may have tremendous belief in God. It is just that he doesn't see any good enough reason to believe that the law had him and his own best intersts in mind. Such a non-observant believer lacks Yiras Shamayim, the fear or awe of God’s great presence and majesty. Yiras Shamayim, the only thing God asks from us (Deut. 10:12) as a people, is a way of putting your money where your faith is. Yes, I believe. But do I refrain from doing anything in my life simply because God is the Boss, or at least because God is always faithful to reward observance and punish disobedience? Yiras Shamayim, or the Fear of God (as it is usually, though incompletely, translated) separates those who believe in God from those who live a life enriched by this belief.

Lets look at some of Professor Feldman's words before they have been forgotten by the public, which I generously estimate at five weeks. By then some choice derisions of Mitzvot will most likely have made their way to KKK.com.


“Since the birth of modern Orthodox Judaism in 19th-century Germany, a central goal of the movement has been to normalize the observance of traditional Jewish law to make it possible to follow all 613 biblical commandments assiduously while still participating in the reality of the modern world. You must strive to be, as a poet of the time put it, “a Jew in the home and a man in the street.” Even as we students of the Maimonides School spent half of every school day immersed in what was unabashedly a medieval curriculum, our aim was to seem to outsiders and to ourselves like reasonable, mainstream people, not fanatics or cult members.”

The first thing that comes to mind is the error of thinking that Orthodox Jews follow 613 commandments. Unlike the commandment not to marry outside of the Jewish community (as mentioned in Deut. 7:3), a law vital to the life of our nation and the continuation of our tradition, there are many commandments that most Jews cannot fufull. Some are only for Cohanim, some are only for the King, some are for slaves, and many of them require a fully functional Temple in Jerusalem. Less than one hundred of the famous “613” are applicable to most Jews today.

But this is besides the point. The real error is saying that Modern orthodoxy means to be a “Jew in the home and a man in the street.” Modern Orthodoxy means that a religious Jew can take part in the modern world. He can go to university, play golf, be a law professor and even see a movie, provided that it’s kosher. I would not be proud of penning these poetics of "a man in the street." The point of Modern Orthoxody is that observance of the law does not force a Jewish man or woman to live in a ghetto. He is not just a “man in the street.” He is a Torah-observant participant in the modern world.


Then later Feldman writes, “Lieberman’s overt normalcy really is remarkable. Though modern Orthodox Jews do not typically wear the long beards, side curls and black, nostalgic Old World garments favored by the ultra-Orthodox, the men do wear beneath their clothes a small fringed prayer shawl every bit as outré as the sacred undergarments worn by Mormons. Morning prayers are accompanied by the daily donning of phylacteries, which, though painless, resemble in their leather-strappy way the cinched cilice worn by the initiates of Opus Dei and so lasciviously depicted in “The Da Vinci Code.””

Catholics take the Eucharist, “take this bread for it is my body, drink this wine for it is my blood.” American Indians have rituals like the sweat lodge and the peace pipe. I am not going to list all of the rituals and traditions of all the peoples of the world that men of logic and normalcy define as outré (or bizarre, thank you, Professor, for teaching me a new word.). Feldman’s point seems to be, “how can you be modern and do all of this crazy stuff?” If you want to live your life purely according to the human intellect, then as a Christian you won’t take the eucharist, as a Muslim you won’t bow in prayer to Allah before the Kabba, and as a Jew you won’t follow Hashem’s command by wearing Tallis (“fringed prayer shawl”) and Tefillin (“Phylacteries”). In other words, Professor Feldman seems to be ashamed about doing anything that resembles those crazy things that religious Christians, Muslims, Mormons, or American Indians do. Yet his comparison of Tefillin to the scene in the DaVinci Code comes short of comparing it to “S&M” attire. This is a comparison whose only logical use would be in a KKK or Hamas web site. Using it in the New York Times is only preaching to the converted, as the secular (non affiliated) Jewish readership, due to an incomplete educaton, have long entertained such bewilderment at the commandments cherished by their own religion. I would suggest the modern enlightened reader to go shvitz in a sweat lodge and smoke the peace pipe. After all, the intellect can be satisfied with the peace pipe and the sweat lodge because the American Indian body sends a message to his intellect saying, “it feels good.” (but the pious native Americans probably wouldn’t let your uninitiated lilly white hides shvitz with them, anyway.)


