Jewish Action Winter 2024 by Jewish Action

Vol. 85, No. 2 • $5.50

INSIDE

FEATURES

18 24 34

ISRAEL

Defenders of the Jewish People: Remembering Israel’s Fallen Soldiers

By Sarah Hershenson

The Ultimate Sacrifice: The Faith and Courage of IDF Widows

By Carol Ungar

COVER STORY

Welcoming October 8th Jews Home: A Symposium Liel Leibovitz; Rebbetzin Gevura Davis, as told to Merri Ukraincik; Rabbi Dr. Warren Goldstein; Rabbi Judah Mischel; Rabbi Efraim Mintz; Meira Spivak, as told to Steve Lipman; Rivkah Slonim, as told to Steve Lipman; Avital ChizhikGoldschmidt and Rabbi Binyamin Goldschmidt; Sandy Eller; Kylie Ora Lobell; Rachel Schwartzberg; Toby Klein Greenwald; Ahuva Reich

59 60 66 70

CONVERSATIONS

A Time of Repentance

Excerpted from Bein Sheishes Le’Asor by Rabbi Shlomo Wolbe; translated by Rabbi Eliyahu Krakowski

Rethinking Outreach PostOctober 7: Speaking with Rabbi Yitzchak Breitowitz By Rabbi Dovid Bashevkin

Outreach Obligations and Responsibilities: What Does Halachah Say?

A discussion with Rabbi Shmuel Fuerst and Rabbi Micah Greenland; moderated by Rabbi Phil Karesh

Rabbi Dovid Bashevkin on Jewish Identity Post-October 7

DEPARTMENTS

LETTERS

By Naomi Ross 02 08 12 74 78 82 88

FROM THE DESK OF RABBI MOSHE HAUER

October 8th Dropouts: Reclaiming the Jews of Shame

MENSCH MANAGEMENT

Putting Hope to Work

By Rabbi Dr. Josh Joseph

ON MY MIND

Revisiting the Attainability of Greatness

By Moishe Bane

IN FOCUS

Look a Little Harder

By Rabbi Ezra Sarna

LEGAL-EASE

What’s the Truth about . . . Relocating a Sefer Torah?

By Rabbi Dr. Ari Z. Zivotofsky

THE CHEF’S TABLE

It’s My Party and I’ll Fry if I Want to

93 94 96 98 102 104

NEW FROM OU PRESS Ote LaParasha

BOOKS

The Shochet (Vol. 1): A Memoir of Jewish Life in Ukraine and Crimea By Pinkhes-Dov Goldenshteyn, translated by Michoel Rotenfeld Reviewed by Faigy Grunfeld

Canada’s Rabbi: The Life and Legacy of Rabbi Reuven Bulka By Rikki (Bulka) Ash

Reviewed by Rabbi N. Daniel Korobkin

The Guide to the Perplexed: A New Translation Translated and with commentary by Lenn E. Goodman and Phillip I. Lieberman

Reviewed by Rabbi Shnayor Burton

REVIEWS IN BRIEF By Rabbi Gil Student

Cover Design: Bacio Design & Marketing, Inc. 34

LASTING IMPRESSIONS

Coming Out of the Woodwork By Jeff Korbman

THE MAGAZINE OF THE ORTHODOX UNION jewishaction.com

Editor in Chief Nechama Carmel carmeln@ou.org

Associate Editor Sarah Weiner

Assistant Editor

Sara Olson

Associate Digital Editor Rachelly Eisenberger

Literary Editor Emeritus Matis Greenblatt

Rabbinic Advisor

Book Editor

Rabbi Yitzchak Breitowitz

Rabbi Gil Student

Book Editor

Contributing Editors

Rabbi Eliyahu Krakowski

Rabbi Yitzchok Adlerstein • Dr. Judith Bleich

Rabbi Emanuel Feldman • Rabbi Hillel Goldberg

A TOUCHING TRIBUTE

Our shul, Beit Knesset Hanassi in the Rehavia section of Jerusalem, participated in the project of acquiring a Simchat Torah mantle (Torah cover) in the name of a fallen soldier. Ours, in the name of David Mittelman, of blessed memory, arrived right before Simchat Torah.

Wishing to learn more about this brave soldier, I found the online tribute to Sgt. Mittelman by Jewish Action writer Adina Hershberg (“Tribute to a Lone Soldier,” Jewish Action digital edition, February). Mittelman, twenty years old, was killed battling terrorists at the Kissufim outpost on October 7.

I found Ms. Hershberg’s tribute to be particularly poignant, especially her ending:

Rabbi Sol Roth • Rabbi Jacob J. Schacter

Contributing Editors

Rabbi Berel Wein

Rabbi Yitzchok Adlerstein • Moishe Bane • Dr. Judith Bleich

Rabbi Emanuel Feldman • Rabbi Dr. Hillel Goldberg

Editorial Committee

Rabbi Sol Roth • Rabbi Jacob J. Schacter

Rabbi Dovid Bashevkin • Rabbi Binyamin Ehrenkranz

Rabbi Berel Wein

Rabbi Avrohom Gordimer • David Olivestone

Gerald M. Schreck • Rabbi Gil Student

Rabbi Dr. Tzvi Hersh Weinreb

Editorial Committee

Moishe Bane • Rabbi Dovid Bashevkin • Deborah Chames Cohen

Design 14Minds

Rabbi Binyamin Ehrenkranz • Rabbi Yaakov Glasser

David Olivestone • Gerald M. Schreck • Dr. Rosalyn Sherman

Advertising Sales

Rebbetzin Dr. Adina Shmidman • Rabbi Gil Student

Joseph Jacobs Advertising • 201.591.1713 arosenfeld@josephjacobs.org

Rabbi Dr. Tzvi Hersh Weinreb

. . . hundreds of Jews from across the religious and political spectrum— most of whom had never met Dovid—came out of their deep desire to accompany and honor a lone soldier who had given his life for Am Yisrael. I pray that this achdut will remain forever etched on our hearts and in our souls.

Subscriptions 212.613.8140

Copy Editor Hindy Mandel

ORTHODOX UNION

President Mark (Moishe) Bane

Design Bacio Design & Marketing

His memory will truly be blessed, as our shul has been honored to receive the Torah mantle bearing his name. Shabbat will see him wrapped around our holy Torah, carried tenderly, so to speak, and kissed by loving fingers.

Yehi zichro baruch.

Chairman of the Board Howard Tzvi Friedman

Advertising Sales

Joseph Jacobs Advertising • 201.591.1713 arosenfeld@josephjacobs.org

Vice Chairman of the Board Mordecai D. Katz

ORTHODOX UNION

Pessy Krausz

Jeremy Phillips, shul president

Beit Knesset Hanassi's Simchat Torah mantle in the name of Sgt. David Mittelman, of blessed memory. Courtesy of Pessy Krausz

Chairman, Board of Governors Henry I. Rothman

President Mitchel R. Aeder

Vice Chairman, Board of Governors Gerald M. Schreck

Chairman of the Board Yehuda Neuberger

Executive Vice President/Chief Professional Officer Allen I. Fagin

Vice Chairman of the Board Barbara Lehmann Siegel

Chief Institutional Advancement Officer

Arnold Gerson

Rehavia, Jerusalem

SHINING A LIGHT ON WIDOWHOOD

Senior Managing Director

Chairman, Board of Governors Avi Katz

Rabbi Steven Weil

Executive Vice President, Emeritus

Vice Chairman, Board of Governors Emanuel Adler

Rabbi Dr. Tzvi Hersh Weinreb

Chief Financial Officer/Chief Administrative Officer

Executive Vice President

Shlomo Schwartz

Rabbi Moshe Hauer

Chief Human Resources Officer

A widow for the past fifteen months after a fifty-six-year-long marriage, I did not have the chance to read the article “Navigating Widowhood in the Frum Community” by Merri Ukraincik (spring 2023) until recently. I read the article with great interest. It was a poignant portrayal of the topic, which is not always easy to achieve.

Rabbi Lenny Bessler

Executive Vice President & Chief Operating Officer

Rabbi Josh Joseph, Ed.D.

Chief Information Officer

Samuel Davidovics

Executive Vice President, Emeritus

Rabbi Dr. Tzvi Hersh Weinreb

Chief Innovation Officer

Rabbi Dave Felsenthal

Jewish Action Committee

Director of Marketing and Communications Gary Magder

Dr. Rosalyn Sherman, Chair Gerald M. Schreck, Co-Chair

Joel M. Schreiber, Chairman Emeritus

Jewish Action Committee

Gerald M. Schreck, Chairman

Joel M. Schreiber, Chairman Emeritus

40 Rector Street, 4th Floor, New York, NY 10006

Unfortunately, however, the article does little to address what I found to be most challenging facet: the financial aspect. I am not referring to “how am I going to pay the bills?” I am referring to a plethora of financial situations to which one must attend, often “dancing in the dark” without getting much help. To wit: 1. Claiming my husband’s social security benefits 2. Bank issues 3. Sale of my husband’s car 4. Investments; changing everything over to my name . . . the same for credit cards, billing, et cetera 5. Filing taxes

The author should have mentioned this challenging aspect that is part of the process of grief.

Thank you for shining a light on this topic.

Telephone 212.563.4000 • www.ou.org

Facebook: Jewish Action Magazine

Twitter: @Jewish_Action Facebook: JewishAction

Twitter: Jewish_Action Linkedln: Jewish Action Instagram: jewishaction_magazine

Michelle Bergman Brooklyn,

New York

JEWISH UNITY

Rabbi Moshe Hauer’s article “An Inflection Point in Jewish Life—Mi va’Mi Haholchim” (summer 2024) is nothing less than a fair and complete analysis of the sad present state of our internal Jewish affairs.

The great challenge for the Orthodox Jewish world is, as Rabbi Hauer wrote, to maintain our commitments and values and to simultaneously cultivate a loving tolerance of those outside of our camp. What makes that challenge all the more difficult is the insularity that comes with living in an Orthodox Jewish environment. I grew up in the tiny community of Mount Vernon, New York, taught my last twenty-five years in the Five Towns before retirement and now live in Lakewood. It is so easy for those raised in the latter two communities to believe that the entire Jewish world looks like those places. My Mount Vernon upbringing left the following indelible mark on me: our olam is at best 10 percent of world Jewry. That hard-to-come-by realization will make Rabbi Hauer’s pragmatic approach to Jewish unity a tad easier to internalize.

After the signing of the Declaration of Independence, Ben Franklin is reported to have said something to the effect of “Well, gentleman, we had better all hang together now because if not . . . we will undoubtedly hang separately.”

David Friedman Lakewood, New Jersey

MY JEWISH SELF AT WORK

Yasher koach to Rabbi Dr. Josh Joseph for his insightful piece “Bring Your Jewish Self to Work” (fall 2024). Beyond working around duties that fall on major Jewish holidays, I’ve found Torah values an essential compass for improving the work/life balance and navigating politics at the public university where I’m a professor. I’ve also found it incredibly meaningful when I explicitly connect Judaism to my research area (statistics/ mathematics education), yielding a grant, journal articles, et cetera. This helps me readily share more of my whole self and connect with my students (80 percent of whom are Mexican American), and I create lessons that honor their identity/ culture as well.

Larry Lesser El Paso, Texas

AFFECTED BY WAR

Even in the best of times, kids at risk can get lost in the fray of our educational and social systems. During times of war, when all of us are stretched thin, things can be even more difficult for these precious but vulnerable children of our community.

In addition to the considerations for kids at risk in Israel discussed in the article “Supporting At-Risk Youth in Israel Post–October 7” (fall 2024), it is important to be conscious of how kids at risk in America have been affected by the war. As an educational advocate for Work At It, I have seen young people whose lives were already in turmoil be affected in various ways by the situation in Israel. Some young people, after years of difficulties, had found their calling serving in the IDF as lone soldiers and were starting to put their post-army lives together before having to drop everything to serve. They now have to “restart” their lives. Young people who finally found a place to study and train for a meaningful career could not remain there due to campus antisemitism. Kids who were desperate to escape the negativity of their past and experience one of a myriad of special opportunities for growth and fulfillment in Israel were robbed of that chance.

In addition, with so much charitable funding going to support the war effort and those in need in Israel, raising funds for other worthy causes has been more difficult, limiting the resources available for worthy causes like the needs of kids at risk. This war has taken its toll on Am Yisrael across the globe in so many ways. Thank you for not overlooking this segment of our community.

Yaakov Mintz

Educational Advocate, Work At It Brooklyn, New York

Transliterations in the magazine are based on Sephardic pronunciation, unless an author is known to use Ashkenazic pronunciation. Thus, the inconsistencies in transliterations in the magazine are due to authors’ or interviewees’ preferences.

This magazine contains divrei Torah and should therefore be disposed of respectfully by either double-wrapping prior to disposal or placing in a recycling bin.

WE WANT TO HEAR FROM YOU!

To send a letter to Jewish Action, e-mail ja@ou.org. Letters may be edited for clarity.

UNIVERSITY THE FOR YOU

TOURO IS HERE TO NURTURE YOUR ACADEMIC EXPERIENCE AND FUTURE CAREER. From our president, to your professors and peers, you’ll find unwavering support in the classroom or lab, on campus and beyond. With shared values and a commitment to your success, TOURO TAKES YOU THERE.

OCTOBER 8 TH DROPOUTS: RECLAIMING THE JEWS OF SHAME

By Rabbi Moshe Hauer

Discussions abound— including in the pages of Jewish Action—using phrases like the “Great Jewish Awakening,” the “Surge in Jewish Engagement,” or “Welcoming October 8th Jews Home” to describe the exciting phenomenon of Jews reengaging with Judaism and the Jewish community post-October 7. But there is a darker piece of the story we must also consider, that of the October 8th dropouts, the Jews of Shame. We do not have reliable numbers with which to measure the relative strength of this trend, but it is there, it is a threat, and it can and must be addressed in ways that will uplift us all.

Threats to the Jewish people are often categorized as either physical or spiritual.1 Does the enemy du jour seek

vice president of

to annihilate us or to assimilate us, to destroy us physically or religiously? In the current frame, we face both categories of threat, though they are not necessarily intended as such.

Category I includes those who are pro-Hamas, the haters who have consistently attacked Israel before, during and since October 7. They clearly seek our physical destruction, aspiring for Palestine to be Free (of Jews) from the River to the Sea, extending the judenrein (Jew-free) zone that they have already established in the areas they currently “control” in Gaza and the West Bank. Their aspirations are evidently shared by those stateside who celebrate the October 7 attackers and pledge to globalize the intifada, believing—in the words of Columbia University Apartheid Divest (CUAD) student leader Khymani James—that “Zionists don’t deserve to live” and that we should “be grateful that [I’m] not just going out and murdering Zionists.” This group poses a real and present danger to the Jewish people in Israel, and, as we have learned from Jewish history, they must be confronted in this country before their words can, Heaven forbid, translate into a serious physical threat to American Jews. But they do not pose a spiritual threat to our people; if anything, they have driven many Jews back home.

Category II comprises countless others who are pro-Palestinian but not pro-Hamas, who reject outright seeking the destruction of Jews but have nevertheless joined in fierce opposition to Israel and its actions. Some in this category may be fiercely antisemitic but guarded enough to publicly denounce the brutality of Hamas, while others are genuinely horrified by Hamas’s actions

but place them “in the context” of the conditions of “the occupation.” In this latter category are some who challenge Israel’s very existence, as well as others who are declared Zionists but whose concerns for the Palestinians lead them to challenge Israel’s behavior to the extent that they may deny Israel the practical ability to defend itself from mortal threats. In their alternative reality, the army that strives to define and uphold as its central value tohar haneshek, “purity of arms,” and risks its own soldiers’ lives in its effort to limit collateral damage and civilian casualties, stands accused of indiscriminate bombing.

This group unwittingly threatens the Jewish people on two fronts, physically— by depriving Israel of the means and the right to defend itself—and spiritually, by their narrative that isn’t couched in hatred and racism but in the high language of morality and principle and of standing up for the oppressed, undermining the moral standing of Israel and the Jewish people and creating Jews of Shame.

Amazon may be able to tell us how many people bought Magen David necklaces in the past year, but it cannot tell us how many put them away. It certainly cannot tell us how many of those people hid their Magen David to avoid perceived danger or because they were ashamed to identify with the nation being cast by the media, international courts and university faculty, as well as by many of their peers, as the contemporary font of immorality and cruelty. When everyone in your bubble is telling you how terrible and cruel Israel is, you become ashamed to be associated with it—and you walk. Those are the October 8th dropouts, those who have turned away from Judaism and Jewish community not because they are afraid but because they are ashamed.

Rabbi Moshe Hauer is executive

the Orthodox Union.

Efforts to bring shame upon Jews and Jewish values precede the events of October 7. Traditional Judaism has been cast as unenlightened, cruel and insensitive for its insistence on upholding traditional halachah even when it conflicts with the ethos of personal autonomy or with numerous other modern cultural trends and values. We find ourselves struggling against this new morality that finds much public sympathy as it seeks to claim the moral high ground. Furthermore, while antisemitic tropes are off-limits in polite company, all bets are off regarding anti-Orthodox tropes, rendering it perfectly acceptable for the story of Orthodoxy to be told to the world almost exclusively by those who have abandoned it and who broadly portray it through the prism of their own traumatic experiences, creating a caricature of an abusive, joyless, greedy and misogynistic community.

The response to all these trends is one and the same. We must proudly take ownership of our own narrative, the story and values of the Jewish people and of Judaism, and zero in on the simple words that serve as the mandate that G-d provided the Jewish people: Ve'heyei berachah, and you shall be a source of blessing.2 We Jews are driven to be a blessing for our families, for our communities and for the world. That is our mission. That is our purpose. And that must be our narrative: that we are not content to live and let live, but are driven to help others thrive.

Heyei berachah, be a source of blessing. Nothing will be achieved by softening our principles to score public relations victories. Instead, we need to be a community that is loud and proud about its commitment to being a blessing to all. This commitment should drive us to be faithful to the timeless and eternal practices and values of the Torah and to have those values define our personal lives and our familial relationships in a manner that serves as the ultimate generator of connection to and admiration for Klal Yisrael, chochmatchem u’vinatchem l’einei ha’amim 3

Rather than back off, we need to elevate Torah principles further and ensure that the language of its values infuses and envelops every aspect of our lives so that we avoid the anger, frustration, vengefulness, vindictiveness and the verbal exchanges of fire that characterize our opponents. Our words and tone will reflect our loyalty to principle and to darchei noam, the pleasant pathway of the values of goodness, life and blessing that drive us.

Heyei berachah, be a source of blessing. As Jews everywhere confront a spike in antisemitism that is driven by conspiracy theories and falsehoods against them, we uphold the steadfast and ongoing commitment of the Jewish community to making this country healthier, stronger and kinder as we endeavor to improve society with charity, education and the pursuit of justice for the weak.

Heyei berachah, be a source of blessing. As the world refuses to understand Israel and its just war, we maintain that we will approach all our battles exactly as that original battle was fought by our forefather Avraham. What drove Avraham—the paragon of chesed, whose kindness was extended to every wandering stranger, who prayed to G-d to spare even the evil city of Sodom—to go to war? Avraham, who treasured life, waged war to save life, not to destroy it. He went to battle to rescue Lot,4 to save a hostage, to sanctify Hashem’s Name by standing up in defense of the oppressed.5 That value of saving lives drove him to battle and made him successful, and it is the very same value that drives our beloved chayalei Tzahal to this day.

The Jewish people will do what we have to, justly and fairly, to secure the State of Israel. How we wish we did not have to fight this war! We yearn for this war to end, for us to be able to be the source of blessing to all, which is our mission and purpose. We want the reservists to go back to their work developing medical breakthroughs and technological advances. We want the IDF soldiers to return to their jobs, to their universities and to their Torah studies, and to go back to assisting

.

. . their narrative isn’t couched in hatred and racism but in the high language of morality and principle and of standing up for the oppressed, undermining the moral standing of Israel and the Jewish people and creating Jews of Shame.

those facing disaster around the world. We want to help others thrive. We so wish we could live in peace with all and that the gift of Israel be felt by all, allowing us to be a source of blessing to all.

That is our narrative. We are not ashamed and will never be ashamed of the blessing that is Judaism and Israel. We must become experts at saying it, repeating it, making it clear loudly and proudly, and—most of all—living it, personifying the Talmud’s6 portrayal of the Jew of Torah whose interactions with all people are characterized by integrity and pleasantness. When our faith is reflected in our exquisite character and values and we champion those values, the Jews of Shame will be transformed into proud Jews, generating love and admiration for G-d and His Torah. “Avdi atah, Yisrael asher becha etpaeir. You are My servant, Israel, through whom I am glorified.”7 Heyei berachah.

Notes

1. Ta”z (Turei Zahav), OC 570:3.

2. Bereishit 12:2.

3. Devarim 4:6.

4. Bereishit 14:14.

5. Bereishit Rabbah 43:2, Yefei To’ar

6. Yoma 86a.

7. Yeshayahu 49:3

PUTTING HOPE TO WORK

By Rabbi Dr. Josh Joseph

It has been a challenging year for the Jewish people. As of this writing, fourteen months after October 7, Israel still finds itself in a multifront war, with many of its citizens consistently under rocket fire in their own homes and communities, not to mention those bravely and unbelievably continuing to protect us in their active or reserve duty with the IDF.

Fourteen months is a long time. Many have posed concerns about fatigue, frustration and just plain exhaustion as the war toll sets in. How do we go on when hostages remain in the tunnels of Gaza and husbands and fathers remain away from their homes?

We hope.

In a piece for Commentary Magazine (“Hersh Goldberg-Polin and ‘The Hope,’” September 2, 2024, https:// www.commentary.org/seth-mandel/ hersh-goldberg-polin-and-the-hope/) immediately following the horrible discovery of the murder of six hostages, Seth Mandel writes:

Hope is in our DNA. For 2,000 years it’s been passed down from generation to generation. We are born and bred to hope. And look—we made it, we fulfilled

our longing by reestablishing sovereignty in our homeland. . . . Sometimes the hope is followed by triumph, as it was in 1948. Sometimes the hope is shattered by what follows, as it was this weekend. But the hope itself is never wrong. It’s why we’re still here.

The Jewish people are a people of hope. Our nation was established on it— Avraham and Sarah were left to assume they would never have children of their own, yet they held on to hope. The national anthem of our beloved Jewish state is “Hatikvah”—literally, “the hope.” Avraham and Sarah, against all odds, did have a child, without whom our nation would never have come to be. And after two thousand years of being exiled from our land, against all odds we did build a Jewish state, without which we cannot imagine life today. We pray for the day that we can similarly comment on the current war as we continue to hope, pray and act for it to end.

Hope is a tool we exercise not only in our faith, in our religious lives and in times of stress. We use hope, as well as its close cousin—optimism—in our dayto-day work. As Daniel Goleman points out in his book What Makes a Leader: why emotional intelligence matters (2014): “And of course, optimism and organizational commitment are fundamental to leadership—just try to imagine running a company without them.” Indeed, if you don’t believe in your mission and/or product, in yourself, and in your team, can you truly lead?

There are several ways hope and optimism can be manifested in the workplace.

1. Belief in a Higher Purpose: I’m asked from time to time if I love my job . . . and I do! But I’ve found that when I tell people I do, they assume I love all of it, that it’s just a joy. That resonates with the similarly risky notion that “. . .if you love

what you do, you’ll never work a day in your life.” While that may be true for the elite few, most of us are faced with difficult moments, days, people and situations—and so we need to hold on to something larger than ourselves. This is why when developing a strategic plan, one must outline not only a mission that serves a greater purpose but also a vision that imagines a brighter future. During a visit to the NASA Space Center in 1962, President John F. Kennedy met a janitor who was carrying a broom down the hallway. The president casually asked the janitor what he was doing, and the janitor replied, “I’m helping put a man on the moon.” Believing that your work is tied to something bigger helps you to be hopeful even when you might simply be cleaning up a mess.

2. Belief in Yourself: As an employee on a team, you will have a specific job description outlining tasks and desired outcomes, some of which may be in your current skill set or bandwidth. But not all. With time, success at those tasks has the potential to breed greater responsibility and the opportunity to flex new or underdeveloped work muscles. There is a high likelihood that you will fail at something. How you react in that moment may make all the difference. Do you attempt to learn from it—to “fail forward,” to seek advice, coaching and expertise from others with more experience? Or do you lose faith in yourself, withdraw into a shell and wait for things to pass? The more you

Rabbi Dr.

Josh Joseph is executive vice president/chief operating officer of the Orthodox Union

SUCCEED WITH US

Fueled by passion, skills and a values-based education, Yeshiva University graduates are thriving in high-impact careers across a wide range of industries at companies like Google, Amazon, Goldman Sachs and Bloomberg. This is the kind of success that draws students to YU. Backed by a results-driven career center and a network of over 70,000 alumni, our students are poised to become the leaders of the next generation. IT’S YOUR TIME TO RISE AT YESHIVA UNIVERSITY

believe in yourself, the greater your courage and confidence to try new things, to learn from them and to grow. This can only happen if you have optimism, if you believe that you can reach for more. One of the hardest things to do is to raise your hand and offer to lead a project. A typical reaction might be, “I already have a full-time job!” Recently, a younger colleague of mine saw that there was a need to help run a program. It was beyond her level of experience, but she stepped up and helped to successfully deliver the project. She owned it, learned from it and now leads it.

3. Belief in Others: Perhaps the greatest challenge for some is to believe in their teams, colleagues or bosses. You may have been let down before by a breakdown in communication or execution, an email left unread, a project delayed because someone didn’t do something you could have handled. Perhaps you see opportunity after opportunity for coordination or collaboration that others miss, perhaps even willfully. Unlike other baseball teams, the New York Yankees famously do not put individual names on the back of their jerseys, preferring to let the name on the front of the jersey speak for them as a team, helping them stay focused on the notion that they must rely on each other. Trusting your fellow professionals— bosses, peers, direct reports and beyond—is so fundamental and yet often elusive. Cynicism has increased steadily over the past fifty years, ensnaring many of us in an ironic mental trap: when people believe they must fight their way to the top, they are less likely to get there. In “Why Cynics Are Less Likely to Succeed,” (Harvard Business Review, August 2024, https://hbr.org/2024/08/ why-cynics-are-less-likely-to-succeed), Jamil Zaki, professor of psychology at Stanford University, makes the case that those leaders who “make trust the default” and are the first to trust are far more successful than their cynical and doubting counterparts. Despite loud, extreme and toxic voices that

often dominate public conversations, most people really want to believe in others and in their potential. Optimistic leadership can and does change this negative pull on employee belief and behavior. When managers believe in their employees, they can change how employees feel about themselves, and help them envision success aligned with the company’s mission. Leaders have a powerful opportunity to create conditions in which people can express their desire for a more collaborative, positive culture. Trust, optimism and hope are key tools for leaders in the workplace and beyond.