Freedom of Religion is one of the great things about America. Follow whatever religion you choose, and be careful not to punch anyone because of God. However, if Modern Orthodox Judaism is your choice, it requires dedication to the Torah’s commandments and the Rabbinic tradition throughout the ages that has so lovingly and zealously guarded that tradition back to Mount Sinai. However, it allows greater leniency that the “Ultra-Orthodox,” or Charedim, are willing to allow, and tolerates less leniency, or, lets face it, abandonment of the commandments, practiced by conservative and reform Judaism. Mr. Feldman, pick your camp. If you want religious sanction and acceptance with your wife and children, then you would be with open arms in many conservative and all reform congregations. You want your teachers and friends to accept you. So do I. So do most people. I am sure you found out who your real friends are, Noah. One person you will not be friends with, at least not as long keep complaining as you do in your article, is King David. “I am a friend to all who fear You and keep your Commandments.” (Psalms, 119:63)


Our sages tell us to judge all men meritoriously. In the fulfillment of this sagely advice I will assume that your wife and children are sweet, wonderful people. But in the big scheme of things, you are ending your own Jewish lineage. I think being airbrushed out of the alumni magazine should be the smallest of your concerns. And sadly, there is a Jewish woman who you could have married who might just never get married now, at least not bear your children. Perhaps its better that way, if they might have learned to add insult to injury, abandoning and then publicly deriding God and His Torah as you have. But there is hope. For your sake, I bless your children or even your grandchildren to convert, no doubt to a Chassidic sect in Mea Shearim, where they might delight in every letter of the Torah and the Talmud, wearing their “outré” tallis katan and “leather-strappy” Tefillin.

You may have been wiped out of your alumni photo, but this is small potatoes. The only thing that is being wiped out here is your contribution the building of Israel. I'm not talking about your generous financial contributions. This is admirable. But Israel is best built through enduring generations that love of God and His Torah.


God willing, I will tackle Feldman’s next quote (printed below) at a later date. But here is a start.

He writes: “Food restrictions are tight: a committed modern Orthodox observer would not drink wine with non-Jews and would have trouble finding anything to eat in a nonkosher restaurant other than undressed cold greens (assuming, of course, that the salad was prepared with a kosher knife).The dietary laws of kashrut are designed to differentiate and distance the observant person from the rest of the world. When followed precisely, as I learned growing up, they accomplish exactly that. Every bite requires categorization into permitted and prohibited, milk or meat. To follow these laws, to analyze each ingredient in each food that comes into your purview, is to construct the world in terms of the rules borne by those who keep kosher. The category of the unkosher comes unconsciously to apply not only to foods that fall outside the rules but also to the people who eat that food — which is to say, almost everyone in the world, whether Jewish or not. You cannot easily break bread with them, but that is not all. You cannot, in a deeper sense, participate with them in the common human activity of restoring the body through food.”

As an orthodox Rabbi, I will go on record as willing to share a salad and a few beers with any decent Jew of Gentile, provided he has had a bath and knows some good jokes, and, of course, doesn’t have a big problem with Israel. Do I think of him as treif? Hey, some of my best friends are Treif eating Israelites. And why should I fault a Gentile for doing something that the Torah never forbade him? In the immortal words of Will Rodgers, “I never met a man I didn’t like.” It just takes eyes to see it.

Sichos Chullin - Rav Adin Even Yisrael

By the waters of Babylon-Boston,

Last thing the Rav said to me before I left, "Boston, I have been there. It is an interesting town. Don't get too spoiled there in Boston."

And here I am, its a nice place to visit. Lovely trees, parks, some nice people. I feel like such a stranger. After a superb shabbos meal complete with my improvised, "peanut-butter and jelly" baked chicken (sauteed in Thai peanut oil, olive oil, olives, Rasberry perserves, or Marmalade, or something along those lines, and red wine), after going on just a little too long, we finished and I walked E&N back to their house through the plush streets, 12 midnight, muggy air and affluent brookline houses, stuffed with shabbos, and E. asked me, "how does it feel like to be a brookline baal a boos?" We are swapping our place in Jerusalem with this fantastic house, much thanks to E&N's reccomendation and our generous swappers, so I am kind of pretending to be a local. A fleishige brookline orthodox Jew, "dont get too spoiled there in Boston."