Rabbi Lord Jonathan Sacks brilliantly wrote in To Heal a Fractured World: The Ethics of Responsibility ([New York, 2007] 166):

Optimism and hope are not the same. Optimism is the belief that the world is changing for the better; hope is the belief that, together, we can make the world better.

Optimism is a passive virtue, hope an active one. It needs no courage to be an optimist, but it takes a great deal of courage to hope. The Hebrew Bible is not an optimistic book. It is, however, one of the great literatures of hope.

We are not just people of optimism; we are people of hope. Many people can think optimistically and positively. Not all can dream, strategize, set goals and truly believe in a better future for us and for our people.

We have recently entered the dark winter months and will soon celebrate Chanukah, the second Chanukah we will celebrate amidst war. Rabbi Sacks extends his teaching about hope and optimism with a beautiful Chanukah lesson. There is a well-known discussion in the Gemara about using a Chanukah light to light another. Of course, our practice is to use an extra light, the shamash, to light the others. But what about using one of the actual Chanukah lights to light the others? Rav argues that one may not do so, as we’d be diminishing the light of one candle to supply light to another candle. Shmuel disagrees, and this famous discussion becomes one of only three instances where we follow Shmuel. Why?

Indeed, if you don’t believe in your mission . . . in yourself, and in your team, can you truly lead?

Shmuel’s reasoning explains that when you share your light, when you reach out to others, when you extend your help, your knowledge or your faith, not only does your own quantity not diminish, but it actually increases. When I share with you, I’m not left with less—I gain.

Hope embodies the idea that when we actively work together, when we lovingly share with others and courageously give of ourselves, we can truly make the world a better place.

How will you exercise your hope today?

DEFENDERS

Family and friends of Master Sergeant Tzvika Lavi honored the fallen soldier at his funeral at the Mount Herzl Military Cemetery in Jerusalem on December 12, 2023.

Photo: Yonatan Sindel/Flash90

Sarah Hershenson

Twenty-four-year-old Amichai Yisrael Yehoshua Oster was in Salt Lake City, Utah, when he received his “Tzav 8” (emergency call-up notice) from the IDF. Having completed his required IDF service, he was to report for duty as a reservist. However, when he contacted his commander, he was told they had “over 100 percent affirmative answers.” His commander told him: “You do not have to come back right now.” Nevertheless, Amichai flew back to Israel as quickly as he could, found a different unit that needed a soldier with his skills, and was sent to the Gaza border.

“He joined the thousands of young men who rushed back to Israel to fight for their country and for all of us,” says his mother, Marcy.

This past January, Sergeant First Class Amichai from Karnei Shomron, of the 5th Brigade’s 7020th Battalion, was killed fighting in Gaza. “He did exactly what he wanted to do, and he died doing it. Now he will be frozen in our memories as a brave, caring, beautiful young man . . . a quiet hero,” says Marcy.

Since the advent of the war in Gaza, bereaved families are tragically becoming a growing sector of Israeli society, a sector intimately connected to one another through pain and loss. And yet at the same time, many of these families, like the sons they sacrificed, are imbued with a strong sense of spiritual mission. Even while grieving, these mothers, fathers, siblings and wives take comfort in knowing their loved ones sacrificed their lives for a sacred cause: serving G-d and the Jewish people by defending the Jewish State.

She recalls that when her son returned home to join the war, “I told him I felt responsible for the fact that he was fighting in this war. He didn’t make the decision to come on aliyah. I made it for him.

[The Osters had made aliyah from Cleveland when Amichai was a toddler.] He said, ‘What makes you think that had you not made aliyah I would not have come here to fight for this country?’

“He was strong in his religious beliefs and firm in his connection to the State of Israel,” says Marcy.

The Osters have four other children, including a daughter who recently got married. “It hasn’t been an easy time,” says Marcy, a journalist working for Ynetnews. “We have been strengthened by the most amazing support from the community of Karnei Shomron, by Amichai’s friends, by the IDF, by complete strangers from all over Israel who have given to us and helped us in every way. . . . The tremendous amount of care shown us has been overwhelming.”

After high school, Amichai decided to attend Yeshiva Shavei Hevron, where he spent two and a half years in a program of advanced Torah learning. Afterward, he enlisted in the IDF, where he served for three years.

“Amichai loved this land—all of it. He was determined to serve his country,” says Marcy.

Sarah Hershenson, a resident of Netanya, made aliyah with her family in 1991 from New Jersey. Her feature stories and critical reviews appear in the Jerusalem Post and other English-language publications.

Upon completing his army service, Amichai wanted to pursue his interest in travel. “He enjoyed exploring the length and breadth of Israel,” says Marcy. His dream was to travel to the Far East, which he did. While Amichai was in Vietnam, the Osters received an email from an Israeli friend of a businessman who had met Amichai during his travels. “We were proud to hear Amichai had the same ideals and practices in the Far East as he had in Israel,” says Marcy. “We were told he was a ‘walking kiddush Hashem.’ He put on tefillin each morning, davened, ate kosher and kept Shabbat. When the group he traveled with told him they would like to continue hiking on Shabbat, he would tell them to go ahead and he would catch up with them. Inevitably, the group would decide to find a Chabad and spend the Shabbat together. Amichai’s quiet, dedicated example set the tone for others to follow.”

Sergeant First Class Amichai

Oster davening with tefillin just hours before he was killed. Courtesy of the Oster family

A Spiritual Mission

Yeshivat Bnei David, in the settlement of Eli, has lost a disproportionate number of students since the Swords of Iron War began. A religious pre-army mechinah, renowned for its high number of graduates who enlist in combat units in the IDF, Bnei David lost twenty-three of its alumni. As of this writing, since October 7, Israel lost more than 787 soldiers, officers and reservists.

Regarded as “a West Point for Religious Zionists,” Bnei David, with about 1,200 students currently enrolled in its programs, is said to “build your soul,” giving soldiers not only physical training but more importantly, a sense of spiritual mission.

“Being a Jew means you are willing to give up your life,” says Rabbi Eli Sadan, the venerated rosh yeshivah of Bnei David, in a video entitled “In Your Blood You Shall Live: Emunah and Remembrance,” co-produced by Bnei David and the OU (https://www. ou.org/yom-hazikaron-2024/). In 2016, Rabbi Sadan, who founded the yeshivah in 1988, was awarded one of Israel’s highest honors, the Israel Prize for lifetime achievement and special contribution to society and the State. Like his rebbeim at Yeshivat Mercaz HaRav in Jerusalem, Rabbi Tzvi Yehuda Kook and Rabbi Zvi Thau, Rabbi Sadan firmly believes that the founding of the State of Israel marks the beginning of Redemption. Consequently, defending the state is a mitzvah, a historic and religious mission.

This echoes the ideas expressed by Rabbi Aharon Lichtenstein, who wrote (“The Ideology of Hesder,” Tradition 19:3 [fall 1981]):

Remembering Those Who Gave Their Lives

How do we memorialize so many soldiers? That was the question the OU asked prior to this past year’s Yom Hazikaron.

In response, the OU launched B’Yachad LaNetzach, a project commemorating the hundreds of soldiers who made the ultimate sacrifice in the aftermath of October 7 by pairing fallen soldiers with shuls and schools. Since the program launched, 275 institutions have participated and continue to participate in this project by learning and doing mitzvot in their soldiers’ memory and connecting to the bereaved families. To learn more, contact motzeny@ou.org.

We advocate [young men joining hesder] because we are convinced that, given our circumstances—would that they were better—military service is a mitsvah, and a most important one at that. Without impugning the patriotism or ethical posture of those who think otherwise, we feel that for the overwhelming majority of b’nei torah, defense is a moral imperative.

“We are living in a generation in which responsibility for the security of the State of Israel and her citizens is a supreme value,” said Rabbi Sadan in an interview posted on the Bnei David website. “We are writing the most meaningful moments in the history of our people and the whole world.”

Tzvika Lavi

One of the alumni of Bnei David who lost his life in the Gaza war this year was Master Sergeant Tzvika Lavi.

A resident of the Binyamin region town of Eli, Tzvika was thirty-one years old when he was badly injured in one of the ongoing battles in Gaza on November 20, 2023; he succumbed to his injuries on Chanukah. He left behind parents, four siblings, his wife Talia and three children under the age of five.

“Physically, he left, but spiritually he remains with us,” says Talia.

Rabbi Eli Sadan, rosh yeshivah of the Bnei David mechinah (army preparatory academy), looking at the photos of his students who have sacrificed their lives defending Am Yisrael.

Tzvika was a social worker working in a hostel in Rosh HaAyin for individuals with mental health problems and addictions. Working there for two and a half years, he touched the hearts of so many patients and colleagues that after he was killed, the facility was renamed in his honor and is now called “Beit Lavi Hostel.”

“Family was important to him,” says Talia, “and before Shabbat candle-lighting in our home, Tzvika made sure to have quiet time to spend with our children. His goal was to be a better person every day, and we try to follow in his footsteps.”

“You should not worry about me,” Tzvika told his mother, Miriam, in her last conversation with him. “It’s not about me; it’s about our country. We will get through this.”

After he was injured, he was transferred to the Assuta Medical Center in Ashdod, where he was sedated and ventilated for three weeks until Chanukah, when he passed away. “After he was injured, we prayed and felt the comfort of prayers for his recovery from people all over the world,” says Talia. “However, on Chanukah [the doctors told us], we needed to say goodbye. As our family stood around Tzvika, we sang the songs from seudah shelishit that he loved. I had the zechut to say Shema in his last moments.” Talia feels a deep sense of gratitude to Hashem that she had time to say goodbye, giving her a sense of closure.

“At first, when he was injured and lying in the hospital, I envisioned his recovery and told myself he would be okay. Once he died, I realized that the ‘okay’ would be a different sort of okay. Yet I knew it would be good,” she says.

Talia says their community is building a synagogue in Tzvika’s memory.

The eldest of four siblings, Tzvika was born after his parents went through many years of fertility treatments. The Puah Institute, which is based in Israel and helps couples with fertility problems, is naming a new psychology program in Tzvika’s honor for those going through treatments.

Talia, the wife of Tzvika Lavi, says her late husband used to make sure to have quiet time before Shabbat candle-lighting to spend with his children. Seen here, Talia holding one of her and Tzvika’s three children.

“There are no fallen soldiers”

Like Amichai and Tzvika, many young Religious Zionists who serve in the IDF are infused with a love of Torah, the Land of Israel and the Jewish people. In fact, a significant number of them go on to become career officers who devote many years of their lives to exemplary military service. “Approximately fifty percent of our alumni have served as IDF officers in fighting units and elite commando units,” says Lior Shtul, CEO, Bnei David. Many distinguished fallen soldiers are among Bnei David alumni, including Emmanuel Moreno, a member of Sayeret Matkal, an elite IDF unit, who was killed in the 2006 Lebanon War and has been compared to Bar Kochba.

How does the yeshivah view the enormous sacrifice—more than twenty precious alumni since October 7? This is the price we have to pay, they maintain. “The Land of Israel is acquired through tribulations,” explains Rabbi Yigal Levinstein, one of the founders and co-directors of Bnei David, in a video on the yeshivah website. “This tribulation [the latest war] is of love, not punishment. This is a process of growth. We grow from adversity.”

Those who fall for the city of Jerusalem are not called fallen. . . . There are no fallen . . . only those who cleave to Hashem.

In the Religious Zionist worldview, soldiers who die al kiddush Hashem are not just viewed as military heroes— they are spiritual heroes.

When we talk about soldiers who give their lives, we use the word “nofel,” one who has fallen. But, says Rabbi Levenstein, this is incorrect. Those who put their lives on the line for the Jewish people are elevated to the highest levels. “Those who fall for the city of Jerusalem are not called fallen. Those who fight for Jerusalem are cleaving to Hashem. There are no fallen . . . only those who cleave to Hashem.”

Captain Ori Shani

Hundreds of bereaved families in Israel feel strongly about the need to attain victory in the current war and eliminate Hamas. They feel their loved ones went to battle with a goal, and they want that goal fulfilled.

One of the major voices representing these families is the HaGevurah Forum, which represents bereaved families of soldiers, led by Rabbi Yehoshua Shani of Kiryat Arba, chairman of the Forum and himself a bereaved parent, father of Captain Ori Shani.

A platoon commander in the 51st Battalion of the Golani Brigade, Captain Shani, twenty-two years old, was killed in a battle near Kibbutz Kissufim on October 7. “His men embodied the best and he loved them,” remembers Rabbi Shani. “He worked them very hard so they would develop their bodies, their minds and their skills. They were ready for war and fought valiantly.”

He and his team were heralded for their incredible bravery, and they are credited with saving the lives of many and neutralizing more than thirty-five terrorists in the aftermath of the Simchat Torah attack. They fought relentlessly until they were surrounded; they were running out of ammunition and were nearly without water.

“After three hours of fighting, the men were exhausted. To boost their spirits, even with terrorists still around, Ori took a selfie with his soldiers,” says his father. After they killed numerous terrorists, he led his soldiers into the Kissufim base to replenish their ammunition, when he was fatally struck by shrapnel. Posthumously, he was promoted from the rank of lieutenant to captain.

As an officer in an elite unit, Ori had a goal not only to bring his men to the highest level of training, but also to help deepen their understanding of Zionism, their faith and their love of Eretz Yisrael. He used to spend Friday afternoons with his wife Miriam and young son traveling all across Israel before Shabbat to the homes of the men in his unit to establish a deep personal connection with them.

After his death, Miriam brought his parents a folder in which Ori would write down his goals, dreams and views on the national situation. “His writings help us

cope and give us strength,” says Rabbi Shani.

Ori had been a lover of books and was especially interested in military history. In his memory, Rabbi Shani and his wife, Shulamit, are establishing a children’s library at Nof Harim elementary school in Modi’in, which their grandchildren attend.

Rabbi Avraham Yitzchak HaKohen Kook once wrote: “Great wars quicken the footsteps of Mashiach and advance the redemption of Israel. Because uprooting tyrants and the triumph of good over evil prepare the world for the great light of Israel.”

This belief continues to give many bereaved families the strength to carry on.

“We paid a big price,” says Rabbi Shani. “We lost our youngest son. But because of our son and the other soldiers fighting evil, we will have a better world.”

We are living in a generation in which responsibility for the security of the State of Israel and her citizens is a supreme value . . . We are writing the most meaningful moments in the history of our people and the whole world.

Friends and fellow soldiers mourn the loss of Master Sergeant Tzvika Lavi, one of Israel's fallen defenders.

Photo: Yonatan Sindel/Flash90

The Ultimate Sacrifice

The Faith and Courage of IDF Widows

By Carol Ungar

Balancing grief with the need to persevere, many of these widows say that faith and community have helped them through their darkest hours.”

Photo: Chaim Goldberg/Flash90

For Chava Zenilman, the dreaded knock on the door came at the close of a family Chanukah party.

“At the time, four men in my family were fighting in Gaza, but the ‘modi’im’ [soldiers tasked with delivering news of a fellow soldier’s death] came straight up to me,” recalls the thirty-one-year-old mother of three. The news they shared was that her husband Ari, thirty-two, had been shot by Hamas terrorists who launched a combined barrage of gunshots and explosives from a school building just outside Khan Yunis.

At that moment, Chava joined a growing Israeli demographic: war widows.

“I understand that Hashem gave us this and that Hashem will send a nechamah,” says Chava. “I know my job here is to serve Hashem and to understand that we don’t understand. Our response is to improve our avodat Hashem and our bein adam lachaveiro.”

Chava is not alone in her expression of deep faith. Balancing grief with the need to persevere, many of these widows say that faith and community have helped them through their darkest hours.

As of this writing, the war has lasted over a year, and 310 women have lost their husbands defending the Jewish state. Of these, thirty-five were pregnant at the time they were widowed. By way of comparison, during the year before the war, the ranks of IDF and police widows grew by twenty.

“This is an enormous rise,” says David Metzler of the IDF Widows and Orphans Organization, a nonprofit NGO that works with the Israeli government to provide emotional and financial support to families of fallen soldiers.

How do these women cope financially?

The Defense Ministry provides a lifetime monthly grant of NIS 10,000, with additional support for underage children. That isn’t always enough. In April, a group of recent IDF widows

lobbied the Knesset to increase the stipend.

Recognizing the importance of maintaining good mental health, the government provides an aid package that includes bereavement therapy and other psychological support. The package is flexible. “You decide what kind of therapy would be best for you and your kids— horseback riding, art, music,” says Chava whose children receive counseling. She receives counseling for herself as well to help her adjust to her new role as a single parent. “Ari left for war a week after our youngest was born. He saw our baby four times,” she says.

Carol Green Ungar is an awardwinning writer whose essays have appeared in Tablet, the Jerusalem Post, Ami Magazine, Jewish Action and other publications. She teaches memoir writing and is the author of several children’s books.

Ari and Chava Zenilman. Chava, a thirty-oneyear-old mother of three, became a widow last Chanukah when her husband was killed while fighting in Gaza. Courtesy of Chava Zenilman

Jerusalem Mayor Moshe Lion accompanied six-year-old Achiya Zenilman on his first day of school.

Courtesy of Arnon Bossani/Mayor’s Spokesman

INTRODUCING!

The Koren Eden Shabbat H . umash

Elevate your Shabbat experience with the new Koren Eden Shabbat H . umash. This beautifully crafted edition includes the complete Humash with Haftarot, featuring Rabbi Sacks' acclaimed translation. Enhance your prayer with tefillot for Shabbat and Rosh H . odesh, complete with English rubrics, and special prayers for the State of Israel, the IDF, and the hostages.

Designed with the world-renowned Koren typefaces and formatting, this H . umash offers a seamless reading experience. Choose from a variety of sizes and formats—flexcover, paperback, or hardback—each with durable pages and stunning covers, ensuring it’s a lasting addition to your bookshelf.

Discover the perfect balance of tradition and elegance with the Koren Eden Shabbat H . umash.

Contemporary Halakhic Problems •

by Rabbi J. David Bleich

Volume VIII

Understanding Halakhah requires appreciating the subtle interplay between timeless principles and complex, ever-changing realities. The contemporary student of Halakhah must assess not only the questions of today, but also anticipate the questions of tomorrow. In the latest volume of the world favorite Contemporary Halakhic Problems, Rabbi J. David Bleich not only offers a compelling analysis of the principles and methodology of Jewish law, but also provides lucid summaries and analyses of classic halakhic questions together with pioneering applications of Jewish law to current social, political, technological and religious issues, such as: Autonomous automobiles • Contemporary refrigerators • Coronavirus queries • Assignment of ventilators • Disposal of fertilized ova • Use of tobacco and cannabis • Civil divorce and mourning • Smoking on Yom Tov

Chava, who lives in Ma’ale Adumim, is functioning well and caring for her children despite the hole in her heart. “It amazes me how heartbroken I am. I was devastated that this was what Hashem had chosen for me,” she says.

“We used to love Shabbat at home. My husband would take the kids to shul and put them under his tallit for Birkat Kohanim. Now, my six-year-old son struggles to find his place in shul without a father to guide him.”

Living as fully as possible is a coping strategy for Chava. Right after the sheloshim ended, she returned to medical school. “I felt a need to be active, to do something,” she says. The medical school she attends allowed her to adjust her schedule so she could spend more time at home.

Still, it’s tough. Like many couples, Chava and her late husband, Ari, a computer programmer who attended Yeshivat Har Etzion, shared responsibility for taking care of the children and the home. “We were a team. We did what we needed to do, and the family came first. Ari was a great husband and father,” she says.

Her family—both her parents and her in-laws—helps. So do friends, and even strangers. “Every day, I have offers to take the kids to the park. People think of their strengths and how they can help.”

In fact, at the beginning of the school year, Jerusalem Mayor Moshe Lion accompanied six-year-old Achiya to first grade on his first day of school.

“We aren’t forgotten”

Another Gaza war widow warmed by the Jewish people’s collective embrace is forty-one-year-old Torah teacher Hadas Loewenstern, whose husband Rabbi Elisha Loewenstern, a software engineer and a serious Torah scholar, was also killed in Gaza on Chanukah. “An antitank missile shot him. It was a straight hit. He died on the spot,” she says.

Since then, Hadas, who lives in Harish, a city between Netanya and Haifa, hasn’t gone through a single day when she didn’t receive something. “Presents, money, food. It’s unbelievable. We feel that we

I gave my husband to the Jewish people, and if it means there’ll be achdut among Klal Yisrael, I’m prepared to accept it . . . But if the Jewish people are going to continue to fight with each other, then as far as I’m concerned, he died for nothing.”

aren’t forgotten. Much of this help is provided by strangers,” she says.

Right after thirty-eight-year-old Master Sgt. Loewenstern’s death, a dozen men flew in from the Five Towns on Long Island to comfort Hadas. “They sang and danced and brought gifts for my kids,” she recalls. She also recalls a Chareidi man from Brooklyn who arrived at her door just before Pesach. “He sat on my couch and said, ‘Whatever you need, we are with you.’” Another kindly stranger presented her with an envelope filled with blank checks. “I haven’t touched this money, and I don’t plan to, but the gesture was deeply moving,” she says.

What moves her is the feeling of unity underscoring these actions. “We are all brothers. Am Yisrael is bursting with love, and we are the ones to accept some of this love.”

With six children under the age of thirteen—the oldest twelve and the youngest not even a year old—Hadas has a lot to handle. “People always ask me what the most difficult time is. I can’t predict it. Whenever a woman needs her husband, when they consult with and are there for each other, that’s when I miss Elisha the most.”

But she is neither bitter nor angry. “Nobody stays in this world for more than 120 years,” Hadas is quoted as saying in an article on Aish.com. “The question is: how did you live in the time that was allotted to you? I look at Elisha and I say to myself— he passed the test with flying colors. He lived an exemplary life. And this also gives me comfort, because I know that G-d was very happy with the way Elisha lived.”

Hadas Loewenstern, a forty-one-yearold Torah teacher, became a widow last Chanukah when her husband, Rabbi Elisha Loewenstern, was killed in Gaza.

A month after her husband’s death, Hadas, determined to share her husband’s legacy with the world, began recording short videos, expressing her admiration for her heroic husband. The videos went viral. Since then, she has been interviewed on many popular podcasts and flies to the US to give talks, her stirring emunah captivating thousands of listeners. Every day, she speaks with Jews who come to see her from all over the globe. “Elisha lived a beautiful life full of love of Hashem,” she says. “When you have something this good, you want people to know it.”

Hadas senses that Hashem took her husband so the Jewish people could get to know him.

“G-d decided that Elisha should live in this world for thirty-eight years. He could have died in any other way, like in a car accident, and nobody would have heard about him. I truly feel that because of his special qualities and beautiful personality, G-d wanted the world to know about him.

"When you have a body, you are very limited. Hashem wanted Elisha to be unlimited. It has become my life’s mission to let every Jew know that a righteous man named Elisha lived in this world,” she says.

“I

gave my husband to the Jewish people”

Shortly after the Hamas massacre, some forty pulpit rabbis and lay leaders from Orthodox communities around North America went on an OU mission to Israel. The itinerary included a meeting with Dana Cohen.

Dana is the widow of Aviad Cohen, who sacrificed his life on October 7 in defense of the Gaza border communities. The family lived in Shlomit, a Religious Zionist village situated four miles from the border with the Gaza Strip. After the Shlomit security team learned about the terrorist infiltration in the nearby community of Pri Gan on Simchat Torah, they mobilized to help their neighbors. On that fateful morning, Aviad, a member of the Shlomit security team, left to help defend Pri Gan, where he was fatally shot in a battle with terrorists.

At the meeting with the rabbis, Dana had a single powerful message for the group, recalls Rabbi Yaakov Glasser, the OU’s managing director of communal engagement: Klal Yisrael must have achdut. “I gave my husband to the Jewish people, and if it means there’ll be achdut among Klal Yisrael, I’m prepared to accept it,” Dana told the group. “But if the Jewish people are going to continue to fight with each other, then as far as I’m concerned, he died for nothing.”

Don’t Be Sad

Similar to some of the other widows with whom we spoke, dance and movement therapist Galit Vizel, thirty-five, is using her widowhood to celebrate her husband’s memory. Vizel’s husband, Chief Sergeant Elkana Vizel, thirty-five, was killed in January in an explosion that took the lives of twenty-two soldiers.

“Elkana was a very special man who sacrificed himself for Am Yisrael,” says Vizel, who lives in Bnei Dekalim with her four children. A teacher and rebbi, as well as a gifted juggler, Rabbi Vizel had been injured during Operation Protective Edge in 2014. As a result, he was exempt from reserve duty and wasn’t called up on October 7. But he felt a need to join the fight. “He used connections to be drafted,” recalls Galit.

Since Rabbi Vizel's passing, Galit has poured her energies into creating Beit Elkana, a center she hopes to build in Bnei Dekalim for people coping with pain, which was a dream the couple shared. The home will become a center for physical and emotional healing and will be equipped with therapy rooms, a therapeutic swimming pool, and a coffee shop staffed by special-needs adults. So far, she has raised one million of the eight million shekels needed to get the project up and running.

“I’m no longer a private person. I am a person of Am Yisrael. I give my soul to continue to live al kiddush Hashem and to raise my kids with joy,” says Galit.

Rabbi Vizel, a graduate of the Hesder yeshivah in Ramat Gan, wrote a letter to his loved ones before going into war. At his levayah, his widow read the letter.

If you are reading these words, something must have happened to me. If I was kidnapped, I demand that no deal be made for the release of any terrorist to release me. Our overwhelming victory is more important than anything, so please continue to work with all your might so that the victory is as overwhelming as possible.

Maybe I fell in battle. When a soldier falls in battle, it is sad, but I ask you to be happy. Don’t be sad when you part with me. Touch hearts, hold each other’s hands, and strengthen each other. We have so much to be proud and happy about.

We are writing the most significant moments in the history of our nation and the entire world. So please, be happy, be optimistic, keep choosing life all the time. Spread love, light, and optimism. . . . I was already wounded in Operation Tzuk Eitan, but I do not regret that I returned to fight. This is the best decision I ever made.

At a press conference held following the building collapse that killed the soldier, Prime Minister Netanyahu quoted from his letter, making Rabbi Vizel famous throughout the Jewish world.

The words in her husband’s last letter remain a source of strength for Galit. “Elkana died for the Jewish people,” she says. “That is the best way to die.”

Galit Vizel and her husband, Chief Sergeant Elkana Vizel. Rabbi Vizel, thirty-five, was killed in January in an explosion that took the lives of twenty-two soldiers in Gaza.