But we are a little homesick. Rav Adin SHilita is fond of telling about a new immigrant to Israel, american, who came to him with looking for advice as to how to cope with his own spiritual strife. THe Rav said to him, "Just walk around Jerusalem and speak to simple people, Israelils who don't know any English. Just speak to them in simple hebrew and listen carefully to how they respond." (I don't think he meant to ask the simple Israelis about the meaning of life and theological issues, but just to force himself to carry on simple conversations, or "small talk." Such conversations could have profound results.) The Rav said that the man did this, and found many answers to many of his spiritual questions in the words of the simple Jews of Israel. I heard the Rav tell over this story two or three times, once telling me that my teshuvah would be complete the day I quit speaking English and speak only Hebrew. ANd zug ich, some people use the hebrew language like a holy cow, but, with God's help, I don't think that will be my problem. Heaven help us all to reach into our past and in so doing, re-align our futures -
In Hebrew.

Freezing with the Sheep in Syria

Dear Friends,

Who had the most difficult life? Was it Avraham, Yitschak, or Yaakov? Everyone goes through difficult times, but some more than others. Some have greater physical or financial difficulties, and others are more beset upon by strife of the spirit. Avraham was tested with ten tests, from the first test of being tossed into the fire by cousin Nimrod to the last test of the Akeida, the binding of Yistchak. However, the legends also teach us that Avraham was the wealthiest man of his generation, based on the verse in Genesis describing him "laden down" with heards and gold, "and God blessed Avraham with everything." If it were not for the blessing of God, you might say that Avraham's great wealth caused him great suffering, because after all, "the more properties, the more worries." (Avos)

Yitschak, inherited his father both spiritually and financially, including the mastery over the illustrious progeny of Hagar. The Ohr HaChaiim's legal argument for such a proprietership, or ownership, if you will, if interesting, is problematic. I must remind the Talmudic scholars who subscribe to the Ohr HaChaiim's arugment that slavery has been abolished in most countries across the globe, "dinna d'malchusa dinna," and one would be hard pressed to find a Rabbi who doesn't oppose the the sale and purchase of human beings, though a few nostalgic chauvanists might relish the thought of its renewal. Furthermore, Avraham then married Hagar as a full-fledged wife after the passing of Sarah. I don't have the Ohr HaChaiim in front of me, so either supporting or disagreeing with his argument would be foolish. And yet, would that all Jews today were aware and comfortable with being the direct recipients of the spiritual and physical inheritence, the Torah and the Land, that was passed on from Avraham to Yitschak and from Yitschak to Yisrael. If this were only so, I personally would forefeit most of my share of the slaves. 55 percent, at least. But seriously, our basis for this claim is the Torah, which tells us, "Avraham gave everything he had to Yitschak," and, "Your seed will be called in the name of (the descendents of) Yitschak." "And Yaakov said (to Eisav), swear to me as the day, and he swore to him, and he sold his birthright to Yaakov." Interestingly enough, the Ohr HaChaiim HaKodesh also makes great and brilliant efforts to show how this sale, just as Yitschak's inheritence, was also legally binding. But let us save the issue of inheritence for another time, and return to the question of suffering, a problem than needs to be tackled in order to enjoy the promise and the inheritence.


Yitschak suffered a near death experience and saw his brother (there are no half brothers in Jewish law) banished to the desert of Be'r L'chai Roi, otherwise known as Beer Sheva. This was one of Yitschak's favorite places for prayer, medetation, and communing with God (See Ramban, Genesis, 24:62), perhaps because the angel appeared there to Hagar. A more psychological interpretation might say that he was trying to work out his feelings about how he was first nearly sacrificed by his father, and then how his father nearly brought about the death of his brother. Remember that we are speaking about a great prophet who lived around 4000 years ago, a personality and a time the modern man is hard pressed to understand even minimally. But still, I may offer that sometimes intense souls such as he was go back to the, "scene of the crime," to try to figure out why it had to be, and what was really happening on the inside.