DISCOVER WITH US

With pioneering health science programs, state-ofthe-art labs, and world-renowned faculty, Yeshiva University provides the highest levels of academic excellence together with a values-based education. Boasting nearly 100% acceptance rates into the world’s most prestigious medical and dental schools, YU has established itself as the top choice for tomorrow’s healthcare leaders. Our graduates break barriers—shaping and transforming the future of science and medicine.

IT’S YOUR TIME TO RISE AT YESHIVA UNIVERSITY

In the wake of October 7, thousands of American Jews, once disconnected from their heritage, are now embracing their roots. In fact, according to the Jewish Federations of North America, since the Hamas massacre, more than four in ten American Jews have either sought out or engaged more with Jewish life. Known as "October 8th Jews," these formerly unaffiliated Jews are now eager to learn more about Judaism. So, how can the Orthodox community rise to meet this moment? How do we ensure our shuls, schools and communities are truly welcoming to those seeking to come home?

To help us answer these questions, we turned to leading rabbis, rebbetzins and outreach professionals. In the symposium ahead, we feature their responses along with showcasing innovative programs in the world of outreach. While this is not an exhaustive list, it’s intended to spark fresh ideas and help us answer a crucial question: What more can we do to welcome these newly awakened Jews into our community?

How should the Orthodox community respond to this great Jewish awakening? Here are their responses.

What Jews Really Want

By Liel Leibovitz

Awhile back, I was talking to my dear friend and teacher Rabbi Meir Y. Soloveichik about how we should engage the throngs of Jews who are flocking to the faith in the aftermath of October 7. “Simple,” Rabbi Soloveichik quipped. “We should begin by realizing that we got it all wrong when we named our college student outreach group after Hillel. What we ought to do now,” he continued, “is to form a new organization called Shammai: instead of joyful Shabbat dinners, entertaining movie screenings and lively talks, we should offer anyone curious about Judaism seven hours of intense Torah study followed by another three of Aramaic for beginners. And there ought to be a sign above the door that reads, ‘Abandon any hope of having fun, ye who enter.’”

Like all great jokes, this one, too, contains more than a grain of painful truth. Attend any conversation about education, outreach or any of the other subtle arts of bringing people closer to the faith, and sooner or later you hear someone say something empathic about meeting people where they are.

But what if the opposite is true? What if those perplexed Jews whose desire for Yiddishkeit was rekindled in the aftermath of tragedy are looking not for convenience but for a real life-changing challenge?

And changing lives is what this moment is all about. To the extent that we frail mortals can begin to comprehend Hashem’s plan for us, we must believe that those moments that strike us as intolerably painful are here not as punishments but as an opportunity an all-loving G-d is giving us to rethink what matters and repair what needs

Liel Leibovitz is editor at large for Tablet Magazine, and the host of Rootless, its weekly flagship podcast, and Take One, its daily Daf Yomi podcast. He is also a frequent contributor to the New York Post, the Wall Street Journal, and other publications. A recovering academic, he serves as a senior research fellow at the Hudson Institute. He is the author of several books, including, most recently, How the Talmud Can Change Your Life: Surprisingly Modern Advice from a Very Old Book, and is currently working on a biography of his great-great grandfather, Rabbi Yosef Chaim Sonnenfeld, zt”l

correction. Would we dare ask our fellow Jews to stand up and really, truly change their lives?

The question is a touchy one. Having spent much time this past year talking to friends on their journey to faith, I’ve become accustomed to a string of predictable questions: How can you sit apart from your wife and daughter at shul? How can you thank Hashem every morning for not making you a woman or a gentile? Isn’t it all just too misogynistic, racist, patriarchal and entirely out of whack with what a good, kind, modern person ought to believe? And for that matter, why let halachah dictate how you live rather than make up your own mind about what to wear, what to eat and whom to marry?

There are many good intellectual answers to these questions and others like them. But what my friends were looking for, I realized, weren’t intellectual answers at all. Instead, they were hoping to catch a glimpse of that rare and true and profoundly unmodern spectacle, a person standing firm in faith and offering a clear and compelling case for choosing right over wrong. They were looking not just for someone to offer them, say, a lively little vort on the parashah, but also for someone to tell them that swiping right on a screen to summon a casual intimate encounter is corrosive to body and spirit alike. Or that there were precisely two genders, and that both were different and immutable, and that pretending otherwise is an affront to all that is holy and good. Or that a life spent gratifying our basest appetites is the saddest way to squander Hashem’s precious gift of being. Put bluntly, they were looking for the one thing that all humans, but particularly those reeling from trauma, desire: a real, serious, meaningful, character-building challenge.

We know, then, exactly what we have to do. Let’s not spend another minute humoring those who, by definition, seek us out for instruction, not indulgence. Let’s offer a serious, demanding, uphill path into the faith, one that is as eminently forgiving of failure as it is uncompromising about effort. To those who want to grow and change and flourish, let’s offer everything we can. To those in the market for yet another facile lifestyle affectation, let’s show them the door.

Leave No Neshamah Behind

By Rebbetzin Gevura Davis, as told to Merri Ukraincik

My husband and I have been working in kiruv as a team for almost eighteen years. Our approach has always been: What can we do to welcome more Jews into the community tent?

Getting kiruv right is especially important since October 7, with so many previously unengaged Jews suddenly eager to explore their roots. We as a community must do a better job of creating opportunities that intrigue them enough to both show up initially and come back for more.

First impressions matter. Our shul membership is about 50 percent observant Jews who are ba’alei teshuvah. The rest are beginning to learn and grow through our outreach initiatives. At our shul, Aish Chaim, which serves the greater Philadelphia area, we have created a space where every single Jew who walks through the door knows he'll meet a rabbi and rebbetzin who will listen to him and value him, no matter his level of observance, knowledge or background. Our motto is Leave no neshamah behind. We greet everyone with unconditional love.

Practically speaking, that means we show genuine interest in their lives, asking about their families and careers, their beliefs and struggles. Only then do we broach anything spiritual. These Jews are smart and successful and want to learn about Judaism in an authentic, intellectually honest way. If they raise a question I cannot answer, we research and figure it out together.

Kiruv is not about us, the professionals. Everything we do is within the framework of Jewish values, of course. But we don’t push an agenda. Our goal is to inspire and educate, to enable people to get comfortable with their Jewish identity. We also create a safe space where Jews can openly explore their worries about global antisemitism or events in Israel, topics that are nearly impossible to discuss anywhere else.

Over the past year, we hosted the mother of a murdered soldier as well as hostage awareness events that drew wide audiences, including non-frum first-timers. These programs inspired so many people to commit to helping others during the ongoing crisis, hoping to push back against all the hatred with light.

Rebbetzin Gevura Davis is the director of engagement for Aish Chaim, an outreach and engagement initiative serving the greater Philadelphia Jewish community and an affiliate of Aish HaTorah international.

Merri Ukraincik has written for Tablet, the Lehrhaus, the Forward and other publications, including Jewish Action. She is the author of a book on the history of the Joint Distribution Committee.

For example, some of our members have begun lighting Shabbos candles for hostages who are unable to perform the mitzvah in captivity.

People who never prayed before are now davening daily for an ailing community member. Others give tzedakah to organizations that assist chayalim, reframing their regular charitable giving from a nice thing to do into an act that is deeply, meaningfully Jewish.

Curated opportunities, like our weekly women’s challah bake, offer a sense of belonging. Attendance tripled this year, not only because of resurgent interest in Judaism, but because I personally invited everyone instead of just hanging up a flyer. We’ve included several frum women as well because it shows those who are not yet observant that it’s not only the kiruv professionals who care about them. They see that we are normal and friendly, so when a religious family invites them for a Shabbos meal, they are not only comfortable but very happy to attend.

Still, the impact of our kiruv efforts may not always be so immediate. For example, we recently heard from a very Jewishly engaged young man who has wonderful memories of spending Shabbos with his parents at our home when he was a young child. Every encounter we as Orthodox Jews have with someone who is not frum has the potential to plant a seed that may blossom down the line.

We tread carefully, however. No one wants to feel like a pet project or have a sense that outreach is just a fundraising hook. Sure, the shul electric bill must be paid. But as spiritual entrepreneurs, we have to be careful not to muddle the lines.

Ten-Year Goal to Save Am Yisrael:

One million new Jewish families on the path to keeping Shabbat

By Rabbi Dr. Warren Goldstein

Iwould like to congratulate Jewish Action for initiating this symposium to debate how best to respond to the historic times in which we are living. In free democracies like the United States, antisemitism— while dangerous and harmful—is not an existential threat. The greatest existential threat to Jews in the Diaspora is assimilation.

To address this, we need a strategic rethink. And now is the time to do it. The aftermath of October 7 is escalating the question young Jews are increasingly asking themselves: why be Jewish? If to be Jewish is to exist in a perpetual state of victimhood and isolation, is it worth the trouble? On the other hand, the same forces are evoking feelings of Jewish pride and defiance in the face of senseless hatred.

Perhaps we are thinking too broadly. We are trying to do too many things. The time has come to zero in on one clear goal—for only by doing so will we “make a dent in the universe,” as Steve Jobs once put it. I would like to propose that we redirect every resource we have—human, financial, institutional—toward spreading one mitzvah, a mitzvah that can be a gateway to a spiritual rebirth of a kind we have never seen before. That mitzvah is Shabbat.

Shabbat is uniquely positioned to transform the Jewish world in four ways.

First, Shabbat is the ideological foundation of everything in Torah. Halachically, a person who does not keep Shabbat is considered to be outside the ideological fold of Jewish identity. Shabbat lays the foundation for belief in G-d and for the values of family, faith and community—the pillars of Jewish identity.

Second, Shabbat shapes the cultural fabric of Jewish life. When Jews observe Shabbat, it transforms their entire lifestyle—they live near a shul and become part of a community, and Shabbat itself becomes a weekly touchpoint for family and community.

Third, children who grow up in Shabbat-observant homes are far more likely—by orders of magnitude—to marry Jewish and stay loyal to Jewish values. Shabbat offers parents an opportunity to impart to their children an inspired Jewish

Rabbi Dr. Warren Goldstein is the chief rabbi of South Africa and the founder of the global Shabbat Project that took place in more than 1,500 cities across the globe on November 15–16, 2024. Rabbi Goldstein’s book, Shabbat—A Day to Create Yourself, is available in all formats and has been translated into Hebrew, French and Spanish.

identity—one they can be proud of and excited about. History has shown that, within a few generations, Jewish families without a deep connection to Shabbat assimilate altogether.

Fourth, Shabbat is the aspect of Torah we are most likely to succeed in spreading. More than any other mitzvah, Shabbat is the antidote to some of the greatest social ills modern society is grappling with: high levels of anxiety and discontent and families struggling to connect, distracted and overwhelmed by external stimulation, frenetic communication, and unprecedented professional and social demands.

So I would like to use this platform provided by Jewish Action to propose that the entire Jewish world—Israel and the Diaspora, and especially American Jewry—come together to set an audacious goal: in the next ten years, let’s usher one million new Jewish families on a journey toward keeping Shabbat every week.

Ask yourself this question: if in ten years from now one million new Jewish families were on the path to keeping Shabbat each week, how would that transform Am Yisrael? Everything would look different. In Israel it would unite and inspire a new generation with the meaning of building and defending a Jewish state surrounded by hostile nations.

In the Diaspora, it would stop assimilation in its tracks. Shabbat is the only thing strong enough to do that. To suggest to secular young Jews who do not keep Shabbat that they must not marry non-Jews sounds chauvinistic and irrational. If Judaism is just a quaint cultural heritage, a comfortable ethnic identity, then why shouldn’t they marry out? Only Shabbat provides compelling answers to “why be Jewish.”

Only if you believe in Shabbat and all it stands for—faith in G-d and in our Divine mission and values—does it become clear that this is not the way. Only Shabbat has the power to reverse the current trajectory.

How do we achieve this audacious goal? I believe there is a way. And it starts by every leader, educator and organization, and indeed, every Jew, asking this simple question (to paraphrase JFK): What can I do for Shabbat? How can I help more Jews keep more Shabbat more often? If we all ask that question, come up with meaningful answers, and act on them, we can realize the dream of reaching one million Jewish families.

To illustrate the power of this approach, allow me to offer two examples drawn from my personal sphere of influence.

As chief rabbi of South Africa, with a vibrant community of over 50,000 Jews, I am working with our rabbis, shuls and Jewish schools on a bold new mission: to become the first national community since the Haskalah with a majority shomer Shabbat population. Currently, around 25 percent of the community are Shabbat-observant (among young families, that number rises to around 45 percent).

And as founder of The Shabbat Project, now entering its second decade, I am looking to establish a dedicated Center for Shabbat. The idea is for this new division of the Shabbat Project to work all year round to develop content, programs and training to support rabbis, activists, educators and organizations to inspire and empower more Jews to keep Shabbat. With eleven years of experience creating, designing and refining Shabbat content for all ages and backgrounds, the Shabbat Project is ready to invest in taking this mission to the next level and helping all who are on this journey.

As part of this Center, we are also planning to establish a think tank to research and map Shabbat observance and attitudes across the Jewish world through surveys and focus groups. This research will help deepen our understanding of Shabbat observance, guiding efforts to spread Shabbat throughout the world. It will also study the personal and societal benefits of Shabbat, finding innovative ways to showcase its importance and beauty globally, while collaborating with all levels of Israeli government and civil society.

If every role-player in the Jewish world asks him or herself, “what more can I do to spread Shabbat?” then together we can reach our tenyear target of one million new families on a path to keeping Shabbat, unleashing unimaginable Divine blessings for Klal Yisrael.

Together, we can create a bright new Jewish future, with Shabbat at its heart.

Start-Up Shul:

How to build a welcoming kehillah

By Avital Chizhik-Goldschmidt and Rabbi Binyamin Goldschmidt

The first Shabbos after October 7, our young twoyear-old shul, the Altneu on Manhattan’s Upper East Side, was still renting spaces—we were at the Pierre Hotel ballroom that dark, dark Shabbos.

The previous two days our phones had been alit with conspiracies about a day of rage. Notices about security and terror threats were bombarding us. Many yeshivas had closed their doors or hired additional security teams to mitigate threats. Friday afternoon, the community chat groups were buzzing with discussions about whether to go to shul or not.

Rabbi Benjamin Goldschmidt and Rebbetzin Avital Chizhik-Goldschmidt are the founders of the Altneu Synagogue on Manhattan’s Upper East Side. Photo: Daniel Landesman

But the next morning, everyone showed up.

In that massive, illuminated ballroom, it was standing room only, and how the tears flowed. It was not what we had expected. Jews of all kinds of observance, from all over Manhattan, had made their trek to 61st Street and Fifth Avenue—they needed to be together. They were searching for answers, for a community that gave them soul, uplift.

On the ground, in our community work, we are seeing a tidal shift in Jewish awakening. Every week, we meet Jews who come searching. Jews who didn’t identify strongly before, didn’t make an effort to go to synagogue or connect with a community before, but were shaken awake after October 7. It is an honor to be there for them when they come searching.

Rabbi Binyamin Goldschmidt with shul members.

Courtesy of the Altneu Synagogue

There are a few guiding ideas that we have tried to keep in mind as we built our kehillah:

1. Welcoming culture: Many Manhattan shuls struggle with culture—there is legacy, there is hierarchy, where only the wealthier, older donors are given honors, where newcomers are ignored or not taken seriously. One of the benefits of a start-up shul is that we could create culture from the ground up. Everyone was new! And that created an unusually warm environment across the board, where it was absolutely normal for someone to walk over to a new face and ask her who she is and where she is from. That is one of the most common comments we get when we ask about people’s experience in shul—it is the smallest gestures of kindness that can have the greatest impact on others.

2. Keep it focused on Torah: Many shuls cast a wide programming net, in a desperate attempt to bring people in to fill its halls. This often means relying on politicians and organization leaders, which we believe is a critical mistake. People are coming to shul as a sanctuary away from the world, from the news, from “the issues.” Shul is not the place where we have those conversations. We keep that kind of content to an absolute minimum—and only bring in the most excellent of speakers on these subjects—focusing our efforts instead on Torah that is inspirational, accessible and challenging all at once.

3. Women matter: Oftentimes, 50 percent of Orthodox shuls’ members are not seen. It is critical that shuls take women’s experiences seriously, not simply by providing an occasional challah bake or flower arrangements event but offering real Torah study and lay leadership opportunities. Often we are asked, “How did you create a shul that’s so buzzing?” Well, we try to build a space that speaks to the next generation of young women, not only men. (And guess who shows up if young women are coming to shul? Young men! It’s the 21st-century version of Jerusalem’s fields on Tu b’Av.)

4. Peoplehood is not enough to keep people connected. After October 7, there was a groundswell of searching, but “Jewish identity” programming—that flies many blue and white flags but often lacks substance—won’t be enough to

keep people connected sustainably for a long time. Consider, lehavdil, the traumas of the Holocaust: Memory of that dark era worked for one generation, possibly two, to keep the young connected, but in Manhattan we unfortunately see many grandchildren and great-grandchildren of Holocaust survivors unmoored; the commandment to “marry Jewish and have Jewish kids to spite Hitler” was not enough to keep them close decades later. Let us not allow trauma to define us, as tempting as it may be. The answer lies, to our minds, in the challenges of daily observance, in regular practice and in leading lives inspired by the study of text.

These are some of the lessons we have gathered from building the Altneu, a most humbling and demanding journey—and we hope to only continue learning and improving our service.

Often, we hear triumphalism in the enclaves of the frum community, a rugged sense of confidence: We have the answers! We know what’s the “true way”! How blessed we are!

Post-October 7, as Jews both unaffiliated and cynical search for answers, we think it’s time for the Orthodox community to double down on meaningful outreach, on sharing the blessing of our traditions with others. The need is so heavy; it is overwhelming at times.

This kind of outreach requires mind, heart and soul all at once—intelligence, kindness and inspiration—done with the deepest humility. Let us answer the call of this moment, together.

Rabbi Benjamin and Avital Goldschmidt are the founders of the Altneu Synagogue on Manhattan's Upper East Side.

Rabbi Benjamin Goldschmidt studied in Bnei Brak’s Ponevezh Yeshiva, Jerusalem’s Chevron Yeshiva, Beth Medrash Govoha of Lakewood, New Jersey, and Yeshivas Ohr Reuven in Suffern, New York. Rabbi Goldschmidt’s work has appeared in the New York Times, Haaretz and Mishpacha, among others. Avital is a writer as well as the news editor at The Real Deal; her work has appeared in the Atlantic and the New York Times, among others.

The Altneu Synagogue hosting a Purim event. Photo: Eli Weintraub

Cultivating Jewish Pride

By Rabbi Judah Mischel

We are living in extraordinary times, a tekufah gedolah, a period of great historical importance. War shakes the foundations of the world. As so much of what we assumed to be dependable has toppled and our sense of security crumbles, the infinitely deep and powerful force of Nishmas Yisrael, the Soul of our Nation, is emerging, in the process of being reborn from within the rubble.

Through the pain and suffering, loss and confusion of this unwanted war, there is an awakening of authentic Jewish heroism, gevurah and sacrifice, and a cascade of expressions of faith and renewed identity, sacred acts, expansive consciousness and holy pride. Whether by choice, or by having been “chosen” for this, Jews around the world have been activated. We are asserting our peoplehood, pushing back against rampant antisemitism and standing tall for Am Yisrael and Yiddishkeit.

In this post–October 7 world, there is an eis ratzon, an opportune moment to break out of our passive acceptance of galus and cry out, Ad masai?! How long will we push off becoming who we really are as a people? How long will we cower in the “safety” and comforts of our self-induced exile?

Charvot Barzel, the Swords of Iron War, commenced on the day we adorned our prayers with Mashiv haRuach “Who makes the wind blow,” Who blows into us our national life-breath, the reviving ruach of deep Jewish spirit, strength and soul.

In the exalted days of the Six-Day War, the Lubavitcher Rebbe launched a worldwide campaign to cultivate ge’on Yaakov, authentic Jewish pride, based on a return to Jewish identity, practice, values and rituals and the joy of a Torah life. The Rebbe had assumed the mantle of leadership in the shadow of the Holocaust and was chosen to breathe new life, hope and confidence into a breathless, broken nation emerging from the brink of decimation. The Rebbe’s spiritually radical model of “Mitzvah Campaigns” still challenges members of our community to step out of our comfort zones and share our wealth of knowledge, opportunities and blessings with others. From asking men on the street to lay tefillin and women to light Shabbos candles, to holding massive Lag BaOmer parades and public menorah lightings, the Rebbe made it his mission, and every Jew’s mission, to reach out and reveal the greatness, the treasure, of every Jewish soul.

Ge’on Yaakov entails participating in Jewish life, fulfilling mitzvos, and being empowered by Jewish education and

Rabbi Judah Mischel is executive director of Camp HASC, the Hebrew Academy for Special Children, and mashpia for OU-NCSY. He lives in Ramat Beit Shemesh with his family.

engagement, but it can also manifest geopolitically, as a national sense of self-respect, empowerment and pride. This is komemiyus, standing upright, proud and strong with faith.

Yet it seems that once again we have settled for the status quo, accepting exile as an expected, tolerable, perhaps even respectable, condition. Chas v’shalom! This is the stuckness of conceptzia, a fossilized, detrimental state of self-imposed exile, a deadly galus group-think that divides, weakens and paralyzes Knesses Yisrael. For far too long we have been entrapped in a defeatist mentality, blind to our collective spiritual and national potential, undermining our ge’on Yaakov. But we are essentially a people of great faith and vision who yearn for victory and redemption. We are one people, Am echad ba’aretz. Collectively, our community has the material and spiritual resources to expedite the inevitable glory of Jewish history. The lion is awakening. . . .

A tradition in the name of Rabbi Chaim Volozhiner claims that the American exile will be the final exile of Klal Yisrael. After the pillars of European Jewry would topple, he said, and its great centers of Torah would be destroyed, an unprecedented rebirth would happen in America. This is the final encampment of the Jewish people before we fully reunite in the Promised Land with the arrival of Mashiach. Now we are called upon to ask: What is our next step forward? How can we each contribute to a burst of progress toward the fulfillment of Hashem’s plan and the Torah’s vision for Am Yisrael dwelling in her homeland?

Here are a few practical suggestions for greeting these extraordinary times:

1. Machshavah / Consciousness

Let’s spend time each day thinking about Jewish history, of the Beis Hamikdash, of ancient prophecies currently unfolding, and of rejoicing very soon with the coming of Mashiach and the era of techiyas hameisim. We can include learning Tanach with an open mind and heart, not merely as reviewing the story of our past, but as contemplating real-life indicators of our present . . . and future. Let’s ask ourselves: Are the nevuos of Yeshayahu and Zechariah, the haftaros of Sheva D’Nechemta, the promises to our Avos and Imahos theoretical, or do I really believe them to be addressed to me, now?

2. Dibbur / Speech

The Maharal declared the key to redemption to be a shifting of language,

Continued on p. 44

Reaching Across the Gap

By Toby Klein Greenwald

Michal Ohana, originally from Jerusalem and Mevaseret Tzion, attended the Nova Festival on October 7. Unlike her friends who were murdered and taken hostage, Michal is lucky. She survived hiding under an IDF tank for seven hours while bleeding from a bullet wound in her leg.

Michal was one of 110 survivors of the Nova massacre who attended a Shabbaton this past August in Jerusalem that aimed to bring healing to survivors and to help bridge the gap between religious and secular Israelis. Held at the Ramada hotel in Jerusalem, the Shabbaton, which featured iconic figures in Israeli society including Rabbanit Yemima Mizrachi, journalist Sivan Rahav-Meir and singer Yonatan Razel, was sponsored by the Kesher Yehudi organization that has hosted a number of such Shabbatonim since October 7.

“Kesher Yehudi is bridging a huge gap in Eretz Yisrael,” says Ralph Rieder of New York, one of the organization’s supporters. “It is facilitating friendships between different segments of the Israeli population, resulting in achdus [unity].”

Founded in 2012 by Tzili Schneider, a teacher in Bais Yaakov, Kesher Yehudi is “a social movement bridging the gaps in Israeli society between religious and secular Jews by building friendships—two people at a time.” The organization seeks to build unity at the grassroots level across Israel by matching secular and Chareidi Jews as chavrutot (study partners). Its peer-to-peer model encourages participants to have meaningful conversations leading to lifelong friendships.

When Schneider first conceived of the idea, she approached Rabbi Yosef Shalom Elyashiv, zt”l, who encouraged her and said that Am Yisrael has to be unified and that this is the way to save Am Yisrael. “Within a year of our founding, there were more than 1,000 chavruta couples,” says Schneider.

To date, Kesher Yehudi, a recipient of the prestigious Jerusalem Unity Prize, has created more than 17,000 chavrutot That is 34,000 Jews who are learning together and talking to each other even though they come from opposite ends of the spectrum.

Kesher Yehudi also works with more than thirty of the yearlong secular pre-army preparation programs, called “mechinot.”

Kesher Yehudi, an organization that builds friendships between Chareidi and secular Jews around Israel, hosted a Simchat Torah event for Nova survivors and hostage families. Photos courtesy of Kesher Yehudi

(Officially defined as “general,” they also include some Orthodox students. The original mechinot were Torani [religious] and began ten years before the general ones.)

Avishag Betser, head of the general mechinah in S’de Nechemia, in the upper Galil, says, “We’ve been working with Kesher Yehudi for about five–six years … most [chavrutot] maintain very beautiful connections afterwards.”

Michal, who was not raised Orthodox, had attended a previous Shabbaton where she met Yedida Menat, a Chareidi woman who is twenty-seven-years-old, like her. “We had an immediate connection,” says Michal. Currently, the two meet about once a week and study Torah together. At the August Shabbaton, they got up and spoke about their strong connection and how much they had learned from each other.

“When I met Michal, I saw the strength of someone who knows how to appreciate truth and who chose to take her survival to a place of kiddush Hashem, of keeping Torah and mitzvot, of loving life and a strong desire to act for the fullest of life and fill it with eternity!” says Yedida.

Michal feels it’s her mission to be the voice of the murdered and the hostages. Since recovering from the wound in her leg, Michal has been invited to speak at many events abroad and has appeared in films that have been shown in Israel and around the world. “I try to do everything to bring back the hostages,” says Michal. Hostages Eliya Cohen and Elkana Bohbot are among her friends who, as of this writing, are still in Gaza.

“As I travel abroad to tell my story,” says Michal, “Yedida gives me kochot [from afar]. I sometimes speak at Torah classes in synagogues in Israel, and she comes with me, and she says that she got much stronger as well, seeing how I handle the difficulties with which I am dealing. We give strength to each other.”

Toby Klein Greenwald is an award-winning journalist and theater director, and editor-in-chief of WholeFamily.com.

She is recipient of the ATARA Life Achievement Award. She was a guest at the Shabbaton of Kesher Yehudi.

REBBETZIN T. TUKACHINSKY

Giving strength, vitality, and connection to the women of Klal Yisroel.

Registration now open! Group discounts

of how we speak; our words create our reality. Let’s steer the conversations in our homes, shuls, mosdos and communities toward ge’on Yaakov and an expansive application of Jewish peoplehood and pride. These awesome days invite us to restore a basic, healthy, Jewish language that expresses our foundational beliefs. Here are some examples of how we could cultivate holy “straight talk” into our vocabulary:

a. Ahavah: We can express unconditional, real love for every Jew, whatever they may say or do, even if we disagree with them. We can focus on their good points and emphasize that which is good or inspirational about them.

b. Nekamah: We can normalize the healthy desire to avenge the pain and degradation our enemies have wrought. We can draw strength from Moshe Rabbeinu facing the Egyptian oppressors and battling Amalek and Midian. We can draw from King David’s yearnings in Sefer Tehillim to witness Divine justice.

c. Nitzachon: We can envision a decisive victory and acknowledge that it is within reach of our allpowerful G-d and our army, which is blessed with Divine assistance.

d. Kavod: We can praise the Ribbono Shel Olam for the miracles and for the courageous self-sacrifice of our soldiers. We can speak with unabashed pride in the IDF, in their gevurah and efforts, as well as pride in the successes of Am Yisrael and the ever-growing numbers of Yidden living lives respectful of tradition and tethered to Torah and mitzvos.

3. Ma’aseh /Action

Every Jew has a latent yearning to return home to Eretz Yisrael. To consecrate and concretize this yearning, let’s consider where we spend our resources and invest our passion: do our choices (vacations, hobbies, investments of time and kochos, et cetera) reflect our deepest values and yearnings?

May we encourage one another (and our children!) to strategize for our future—including planning a future in Israel, developing an exit strategy and aliyah plan, or starting on a Nefesh B’Nefesh application.

May we, our families, and our communities live with an awareness of our vast inner resources and the power of our spiritual identity, and join together to continue to build a bright future in our Land, Eretz Yisrael!

Responding to the Call

By Rabbi Efraim Mintz

With the rise of the Haskalah movement in the late 1700s, Orthodox Jewry largely responded by “cutting its losses,” distancing itself from those who rejected traditional Yiddishkeit and severing ties with many. While this approach may have seemed effective in earlier generations (a matter still open to debate), by the twentieth century it became increasingly clear that a different strategy was necessary. Thus the kiruv movement was born. Gradually, this movement gained traction across the diverse spectrum of frum communities—Chassidish, Litvish, Sephardic and Modern Orthodox—each developing its own outreach initiatives. This shift in approach within the frum community bore tremendous fruit, bringing tens of thousands of our brothers and sisters back to our Father in Heaven.

Yet now is the time for another shift, one perhaps equally as significant as the first.

While outreach is widely admired and the organizations involved in it are rightly applauded, it is still often viewed as a communal responsibility, rather than a personal obligation. The prevailing mindset is that the frum community must mobilize resources and create outreach organizations, while

the average individual may not see this work as personally relevant, except in terms of financial contribution or moral support.

But now, we must take the next crucial step: it is time for our community to understand that this holy work is the personal responsibility of every individual. Ahavas Yisrael, a mitzvah incumbent upon every Jewish man and woman individually, calls upon each and every one of us to express the ultimate love by sharing the treasures of Torah and mitzvos with our fellow Jews—those who may not yet be aware of the richness of their heritage.

The twentieth-century kiruv movement was spearheaded by the previous Lubavitcher Rebbe, Rabbi Yosef Yitzchak Schneersohn (and after his passing in 1950, exponentially expanded by his successor, the Rebbe). At a farbrengen on Purim of 1931, Rabbi Yosef Yitzchak delivered an impassioned message to his Chassidim, a message that continues to resonate today:

It says, “When you see a naked person, cover him, and do not ignore your own flesh” (Yeshayahu 58:7). When you see a Jew “naked” without tzitzis or tefillin, don’t dismiss the problem with a wave of your hand and give up in despair, saying, “What can be done?” Don’t sigh and think you’ve fulfilled your obligation through this expression of heartache.

No! Despair and sighing accomplish nothing, and this is

Rabbi Efraim Mintz is executive director of the Rohr Jewish Learning Institute, the educational arm of Chabad.

Now we must take the next crucial step: it is time for our community to understand that this holy work is the personal responsibility of every individual.

not the Divine intention. Rather, “cover him”—you must clothe him; you must help him don tzitzis and tefillin.

This rallying cry from nearly a century ago should still ignite within each of us the urgency to take action—today and always.

I hear from my colleagues, Chabad shluchim around the world, that this year, due to what has happened and is happening in Eretz Yisrael, there was a significant uptick in the number of people who have reached out to them to join their services for Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur. They tell me that the numbers are unprecedented, with many Jews “coming out of the woodwork,” including those who have never engaged Chabad before.

Our fellow Jews are looking for the truth of Torah and Yiddishkeit like never before. Let’s be there for them.

Symposium continues on p. 52

NCSY’s Diaspora Israeli division has been helping Israeli teenagers in America strengthen their Jewish identity; seen here, American Israeli students connecting over pizza in Boston, Massachusetts.

The American Israeli Post-October 7

Close to one million Israelis call America home, what are we doing for them?

By Sandy Eller

It is no exaggeration to say that if you are reading these words, your existence can be defined in two very separate parts—life before October 7 and life after October 7. But as much as you and I have had to acclimate to a new reality after last year’s unfathomable terror attacks, that process has been significantly more challenging for one particular demographic—the close to one million Israelis who call the United States home.

American Israelis constitute more than 10 percent of the United States’ Jewish population, yet they are an entity unto themselves and in some public schools, such as those in Silicon Valley, an estimated 90 percent of the Jewish students are Israelis. And while Jews in the United States typically build connections and support systems through their local schools, community centers and shuls, American Israelis typically don’t because the concept of paying for services and institutions that were available to them for free in Israel just doesn’t resonate with them.

All those factors added up to a single reality when October 7 hit: American Israelis felt utterly alone, with few support systems to fall back on as traumatic events unfolded in their homeland. Devastated and depressed, America’s Israeli population stayed glued to their screens as they watched the latest developments at home. Even the relatively small percentage who normally went to shul were unable to summon the will to gather with others.

But as the weeks went by, a dramatic change evolved. American Israelis, many of whom have little or no family nearby, began turning out to shul in droves, inspired by an innate need for connection. Surrounded as they had been for weeks by fear, sorrow and the seemingly endless waves of antisemitism that were sweeping the world, they reveled in the opportunity to be with others who understood them.

“Some people said this was the first time they went to shul,” observed Rabbi Yehuda Kornfeld, co-founder of Mekusharim, an outreach organization serving North America’s Israeli population since 2021. “Families who were never connected to shuls suddenly found shul to be part of their home.”

That shift extended far beyond davening. Enthralled by Torah classes, an unprecedented number of American Israelis decided to pack their children off to Jewish camps last summer.

“Sleepaway camps started filling up with Israelis who had never sent their kids before, since it wasn’t part of the Israeli mentality,” explained Rabbi Kornfeld. “We saw people really starting to connect after October 7.”

But perhaps the biggest surprise was the number of American Israelis who switched their children to Jewish day schools, as parents were disturbed to see their children targeted by classmates and subjected to vicious antisemitism.

“Parents call me and say, ‘We don’t want our kids in public school,’” said Rabbi Kornfeld. “I hear it every day.”

Another organization devoting significant effort to helping Israelis in America strengthen their Jewish identity is NCSY, which created a Diaspora Israeli division two years ago when it became apparent that there were few outreach programs serving American Israeli teenagers. Having that supportive infrastructure in place when October 7 happened "was a godsend," said Rabbi Moshe Freilich, director of NCSY's Diaspora Israelis, with American Israeli kids flocking to NCSY’s public school clubs for Jewish kids known as Jewish Student Union (JSU). With the world in turmoil, JSU clubs were a safe haven, where students could feel secure and discuss their concerns with peers who understood not just their language, but also their culture.

“It’s like Hashem was planting the seeds . . . the refuah lifnei hamakkah—the cure is prepared before the punishment,” said Rabbi Freilich.

When October 7 happened, “we already had programs in place,” he said.

“In a way, JSU clubs became a therapy session for them and they started bringing more kids, talking about what needs to be done, how to deal with things and whether they need to care more about antisemitism,” said Rabbi Freilich.

An American Israeli himself, Rabbi Freilich formerly served as a city director for Southern NCSY, which includes Florida. Florida has the third largest Israeli population in the States (New York has the first, California, the second). He noticed that American Israelis were being overlooked by Jewish outreach organizations. One reason was the culture gap. “Most Israelis,” he said, “do not send their kids to American Jewish youth groups—it’s not just that the language is different, the culture is different.” Once NCSY launched its Diaspora Israeli division, it took off. Currently, the division has a presence in ten locations including South Florida, Los Angeles, Toronto, Las Vegas, Houston, New York, New Jersey, Boston, Rockville and Silicon Valley.

Joining forces with different organizations has given NCSY the ability to reach a larger number of American Israeli communities. In addition to partnering with Mekusharim in the wake of the terror attacks, NCSY has also collaborated with other groups, including those that they had had differences with in the past. “Our goal is to keep Jews Jewish—even secular Israeli organizations share that goal. Before October 7 these organizations saw us as religious and they didn’t want to work with us, but this was the time to take the barriers down and figure things out together,” explained Rabbi Freilich. “There wasn’t one place where it didn’t work.”

"One of the challenges for American Israelis is that in the Diaspora one can grow up totally ignorant of all of the Jewish holidays," said Rabbi Freilich. "Probably one of the most meaningful experiences is inviting NCSYers to partake in our family Seder, something that these kids never experienced. Often even their parents may join. Or inviting them to our Sukkah barbecue. In Israel, these holidays are an obvious part of Israeli culture," said Rabbi Freilich.

Chesed projects have proven to be a powerful vehicle at NCSY since October 7, with teens feeling empowered by helping others. Whether they were visiting old age homes or going on relief missions, giving from the heart was a healing balm that soothed NCSYers’ frazzled nerves.

“The younger generation needed to be inspired, to be able to do something good, even if they couldn’t be on the front lines fighting,” noted Rabbi Freilich.

But as much as NCSY has been doing to help America’s Israeli communities since October 7, Rabbi Freilich continues to look for new ways to keep this demographic connected to each other and to their roots.

“We always feel that we need to do more and that what we’re doing isn’t enough,” noted Rabbi Freilich.

Sandy Eller is a freelance writer who writes for numerous websites, newspapers, magazines and private clients.

NCSY hosting a painting event for American Israeli teens.

How a Gap Year in Israel Can Change a Life

By Kylie Ora Lobell

For many young, secular American Jews, there is only one option after high school: to go to a good college.

“When it comes to non-frum Jews, almost all of them will end up on secular college campuses, where their chances of Jewish survival are slim,” says Rabbi Menachem Deutsch. “But if they go to yeshivah or seminary during a gap year, their chances of assimilation are close to zero.”

Rabbi Deutsch talks from experience; he is the CEO of Olami Launch, an initiative founded in 2021 that helps bring public high school graduates to Israel for their gap year, where they can learn about Judaism and continue their Jewish journey.

“Every passing year, young people are less and less connected to anyone who was traditionally Jewish,” he says. “Many Jewish kids today don’t have grandparents who made a Passover seder. But on the other hand, they are less grounded in life, so Yiddishkeit has more to offer.”

Partnering with NCSY, Olami Launch recruits eleventh and twelfth graders from hundreds of public schools across the United States and Canada who are interested in becoming more connected to their Judaism.

Through its Fellowship Program, Olami Launch offers highlevel leadership training, a weekend Destination Retreat and a trip to Israel for exceptional high school seniors where they visit gap-year programs while fostering a deeper connection to the Jewish homeland. “They will walk out of the program trained to be a Jewish leader,” says Rabbi Yehoshua Marchuck,

executive director of NCSY Alumni.

Olami Launch also provides informational assistance, guidance and significant financial aid towards select gap year experiences in Israel.

Some of those selected for the Fellowship spend their gap year in Israel, and some choose to stay on for longer. Currently, there are close to 200 Olami Launch fellows in Israel.

“We lost about 25 percent when the war started because they went home,” Rabbi Deutsch says. “But this year, the number of students interested in our program didn’t go down, which is really gratifying and surprising to us. We would have had more kids than last year, if not for October 7.”

Right now, getting students to Israel can prove to be a challenge because of the situation on the ground. According to Rabbi Micah Greenland, international director of NCSY, the group’s leaders are having conversations with worried parents and showing them how life is still going on in Israel.

“I’ve been to Israel multiple times since October 7, and we ran summer programs for over one thousand participants in the country,” said Rabbi Greenland. “It’s a very powerful time to be in Israel. Once we’ve had a conversation with the parents, they’re already giving it meaningful consideration. That’s a really positive thing.”

With the rising antisemitism in public and private schools around North America, more and more Jewish students are participating in JSU clubs overseen by NCSY, and some eventually join Olami Launch.

“They are looking for that sense of solidarity,” Rabbi Greenland says. “We are thrilled to be on the receiving end of that demand to provide a program and a sense of belonging.” Although getting selected to be a Fellow is not easy. “These

Kylie Ora Lobell is an award-winning writer and president of KOL Digital Marketing, where she does publicity and marketing for Jewish businesses, non-profits, authors and influencers.

High school graduates spending their gap year in Israel. Photos courtesy of Olami Launch

are the crème de la crème of the public school students,” says Rabbi Marchuck.

Working with Olami Launch, says Rabbi Jonah Lerner, NCSY regional director, Atlantic Seaboard, has been a “game changer.” In years past, NCSY would have one-on-one conversations with teens about going to Israel. Olami Launch, however, creates a social atmosphere where teens go to Israel together as part of a social group or a fellowship. “The ability to talk with a group of teens about spending a gap year in Israel is groundbreaking,” he says. “Teens are social, they crave social interactions.”

The students who end up being interested in Olami Launch are self-selecting—they are already curious about their Judaism and want to learn more.

“They love meeting like-minded teens and deepening their relationship with Jewish life,” Rabbi Greenland says. “The

students have been, by and large, happy and gratified with their experience.”

That is certainly true for Malka Michelle Simkin, who joined Olami Launch the first year it started. She had a rough childhood; she was in the foster care system and didn’t have much stability at home.

Once she joined the Fellowship, where she met with other students and leaders, went to fun activities like zip-lining and axe throwing, and learned about her Jewish roots, she found it to be “such a warm environment,” she said. “[When I got to] my first class [in Israel], I loved it. I’m growing so much on the inside and working on my values and goals in life, and my strengths and weaknesses.”

Simkin, who took on the Hebrew name Malka, said she now wants to live a frum life.

“I want to give my children the education I didn’t have. I want to put them in a religious school, be a teacher and inspire the future of Klal Yisrael.”

Teens who spend their gap year in a program in Israel are materially different than teens who don’t.

For Simkin and other Olami Launch participants, the program is lifechanging. It provides them with a deep and fulfilling connection to their Judaism, as well as a clear path— which means everything to these young adults. “Teens who spend their gap year in a program in Israel are materially different than teens who don’t,” says Rabbi Lerner.

“They don’t have a coherent world to live in, and Judaism gives them it,” says Rabbi Deutsch. “Family structure is crumbling, basic optimism about life is down, happiness is down. Yiddishkeit gives them a stable and meaningful world to live in.”

Getting More Jewish Kids into Jewish Schools

By Rachel Schwartzberg

Roughly 12,000 Jews live in Indianapolis, says Rabbi Aryeh Birnhack, Judaic studies principal of Hasten Hebrew Academy in Indianapolis, Indiana. “Many of them have simply never heard of our school.”

Thanks to a new initiative, Rabbi Birnhack is hoping that will change. Launched this fall by the Consortium of Jewish Day Schools (CoJDS), the initiative is an integrated marketing campaign encouraging Jews to send their children to Jewish schools. The campaign is dubbed “Coming Home” because, as Rabbi Heshy Glass, founding national chairman of CoJDS, explains, “This is about Jewish schools for Jewish students.”

An ad currently being run by the Consortium of Jewish Day Schools (CoJDS) as part of its “Coming Home” initiative, an integrated marketing campaign encouraging Jews to send their kids to Jewish schools. Courtesy of CoJDS

If we get just one more student in our school as a result of this campaign, that’s success. We will be saving one Jewish neshamah.

“As unaffiliated Jews move farther away from any Jewish connection, it’s even more important to get in front of them now,” says Rabbi Birnhack. “If we get just one more student in our school as a result of this campaign, that’s success. We will be saving one Jewish neshamah.”

Every conversation in the broader Jewish world has changed in the aftermath of October 7, says Rabbi Glass. “For the past few years, we’ve been hearing stories of Jewish families feeling less comfortable in public schools, as alternative identities are celebrated and woke culture seeps in,” he explains. “Now, after October 7, there’s also antisemitism added to the mix. It can become very difficult for a child to navigate.”

“With growing feelings of discomfort post-October 7, we saw the opportunity to actively promote Jewish schools,” says Rabbi Glass. “Our goal is to help schools be successful, across the board,” explains Rabbi Glass. “Yes, they need training. Yes, they need staff. But they also need students.”

The New York–based CoJDS is dedicated to the development and improvement of Jewish day schools, working with about 250 schools across North America and throughout the world.

CoJDS engaged ColdSpark, an agency that has run high-profile political campaigns, to create the campaign, which is leveraging social media, earned media and direct mail to reach Jewish families. This marketing campaign is building on previous efforts to grow enrollment including providing workshops to parents and scholarships for families “on the fence.”

For starters, the project is focused around five day schools in smaller communities across the country: Plainview, Long Island; Indianapolis, Indiana; Huntington Beach, California; Portland, Oregon; and Richmond, Virginia.

The choice of schools was strategic, Rabbi Glass explains. “We picked communities where the school has capacity to absorb more children and is sophisticated enough to accept families with limited Jewish backgrounds,” he says. The schools in these communities are what CoJDS refers to as “anchor schools.” The continued health of Jewish life in these communities hinges on the strength of the local day school.

Each school is contributing a small amount toward the campaign, but the majority of the funding is being raised by CoJDS. “Philanthropy is truly fueling this effort,” adds Rabbi Glass.

While the current climate of growing antisemitism will hopefully open people’s minds to consider Jewish schools for their children, Rabbi Glass says, securing funding for efforts like this to foster Jewish education in the US has become a much bigger challenge in the post–October 7 world.

“Since October 7, federations have been sending money to Israel,” he says. “It’s important, and Israel needs the funds. But

most donors aren’t focused on Jewish education right now.”

The same challenge has faced Hadassa Halpern, executive director of the Ronald S. Lauder Impact Initiative in North America. She is overseeing a similar campaign that is promoting enrollment of Jewish children in Jewish day schools in cities with large Jewish populations.

Though the Lauder campaign was conceived prior to October 7, it launched its pilot effort this year. It is focused on five pluralistic Jewish schools across four cities: Boca Raton, Florida; Detroit, Michigan; Boston, Massachusetts; and the Washington, DC area—with hopes to expand to more schools across North America each year.

“The funding landscape is completely different” since October 7, says Halpern. “Funders are giving money to causes in Israel and toward fighting antisemitism. It is not necessarily strategic to divert support from strengthening Jewish identity and knowledge in the Diaspora, but that’s the reality. There are still 7 million Jews in the US who are looking for opportunities to engage—now more the ever.”

Halpern notes that although the two campaigns focus on different types of schools in different locations, the fundamental goal of both efforts are aligned: “It’s about how to get more Jewish kids into Jewish schools,” she says.

Thus far, neither campaign can measure its success, as both got into full swing after the current school year had begun. Both Rabbi Glass and Halpern are hoping to plant seeds that will germinate as parents think about the future.

In the months following October 7, there was a reported uptick in interest in Jewish day schools from families that suddenly felt uncomfortable sending to public or non-Jewish private schools, but the interest hasn’t yet translated into enrollment, says Halpern.

“I think it’s because people in the US believe things will blow over,” notes Halpern, who is originally British. “In Europe, we know that’s false. We’ve seen that once there’s antisemitism, it doesn’t simply go away. Americans believe it will pass—though that might change this year. One thing is clear: Everyone is more open to having these conversations now.”

Although people may be feeling more uncomfortable as Jews since the events of October 7, Rabbi Birnhack stresses that the campaign isn’t about capitalizing on fear. “We want to give over the message, in a positive way, that people should consider our school,” he says. “We’re not pushing urgency. We want to cultivate the idea in people’s minds, so when they’re thinking about enrolling their kids in school for the coming year, they’ll have us in mind.”

For his part, Rabbi Glass hopes that the Coming Home campaign will be a success, and the data will encourage major funders and philanthropic foundations to invest in the cause.

“The kiruv organizations are worried about Jews living in Florida and Las Vegas,” he says. “But who is worried about those living in Indianapolis or Richmond? We need to lead the charge.”

Rachel Schwartzberg is a writer and editor who lives with her family

in Memphis, Tennessee.

Although it may be too optimistic to believe that a significant percentage of these newly interested Jews will start keeping Shabbat, perhaps we need to rethink our definition of success with regard to outreach. If a Jew, formerly uncomfortable with being Jewish, develops a strong sense of Jewish identity and pride, can that be considered a success?

Meira Spivak

As told to Steve Lipman

Ultimately, the goal is for as many Jews as possible to lead committed Jewish lives. But although that is the ultimate goal, it is not realistic for every person.

Let’s take a look at ourselves, for example, and think about how we make changes in our lives. It’s not easy. Change takes time. It’s a process. We need to afford unaffiliated Jews the same grace we afford ourselves. Everyone is on a journey; every person taking a step that brings him or her closer to Torah should be applauded. It might not be the success with a capital S that we ultimately hope for, but anyone who grows in his Judaism is a success and we need to recognize it. Yes, they may have driven to shul, but they could have gone to the mall or somewhere else. Instead, they made a choice to spend their time in shul.

Since October 7, I’ve gotten an increasing number of calls from parents asking for advice on how to get their kids more connected to and engaged with Judaism. More and more Jewish teens attending public high schools are requesting that we start JSU clubs in their schools. All of these are indications that Jews are more interested now in connecting.

Rabbi Efraim Mintz

The question seems to imply that the ultimate measure of success in Jewish outreach has always been making Jews frum or shomer Shabbos. The concern, then, is whether that expectation is too high for many people (a point I’m not entirely convinced of). Should we, therefore, “downgrade” our definition of success and consider fostering Jewish identity and pride in a Jew who may be distant from Yiddishkeit as sufficient?

I cannot agree that fostering Jewish pride and identity constitutes success on its own. These are abstract concepts, and neither is counted among the 613 mitzvos d’Oraisa or the seven mitzvos d’Rabbanan. They are certainly valuable, but in isolation, they don’t fulfill the ultimate objective.

However, I also disagree with the notion that success in outreach is solely defined by making someone frum. Allow me to clarify.

For those of us in a position to help others connect, it’s important to meet people where they are. If they want to come to a Shabbos meal, invite them. We do invite people to stay for the full Shabbos and sleep over. Many of them come but prefer not to stay overnight. A lot of families we have over for Shabbos meals end up sending their children to our NCSY overnight camp. It’s a journey. Children—second grade and up—hands down, are easier to influence. Until twelfth grade, kids are easier to work with. Once they are in college, it’s hard to get them to come for a Shabbos meal or programs. But success is when a teen starts to attend year-round NCSY programs in her city and has a positive outlook about being Jewish.

Meira Spivak is the director of Oregon NCSY.

Steve Lipman is a frequent contributor to Jewish Action

What gives a mitzvah its value? There is a common misconception that mitzvos are valuable because, when performed regularly and in great number, they constitute a lifestyle—what we call “being frum.” In this view, mitzvos matter because they collectively form a holy lifestyle, and so it seems logical that success would be measured by leading someone into that lifestyle.

But that’s not what a mitzvah is about. Hashem doesn’t want you to daven, study Torah, put on tefillin, light Shabbos candles or give tzedakah simply because these actions build a religious identity. Rather, He quite literally and quite simply wants you to put on tefillin, study Torah, light Shabbos candles or give tzedakah. Every mitzvah, in and of itself, gives Hashem immense pleasure. When a Jew fulfills His will, Hashem says, “What nachas I have! For I have commanded, and My will was done” (see Rashi, Shemos 29:18).

The Shelah HaKadosh writes that the word mitzvah is related to the Aramaic word tzavsa, which means connection

or bond. Chassidus explains (Tanya, Likutei Amarim, chap. 25) that every time a Jew performs a mitzvah, he creates an eternal connection with Hashem. Aveiros can be rectified, but a mitzvah is eternal. It forges a bond that lasts forever. Moreover, Rambam famously writes (Hilchos Teshuvah 3:4) that each person should view himself and the world as being evenly balanced between merit and sin. One mitzvah can tip the scales, bringing deliverance and salvation not only to the person performing it but to the entire world.

So what is the unchanging definition of success in Jewish outreach? Success is getting another Jew to do a single mitzvah. That mitzvah gives Hashem tremendous nachas, connects that Jew to Him in an eternal bond, and has the potential to tip the scales and bring Mashiach. Every

mitzvah matters—each one is a success.

As for making someone frum, don’t worry. Chazal teach us that one mitzvah leads to another, and that second mitzvah leads to a third, and so on. The frumkeit will come in time. But our focus should remain on the immediate opportunity: to inspire another Jew to do a mitzvah, right here and now. That is our true success.

Assuming unlimited financial resources were available, what could you envision American Orthodox Jews doing to strengthen Jewish identity at this time?

Rivkah Slonim

As told to Steve Lipman

This past year has been both heartbreaking and bolstering. From my perch on a college campus, I was privileged to watch as our students united and faced their/our new post–October 7 reality with resolve and largesse of spirit. I saw the breathtaking unfurling of the neshamah, the Jewish soul, as it awakened in students not previously Jewishly engaged.

At the same time, it was heartrending to notice just how many Jewish kids were still not “plugged in,” or worse, were manifestly hostile toward Israel and the organized Jewish community in the Diaspora.

Of course, what I see is one small part of a much larger picture. I went to Washington, DC, to stand with our community on November 14, 2023. The number of attendees was estimated at 290,000. That is a lot of people. But not nearly enough. On December 6, 1987, an estimated 250,000 people attended the “Freedom Sunday” March on behalf of Soviet Jewry. Over a span of thirty-six years, we should have been able to almost triple the number of attendees.