Our forefather Yitschak suffered at the hands of the jealous Philistines, vandalously filling up the wells that he had dug, trying to remind him that he is an outsider. He and his father paid for these wells with gold, silver, or camels, just as they paid for the land they lived on. They aquired their lands in the way of the world even though it was promised to them by God, because such promises don't hold up in the courtroom so well. But it seems that in ancient times, as it is with their modern namesakes, the Philistines were not so careful about honoring agreements.
But in the evaluation of suffering, I cast my vote with Yaakov Avinu. His twin brother, a hardened criminal, plans to murder him. Even though they grew up in a rich family, Yaakov lives a rather ascetic existnce with his scrolls in the tent, concerned more with matters spiritual than rape and murder. He probably was disturbed by how his brother' Eisav went off the track, after all, he loved his brother dearly. In the little I have seen in the classical comentaries, I did not see anything to suggest that Yaakov ever did anything to try to reform his "big" brother, (born minutes before Yaakov), he could have given him a hug and told him, "your not really a killer, you could be a holy man, a great force of the spirit, an example to the world. You have what it takes and you know right from wrong." (R.S.) But that might be too much to expect from a child.



Yaakov Avinu had to run for his life with nothing but the clothes on his back and his walking stick. He then had to work for seven years as a shepherd in order to marry Rachel, only to have her switched under the chuppa with her sister Leah. Yes, their father Lavan was a cheat, but in his deception he saved Leah from falling into the hands of Eisav, her designated husband. Regardless, in the shocked eyes of Yaakov, the simple, whole hearted man, who might once have naievely assumed that just as he is honest so will others be, such a ruse from Lavan is another rude awakening. Now he has to look forward to another seven years of freezing in the dark of winter on the Syrian plains, burning under the hot middle-eastern sun, and having his wages changed ten times to suit the will of his father-in-law whose main concern is number one.
Later his favorite son will be sold into slavery by his less favorite sons (which teaches us, at least, not to play favorites), his daughter raped, and his prophetic powers removed from him as he sinks into despair. Yes, it must be Yaakov who suffered more that his father and grandfather.


Running away from Eisav, forced out of his fathers house, Yaakov Avinu prayed to God, "I raise my eyes to the mountains, from where will my help come?" (Psalms) The midrash tells us, "Instead of reading mountains (harim), vocalize the word as horim (parents, progenitors)." Look at Avraham, called "the mountain," and Yitschak, your father. The Mei HaShiloach, Rav Mordechai Yosef of Isbitz (1800-c. 1850) reminds us that Avraham and Yitschak were wealthy and had many servants to take care of their fields and buisness. They had more time for study and the service of God. Yaakov Avinu didn't have that luxury. He felt that his power or prayer and level of scholarship, truly his whole level of Avodah (spirit-work) was far less than his father and grandfather. After all, they were free to pursue spiritual matters and he was off to chase sheep for twenty years. The Midrash says, "should I give up hope in my Creator?" Yaakov's despair must have been overwhelming, thinking to himself, "I dont even have a choice! I will have to work, chasing the sheep through hill and vale, so I had better forget forget about being a Tsaddik, forget about being a scholar. What happened to my dreams, God? I spent fourteen years studying Torah with Shem and Eiver, reaching the pinnacle of scholarship, learning the mysteries of creation and the Charriot, and now I have to spent twenty years doing menial labor! (and the Midrash on the Psalm continues), "God forbid that I give up hope in my Creator! My help comed from God, maker of Heaven and Earth!"

Rav Mordechai Yosef Zts"l says that God was telling Yaakov, "don't worry. Just because Avraham and Yitschak had it easy, so to speak, and logged in countless hours of study and davening, it does not mean that their service is more precious than yours, Yaakov. The twenty minutes you have for Shacharis, the fifteen minutes you spend on your mishna in the morning, break the heart and illuminates the mind of Heaven! You can learn all the mystries of creation in the by the troughs and the staves (Gen. 30:38), and I will speak to you from the sheepfolds. You are the living Torah! Your life creates the Torah! (See Meor Eynayim). You sat in the Yeshiva of Shem and Eiver, and there you may have learned the Torah. But now, my servant Yaakov, in the long, cold, syrian nights, you will live the Torah. Now you will truly learn how to serve Me!"

"Maker of Heaven and Earth," you will now learn how to bring the spiritual world into the physical world. (Y.L.)