Numbers don’t lie. They tell a tale of wholesale assimilation. If resources were not an issue (and this holds true when it’s a struggle as well), I believe that the number one task for us all is reaching out to the far too many Jews who are on the sidelines, who are populating the fringes, perhaps unsure of how to find a way in. This takes thought and creativity, openness and, above all, belief in the pristine core, the neshamah that is searching for a way home. It takes

flexibility, but not the soft bias of lower expectations that is patronizing and off-putting.

On the contrary, we have to meet these Jews in various ways and in diverse venues; we have to meet them where they are. Without an agenda. With unfettered love and acceptance. With undiluted Toras Emes (Torah of truth) presented in bite-size, doable pieces. And we have to project the unvarnished truth: We are not whole without all of our sisters and brothers. This is not a project. This is not a numbers game. This is a family reunion. We miss you; viscerally so.

At Binghamton, for example, instead of four shluchim couples, this would take the form of us hiring many additional shluchim. For starters, we would hire one couple for each of the six residential communities on our campus, not unlike the faculty masters whose job it is to create a community within a community. This would go a long way toward fostering a greater number of deep relationships, curating specific programming for smaller cohorts, and ultimately exposing larger numbers of Jewish students to their rich heritage.

Parallel to the above, there is another cause that is close to my heart. I believe it is necessary to channel resources toward tweaking, if not overhauling, the Orthodox day school and camping system.

It’s time for more focus on the neshamah, on the shlichut (mission) of each soul on this earth; on understanding who we are, why we are and what we are doing in this world to begin with. Said simply, our chinuch must infuse more passion, more pride, ge’on Yaakov, more mesirus nefesh to fulfill our tafkid, more simchah shel mitzvah, more of a sense of privilege in being the Chosen People.

In plain English, can we see the same level of excitement that is generated by a meal in the Tabernacle Steakhouse in Manhattan, or a yeshivah-week vacation to Cancun, engendered by the opportunity to do a mitzvah?

October 7 has exposed the fallacy of our being k’chol ha’amim, just as the other nations. Am levadad yishkon—we

Rabbi Efraim Mintz

The question suggests a direct link between financial resources and our ability to strengthen Jewish identity. I have the zechus to serve as the executive director of the Rohr Jewish Learning Institute (JLI), Chabad’s adult education arm, an organization with this very mission—strengthening Jewish identity by inspiring limud haTorah in hundreds of thousands of people in communities worldwide. In my capacity, I’m well acquainted with the need to cover a substantial budget. That said, I am convinced that finances, while essential, are neither the master key nor the primary urgency of the moment.

What’s critically needed is a shift in focus—a grassroots reprioritization. We need to become active heritage sharers, internalizing the principle of kol Yisrael areivim zeh lazeh that all Jews are responsible for one another.

Consider this: Imagine your brother, rachmana litzlan, was seriously ill, whether emotionally or physically. The good news is that there’s an affordable, readily available medicine that could cure him. But the bad news is that he refuses to take the medication because he doesn’t understand how it works, and even worse, he doesn’t recognize his illness. What would you do in this situation? Would you shrug and say, “Well, I’m healthy, so this isn’t my problem. He hasn’t asked for my help, and he’s clearly not interested. I wish I could do something, but I’ve got to take care of myself—I need to go take my multivitamin. . .”?

Of course not! You’d lose sleep, your mind racing with strategies to convince him to take the lifesaving medicine.

This isn’t a hypothetical situation—it’s our reality. We have millions of brothers and sisters whose spiritual health is in dire straits, and we have the cure. The question is: are we losing sleep over it?

These are our neshamah siblings, and our Father in Heaven longs for us to take responsibility and bring His children back home. This must become our priority, because it is His.

are the nation who dwells alone and apart. Our efforts must go in the direction of fostering within all of our precious youth—those within the bubble of Orthodoxy and those not yet there—a feeling of pride and joy in being the subject of the iconic words: Atah bechartanu mi’kol ha’amim (You chose us from all the nations).

When we make this mental shift, we’ll start seeing opportunities everywhere—in our neighborhoods, workplaces and everyday interactions. Each encounter becomes a Divinely orchestrated chance to inspire. Did you meet another Jew? Help him put on tefillin. Invite her for a Shabbos meal. Give him a lulav and esrog before Sukkos, or blow shofar for her on Rosh Hashanah. Study Torah with her in person or over the phone. Send him a sefer. The possibilities are endless, but it starts with recognizing that the call of the hour is personal investment. As Jews, we are very creative; we have only to appreciate that the call of the hour is personal investment, and we will already figure out the ways and means for accomplishing this important goal. Imagine if the average frum Jew in America started using his everyday encounters to share and inspire. Would that not spark a global transformation in a short amount of time?

What’s lacking isn’t money—it’s will. (And when there’s a will, the money will follow.) The real game changers are perspective and commitment. When we shift our priorities, we’ll make an immeasurable impact.

We are not whole without all of our sisters and brothers. This is not a project. This is not a numbers game. This is a family reunion. We miss you; viscerally so.

Rivkah Slonim is associate director of the Rohr Chabad Center for Jewish Student Life at Binghamton University.

It All Starts with a Mom

By Ahuva Reich

Ever since October 8, 9 PM is sacred in the Marcus house. That’s when Aimee Marcus, from Westchester, New York, is sure to be on Zoom with a dozen or so other women, depending on the night, listening to a Torah class or chatting with other participants.

“We talk about real life. The real life of TJJ Moms,” says Nechama Kamelhar, director of family engagement for TriState NCSY as well as director of TJJ for Moms and Dads, who hosts the Zoom.

TJJ for Moms and Dads was founded by NCSY in response to requests from parents of teens who had attended TJJ (The Anne Samson Jerusalem Journey). Run by NCSY’s Jewish Student Union (JSU), TJJ takes Jewish public high school students on an annual three-week trip to Israel. Before TJJ for Moms and Dads was created, teens would return home from the Israel trips with a newly awakened sense of Jewish identity to parents who could not relate.

“What better way to show the moms what their teens experienced than by taking them on a similar trip?” asks Kamelhar, who took more than eighty moms to Israel this past year. Since TJJ for Moms and Dads was launched in 2017, the program, which runs separate trips for moms and dads, has brought hundreds of participants to Israel.

Marcus had never been to Israel before she participated in TJJ for Moms in 2022 with fifty other women. “I loved every minute of being there and have really gotten involved in the organization since I came back,” she says. “I feel like it’s really changed me. It has made me appreciate my Judaism so much more.”

Kamelhar looks for applicants who have, among other qualities, “a desire for the trip to have some sort of Jewish impact on their families.”

“It’s not all or nothing. Some people are going to light Shabbos candles, some people are going to buy flowers for Shabbos, some people are going to put up a mezuzah. It’ll be different things for different people.”

Kamelhar feels that getting moms involved is essential. She’s seen, for example, how some moms come back from a trip and help start a JSU chapter in their child’s public school. “It starts with the moms,” she says.

At one point trip participants expressed a desire for ongoing programming. In response, Kamelhar began arranging challah bakes, lectures and holiday-themed events, such as a Rosh Hashanah Apple Crisp Bake Tour, throughout the New York area. Dozens of Jewish adults have participated in these events, some discovering their Judaism in their fifties and sixties, others reconnecting for the first time since childhood. Some of those who attend are not even TJJ participants; they just hear about the programming and want to join. “It’s become a local phenomenon,” says Kamelhar.

Kamelhar and the other madrichot, or volunteer leaders, on the trip also invite participants to their homes for Shabbat and yamim tovim, giving them a real taste of observant Jewish life. “Nechama’s home has an open door,” says one participant. “I can call her any time and say I’m coming. Her Shabbat table extends like Basya’s arm.”

To alleviate the boredom and loneliness the TJJ community was experiencing during Covid, Kamelhar turned to Zoom and began hosting morning davening sessions. “That’s how some members of our group learned how to daven,” says Kamelhar. “We started with Modeh Ani and Shema and we ended up with the entire davening.”

Then October 7 happened. “All of us were devastated,” recalls Marcus. “Because I had recently visited Israel and seen the people for myself, the tragedy felt like a death in the family,” she says.

Alan Levine, who joined the first TJJ trip for fathers in the summer of 2022, describes his reaction similarly. “It was ‘Oh my gosh, I was with those people.’”

Ahuva Reich is a writer living in New York.

Since it was launched in 2017, TJJ for Moms has brought hundreds of women to Israel.

Photo: Risa Goldberg

“No one knew what to do with themselves,” says Marcus. “We were feeling so alone and almost desperate. We couldn’t make sense of anything.”

Kamelhar had an idea: she hosted a Tehillim Zoom for TJJ Moms. After that first Zoom, which attracted close to 100 women, Kamelhar said, “We’re doing this every night at 9 PM.”

“The Zoom sessions helped us get through those first difficult weeks,” says Shari Glassman, an active TJJ Mom. “Knowing we have a community— the TJJ Moms community—that is bigger than ourselves has helped us get through this feeling of horror that we’re all feeling." On the Zoom, each woman adopted a soldier to pray for.

Now, at Glassman’s Long Island home, “everyone knows that when it’s 9 PM, Mom’s on her Zoom,” she says. “One of my friends asked me: ‘What did we used to do at 9 PM?’”

In the beginning, Zoom sessions featured inspirational Jewish music and Tehillim recitation for the hostages and for Israel. After a while, the sessions, which are still ongoing, came to include lectures on Torah topics, often followed by impromptu Q&A sessions and even entertainment by big-name singers like Simcha Leiner. One session featured Sapir Cohen, a former hostage held by Hamas for fifty-five days.

“The Zoom sessions, which include learning about the weekly Torah portion, opened my eyes,” says Marcus, who belongs to a Reform temple. “They give me an understanding of what religion is about.”

Missing a Connection to Judaism

By JA Staff

In 2018, Shari Glassman from Long Island, New York, went on her first Israel trip with TJJ for Moms. Since then, her life hasn’t been the same. “Little by little by little, I started doing more and more [Jewish things], bringing Judaism into my home. Not pushing it on anybody, just doing it,” says Glassman, who has gone on a total of four TJJ trips to Israel. “Before I went on the first trip, I didn’t feel like I was missing anything. I felt that we had a Jewish home—we celebrated the holidays, my kids attended Hebrew school, my son was bar mitzvahed. But I was missing something. I was missing a connection to Judaism.”

Glassman now regularly bakes challahs and lights candles on Friday nights. “Who doesn’t love homemade challah?” she asks. When she returned from her first Israel trip and introduced the idea of making challah, her eleven-year-old and fifteen-year-old were eager to help. “They embraced everything.”

As time went on, it became clear that Judaism was becoming increasingly important in their lives. “A few years ago, my daughter, who is seventeen now, and I were cooking for Passover. She suddenly said to me, ‘We should become kosher.’ I said, ‘What?’ She repeated herself. And I said, ‘Let’s talk about this after Passover.’ After Passover she brought it up again—and again. I said to myself, ‘Okay, we have to do this because I’m not going to tell my kids, try to be more Jewish, but wait, that’s too Jewish.’”

“Neither my husband nor I grew up in a kosher home,” continues Glassman, “so I called Nechama Kamelhar, director of TJJ Moms and Dads. I said, ‘We’re not gutting the whole kitchen. We’re not.’ Nechama had only the nicest words of encouragement. Instead of saying, ‘if you’re going to be kosher you have to make sure you buy all new utensils, et cetera,’ she said, ‘take one step at a time.’ She gave me permission to go slow. It’s not all or nothing. Whatever we can do is what we do. It’s been three or four years since we decided to go kosher and it’s so much easier; it’s become second nature.”

The Tefillin Challenge

By JA Staff

How do you get guys excited about something? Put them up to a challenge. Which is what Rabbi Gideon Black, who led a TJJ for Dads trip, did, explains Alan Levine, who participated in the 2023 trip. “He presented the twenty-five men on the trip with a thirty-day challenge. ‘Put on tefillin each morning, take a picture and post it on the WhatsApp group. That’s it. Do it for thirty days and NCSY will purchase a pair of tefillin for you.’”

During the eight-day trip, co-led by Rabbi Yossi Schwartz, putting on tefillin was easy for Levine. Even after he returned home, he felt energized, and completed his thirty days. After thirty days, he said to himself, You know what? I’m going for sixty. Soon it was: I’m doing ninety. “I told this to all the guys,” says Levine. “There were a few guys who were still doing it. NCSY had purchased tefillin for all of them. Most of the guys kind of fizzled out after thirty or sixty days. I kept going. I continued on to 120 days. I told myself, This is a piece of cake. I just completed a full year and I’m still going strong.”

Just Ahavas Yisrael

By JA Staff

No judgment, just ahavas Yisrael. That’s the motto of Project Inspire, a national organization that aims to provide positive Jewish experiences for Jews of all backgrounds. While typical kiruv models depend on paid professionals, Project Inspire is one of the few that rely on volunteers to organize events, such as challah bakes, Friday night dinners and even a pre-Pesach trip to the Metropolitan Museum of Art to learn about Jewish life in ancient Egypt.

“We try to keep the events joyful and experiential,” says Julie Joseph, Ed.D., who volunteers as the educational director for the Long Island branch of Project Inspire. “We don’t expect change. We expect positive experiences.”

The program’s focus on Jewish moms is intentional, says Joseph who got involved with Long Island Project Inspire because one of her friends was among the founding leaders of the branch. “We know that these experiences will affect the entire home spiritually.” She tells of a Conservative Jewish woman who over time became increasingly Jewishly connected due to her involvement in the program. Her daughter recently got engaged to a young man with a strong Jewish identity. “There’s no question the daughter was impacted by her mother’s growing commitment to Judaism.”

Since October 7, the program has seen even greater engagement among the women. Consider the Long Island branch’s recent Friday night meal, which in the past had been attended by a few dozen people at most. “We had a hundred couples come,” says Joseph.

Some of the passion is no doubt rooted in solidarity with Orna Neutra, a member of the Long Island branch whose twenty-two-year-old son Omer is still being held hostage in Gaza. “Many of us have been showing up in Plainview every

Two Conservative couples who had been married for many years had a marriage ceremony in accordance with Orthodox Jewish law on the rooftop of Aish HaTorah in the Old City of Jerusalem, thanks to Project Inspire.

Sunday for a weekly walk for Omer and the other hostages,” says Joseph.

And changes do happen. Just this past summer, two Conservative couples who had been married for many years had a marriage ceremony according to Orthodox Jewish law. Their beautiful chuppahs were held on the roof of Aish HaTorah Yeshiva in the Jewish Quarter of Jerusalem’s Old City. Joseph feels the program has dramatically impacted her. She first got involved at a low point in her life. A former Jewish educator, she had left the classroom as she was recovering from cancer. She had not been teaching for years and felt adrift, when Project Inspire asked her to learn b’chavruta with a secular Jewish woman. “Are you a teacher?” her chavruta, impressed, asked after their first session. Getting such positive feedback from her chavruta gave Joseph the confidence to return to the classroom. Today she delivers weekly classes at a local synagogue.

A lot of women, religious and secular, genuinely enjoy the camaraderie and sense of belonging.

“We just love each other,” says Joseph. “You get hooked. Who would think that in our forties and fifties we would be making so many new friends . . . it has totally changed my life.”

Photo: Daniel Rose

A series of conversations on the Orthodox community’s role and responsibility at this historic moment.

A Time of REPENTANCE

In the aftermath of the obvious miracles of the Six-Day War, Rabbi Shlomo Wolbe, a leading rabbi in the post-Holocaust era in Israel, felt there was an unprecedented opportunity to bring secular Israelis to Torah observance.

Inspired by the religious revival he witnessed, he personally traveled from kibbutz to kibbutz trying to bring multitudes back to Torah. Additionally, he traveled across the Suez Canal to encourage the IDF soldiers stationed there. The lectures he delivered to secular Jews were published years later as Bein Sheishes Le’Asor and Ohr LaShav. The following article is an excerpt from Bein Sheishes Le’Asor by Rabbi Shlomo Wolbe; translation by Rabbi Eliyahu Krakowski.

After many years during which the public at large distanced itself from “religion” and “religious people,” there has been a shift in attitude. Many yearn to learn about Judaism, and many seek the way back to a life of Torah.

The Six-Day War marked the beginning of this new period. Throughout the country, there was a palpable atmosphere of drawing closer to the source of our life—our sacred Torah. Quite a few soldiers returned from the front lines as ba’alei teshuvah Since then, many doors have been opened to teach and explain the Torah—doors that had previously been closed to anything connected to “religion.” The excitement engendered by the miracles that occurred in those days faded afterward, but the yearning did not. Thoughts of repentance are awakening in the hearts of many, and interest in Judaism is continually growing.

The Yom Kippur War added a new stage to this inner transformation: it abruptly revealed the powerlessness and irresponsibility of leaders who had been crowned with a halo of heroism and victory until then. The breaking of idols continues. The disappointment with values and principles is spreading. A moral, cultural, social and ideological breakdown is shaking the very foundations of the State of Israel, and its future is shrouded in uncertainty. People of stature are preoccupied with the question: Can a state that is stripped of inner substance, fragmented and shaken by frequent scandals endure? And this question troubles them far more than the severe problems of foreign policy.

“I believe with perfect faith” that the hand of Divine Providence guides us: that the recent wars came to awaken us, to draw us near and to turn us from false values toward the truth of the eternal people. Divine Providence has granted us “a time of repentance for all.”

“I believe with perfect faith” that the beginning of the return to Judaism was small, but its end will be very great. More and more groups and individuals will open their eyes and recognize what generations have neglected: the Torah of our G-d, which is both the soul of the nation and the soul of our land. Knowledge will increase, the yearning will grow, until it encompasses every home,

every circle, every unit, every school and every organization within the State of Israel.

“I believe with perfect faith” that a quiet and profound revolution is taking place in our midst. It has not yet reached the surface. Political parties ignore it. The media strive to silence it. But it is a fact. It is a modest revolution. Not in noise is the L-rd. Propaganda slogans are foreign to it. But it is expanding among wide circles. This inner revolution will lead to the revelation of a people of Israel renewed and strengthened in the faith of our Torah and in the observance of our commandments—the Hand of the G-d of Israel will achieve this!

Silent and still stand the fortresses of Torah, full of light on the inside but concealed and deaf to the outside. Now, however, the time has come to emerge from the hidden strength of the inner teachings of the Torah, outwards to those searching for the way— to extend a hand, to draw near, to teach and to explain!

For the Torah scholars who have already absorbed the Talmud and the halachic responsa and have merited entry into the inner orchard of the Torah—they are called to assist in this process of the people’s return to Torah and mitzvot. Only they can accomplish this. It is for them that the masses are waiting—not for the politicians. The public is weary of hearing ideologies tailored for election campaigns! The Torah scholars, who have no dealings with political parties, are tasked with bringing people closer and revealing the light within the Torah.

Every Torah scholar blessed with the gift of teaching should sometimes step outside the walls of the study hall to teach and explain. Every learned Jew who is skilled with the pen should write—to draw people closer and to clarify. It depends on us!

Excerpted from Rabbi Shlomo Wolbe, Bein Sheishes Le’Asor, 2nd ed. (Jerusalem: 1994, first edition 1976).

Rabbi Eliyahu Krakowski is book editor for Jewish Action and executive editor of OU Press.

Chief Chaplain Rabbi Shlomo Goren carries a sefer Torah and blows a shofar while surrounded by IDF soldiers on the Temple Mount after the Six-Day War. Photo: Eli Landau/Israel Government Press Office

RETHINKING OUTREACH

Rabbi Dovid Bashevkin, Jewish Action Editorial Committee member and host of the 18Forty Podcast, recently sat down with Rabbi Yitzchak Breitowitz to discuss the American Jewish response to October 7 and how it compares to the religious awakening after the Six-Day War.

Rabbi Yitzchak Breitowitz is a senior lecturer at Yeshivas Ohr Somayach in Jerusalem and serves as Jewish Action’s rabbinic advisor. Prior to making aliyah in 2010, he was the rabbi of the Woodside Synagogue Ahavas Torah in Silver Spring, Maryland, and professor of law at the University of Maryland Law School. He received semichah from Ner Israel Rabbinical College, a BA from Johns Hopkins University, and a JD from Harvard Law School. He has written and lectured extensively both in the United States and Israel.

Israeli armor going into battle at Rafa during the Six-Day

POSTOCTOBER 7

War.

Photo: Han Micha/Israel Government Press Office

Jews in America are increasingly interested in engaging in Judaism, as seen in Manhattan’s new Altneu Synagogue.

Courtesy of the Altneu Synagogue

Rabbi Dovid Bashevkin:

I want to discuss the awakening that has taken place surrounding Jewish identity post-October 7. Following the Six-Day War, talmidei chachamim like Rabbi Shlomo Wolbe began trying to reach out beyond the boundaries of the religious community to Jews who were experiencing their Jewish identity in new ways for the first time. Do you feel this moment is similar, and if so, are there any significant differences?

Rabbi Yitzchak Breitowitz:

The short answer is that there are similarities, but there are also significant differences. One significant and obvious difference is that the Six-Day War concluded with a miraculous victory for Israel. Even people who were not religious saw the hand of G-d. The genesis of the entire teshuvah movement in Eretz Yisrael, from the founding of Ohr Somayach and Aish HaTorah to the hundreds of ba’alei teshuvah coming to the Wall, was a consequence of the gilui, the clear revelation, of Hakadosh Baruch Hu experienced in the Six-Day War. Now, by contrast, we are unfortunately in the opposite situation: We suffered a devastating massacre on October 7, and the hostages [as of this interview in the fall of 2024] are still in captivity. Just recently, six people on the verge of being rescued were brutally murdered in cold blood. In the current situation, we don’t have that open yad Hashem.

Back in April and again in October, when Iran launched hundreds of missiles at Israel, there were blatant miracles. But the euphoria simply wasn’t present. We are at war, and there is no clear endpoint. We hope there will be a yeshuah. But the post-1967 euphoria resulting from the recapturing of the Kotel and the Old City is simply lacking.

However, there is a common denominator. Many people don’t remember what life in Israel was like before October 7. There was talk of the country falling apart as a result of judicial reform and various other issues. The polarization in Israeli society was so extreme that some people threatened to pull out their financial investments and

soldiers talked about not reporting for duty.

Baruch Hashem, all soldiers did report for duty following October 7. But who knows if it wasn’t those threats that emboldened Hamas? Society was on the verge of falling apart. At a Yom Kippur minyan in Dizengoff Square in Tel Aviv, people began tearing down the mechitzah. But the fault lay on both sides; the disunity stemmed from both the religious and nonreligious.

The tragedy of October 7 brought with it a miraculous transformation in Israeli society. If there was any silver lining in the dark cloud, it was a sense of achdus, a feeling that we’re all in this together, we’re all on the same page. The divisions between religious and secular were collapsing. Chareidim were delivering tzitzis, tefillin and medicine to chayalim. People were working together. Sapir Cohen, one of the hostages who was released relatively early, related that one of her captors was watching footage of some of the unity rallies and the terrorist remarked that when Jews are together, they are very strong. Even a terrorist recognized this phenomenon!

In many ways, the achdus, the unity, the sense of purpose, the ahavas Yisrael, the “Kol Yisrael areivim zeh la’zeh” could’ve been our yeshuah. The turn toward Hashem might not have been the same as in the aftermath of the Six-Day War, but it wasn’t insignificant.

In the words of Dickens, “it was the worst of times,” but in some limited ways, “it was the best of times.” It’s very unfortunate that we are often at our best in times of adversity, but unfortunately that’s often the nature of life, the nature of human beings and the nature of Jews in particular.

What I’m very concerned about, though, is that as the war continues, and as the tragedies continue to pile on vis-à-vis the hostages, we will become like an elastic band. Let go of it and we go back to our old ways. Some of the genuine achdus that was developing in Klal Yisrael is still there. But on many levels, it’s petering out and we’re finding a resurgence of the old divisions along with

the emergence of new divisions. This is a tragedy compounding a tragedy. The war and the hostages and the suffering are tragedies, but if we go through a tragedy and we don’t learn from it, grow from it and become better from it, then that’s truly a wasted opportunity, a tragedy without any redeeming feature.

RDB: Your response focuses heavily on the Jewish people in Israel. But in North America, with the second-to-largest Jewish population in the world, Jewish identity has also been very much in the headlines. Many Jews in America are experiencing their Jewish identity for the first time. Yet I have not seen sufficient effort from within the educated Orthodox community to reach out to those Jews. Is it possible that Orthodoxy, particularly in America, has become a victim of its own success? We don’t really have a template, because on American shores the Orthodox community was always the underdog. But now, over the last seventy-five years, we’ve built incredible, vibrant communities with solid religious infrastructure, including shuls, yeshivos, day schools and communal institutions. Are we doing what we should be doing when it comes to reaching out to our brothers and sisters who are outside of the Orthodox community?

RYB: You raise some interesting points. I grew up in Hartford, Connecticut, which had a small Orthodox community. I went to a local Orthodox day school, but 75 percent of my classmates were from non–shomer Shabbos homes. We grew up, we integrated and we kind of got along. Even though people today might look at that type of integrated school with disdain,

Rabbi Dovid Bashevkin, a member of the Jewish Action Editorial Committee, is the founder of 18Forty, a popular media site discussing big Jewish ideas. He is also director of education for NCSY and clinical assistant professor of Jewish values at the Sy Syms School of Business at Yeshiva University.

OU ISRAEL A Place We Call Home

For over 40 years, OU Israel has helped ensure English-speaking olim and visitors acclimate to Israeli society, feel at home and contribute to the State of Israel.

YOUNG FAMILIES

ADULT EDUCATION

u Women’s Division

u The Bais in memory of Mrs. Charlotte Brachfeld a”hEvening Beit Midrash program for Men

u Gustave & Carol Jacobs Center for Kashrut Education

u OU Israel Shiurim by world renown Rabbis, Rebbetzins & lecturers

u Torah Tidbits is the largest weekly English language Torah publication in Israel

u Hebrew-on-theGo for young olim families

u NCSY Israel for English-speaking teens

u Yachad Israel for families with children who have special needs

u Camp Dror for campers entering 5th-11th grades

YOUNG ADULTS

u ATID for lone olot in their 20s

u NextGen for young women (single & married) in their 20s-40s

u JCHAT is a young professionals network for single olim in their 30s-40s

u OU-JLIC is on ten campuses in Israel

COMMUNITY CELEBRATIONS & MEGA EVENTS

u Leil Yom HaAztmaut musical Tefila

u Yom Yerushalayim musical Shacharit

u Shavuot night learning

u Community Torah Summits

there were a lot of positives in that type of modality. There was a sense of common faith and common commitment, a feeling that we’re all part of Am Yisrael.

Now, baruch Hashem, the religious world has developed. It has grown much bigger, stronger, more organized and more self-sufficient. At the same time, this tends to create a certain insularity. We want to shield our children not only from nonreligious Jews but even from religious Jews of a different ilk. While that’s a sign of strength, it also means that our children are simply not being exposed to different types of Jews. And when they become adults, they continue that type of insularity. On the flip side as well, kids from different backgrounds and levels of observance aren’t getting to mingle with frum kids. So there’s this great divide.

You lose some things while gaining others. As you mentioned, being a victim of our success is a real problem, both in chutz la’Aretz and in Eretz Yisrael. At the same time, I don’t want to paint as bleak a picture as you’re painting. There is a significant amount of Jewish outreach taking place in the United States. Although the anti-Israel sentiment on campus is enormously powerful and many Jews are swept up in the antiZionism rhetoric, it has also been a flashpoint for bringing people to Judaism. A friend of mine who works in college

kiruv hosts a Friday night meal for students, and he noted to me that one Friday night shortly after October 7, a Jewish kid whom he had never seen before walked in. The young man was not connected to Hillel or to any Jewish group on campus. He said, “I realize now that you are my friends and you are my family, and I want to be connected to you.” It wasn’t a religious awakening. It wasn’t a spiritual epiphany, but it was a sense of shared fate: You are my people, and I want to be connected to you.

I believe this bears repeating: while I don’t think it’s as grim as you describe, there is certainly accuracy in some aspects of your description. We’ve been too insular and too preoccupied with our own survival. Which is understandable. But once we become successful and our own survival is well established, we need to look outward. We can’t be focusing on ourselves all the time, even though that may have been necessary at an earlier stage in American Orthodox history.

RDB: The kiruv movement has a very specific lens through which it approaches non-Orthodox Jews, and that tends to be: “We are Orthodox, we have the truth, and we would like to share that truth with you in order to make you Orthodox.” Much of the kiruv world is very outcome driven. The thinking is: We’re not here to just give people a pat on the back and remind them

Jews are experiencing their Jewish identity in new ways for the first time, as seen at the Kesher Yehudi Simchat Torah event for Nova survivors and hostage families. Courtesy of

of their Jewish identity. We're here to make people shomer Torah u’mitzvos. But not everybody, given their starting point, can end up leading a fully Orthodox life, at least not in the way we think of it in 2024. Do we need to reevaluate what the outcome should be in our interactions with non-Orthodox Jews? Is there another path we should be imagining that is perhaps more realistic or more accessible for a wider swath of Jews? What’s the change that might be necessary for the kiruv movement to really meet the magnitude of this moment?

RYB: I agree that we may have to redefine what we mean by kiruv. There are many different components here.

The paradigm of the kiruv movement is to get an individual into a yeshivah such as Ohr Somayach or Aish HaTorah, or a women’s seminary such as Neve Yerushalayim, for six months or a year, or longer. That tends to be the measure of success. And indeed, that is an extremely important goal.

At the same time, there should be other types of goals within the kiruv world besides helping someone become a fullfledged Orthodox Jew. There is the kiruv of Jewish identification, there is the kiruv of a person learning to care about the Jewish people, there is the kiruv of just being connected to the history of our people and to G-d’s providence in Jewish history.

Kesher Yehudi

Chief Chaplain Rabbi Shlomo Goren carries a sefer Torah surrounded by IDF soldiers at the Western Wall after the Six-Day War. Photo: Eli Landau/Israel Government Press Office

If we want to attract Jews to Torah, we ourselves have to work on creating communities in which people are connected to the Ribbono Shel Olam with genuine deveikus.

Here in Israel, there is what I call “Tel Aviv kiruv.” For many years there was no real Jewish outreach in Tel Aviv, but in recent years there’s been a small revolution in Tel Aviv and it hasn’t necessarily been based on observance or Torah learning, but rather on social identification. It’s had the salutary effect of bringing people to observe Shabbos on some level and to keep some Jewish traditions. It’s more of a family-based kiruv rather than a student-based kiruv; often, when people have children, they’re more interested in exploring their traditions. While some would refer to this critically as “superficial, gastronomic Judaism,” within its own parameters I see some significant success there. I would classify such kiruv as a legitimate form of outreach.

You’re making the argument that we need to create more of those options. Perhaps this type of kiruv would then feed into a more intense Jewish level of observance, but even if not, it would serve an intrinsic end in and of itself. We have to redefine success. You know the old saying, “Half a loaf is better than none.” If we get somebody to identify with Klal Yisrael, that’s a certain measure of hatzlachah. We can’t define success so narrowly that tremendous percentages of Jews are simply excluded from the definition of success.

The challenge is not to dilute the core

commitments to Torah and mitzvos, but to create alternative pathways that can help nonreligious Jews and give them a more spiritual grounding and more of a connection to Hashem. Chabad might be a bit of a role model in this regard— the nonjudgmental, accepting and fully welcoming approach.

RDB: Surely some of the responsibility for the assimilation of the broader Jewish community falls on Orthodox shoulders. What do you think our responsibility is? What could we have done differently, and what should we begin doing differently?

RYB: I do not want to cast aspersions on the tremendous, devoted work that has been done over decades in trying to build a vibrant Orthodoxy. The truth of the matter is that it was a miracle. If you go back to the 1940s or earlier, it was a given that there was no future for Orthodoxy. The assumption was that Orthodoxy would die out and we would be left with a few religious European immigrants. That’s why so many Orthodox rabbis became Conservative and Reform. The resurgence of Orthodoxy is a gift from Hashem that was dependent on the mesirus nefesh of the post-war generation.

The point you raise—that the Orthodox community may have a certain responsibility for the assimilation of the non-Orthodox community—was made by Rabbi Avraham Yitzchak HaKohen Kook in the early twentieth century.

He said that there are Jews who are rebelling against the superficiality and externalities of formalized religion, and even though they may be going in the wrong direction, it’s a wake-up call for religious Jews to understand that religion and spirituality are not the same thing. A person might keep all the halachos in a very conspicuous way, but without a sense of Hashem, without a sense of love, without a sense of reverence. When Judaism becomes a series of dos and don’ts and is not accompanied by inner spiritual content, there will be many sensitive people who will turn against it in search of some other meaning in life. They will often try to look for it in false

places, but Rabbi Kook saw this as a holy impulse coming from a good place.

So while I don’t want to blame anybody for anything, if we portray being an Orthodox Jew as “you can’t do this and you can’t do that,” and we are not connected in a spiritual way to a relationship with G-d, then we are going to be viewed as archaic and superficial. If we want to attract Jews to Torah, we ourselves have to work on creating communities in which people are connected to the Ribbono Shel Olam with genuine deveikus. In fact, the fairly recent phenomenon of neo-Chassidism is an attempt to try and infuse within our communities a sense of authentic spirituality that has unfortunately often been a casualty of modernity. In some ways, we’ve been so focused on buildings and infrastructure that we’ve neglected Hashem in the whole equation.

That’s the first answer to your question about Orthodox responsibility for nonOrthodox assimilation.

Secondly, there is the element of ahavas Yisrael. If we communicate the message that you’re not welcome, you’re not legitimate, you’re not a real Jew, then they’re going to respond in kind. If I’m not Jewish enough for you, why should I join you?

A pasuk that I often quote is the maxim pronounced by Shlomo Hamelech in Mishlei, “Kamayim hapanim lapanim kein lev ha’adam la’adam—As water reflects a face back to a face, so one’s heart is reflected back to him by another.” If I show a person respect, regard and legitimation, he’s going to be open to what it is that I represent. If I show a person disparagement, a sense that he’s not good enough and he doesn’t count, he’s going to feel that way about me.

So while I don’t want to phrase it in terms of blame, if we’re too busy delegitimizing people and not respecting their integrity as human beings and as spiritual seekers, then they’re not going to see value in what we’re doing either. Even if from our perspective they’re on the wrong path, we need to recognize the good in people. That is fundamental.

Outreach Obligations and Responsibilities What Does Halachah Say?

Rabbi Shmuel Fuerst, rav of Agudas Yisrael of Peterson Park, Chicago, Illinois, and a dayan for more than forty years, in discussion with Rabbi Micah Greenland, international director of NCSY. Rabbi Phil Karesh, executive director of the OU's Community Projects & Partnerships, moderated.

Rabbi Phil Karesh:

What are the sources in halachic literature for the obligation to reach out to our secular Jewish brothers and sisters? Is the obligation Biblical or rabbinic? As a corollary, how does the obligation apply to the average member of the Orthodox community?

Rabbi Shmuel Fuerst:

Our obligation to engage in outreach is included in the Biblical obligation to love our fellow Jew—“v’ahavta l’rei’acha kamocha” (Vayikra 19:18).

The obligation is also included in other mitzvos as well. Rambam says in Hilchos Yesodei HaTorah that we have a mitzvah

to love Hashem, ahavas Hashem. He also discusses in the beginning of Hilchos Avodah Zarah how avodah zarah (idol worship) first evolved, going back to the generation of Enosh, when mankind made a great mistake. Rambam brings down what Avraham Avinu did—how he spread knowledge of Hashem to the rest of the world—which is what we should be doing as well.

Of the 613 mitzvos, whatever mitzvos we can do, we are obligated to do. One might argue, “I’m a businessman, I’m not an outreach professional.” But even in the workplace, there are opportunities. How about learning a mishnah with a secular

work colleague during lunch break?

Furthermore, people who can’t do kiruv directly can contribute to the mitzvah financially. We must see to it that Yidden remain Yidden. That’s our obligation.

Obviously, we are not going to reach every secular Jew, but we need to do whatever we can do, even if we only reach 10 or 20 percent. Every Jew has that responsibility to bring Jews back to the Ribbono Shel Olam.

The obligation is also included in the prohibition of “lo sa’amod al dam rei’echa You shall not stand idly by [when] the blood (life) of your fellow [is in danger]” (Vayikra 19:16). If you see someone

Rabbi Shmuel Fuerst (left), speaking with Rabbi Micah Greenland.

drowning, you are halachically obligated to save him. Similarly, if you see someone drowning spiritually, you must save him.

RPK: Obviously, in any Orthodox Jewish community, there are significant donors who sustain the community—some support kollelim, some support schools, others support shuls, et cetera. How should we prioritize communal resources from a halachic perspective as it relates to reaching out to our secular Jewish brothers and sisters?

RSF: First we must support yeshivas and day schools. Our educational institutions need to survive.

At the same time, we can’t forget about our non-frum brothers and sisters. We know that if they get a proper Jewish education, there is a good chance they will become shomer Torah u’mitzvos If they don’t get the proper Jewish education, the risk of intermarriage is very high.

So from a halachic standpoint, our first obligation is to continue to support local institutions and to keep the status quo. Then after that—once we ensure our own foundations are solid—we must fund institutions that engage in outreach to those outside the frum community.

Rabbi Micah Greenland:

I just want to clarify: the Dayan referred to safeguarding our communal Torah institutions. But it would seem that different times demand different responses. Right now, with so many Jews seeking to strengthen their Jewish identity post-October 7, outreach seems more urgent and perhaps we need to extend ourselves further. Would Rabbi Fuerst agree that when we have an opportunity to act "while the iron is hot," we should do so to inspire Jewish identity?

RSF: Yes, I agree. There are, baruch Hashem, enough resources in the community to support all that is needed.

RPK: The Six-Day War was a great catalyst for the teshuvah movement. Should we view October 7 similarly? Is this something that will last?

RSF: I recall that the teshuvah movement really got off the ground after the Six-Day War. That’s when Aish HaTorah, Ohr

Somayach and all other yeshivos for ba’alei teshuvah were founded. And the kiruv movement spread across the world, to Chicago, Dallas, Houston and so on.

There were other such resurgences, like the Yom Kippur War. Whenever there are tzaros (troubles), pain, suffering and antisemitism, Jews tend to wake up and feel their Jewishness more intensely.

With all that has happened since October 7 and especially the growing antisemitism in this country, we have a great opportunity to engage in kiruv.

RMG: No question, the broader Jewish world has experienced significant spiritual growth since October 7, but I see this unfolding in two distinct stages. The first stage is a strengthening of Jewish identity. Before October 7, many Jews were so integrated and assimilated into American society that Jewish teenagers in public high school often seemed indistinguishable from any other student. They weren’t likely to say out loud, “I’m a Jew, and I’m proud.”

But since October 7, we’ve witnessed a remarkable surge in Jewish identification. We’ve seen more girls proudly wearing Magen David necklaces, and more boys who are comfortable donning a yarmulke or putting on tefillin. Jewish Student Union (JSU) clubs in public high schools have grown by 26 percent in the last year alone. Before October 7, about 15,000 students participated in JSU programs; that number has now climbed to nearly 19,000.

That’s the first wave—an amplification of Jewish identification—and we must make the most of this moment. The second stage is deeper: it’s about connecting Jews to their own neshamos their spiritual essence and yearning— which they may or may not be aware of.

Once these young people feel a stronger sense of Jewish identity, we have an incredible opportunity to help them tap into their spiritual yearnings. More and more public school students are davening, reciting Tehillim, even attending Shabbos meals and wearing tzitzis. We’re only beginning to scratch the surface of what’s possible, but the potential is enormous. In response to your question about whether this will last—I think the mask has come off in American society. The America I grew up in wasn’t overtly antisemitic. Most Jews back then didn’t even encounter antisemitism, or if they did, it was rare and isolated. Today, baruch Hashem, the majority of Americans still stand with us. But there’s also a very vocal and sizable minority that is actively hostile toward Judaism and the Jewish community. That hostility, I believe, is going to fuel a lasting sense of Jewish identification. It’s going to create a real need for youth and adults alike to say, “Okay, if this is the climate we’re living in, then I need solidarity. I need community. I need to embrace my identity and reconnect with heritage.”

RPK: What opportunities are inherent in this moment that might not have been possible before October 7?

RSF: There’s a unique opportunity to try and recruit Jewish students attending public school and get them into Jewish day schools. We should consider creating special tracks or classes for these students, as they can’t just be placed in a day school class. Many of them probably can’t read Hebrew and simply lack the background. But the question of how to integrate these students should be left up to each school.

If you see someone drowning, you are halachically obligated to save him. Similarly, if you see someone drowning spiritually, you must save him.

Show them a love for Yiddishkeit. . . . Children have to see simchas hachaim, a joy in living a religious life.

RMG: And the Rav is saying it’s a communal obligation to recruit these students and provide a day school education for them. Correct?

RSF: Yes, it’s a communal obligation. Every school should make provisions for this. Even before October 7, when a public school student would express interest in attending a Jewish day school, it would often present a challenge, as generally speaking, our day schools are not equipped to handle public school students and they have no idea where to place them or how to integrate them. Our schools need to create specific tracks for these students with kiruv professionals serving as rebbeim. Understandably you don’t want to have twenty public school students in one day school class, but six or seven could, with the right attention and care, be properly integrated.

RPK: So the Dayan envisions integrating public school students into existing day schools rather than creating separate institutions?

RSF: Yes, ideally every day school across the country should have some sort of track for this within its existing structure. This is a better approach than creating a separate school because it allows nonfrum Jewish students to learn from frum students. Of course, the school needs to be mindful about how to approach this. If done well, full integration could be seamless within a year or two.

But if there is strong opposition to creating such a track due to concerns about the influence on frum students, then by all means, a new school should be established. The key is not to just sit by and do nothing.

RMG: I want to add that this is a unique moment. There is momentum toward Jewish identification now that we haven’t seen in decades—maybe ever in my lifetime.

RSF: And it will probably continue for a while.

RPK: I want to touch upon the various approaches to kiruv. Rabbi Noach Weinberg, founder of Aish HaTorah, and Rabbi Mendel Weinbach, founding rosh yeshivah of Ohr Somayach, each had different opinions on success in outreach. Rabbi Weinberg believed the goal should be to cast a wide net and prevent intermarriage. Rabbi Weinbach, on the other hand, believed in encouraging maximum growth in individuals, or as Rabbi Edelstein puts it, “help someone go all the way—to mainstream and graduate into the Mir.” How should success be defined in the context of outreach?

RSF: Rabbi Weinberg and Rabbi Weinbach were both correct. This isn’t contradictory. Some people will unfortunately never become shomer Torah u’mitzvos. While ideally the goal is to help a person become a shomer Torah u’mitzvos and integrate into the community since that guarantees survival, not everyone can do that. Not everyone wants to give up his nonobservant lifestyle. You’re not going to change that. But if you can help him solidify his Jewish identity and give him a strong enough feeling for Judaism so that he won’t intermarry, that’s also a tremendous accomplishment. If they marry Jewish, there’s a good chance their children will come to shemiras hamitzvos. You never know. Nowadays you often find children of ba’alei teshuvah who are beki’im b’Shas (experts in all of Gemara) or even roshei yeshivah; many of them are better talmidim than the students whose parents are frum from birth. There are no guarantees in life.

RMG: Rabbi Fuerst will correct me if I’m wrong, but when I’m asked about my definition of success in outreach, I always say—even if we don’t hit the mark completely, how can we think we’re not successful? The ultimate goal is to help a Jew become a shomer Torah u’mitzvos, but if we’re able to prevent intermarriage, isn’t

that also something that brings nachas ruach to the Ribbono Shel Olam?

RSF: Of course.

RPK: What about kiruv kerovim, outreach to those already frum? Does it carry the same halachic obligation we discussed earlier or is it separate? Obviously, there’s a difference in engaging with Jews who know very little versus Jews who may go to shul regularly or are at least part of a frum community. Is this a time for additional inspiration and connection to be fostered among those who are already frum, and if so, what strategies should be employed?

RSF: It seems to me that we have to fight on all fronts. The halachic obligations for kiruv rechokim and for kiruv kerovim are the same. There are hundreds and hundreds of individuals who come from frum backgrounds and went through our yeshivah and day school system who are for some reason no longer frum today. We have to be mekarev them too. Sometimes it’s easier to be mekarev someone who knows what Yiddishkeit is. And a lot of these young people do come back. Oftentimes they will go off the derech for a few years, but after some time they see the light, they see the emes in Torah. But even the student who is shomer Torah u’mitzvos needs some special attention from a rebbi. Today’s rebbeim have to be psychologists too. Young people today are very fragile. The whole generation is fragile. Everyone needs kiruv

RPK: I’m sure the Dayan has received hundreds of phone calls over the years from families who are concerned about their children going off the derech. What advice would the Dayan give to parents?

RSF: Show them a love for Yiddishkeit. Show them that you enjoy going to shul. Don’t make it seem like a burden. Demonstrate a love for mitzvos. Children have to see simchas hachaim, a joy in living a religious life. They have to see a loving marriage between their father and mother. You have to show them the beauty of Yiddishkeit

RPK : Rabbi Greenland, since NCSY engages in both kiruv kerovim and

kiruv rechokim, when you run Shabbatonim, you often have a mix of students—the typical public school teens who might not be observant yet and day school students as well. So I’m really curious to hear your perspective on the kiruv kerovim aspect.

RMG: I agree that the obligations are similar. I would say there is a dual crisis within American Jewry.

On one hand, with Jewish students who are completely disenfranchised, we have the crisis of illiteracy, apathy and assimilation. Then there’s a separate crisis within the frum community—young people for whom Shabbos isn’t really Shabbos, and whose davening isn’t really davening. That’s its own crisis, and Rabbi Fuerst’s strategies for parents are spot on.

I think there’s an important distinction in how we need to approach these two crises. There are many communal organizations focused on the frum community and therefore partnership is critical. We have to work together—parents, schools, shuls and communal chinuch organizations like NCSY—to enhance these teens’ Yiddishkeit while respecting the role each individual partner plays.

This is generally not the case when it comes to students with a minimal connection to the Jewish community; for them, becoming more Jewishly engaged is often a lonely pursuit. There’s no school dedicated to providing a Torah education to those individuals. There’s no shul giving them a framework for religious growth. So when we’re dealing with such students, we need very specific strategies to find them, educate them and inspire them.

RSF: We need to realize just how crucial kiruv kerovim is as well as kiruv rechokim

We have to support all kiruv efforts. But specifically now, after October 7, we need to start putting more funding into building up the kiruv organizations that reach out to the unaffiliated. A car can’t run without gas, and these organizations can’t operate without adequate funding. The ba’alei batim in each community should be at the forefront of this.

Now is the time to save those Jews who are leaving due to escalating rates of intermarriage and assimilation. Mi laHashem eilai! (Who is for Hashem, join me!)

If we wait too long, it will be too late. We must act now.

Jewish Identity

Speaking with Rabbi Dovid Bashevkin

Rabbi Dovid Bashevkin

Jewish Action:

One of the fastest-growing sectors in the Jewish world today is the “Jews of no religion,” sometimes called “nones.” In his book Will We Have Jewish Grandchildren? the late Rabbi Jonathan Sacks writes:

There is one widely held view, which I call Jewish Darwinism. It says that throughout the generations, only the fittest Jews survive. At all times, and especially in an open society, Jews leave the fold. They opt out, marry out and disappear. . . . Only the most dedicated remain. On this view, it is futile to speak of continuity as a program for all Jews. Instead, one should concentrate on the committed. They are Jewry’s survivalists. Only they will have Jewish grandchildren. Their schools, yeshivot, and houses of study will compensate for Jewish ignorance elsewhere. Their large families will make up for Jews lost elsewhere. In an age in which 80 percent of young Jews see nothing wrong in intermarriage, there is no point in even talking to 80 percent of young Jews, let alone wasting resources on them. Instead, we should focus exclusively on the 20 percent who will survive.

Rabbi Sacks obviously did not subscribe to this view. What do you think of the “Jewish Darwinism?"

Where is this view coming from? Is it coming from a sense of despair?

Rabbi Dovid Bashevkin:

When G-d first promises the Land of Israel to Avraham and his descendants, He introduces Himself by saying, “I am the G-d Who took you out of Ur Kasdim to assign this Land to you as a possession.” And Avraham responds by asking, “How do I know that I will possess it?”

Avraham is criticized for questioning G-d. But G-d’s response is even more perplexing: He introduces the idea of the exile and ensuing redemption from Egypt.

What is going on in this enigmatic conversation?

This dialogue is, in fact, at the very heart of the structure of Judaism and should be the starting point for any conversation about Jewish identity. G-d references Ur Kasdim because that’s where Avraham was willing to give up his life to serve G-d. Look at the dialogue. G-d says, “I took you out of Ur Kasdim and will give you the Land [of Israel].” And Avraham responds by asking, “How do I know this promise is real?” In other words, what Avraham is saying is this: What about my greatgreat-grandchildren? What if they won’t be as committed? What if I have children who are not as on fire with Yiddishkeit as I am, who are not as connected to Judaism?”

G-d’s response to that question is a reformulation of Jewish identity, an identity that was created through Yetziat Mitzrayim. We possess an immutable Jewish identity. The founders of our religion are not referred to as “rabbis and rebbetzins,” but as Avot and Imahot. That’s intentional. The Jewish people were a family before we were a religion.

JA: True. But what about once the Jewish people received the Torah?

RDB: Even after Har Sinai, which introduced the religious obligations into the mix, our immutable Jewish identity was not uprooted. There are these two parts of Jewish identity: a part that is grounded in our religious obligations— the observance of Torah and mitzvot and a part that is not contingent on our observance and commitment.

I understand those who believe in Jewish Darwinism. It’s a point of fact in any community that only the strong and committed will survive. That is a descriptive reality, but it doesn’t explain why G-d structured Judaism in this way: why did G-d create our identity in such a way that I am bound to people

They weren’t necessarily yeshivah graduates, and their halachic knowledge might have been much less developed, but they had tremendous mesirut nefesh for living a Jewish life. That is a Yiddishkeit that is simply unknown today.

who have no connection to Torah and mitzvot? This question should bother every Orthodox Jew.

JA: But this question was less applicable throughout much of Jewish history. Why do questions surrounding Jewish identity seem so much more relevant in contemporary times?

RDB: Throughout much of Jewish history, our Jewish identity was an organizing principle in how we operated in society. Being a Jew affected your taxation, where you could live, what professions you could have. It shaped your entire worldview. So our

Rabbi Dovid Bashevkin, a member of the Jewish Action Editorial Committee, is the founder of 18Forty, a media site discussing big Jewish ideas. He is also director of education for NCSY, and an instructor at Yeshiva University, where he teaches courses on public policy, religious crisis and rabbinic thought.

We have to realize: These Jews are not going to an Orthodox shul. They’re not coming through the shul doors. We need to be building better doorways for engagement.

connection to “Jews in name only,” which always existed in one way or another, was much more obvious.

The challenge of modernity and Enlightenment was that Jewish identity ceased to be externally imposed upon us by society, and we were kind of left with a fundamental question: what could we do to bind us as a people?

Following the Holocaust, the rabbis who came to America made a deliberate choice—in order to preserve the religious element of our identity, we needed two things: a school system that would provide religious education, and a way to organize communally in a different manner than we’d been organized for most of Jewish history.

Firstly, they understood that day schools were needed to imbue future generations with an enduring sense of Jewish identity. Secondly, they realized that now that the non-Jewish government would no longer define for us what our Jewish identity meant, we would have to define it for ourselves.

These changes began in America in the 1950s, when Orthodoxy stepped up to preserve the religious character of Jewish identity: we believe in G-d, we believe in Torah, we believe in mitzvot, and we

won’t be able to preserve it unless we recruit people to this way of life.

It's remarkable what the postHolocaust generations built in America, and the extraordinary creation and growth of the State of Israel is certainly a modern-day miracle. But I want to focus on American Jewry for now. We don’t spend enough time reflecting on the past, on the history of the American Orthodox Jewish community. We need to take a step back and learn about and appreciate the miracles of our survival and our flourishing in America.

JA: What are some of the concerns you have about Orthodox life today as it relates to the non-Orthodox world?

RDB: My number one concern is that the Orthodox world we currently inhabit cannot really reach beyond itself. Because of the very structure of the community, the level of Jewish education we take for granted, and the cost of living in an Orthodox community, thriving Orthodox communities exist only in a few select areas. We have essentially abandoned small-town Judaism as a relic.

When I visit small Jewish towns, I often sense that they are preserving an authenticity of the mesorah. As a general statement, the Jews in small towns tend to be more deeply engaged with their own Yiddishkeit and Jewish identity than those who grow up in well-established Jewish communities.

A famous story is told by novelist and English professor David Foster Wallace. Two young fish are swimming along in the water. They meet an older fish, who asks them, “How’s the water?” One young fish looks at the other and says, “What’s water?”