Sometime before his days drew to a close, Rav Eliezar ben Hyrcanus, known as Rabbi Eliezar HaGadol (the great), left a list of spiritual practices for his son. This is the Tsava'at Rabbi Eliezar HaGadol, his last will and testiment. In it he says, "be particularly careful about Ma'ariv, the evening prayer (even thought it is reshus), because it was established by Yaakov Avinu, the greatest (nivchar, or selected, or chosen) of the Patriarchs." Praying into the black of the night, serving the One and Only amidst the darkness, holding on the the faith and knowledge that dawn will come, and you will win your battle with the angel, standing before God even when no man, no angel, not even the Master Himself, requires it of you, a man of awe and a man of truth, - this is Yaakov Avinu, the recipient of the inheritence and the master of the service of God. And this is why we say at the end of the evening prayer, "I raise my eyes to the hills, from where will my help come? May help comes from God, maker of heaven and earth."

Going Home

"Why don't you live in Israel?"
(long pause)
"The Ribono SHel Oloam has different plans for everybody."

Question of the blogger and answer of Rav I. Twersky, Zts"l, in 1996

"Fields, springs, streets bathed in golden light, big hearted men selling vegetables in the Shuk, sweet and tough uzi-totting girls in uniform chit-chatting with each other, spaced out baal teshuvas with a hint of a fanatic glint in their eye smiling and walking to the kotel, Wizend old men with their canes making their way through the lanes of mea She'arim, self-righteous liberals peering at you from behind the wheel or their status-jeeps, sanctimonious Shas-niks walking fast in the street with their black hats tipped down so as to look serious, sun-baked kotel beggers half-crazed and dancing in ancient ruins, and harder to see, real, normal people (who could be one and the same with the BT and the liberal and the Shas-nik) living and working to support their families, real people who would put their lives on the line for you if the call to action sounds ..."

"And you shall drive out (the inhabitants of) the land (the seven Cana'anite nations) and dwell there, for I have given the land to you, in order to inherit it." (Numbers, 33:53)
"In my opinion, this is a positive commandment, God commands them to live in the land and inherit (or take possession of) it, for it was given to them. They shall not despise the inheitence of God. And it shall not occur to them to go and conquer the lands of Shinar, or Asshur or any other land (such as USA, or Europe, or Australia, or South Africa), and to live there. He who does so violates a positive commandment." HaRav Moshe ben Nachman. (Ramban).

Just go, and it will all work out.

Parshas Ekev - Babylon and Back

Dear Friends,

I am writing from the waters of babylon. Well, some may call this a high-falutent way of saying I am in Boston, Massachusetts, but I am sick of appoligizing for the way I wish to express myself. When the author of this Psalm used this expression in Psalm 137 he was desribing the feelings of the Jews who had been taken in shackles out of their land and placed in one of the most technologically advanced cities of its time, complete with an intricate system of canals. "How can we sing our father's song in a strange land?" This was a tremendous theological dillema, essentially asking if it is possible to observe the laws of the Torah outside the land of Israel. The Ramban answered this by teaching us that all mitvos practiced outside of Israel are only a kind of safeguarding and preparation for their eventual authentic fulfillment in the borders of the land of Israel. The first thing that comes to mind after hearing this is the centrality of the land of Israel in Jewish life and observance. Clearly it is possible to be a Jew even outside the land of Israel, but the corrolary to the Ramban's ruling is that it is an incomplete existence.

I feel such a rush of excitement thinking about our land. The hills and the springs, the streets of Jerusalem, the Tsaddikim, Beynonim (common men), and even the Rashayim (wicked) if not all holy, are nothing less than the holy of holies (R.S.C.) imbued with a special merit of being in their own land and accepting God's tremendous gift of a home. This is not a case of "Patriotism is the last refuge to which a scoundrel flees," nice-guy nationalism, or airheaded love blind to the anger, hatred, and suffering that mars the contemporary Israeli society. Every individual and the nation as a whole will eventually succeed in throwing away the peel and eating the fruit, as the expression from the Talmud goes. As for me personally, I live my life, raise my children, work, play, study, and pray all with the confidence that I am in my own place and the only place the God has truly granted me or any one of my people here on earth.

God bless you all to stand up to the challenge and try to make your home in Israel. If you are religious, you can then feel satisfied that you are fulfilling one of the 613 commandments. (See Ramban on Numbers, 33:53, and his gloss on Rambam, sefer hamitzvos, #4.) Clearly we rule according to the Ramban on this issue, "for Torah shall go forth from Zion," and if this blogger was not trembling with fear he would question the authority or a Rabbi who never lived in the land of Israel to rule as to whether or not settling the Land is or is not one of the 613 commandments, for it may be construed as a case of "morei heter l'atsmo," or making a legal ruling in order for the lawmaker to justify his own behavior. But we agree that the system of the oral law cannot be undermined by suspicion that its great Rabbis were tainted in their rulings by hidden agendas. I trust in God that lawmakers compromised by personal agendas never make it into the Shulchan Aruch (code of Jewish Law). And we can also assume that the claim that it is a violation of Jewish law to live in the land of Israel under a largely secular government is unacceptable. Owing to the great resurgance of the great Torah academies in Israel and the descent of the great yeshivas in the diaspora, we must again follow the lead of the great Rabbis of the land of Israel over the great exilic sages.

Everyone has their excuse why not to go on the voyage. My job, my friends, my children, my parents, my house. Even, "I was in Israel and I just didn't like way people behave." Well, my friends, come spend a shabbos at our house and maybe we can hook you up with some new chevre. (friends).

I was sitting with the Stretner Rebbe, SHlita, in Jerusalem at his tish one day after davening (He makes a tish just about every day at 7:45 am with a few of his Chassidim and is quite accesable). Chaim David brought a friend of his to meet the Rebbe. This man, a righteous american, proffessed his love for Israel, and how much he really wants to make aliya, but sadly, his 15 year old daughter just doesnt want to move. He then cited studies which showed how children of new religious "Olim" (immigrants to Israel) tend to reject a Torah lifestyle. Furthemore, the Gerer Rebbe and other "gedolim" advised him to stay in the US. Unable to contain myself, I went through the roof. How dare he defile the land with his gedolim. I didn't say this, right now I can't remember what I said, but whatever I did say, the Gabbai, Yoel, told me not to be sarcastic. The Rebbe responded quietly, and my own pain at hearing such slander precluded me from hearing the Rebbe's response. (Maybe he will hold back next time.)

When Ezra called the children of Israel back to rebuild the Temple after the babylonian exile, there were righteous and mighty families that refused to join him. After all, they were pious, of good lineage, and succesful in their new found homes. It was the rabble, the irreligous, and in their eyes mongrel Jews who joined Ezra to return to the land. THe truly frum stayed in babylon. As time is short, I can only say one thing to those who snub the land and its rabble. A pox on your noses. And if for whatever reason, you excuse yourself from the challenge, the mitzvah, of living in our land, the least you can do is not slander the land and its people, however, "un-frum" they may be. I pray to the One and Only to send you an awakening, giving you the confidence to stand up to the challenge.

Looking in the Mirror

As I drove Rav Scheinberger Shlit"a back from Reb Dovid Zeller Zts"ls funeral he told me a story that caused me to reflect, or not to, as the case may be.
Reb Velvel is an elderly Chassid, a "Kotel man" who has been seen for many years exercising the rare privelege of walking back and forth during the prayer services at the western wall collecting charity from the Jews there davening. He is small, hunched over, pushing a hundred and still friendly. One day, not so long ago, Reb Velvel was walking around at the kotel and fell, getting his face dirty. His grandson, who was accompanying him, found a pocket mirror that some daveners use to check that their "shel rosh" (Head Phylactary) is in the proper position, not relying on the right hand middle finger which does not lie. When Reb Velvel looked in the mirror, he burst out into laughter. "What's so funny?" His grandson and some other concerned congregants asked him. "HA! Since I was ten years old I have never looked in a mirror! It was just so funny to see how I looked."
I asked Rav Sheinberger how this could be. He said that some people are quite serious at a young age, and when they learn a law, they do it, because that is the whole point of the law.
Well, Rav Sheinberger taught me a law, or stricture, as it appers to me, and since that ride back from the funeral, I havn't looked in a mirror without laughing a little inside while remembering this story.