That is an analogy for the Orthodox community of 2024. We don’t even recognize the communal framework that surrounds us and guides us. We take for granted the intricate structure

that carries us from elementary school through high school and a year in Israel. Our Judaism has become very institutionalized. I believe the original, authentic Yiddishkeit is the Judaism that emanates from the home. That was the hallmark of small-town Judaism. They weren’t necessarily yeshivah graduates, and their halachic knowledge might have been much less developed, but they had tremendous mesirut nefesh for living a Jewish life. That is a Yiddishkeit that is simply unknown today.

My Bubby wasn’t frum enough to have a biography written about her—but she had to sacrifice for her Jewish identity, driving an hour and a half to buy kosher meat, when many of those around her stopped eating kosher. While being religious has become so convenient, that convenience comes at a cost. Oftentimes, it comes at the cost of passion and sacrifice.

JA: Is the Orthodox community doing enough to reach the masses of alienated Jews and bring them closer to their Jewish roots in one way or another?

RDB: We cannot expect to stem the tide of assimilation. That’s the work of Hakadosh Baruch Hu. It’s the promise of Hakadosh Baruch Hu in Parashat Nitzavim, where He says that at the end of history, all of the Jewish people will find their way back. We also cannot expect to get all Jews to shift to fully Orthodox communities. Not everyone has that capacity or ability.

But my goal as a Jewish educator is to at least consider these questions: Are there any aspects of Judaism that can be made accessible to the entirety of the Jewish people? And how can we reach each individual where he or she is?

Will that stem the tide of assimilation? I don’t know.

JA: How do you suggest we reach nonOrthodox Jews?

RDB: We have to realize: These Jews are not going to an Orthodox shul. They’re not coming through the shul doors. We need to be building better doorways for engagement.

Firstly, we need to articulate Torah to a wider audience. Rabbi Jonathan Sacks opened up the study of parashah to a non-Orthodox audience while also enriching the Orthodox world. We should be spreading Torah for beginners. What Rabbi Sacks did for Chumash, we should be doing for every facet of Torah.

Most of the writing, the online shiurim and even the apps emanating from the Orthodox world are totally unintelligible to those who did not attend a yeshivah or day school—which is a huge problem. We don’t even have the language to talk about Yiddishkeit outside of our community. We’re not challenging ourselves to communicate Torah ideas to new audiences outside of our community. But that is the lifeblood. That is what energizes Yiddishkeit. Yiddishkeit weds the values of Torah to new demographics and new generations of Jews.

Secondly, for those who can’t or don’t want to learn Torah, we should be creating “Torah-adjacent” content as well. The 18Forty Podcast, which I host, is one such gateway. It is a forum for exploring Jewish thoughts and ideas in a style the non-Orthodox world can listen in on. Sefaria is an incredible gateway for Jewish learning. Tablet Magazine is yet another fantastic gateway for drawing Jews into Jewish life. And, of course, social media is a tremendous platform for strengthening Jewish identity.

JA: Do you have any more suggestions for what the Orthodox community should be doing at this time?

RDB: Number one, we need to reacquaint ourselves with the depth, beauty and mystery of Jewish history. The way to connect to the entirety of the Jewish people is to understand our story, the miraculous story of the rise and growth of Orthodoxy in America. We should begin telling that story more fully and powerfully so people can understand the communities to which they belong. The younger generation doesn’t seem to know Jewish history at all. They’re ignorant of where they are. They look around and ask, “What are you talking about? What’s water?”

Learn the history of Yiddishkeit so you can appreciate your own Yiddishkeit

Number two, we need to be more futureoriented. Instead of trying to reproduce the experience our grandparents had and focus on recreating the past, we need to focus on visualizing the future. We need to be more thoughtful, more deliberate and more intentional about what the future of the Jewish community is going to look like in the next hundred years.

We should be leading the way. We have the knowledge. We have the experience. We should be assuming responsibility, meeting the moment, and thinking and planning for the future of all Jews.

Revisiting the Attainability of Greatness

By Moishe Bane

How does Torah Judaism understand personal greatness, and do we fail to mentor our children in its pursuit?

The Orthodox community’s social and educational structures are highly effective in producing solid communal members. Our students most often complete their schooling as educated, skilled and committed young adults. But are they encouraged and empowered to pursue greatness? Moreover, do we as adults include achieving greatness as a life goal?

Perhaps a threshold impediment to aspirations of greatness is that we do not know what greatness means for people like us, or what it would look like. Similarly, we are uncertain whether greatness emerges spontaneously or requires strategic planning and nurturing. Or perhaps we downplay the

pursuit of greatness because it seems unattainable to regular folks like us and our progeny.

Since October 7, 2023, we have rediscovered what greatness looks like. We have learned that the capacity for achieving personal greatness, however lofty and evasive, remains innately embedded within each individual Jew and can be achieved by unassuming individuals who had not previously considered it an aspiration. We are now compelled to reexamine our relationship with personal greatness, and to consider whether we have been selling our children and ourselves short by abandoning its pursuit.

No need to choose between greatness and normalcy

Our attitude toward greatness may be primarily framed by the understanding that individual greatness means being spectacularly superior to others. In fact, that is society’s conventional perception. I observed this decades ago when as a chevrah of young parents we shared with each other our apprehensions and aspirations in raising children. While there were numerous differences among us, we were uniform in emulating the nature of Chanah’s prayer for a child (Berachot 31b), hoping for children who are smart but not too smart, talented but not prodigies. We feared that a genius or whiz kid would be too challenging to raise, be at heightened risk of being socially awkward, and be more likely to

have a less joyful life. It would be nice for our child to be at the top of the class, but not by too much.

Consequently, we encouraged our children to excel but to also be wellrounded. We urged them to be studious yet lighthearted, focused and diligent yet easygoing. We scorned parents who sacrificed their youngsters’ childhood in the pursuit of a spot on an Olympic team or a chess championship or child-acting stardom.

We certainly wanted our children to be devout, pious and learned, as well as ambitious and confident. But while we hoped they would stand out a bit, we avoided imposing the stress and pressure that accompanies the pursuit of overly superior achievement. We deemed being really, really good as the sensible goal, and considered our children’s happiness and stability as a more worthy objective than exceptionalism. We had no interest in greatness, as we understood it to mean.

But suddenly, unexpectedly and tragically, our perception of what constitutes greatness has been upended. We learn of Jews who were not unlike their peers, and who, like us, did not plan for or anticipate personal grandeur. And yet, they epitomize the Jewish version of greatness. We now see what greatness can look like.

Moishe Bane, president emeritus of the OU, serves as a contributing editor of Jewish Action.

Choose from an array of audio or video series and live shiurim: daily, weekly, monthly or chagim.

Maximize your impact and connect with rebbetzins, lay leaders, kallah teachers, mikvah attendants, kiruv and chinuch professionals.

Strengthen your community while joining our global community.

Young reservists, and many not-soyoung, repeatedly dash to protect our homeland and our people, even if not called to duty; even severely injured chayalim clamor to return to their units.

The post–October 7 emergence of greatness

From October 7, 2023 and on, greatness has been realized by many extraordinary yet seemingly otherwise normal Jews. Rather than being inspired by prominent leaders or high-profile figures, we have been awed and inspired by uncelebrated individuals, Jews who previously were no different than you and me. Their greatness is not measured in contrast to others but is rather achieved by transcending what had been thought to be their own capacity.

Greatness has emerged from the theater of war, embodied in the passion, devotion, resilience and bravery of our soldiers. Young reservists, and many not-so-young, repeatedly dash to protect our homeland and our people, even if not called to duty; even severely injured chayalim clamor to return to their units.

And greatness in piety and Torah study in the midst of combat has been attained by unassuming and inconspicuous soldiers seizing spare moments of respite to don tefillin, to perform other religious rituals, and even to engage in moments of intense and exalted study of Daf Yomi

and other Torah sources. Perhaps they are the genuine descendants of the great Hillel, who likewise grasped access to nuggets of Torah while suffering bitter surrounding elements. From the sacred moments of Torah study of these soldiers likely emerge holy letters of the aleph-beis that ascend from the terrible battlefield to the loftiest spheres of Heaven, blending on high with the holy letters of Torah generated by the righteous Torah scholars of prior generations.

Greatness can be found in parents and spouses bearing with courageous idealism the interminable, anxiety-ridden absences of their most precious loved ones. And for some parents, greatness is in their hallowed acquiescence of agonizing sacrifice. Though they earlier could not have fathomed their degree of inner strength, these devout heroes reflect a Jewish parent’s unearthly capacity to embrace an inseverable attachment to a beloved while concurrently maintaining an unwavering acceptance of G-d’s excruciating decrees.

And greatness is manifested by understated and typically unrecognized Jews exhibiting extraordinary compassion, magnanimity and adoration to other Jews, many of whom they had never before met and with whom they have little in common other than the bond of a shared history and a common destiny.

We do not know the names or faces of most of these great individuals, and we barely know their stories. But we do know that, like us, they were not raised with greatness as their objective. They were simply aspiring to be good Jews and good people. And yet prospective greatness was buried within their hearts and souls.

When is one great?

One yom tov many years ago, while on a walk with the late philanthropist Mr. Zev Wolfson, a”h, I asked him whom he had encountered who was truly great. I was confident that as perhaps the most intriguing Jewish visionary of his generation, Mr. Wolfson had surely interacted with authentic greatness. He abruptly halted our stroll, turned to me and asked, “What makes someone great?”

Feebly attempting to anticipate the response he was seeking, I mumbled, “People are great when they reach their full potential.” Mr. Wolfson scoffed at my reply, chastising me that realizing our potential is what we are expected to do. And doing what you are expected to do does not deem you great.

If so, I asked, what then makes a person great? Mr. Wolfson responded, “A man is great when he surpasses his potential.”

In subsequent days and weeks, I struggled with his response. How can an individual possibly transcend his potential? After all, aren’t a person’s most significant achievements, however grand, the true measure of one’s potential?

Perhaps Mr. Wolfson’s formula is founded on the Torah understanding of personal greatness. Greatness is not measured in comparison to others, but rather in comparison to ourselves. We are limited by our perceptible potential only if we fail to recognize that all we accomplish is solely by Hashem’s grace and will. Our life mission is to transcend those limitations that are personal to us, rather than measuring ourselves in comparison to the achievements of others. In fact, if we fully acknowledge that everything we undertake is dependent upon G-d’s boundless capacity, even objectives beyond our innate capacity are achievable.

The Talmud (Bava Basra 10b) teaches that the World to Come is upside down, topsy-turvy. Individuals who are exalted in our physical world are diminished in the World to Come, and those marginalized in this world are acclaimed. What does this mean? Is it possible that those whom we observe as saintly are actually deserving of degradation in the World to Come, while those whom we see as scoundrels actually merit commendation?

Rabbi Moshe Feinstein, zt”l, explained that the Sages are teaching us that in this world we are confined to viewing others by their observable actions, piety and scholarship without access to the innate nature of their spiritual, intellectual and physical capacities, and without regard to the privilege or challenge of their circumstances. Their stature is thus not measured against their personal potential but is determined only in comparison to others.

By contrast, in the Olam Ha’emes, the World of Truth, stature will be determined by measuring individuals’ accomplishments and growth in their truest context. Many whom we perceive as lowly may have risen above their earthly capabilities and challenges to a far greater degree than those boasting celebrated achievements. In Judaism, authentic greatness is measured only within one’s own capacity and circumstances.

We confuse greatness with renown

Our flawed understanding of greatness might be illustrated if we were to ask ourselves to create a list of great people. If asked for secular individuals who have achieved greatness, we would likely enumerate world-famous scholars, performers, statesmen or scientists. If asked for great Jews, we would include illustrious historical figures, famed tzaddikim and other prominent names in Jewish tradition. Though these individuals may actually be great under any measurement, since we are incapable of knowing their innermost personal capabilities and challenges, by default we assign greatness based solely on public observations and accolades. We thereby confuse greatness with renown.

Given that we ourselves neither seek renown nor perceive ourselves to be deserving of it, our misconception of greatness dissuades us from its pursuit. Since October 7, however, we have been reminded that Jewish greatness is not about celebrity or reputation, and it is not restricted to those who are innately or circumstantially exceptional. Jewish greatness is private and personal. It is achievable in any circumstance in which we are placed by Hashem. Greatness is accessible to each of us.

Of course, we beseech the Almighty to be spared being thrust into trying circumstances or tragedy in which to achieve greatness. We pray for opportunities to pursue Jewish greatness through vigorously and privately cultivating our religious selves, our middos (traits), our talents and, when necessary, overcoming personal demons. In certain regards, greatness is even more dazzling when attained in times of tranquility.

A unique opportunity for us to seize greatness

At the funeral of the famed Bnei Brak Torah leader Rav Aharon Yehuda Leib Shteinman, zt”l, a maspid (eulogizer) urged the attendees to take advantage of the maxim that upon the passing of an extraordinary Jew, the deceased’s unique characteristics and achievements float in the atmosphere and are temporarily available to be snagged by those eager to emulate them.

Greatness has emerged from the theater of war, embodied in the passion, devotion, resilience and bravery of our soldiers.

Over the past few months, our nation has suffered the loss of many truly extraordinary Jews at the hands of our contemptible enemies. The passion, devotion, resilience and bravery of these souls float in the metaphysical atmosphere, available to us all to be embraced. Many of the fallen also left a legacy of extraordinary spiritual piety and an unparalleled love of Hashem and of the Jewish people. They have left us their greatness. We now have the opportunity, if not the obligation, to capture this greatness and infuse it within ourselves and our children.

Happy Chanukah

Chanukah,

LOOK A LITTLE HARDER

By Rabbi Ezra Sarna

Ilike finding heroes.

By hero, I am not referring to the honorees at annual dinners.

You may not even find their names in the long list of thank-yous in the weekly Shabbos bulletin. These men and women don’t necessarily hold titles of distinction in the community, yet they are the volunteers that contribute so much to our communities in their quiet, humble and devoted ways.

I always knew these heroes existed, but tended to take them for granted. It was only when I traveled to a small Canadian Jewish community to interview for a rabbanus position that a lightbulb went off in my head. As a firm believer that a rabbi should interview a community simultaneous to being

interviewed himself, I wasted no time asking probing questions about the history, vision and current state of the warm and polite congregation.

Shabbos lunch was hosted by an ER doctor and his wife who are members of the shul. As the other lunch guests left after the meal, I excused myself from the company of the hosts as well. Having delivered four community shiurim and with many meet-and-greet handshakes behind me, I needed to put my head down on the table for a quick rest before my afternoon women’s shiur. The doctor stood in the doorway, with one hand on the doorknob, and asked me if I needed anything else. A sleepy realization dawned on me as I pieced together the last twelve hours.

“You’re carrying this whole community,” I told him. “You spend hours in private conversation with the young members of the shul, sensitizing them to the needs and perspectives of the older members, and vice versa. You’re the one quietly fundraising for the mikvah and the shul programs. You’re the one whispering to the board, suggesting they search for a rabbi who’s more Torah focused and less politics focused. You even make sure the kiddush is cleaned up when the cleaning crew doesn’t show up! It seems most people in the community don’t even realize it. You see a need and you help, without any recognition.”

He smiled, revealing his humility even while taking obvious pride in his endless klal work. “Sleep well, Rabbi,” he said, closing the door behind him.

Through my years of community rabbanus and school administration, and in my current role as OU director

of Torah and Halacha Initiatives, I have met hundreds of such heroes. They may come in many different shapes and sizes, but they all have one thing in common: that same pure fire of humble devotion to the community.

“You are involved in the chevra kadisha?” a coworker once asked me rhetorically. “When I was growing up,” he shared, “my mother would often leave in the evening for a few hours, even on busy Thursday nights, to do a taharah for a community member or stranger. We didn’t resent it. We felt part of it, like our family was doing the taharah. She’s been doing taharos for almost thirty years. I once asked her if she gets thanked for her chevra kadisha work. She smiled and told me that most people in the community don’t know that she’s a member of the chevra kadisha.”

In 2019, when I was a school principal, my staff prepared for the first Shabbaton of the school year. We sent out an informational email to the parent body, which naturally included a note about the trip fee that would be required for each student to attend. Within minutes, I received the following email reply: “Rabbi, if you sense a family can’t afford it, just put it on my card. Tell them there was an anonymous grant and not to worry about it.”

A few months into my rabbanus, while preparing a derashah in my office one Friday afternoon, I noticed one of the older geirim in the shul walking down the hallway lugging two very large plastic bottles. I stepped out of my office and asked, “What do you have there? Need some help?”

Rabbi Ezra Sarna is director of Torah and Halacha Initiatives at the OU.

PUBLISH YOUR SEFER WITH TZUF !

Do you have a Sefer to publish? Don’t know where to start?

Tzuf Publications, Israel’s premier publishing house for Sifrei Kodesh, now in Lakewood! Turn your Sefer into a masterpiece. At Tzuf, you’ll receive professional, customized service every step of the way.

“I’m fine,” he replied. “Just some chemicals.”

I lifted an eyebrow in confusion. He chuckled. “You think the chlorine levels in the mikvah monitor themselves?”

Would it shock you if I confess that I had never thought about it until that moment?

Did you know that there are men and women who make shidduch reference calls for the orphans of their community?

I’ve been called and asked if I would be willing to have an extra guest for a Shabbos meal. Do you know who called

me? A woman who tries her best to make sure everyone has a meal to join on Shabbos.

And there are so many more unsung heroes.

Who walks each week, regardless of rain or heat and sometimes even through densely wooded areas, to make sure the eruv is up so that you can carry on Shabbos?

Who shops for the specialty items for the shul kiddush you enjoy every week?

Who privately fundraises for boys and girls to attend yeshivah and seminary when the families can’t afford it?

Who are the peacemakers who will spend hours on the phone with various community members and organizational leaders to avoid machlokes and division?

Shall I go on?

Are you inspired by them?

I know I am.

Every day.

When you’re sitting in shul, look a little harder. Think about the devotion exemplified in the hero sitting just one row over. Or maybe you are, in fact, a hero yourself.

WHAT’S THE TRUTH ABOUT. . .

RELOCATING A SEFER TORAH?

By Rabbi Dr. Ari Z. Zivotofsky

MISCONCEPTION : In order to temporarily relocate a sefer Torah, such as to a shivah house, halachah requires that it be read three times in its new location.

FACT : Early sources were relatively strict about not bringing a Torah to people, but rather that people should go to the Torah. Later authorities introduced various conditions to allow temporarily relocating the Torah, the most important being that it be kept in a “dignified place,” i.e., an aron kodesh. 1 The three-reading rule is mentioned in some late sources, but in practice is often not followed. In general, temporarily relocating a Torah is frowned upon, with the guiding principle being the need for a high degree of kavod haTorah.

Background: Because of the extreme honor due a Torah scroll, it should not be willy-nilly temporarily relocated.2 But what about for a mitzvah? Does it matter if the person cannot “go to” the Torah because of a halachic impediment, such as aveilut, or if he physically cannot go, such as a sick person or a prisoner? And what about taking a Torah along on vacation, or bringing a Torah to a Covid-19 street minyan or to a group of Israeli soldiers in the field?3

The earliest source that discusses bringing a Torah to be read elsewhere is the Mishnah (Yoma 7:1 [68b]; Sotah 7:7 [40b]) describing bringing the Torah to the Kohen Gadol on Yom Kippur for his public reading in the Beit Hamikdash and (Sotah 7:8 [41a])

Rabbi Dr. Ari Z. Zivotofsky is a professor of neuroscience at Bar-Ilan University in Israel.

to the king for the once-every-sevenyears Hakhel reading. The Yerushalmi (Yoma 7:1; Sotah 7:6) observes that in general an individual should go to the Torah to read it, rather than it being brought to the individual, but because the Kohen Gadol is an important person,4 it honors the Torah to be brought to him. The message is clear: In general, a Torah is not brought to a different location to enable its reading, as that would be disrespectful to the Torah (Mishnah Berurah 135:47), but there seems to be room for exceptions.5

Although the Rambam, Rif and Tur do not discuss the issue (which is found in the Yerushalmi but not in the Bavli), both the Beit Yosef (Rabbi Yosef Karo, author of both the Beit Yosef on the Tur and of the Shulchan Aruch; d. 1575) and Darkei Moshe (Rabbi Moshe Isserlis, “the Rema,” author of Darkei Moshe on the Tur and of the Mapah on Shulchan Aruch; d. 1572) do. The Beit Yosef (OC 135,

s.v. katav haMordechai) quotes only one source—the thirteenth-century Mordechai, who, citing Maharam MiRotenburg, prohibits bringing a Torah to imprisoned Jews even on Rosh Hashanah or Yom Kippur. Darkei Moshe (OC :135:10) responds by citing many lenient authorities. Among them is the fourteenth-century Hagahot Asheri, who quotes the thirteenthcentury Ohr Zarua permitting assembling a minyan for an unwell locally important person and bringing a Torah to his house to read. He also cites the sixteenth-century Maharam Padua that the hesitation in relocating a Torah is only if it is moved at the time of reading; if it is brought a day or two earlier and respectably housed in an aron kodesh, it is not a problem.

The Shulchan Aruch and Rema rule in line with their respective comments on the Tur. The Shulchan Aruch (OC:135:14; 584:3) forbids the bringing of a Torah to prisoners (or a sick person—MB 135:46) even on the Yamim Noraim, while the Rema (ibid.) permits it for an important person or if brought several days in advance (with a designated place—Magen Avraham 135:22).

The Chafetz Chaim (Biur Halachah 135: s.v. ein mevi’in) expressed surprise at the ruling of the Shulchan Aruch and maintains that for a minyan or Parashat Zachor, even the Shulchan Aruch would agree that it is permitted (MB 135:46, 47; cf. Kaf HaChaim OC 135:73 who disagrees).

The Rema’s main condition is that the Torah have a designated place,6

and he suggests it be there a day or two in advance. The Mishnah Berurah (135:49) says the key is that it be placed in an honorable location from which it is removed and returned, such that it does not appear that it was brought merely to be read, but rather that it is in a new “permanent” location, even if it was placed there the same day. The Chayei Adam (31:15) gives essentially the same rules as the Mishnah Berurah

The Prishah (CM 1:3) explains that temporarily but respectfully moving the Torah to where it will be read was standard practice in the Talmudic period. He goes on to say that the synagogue was often located in the field outside of the city, and for the Torah’s protection they would not leave it there. Rather, when needed, the Torah was taken from its aron in the city, placed in an aron in the shul in the field (or transported in its permanent, portable aron),7 and after davening, returned to its permanent location in the city.8

So where did the notion of three readings come from? After first clarifying his understanding of the Rema, Rabbi Yechiel Michel HaLevi Epstein (d. 1908; Aruch HaShulchan, OC:135:30–32) then says that the custom is to make sure to read it three times in its new location, as then it is no longer viewed as a “temporary” move.9 There does not seem to be any allusion to the three-reading requirement in any earlier source, this apparently being the earliest written attestation to a custom that may have existed earlier.

Rabbi Shabtai Lifshitz (d. 1929; Sha’arei Rachamim commentary to Sha’arei Ephraim by Rabbi Ephraim Zalman Margulies, d. 1828; 9:22) says that the common notion that a Torah cannot be moved unless it will be read three times is an error, as it has no source. For a lengthy elaboration he directs the reader to his son Avraham’s sefer, Yalkut Avraham. Rabbi Moshe Sternbuch (Teshuvot VeHanhagot 1:694) says that other than the Aruch HaShulchan, he knows of no source for this idea. Similarly, Emet L’Yaakov (OC:135, n. 175) records in the name

of Rabbi Yaakov Kamenetsky that the “requirement” to read from the Torah three times has no halachic basis and therefore there is no need to be careful about it.

In 1923, Rabbi Moshe Feinstein permitted a sefer Torah to be brought to an aufruf (Iggerot Moshe OC:1:34) to enable all the family members to get aliyot. He does not mention the need for three readings. Almost sixty years later, when discussing bringing a Torah to a shivah house (Iggerot Moshe YD:4:61:13), Rav Moshe says the merit for the deceased to have a minyan in the house is a reason a Torah may be brought. There he mentions the three readings, observes that the basic halachah is like the Mishnah Berurah permitting a Torah to be brought even if it will not be read three times, but suggests that because such is the custom, one should strive to have three readings and even suggests reading the Torah at Shabbat Minchah10 or after the conclusion of the shivah. Rabbi Shlomo Zalman Auerbach (Halichot Shlomo, Tefillah, 12:38) prohibits temporarily relocating a Torah unless there is an aron in the new location to house the Torah, and he says there is no basis for the three-reading rule. His father, Rabbi Chaim Yehudah Leib Auerbach (ibid., n. 114), wrote at length about the subject and concluded that 1. if there is a respectable place to put the Torah or if it is being brought for an important person, it can be brought even for one reading, 2. if the location is degrading, such as a jail, even three readings will not help, and 3. in other circumstances, three readings may permit bringing it even though the three-reading rule has no reliable source.

There is a great deal of literature about bringing a Torah to a mourner’s house. The Shulchan Aruch (YD 344:18) says that Torah reading on Shabbat, Monday and Thursday were not done in the mourner’s house, indicating that a Torah was not brought there. Rabbi Yaakov Emden (Mor U’Ktzia 135) decries the fact that in his community a Torah was brought to a shivah house, both because a

Torah should not be relocated and because it cannot be afforded the proper respect with little children present. He thinks the custom should be immediately stopped. So too, the Kaf HaChaim (OC 135:75) says it is wrong to bring a Torah to the house of the avel, but rather after the davening everyone should go to the shul to read the Torah. Rabbi Yisroel Pesach Feinhandler (d. 2011; Avnei Yashfeh OC 22) expresses concern about little children being present adding that children might soil themselves. Therefore he states that if people really want to bring the Torah to the shivah house they should bring it shortly before davening, place it in an aron and return it immediately after davening. He says he does not know of any source for a three-reading requirement and adds that that would certainly not permit bringing the Torah without an aron

Despite these hesitations, the widespread custom today is that a Torah is brought to a shivah house.

Rabbi Moshe Sternbuch (Teshuvot VeHanhagot 1:694) says that if there is no portable aron, it is still permitted to bring the Torah just for the reading and then return it to the shul, rather than leave it in the shivah house in a less-than-dignified manner. Rabbi Ovadia Yosef (Yabia Omer 9:OC:15) says that as long as there is an aron, there is no problem.

While the most common reason for temporarily relocating a Torah is for use at a shivah house, other circumstances also lead to such questions.

Rabbi Yosef Molcho (d. 1768; Shulchan Gavoha 584:6) records that when city people fled to villages in times of plagues, in Adrianople (now Edirne, Turkey) the custom was to bring a Torah with them, while in Salonika (today Thessaloniki, Greece) they followed the simple understanding of the Shulchan Aruch and even if they were in “exile” for a long time, they did not bring a Torah.

Rabbi David Avraham Schpektor (d. 2013), in a thin pamphlet (Herodian Responsa, 11–15), discusses transporting a Torah from the town of

Nokdim for a monthly Rosh Chodesh davening in the ancient Herodian synagogue. He permitted it because restoring an ancient synagogue honors the Torah and because a portable aron was constructed specifically for this purpose.

European Jewish communities had a custom that when a king visited, they would bring out a Torah as a sign of respect. Pitchei Teshuvah (YD:282:1) cites a teshuvah that justifies this instance of moving a Torah.

Rabbi Eliezer Waldenberg (Tzitz Eliezer 11:16) was critical of those who daven at the Kotel in the outside section and, when it comes time to read the Torah, one person goes to the inner area and brings a Torah to the minyan. He suggests that either the Torah be brought to the minyan, preferably with the aron, before they begin davening, or that at the time of leining, the entire minyan go to the Torah and either read it there or escort the Torah to the place where it will be read.

Rabbi Shlomo Goren (Meishiv Milchamah 2:124) deals with bringing a Torah to a group of soldiers who are in the field for training for several days. He permits it if there is a portable aron and a place designated for davening. He also raises the additional factor that in a Jewish military camp, even not in times of war, G-d’s presence should be present in the camp and this is accomplished by having an aron with a Torah. Rabbi Nachum Rabinovitch (Melumdei Milchamah 1:25) adds that it is an honor for the Torah to be brought to soldiers who are bnei Torah and guarding our Land, parallel to the Aron with the Luchot accompanying the Jewish army.

Rabbi Yaakov Ariel (B’Ohalah shel Torah 2:6) was asked about taking a Torah in a car when going on vacation. He elegantly distinguishes between the problematic “bringing a Torah to people” versus “taking the Torah with people.” He thinks the latter is permitted and possibly praiseworthy, as a Jewish king is instructed to do.

In summary, from the Talmud on, there is a concern that bringing a Torah from its usual place infringes on the respect due the Torah. Over the years, various leniencies have evolved to permit bringing a Torah to people who pine to read and honor it. The requirement for three readings is a late development with little early support and is not usually taken into consideration. Rather, the primary concern in determining if and how to relocate a Torah is whether the move entails proper honor for the Torah, usually requiring an aron kodesh

Notes

1. The Gemara (Shabbat 32a) views referring to an “aron kodesh” as simply “ aron” as a grave sin. However, the Magen Avraham (OC:154:14), as explained by the Yad Ephraim, says that if in context it is clear that it refers to an aron kodesh, it is acceptable, and thus in this article the word “aron” will be used.

2. Cf. Maharsham (Da’at Torah OC 135:14) how this resolves the question of why there was no ban on reading the Torah (versus a megillah) on Shabbat.

3. At the conclusion of the Yom Kippur service in the Beit Hamikdash, each individual would “show off” his personal sefer Torah (Yoma 70a; Sotah 41a). Based on this, posekim differentiate between a communal Torah that reposes in and is read in the shul and a private Torah, which may be brought from place to place (Tzitz Eliezer 18:6). A Torah written specifically as a traveling Torah may be used as such (Kaf HaChaim OC:135:78).

4. The Gra (OC 135) and Mishnah Berurah (135:50; cf. Sha’ar Hatziyun 135:50 and Biur Halachah 135: s.v. v’im hu) clarify that an “important person” in this context refers to one who is great in Torah, as opposed to a communal leader or a wealthy or influential person.

5. See Rabbi Yosef Kapach (commentary to Rambam, Hilchot Tefillah, chap. 12, n. 61) for a different understanding of the Yerushalmi, and Tzitz Eliezer 18:6 for a rejection of Rabbi Kapach’s theory.

6. Mentioned also by Rabbi Ephraim Zalman Margulies in his influential work on Torah reading, Sha’arei Ephraim (9:43). See Shulchan Aruch, YD 282:1.

7. See Ta’anit 2:1; Megillah 3:1; Sotah 39b, Rashi s.v. l’hafshit

8. This is likely similar to what is being described in Eruvin 86b and Sukkah 16b. The incident in Eruvin 91a was

different, as it was a time of danger. By Rambam’s time, things had changed, and in describing building a synagogue (Hilchot Tefillah 11:2) he mentions an aron in which to store the Torah scrolls. Cf. ibid., 12:24, that sometimes they did store the Torah elsewhere.

9. In a concluding statement, the Aruch HaShulchan berates those who take a Torah from the shul on Rosh Hashanah, Yom Kippur and Simchat Torah to read in a “private” minyan. He says that they do this so they can all get an aliyah, but they are in reality sinning by not taking into consideration the honor due the Torah. So too, Mishnah Berurah (135:48) berates these people; the only justification he finds is if they sell the aliyot, thus raising funds for the shul and for tzedakah

While this might have been viewed as a chumrah that leads to a kulah, because having a minyan in a mourner’s house on Shabbat when he may attend synagogue can be viewed as public mourning on Shabbat, Rav Moshe ruled otherwise.

AMBASSADOR

$1,000,000 +

Drs. Felix and Miriam Glaubach

Becky and Avi Katz

The Kohelet Foundation

David and Debra Magerman

The Marcus Foundation Inc.

In Memory of Anne Samson A"H

GUARDIAN

$100,000 - $999,999

In Memory of Aharon Ben Yaakov Shalom and Leah Bas Yitzhak

Sue and Bill Auerbach

Mark (Moishe) and Joanne Bane

Neil and Sherry Cohen

Crain-Maling Foundation: Www.Crainmaling.Org

Dahan Family Philanthropies

Robert and Michelle Diener

Gershon and Aviva Distenfeld

Mitchell and Annette Eichen

Eisenreich Family Foundation

Mr. and Mrs. Jack Feintuch

Foundation For Jewish Day Schools, Greater Philadelphia

George and Martha Rich Foundation

Elliot P. and Deborah Gibber

Alan and Barbara Gindi

Dailygiving.Org

Amir and Stacey Goldman

Josph and Ellen Goldstein

The Gustave and Carol Jacobs Center For Kashrut Education

Avraham and Rebecca Katz

Mordecai Z"L and Monique Katz

Dr. Shmuel and Evelyn Katz

J Kohn Family

The Jewish Federation of Greater Los Angeles

The Jewish Federation of Metropolitan

Chicago

Michael and Andrea Leven

Vivian and David Luchins

Mayberg Foundation

Mosaic United

Yehuda and Anne Neuberger

Raphael and Rivka Egozi Nissel

Olami Launch

Aaron and Ahuva Orlofsky

Ralla Klepak Foundation For Education

In The Performing Arts

Eric and Gale A"H Rothner

Jonathan and Lisa Schechter

Joe and Jessica Schwartz

Genie and Steve Savitsky

Mark and Barbara Silber

Moris and Lillian Tabacinic

Uja-Federation of New York

FOUNDER

$50,000 - $99,999

Raanan and Nicole Agus

Lewis and Lauri Barbanel

Saby and Rosi Behar

Phil and Connie Beinhaker

Daniel and Razie Benedict

Hillel and Charlotte A"H Brachfeld

The Cayre Family

Chicago Chesed Fund

Combined Jewish Philanthropies

Cross River Bank

The Conduit Foundation

Grant and Jennifer Dinner

Brett and Alana Fine

Menashe and Jamie Frank

Ezra and Racheli Friedberg

Bentzion Friedman

The George Weinberger Music Program

Joseph Goldstein

Dr. Ephraim and Rita Greenfield

Shaul and Tammy Greenwald

Moshe and Tira Gubin

Klein, Jaffa, and Halpern Families

The Hidden Sparks Fund

Lior and Janet Hod

Ed and Robyn Hoffman/Hoffman Catering

Tzippy (Faye) Holand, Bridge of Love Foundation

Dr. Allan and Sandy Jacob

Chavi and Paul Jacobs

Jewish Federation of Northern New Jersey

Howard and Debbie Jonas

Natalie and Davidi Jonas

Aaron and Tobi Keller

Edward and Inna Kholodenko

Marc Levine

Daniel and Elana Lowy

Iris and Shalom Maidenbaum

Chuck and Allegra Mamiye

Azi and Rachel Mandel

Ezra and Lauren Merkin

David Messer

Eitan and Debra Milgram

Gabriel and Beth Nechamkin

Gil and Shani Orbach

Daniel and Leyla Posner

Ian and Carol Ratner

David and Adeena Rosen

Henry and Vivian Rosenberg

Members of the OU Benefactor Circle lead through philanthropy. We thank them all—those whose names appear as well as those choosing to remain anonymous—for their commitment.

To learn more about the OU Benefactor Circle or to become a member, please call Paul Kaplan at 212-613-8258 or email kaplanp@ou.org.

* Donors are recognized based on date of donation payment

Yossi and Simi Rosengarten

Moshe and Helen Sassover

Scott and Sharon Seligsohn

Michael Shabsels

The Shamah Family

The Staenberg Family Foundation

Michael and Carol Staenberg

Daniel and Ellie Stone

Alan A"H and Ina Taffet

Daniel and Zahavah Uretsky

Jeffrey and Sharona Weinberg

Michael and Arianne Weinberger

The Weiss Family, Cleveland, Ohio

Mr. Jerry and Mrs. Sara Wolasky

Meredith and Kenny Yager

Ben Zussman

David and Becky Zwillinger

BUILDER

$25,000 - $49,999

Emanuel and Helen Adler

Ari and Rebecca Adlerstein

Scott and Sally Alpert

Lior and Drora Arussy

David and Natalie Batalion

Saby and Rosi A"H Behar

Brian and Dafna Berman

Judi and Jason Berman

The Charles Crane Family Foundation

Vivian and Daniel Chill

Ari and Erika Cohen

Franki Cohen

Contra Costa Jewish Community Center

Shimon and Chaya Eckstein

Jeffrey and Shira Eisenberg

Robert Eisenberg

Yisroel Epstein

Bari and Daniel Erber

Ariela and Benito Esquenazi In Honor of The Mendel Balk Yachad

Community Center

Kenneth Fink

Morris Finkelstein

Murray and Frimmit Forman

Sheara Fredman

Gerald and Miriam Friedkin

Hershey Friedman

Howard Tzvi and Chaya Friedman

Raymond and Elizabeth Gindi

Harvey Greenstein

Robyn and Shukie Grossman

The Gryfe Family

Estate of Allen Habelson

James and Amy A"H Haber

Jack Haddad

Robert and Debra Hartman

J. Samuel Harwit and Manya Harwit-Aviv Charitable Trust

The Helen and Irving Spatz Foundation

Steven Heller

Lance and Rivkie Hirt

Adam and Sarah Hofstetter

David and Lorraine Hoppenstein Charitable

Fund of The Dallas Jewish Community Foundation

Alissa and Shimmie Horn

Michael and Batya Jacob

Jewish Federation of Greater Atlanta

Jewish Federation of St. Louis

Chaim and Suri Kahn

Michael and Judy Kaiser

Benyamin and Esti Kaminetzky

George and Denise Karasick

Rabbi Mark and Linda Karasick

Jack Albert Kassin

Michael and Elissa Katz

Nancy I. Klein

Jonathan and Mindy Kolatch

Dana and Jeffrey Korbman

Laizer and Jessica Kornwasser

David and Sarena Koschitzky

Lawrence and Evelyn Kraut

Albert Laboz

Bruce and Cheryl Leon

Howard and Elayne Levkowitz

Shlomo and Racheli Lobell

M.B. Glassman Foundation

Lynn and Joel Mael

Malcmacher & Meystel Families

Elliott and Chavi Mandelbaum

Judy and Dr. Menachem Marcus

Mrs. Fegi Mauer

Scott and Grace Offen

The Oved Family

Allen and Miriam Pfeiffer

Drs. Nathan and Rachel Rabinovitch

Jason and Shani Reitberger

Alexander and Rachel Rindner

Steven and Ruthy Rosenberg

Karen and Shawn Rosenthal

Rabbi Daniel and Elisheva Rubenstein

Samis Foundation

Robert and Tamar Scharf

Dr. Josef Schenker

Schiff Family Foundation

Jonathan and Brigitte Schoen

Elchonon Schwartz

Nathan and Louise Schwartz Tzedaka Fund

Richard and Nathanne A"H Senturia

Yaakov and Sari Sheinfeld

Bonny Silver and Family

Meyer and Baila Silverberg

Stephanie and David Sokol

Alex and Sandy Solomon

Avi and Deena Stein

David and Randi Sultan

Adam and Tali Tantleff

Travel Insurance Israel

Marc and Mindy Utay

Alan Wecker

Ari and Caroline Weisman

Moshe and Dr. Ilana Wertenteil

Joyce and Jeremy Wertheimer

Howard and Batia Wiesenfeld

Esther and Jerry Williams

Zevy and Sara Wolman

Shimon and Hennie Wolf

Daniel and Alicia Yacoby

Drs. Yechiel and Suri Zagelbaum

Maurice and Michelle Zekaria

VISIONARY

$18,000 - $24,999

Daniel and Liora Adler

Art Harris Foundation

Isaac Ash

Ezra and Isaac Ashkenazi

Jeffrey Barr

Dr. Moshe and Bryndie Benarroch

Benjamin and Deena Berkowitz

David and Shira Berkowitz

Max and Elana Berlin

Dennis and Debra Berman

Andrea Bier

The Blackman Foundation

Steven and Daniele Bleier

Kalman and Esme Bookman

Denise Neiditch Breger

Drs. Benjamin and Esther Chouake

Tzippy and Daniel Cohen

Mark and Andrea Coronel

Haim and Barbara Dabah

Eli and Chasi Davis

Peter and Lori Deutsch

Alan and Judi Eisenman

David and Devora Elkouby

Linda and Michael Elman

Emt Action Fund

Alan and Rachel Engel

Jeffrey and Sharon Fishman

Joshua and Shifra Fox

Seth Gerszberg

Don and Marina Ghermezian

David and Sara Gibber

Arthur and Judith Goldberg

Josh Goldberg

Mark Goldberg

Jerry and Anne Gontownik

Nelson and Esther Goodman

David and Shira Greenberg

Dr. Alan and Miriam Greenspan

Adam and Claudine Grossman

Yoseph and Yael Gurevich

Marc and Ruki Halpert

David and Chaya Tova Hartman

The Herbert Smilowitz Foundation

James and Carol Herscot

Joan and Peter Hoffman

Joseph and Esther Jerome

David and Michal Kahan

Ranon and Stacy Kent

Jonathan Kier

Etta Brandman Klaristenfeld and Harry Klaristenfeld

David and Sara Knee

Marc and Rena Kwestel

Meyer and Sheila Last

Chaya and Lorne Lieberman

Dr. Ralph and Judith Marcus

Yigal and Caryn Marcus

Frances Mauer

Michael and Aliza Mermelstein

Daniel and Elana Miller

Martin and Elizabeth Nachimson

Avi and Debra Naider

Cal and Janine Nathan

Nefesh B'nefesh

Eli and Talia Neuberg

Steven and Martine Newman

Isabelle and David Novak

Henry and Mindy Orlinsky

Hillel and Amanda Parness

David and Elana Pollack

Jonathan and Anne Rand

Jona and Rachel Rechnitz

Georga and Pamela Rohr

Jonatan and Warren Rosenblum

Shawn and Karen Rosenthal

James and Loren Rosenzweig

Yechiel and Nomi Rotblat

David and Diana Safier

Lisa and Jonathan Schechter

Menachem and Rena Schnaidman

Ariane and Mark Schneider

Cyrus and Sarra Schwartz

Robert and Erica Schwartz

Sharon Shapiro

Jeremy and Dahlia Simons

Michael and Jessica Singer

Eddie Sitt

Barry and Joy Sklar

Mendy and Susan Sokol

Daniel and Diana Sragowicz

David J. and Ruth Tobin

Gary and Malke Torgow

Lizzy and Josh Trump

Kirill and Mary Vorobeychik

Samuel and Tami Wald

David and Gila Weinstein

George and Joni White

Jeffrey and Rita Wilder

Alan and Denise Wildes

Ben Porat Yosef

Atta and Henry Zieleniec

PARTNER

$10,000 - $17,999

Ora and Maury Aaron

Alisa Abecassis

Chanan Ben-Abraham

Jason and Lisa Ablin

Avi Adelsberg

The Adelsberg Family

Aeg Contracting, Inc.

Patrick and Leah Amar

Rabbi Shlomo and Miriam Appel

Hyman A"H and Ann Arbesfeld

Eric and Joyce Austein

Richard and Maureen Axelbaum

Ralph Azrak

Rachel and Avrumi Bak

Balanoff Foundation

Joseph Bamberger

Yale and Ann Baron

Jonathan and Beth Bennett

Mayer and Lisa Berg

Ashley and Lisa Berman

Mrs. Rochel Leah Bernstein

Stanley and Vivian Bernstein

Rabbi Julius and Dorothy Berman

Sion and Lorraine Betesh

Yehuda and Faige Bienstock

Tomer and Jennifer Bitton

George and Harriet Blank

Maxx and Liraz Blank

Harvey and Judy Blitz

Zev and Vivian Blumenfrucht

Michael and Darlene Bokor

Yossi and Dalia Brandman

Mr. Ludwig Bravmann

Joshua and Amy Buchsbayew

Julie and Pal Candau

Barry and Ellen Carron

Center For Jewish Philanthropy of Greater Phoenix (Cjp)

Vanessa and Raymond Chalme

Igor and Galina Chernizer

Donny and Freyda Cohen

Uriel and Yael Cohen

Eduardo Cojab

Erica and Michael Dachs

John Davison

Fred and Suzan Ehrman

Yechiel and Nechie Eisenstadt

Elkon Family Foundation

Leon Elmaleh

Saul and Toby Feldberg

Dr. Rina and Nahum Felman

Dr. Charles and Victoria Frankel

Natalio and Anne Fridman

Marc and Jemimia Frohlich

Nathan and Beth Fruchter

Paul and Diane Gallant

Andres and Karina Gelrud

Pierre and Reyna Gentin

Isaac Gindi

Brian and Gila Gluck

Yoel and Yehudit Goldberg

Joseph and Laura Goldman

Yonatan and Bellene Gontownik

Rabbi Daniel and Judith Goodman

Tomas and Aviva Gorny

Elisha and Daniella Graff

Rabbi Micah and Rivkie Greenland

Philip and Aviva Greenland

Seth and Orit Gribetz

Dr. Daniel and Tsipora Gurell

Abe and Ronit Gutnicki

Dr. Barry and Shira Hahn

Salomon Harari

The Harary Family

Rabbi Moshe and Mindi Hauer

Chaim and Ariella Herman

Ralph and Judy Herzka

Yisroel and Shira Hochberg

Howard Hoffman and Sons Foundation

Isaac H. Taylor Endowment Fund

Rabbi Moshe and Devora Isenberg

Joshua Jacobs

The Jacoby Family

Jewish Community Federation of Richmond

Jewish Federation and Family Services of Orange County

Jewish Federation In The Heart of New Jersey

Jewish Federation of Greater Houston

Jewish Federation and Family Services

Dr. Julie and Rabbi Dr. Josh Joseph

The Joseph Family Foundation

Ruthy and Aaron Jungreis

Jeffrey and Ellie Kagan

Dr. Bernard and Melanie Kaminetsky

Jewish Federation of Greater Kansas City

Morris and Sondra Kaplan

Ari and Shari Katz

Daniel J. and Caroline R. Katz

Yitzy and Gila Katz

Joseph and Esther Kazarnovsky

Karmela A"H and Jerry Klasner

Robin and Brad Klatt

Gary Klein

Michael and Julie Klein

Michael and Naomi Klein

Daniel and Eugenie Kohanchi

Avi and Ravital Korn

Martin and Sarah Kornblum

Scott and Aviva Krieger

Josh and Daniella Kuhl

Alain Kuppermann

Kim and Jonathan Kushner

Chana and Josh Kutin

Philip and Jennifer Landau

Ira and Sara Landsman

Aaron and Pamela Lauchheimer

Adam and Dania Lauer

Jonathan and Shari Lauer

Shloimy and Yita Lazar

Marshall and Doreen Lerner

Andrew and Leah Lewis

Daniel Lewis

Jason and Miriam Lieber

Richard and Leora Linhart

Elliot Littoff

Josef Loeffler

Jonathan Mael

Evan and Evi Makovsky

Shimon Margoline

Ateret Marjsn

Alex Markowitz

Yaacov and Esther Mashiach

Morris and Caroline Massel

Leonard and Margaret Matanky

Pinchas and Michal Mikhli

Stephen and Eve Milstein

Steve and Malka Miretzky

Noah and Suzanne Mishkin

Alexander and Yocheved Mitchell

Marcus and Aimee Mizrachi

Samuel and Debbie Moed

Elliot and Ava Moskowitz

Dr. Zev and Susan Munk

Elizabeth and Michael Muschel

Avishai and Elisheva Neuman

Norman Shulevitz Foundation

Bernice Novick

Ronie and Julie Ovadia

Aliza and Michael Pilevsky

Michael Pinewski

Israel and Nechama Polak

Moshe and Yaffa Popack

Yitzie and Nancy Pretter

Dr. Steven and Belinda Raikin

Chaim Zvi and Rikki Rajchenbach

Heschel and Adinah Raskas

Dr. Azriel and Ilana Rauzman

Barry and Harriet Ray

Jordan and Sara Reifer

Lawrence Rein

Eli Reinhard

Mel and Karen Rom

Debbie Rosalimsky

Malki and J. Philip Rosen

Marc and Alissa Rossman

Joshua and Lisa Rothstein

Eileen Ruby

Allen and Esther Samson

Judah and Bayla Samter

Stephen and Jessica Samuel

Tammi and Bennett Schachter

George and Irina Schaeffer

Joshusa A"H and Eileen Schein

Kenny and Naomi Schiff

Jay and Jeanie Schottenstein

Kenneth and Kimberly Schuckman

Daniel and Debbie Schwartz

Daniel and Rena Schwartz

Mauricio and Joan Schwarz

Heshe and Harriet Seif

Andrew and Stephani Serotta

David Shabsels

Asher and Cheryl Shafran

Joseph Shamie

Benjamin and Mor Shapiro

Moishe and Deena Siebzener

Brian Siegel

Helen and Gerald Silver

Ivan and Marilyn Soclof

Jared and Aliza Solomon

Michael and Fran Sosnowik

Jonathan and Anat Stein

Todd and Raphaela Stern

Tom Stern

Marvin and Debra Sternberg

Daniel and Mira Stokar

Adam and Stephanie Summers

Elliot and Laurie Sutton

Sam and Nancy Sutton

Marilyn Rabhan Swedarsky and Dr. Robert Swedarsky

Joshua and Beth Sydney

Morris and Rachel Tabush

Dr. and Mrs. Shimmy Tennenbaum

Ariel Tours

Tal Tours

Julius and Stephanie Trump

Daniel Turkel

Ira Waldbaum Family Foundation

Stephen and Miriam Wallach

The Joseph Leroy and Ann C. Warner Fund

Barbara and Howard Weiner

The Weininger Foundation Inc.

Adam and Jodi Weinstein

Dr. Yossi and Ilana Weinstein

Howard and Rita Weiss

Mark and Lois Weintrub

Shlomo and Blimy Weiss

Adam and Ava Weisstuch

Eli and Rhona Wilamowsky

Danielle and Jeffrey Wild

Daniel and Becky Wolf

Rabbi Shabsai and Debbie Wolfe

Kenneth and Meredith Yager

Jay and Deborah Zachter

Leon Zekaria

Alan and Lori Zekelman

Uri and Effie Zisblatt

Abraham Zonana

PATRON

$5,000 - $9,999

Leon and Sofia Achar

Adm/Roi

Dr. Lisa Aiken

Michael Aingorn

Andrew Albstein

Allen and Deanna Alevy

Michael and Debbie Alpert

Jeremy and Rebecca Amster

Yakira and Jeremy Apfel

Ariel Tours, Inc.

Chaya Aron

Jack and Regine Ashkenazie

Prof Michael and Dr Daphna Atar

Richard and Sharon Auman

David Azar

Bryan Badzin

Martin and Mayann Baumrind

Shael and Joan Bellows

Avraham Yi and Lillian Berger

Daniel Berger

Dr. and Mrs. Yitzhak and Ellen Berger

Betzalel Berkman

Ari Berkowitz

Barry and Erica Berkowitz

Benjamin and Elizabeth Berman

Yvonne Berman

Joel and Dina Bess

Carol Lasek and Howard Bienenfeld

Hadassah and Marvin Bienenfeld

Leora and Jules Bienenfeld

Moshe Blackstein

Yehuda and Roni Blinder

David and Trudi Bloom

Michael S. Bloom

Ben and Tamar Blumenthal

Doris Blumkin and Mark Blumkin Z”L

Ian and Sarah Boczko

Kenny Bodenstein

Sandy and Shoshana Bodzin

Enid and Harold H. Boxer Endowment

David and Renee Braha

Avrumi and Sarah Bram

Lee and Aliza Braverman

David and Nancy Brent

Michael and Allison Bromberg

Yishai and Bluma Broner

Kevin Brown

Yonah and Sonya Budd

Eddie Chabbott

Irwin and Roberta Chafetz

Larry and Rachel Chafetz

Daniel and Devorah Chefitz

Adam and Ilana Chill

Gobbie and Shayna Cohn

Yoni and Tzivia Cohen

Ethan and Amy Corey

Rick and Marcy Cornfeld

Yosef Dancykier

David and Marilyn Cutler

Eliana Dahan

David and Inez Myers Foundation

Melvin David

Den Labor Law

Charles and Naomi Ruth Deutsch

David and Debra Diamond

Sari and Shlomo Drazin

Robert and Shelley Dubin

Dr. Caryn Borger and Mark Dunec

Ezra and Adena Dyckman

Leah Edidin

Yossi Eisenberger

Gary and Karen Eisenberg

Chesky and Talia Eisenberger

Rina and Rabbi Dov Emerson

Emt Action Fund

Binah and Danny Englander

Marc and Patricia Epstein

Exit Mold & Lead

Melvin Farber

Seth and Zahava Farbman

Paul and Lorraine Fein

Steven Feintuch

David and Jamie Feit

Dennis and Amy Feit

Joseph and Dana Feldman

Rabbi Dave and Cheryl Felsenthal

Alex Fenigstein

Martin and Leora Fineberg

Aryeh and Dorit Fischer

David Fishel

Jonathan and Kim Fishman

Matthew and Julia Fleisher

Joseph and Rachel Fox

Dovid and Adina Frankel

Dr. Ben and Cara Freedman

Jeeremy and Dana Frenkel

Daniel and Ariella Freundlich

Joey Gabay

Mordechai and Zipporah Gasner

Shai and Tova Gerson

David and Rachel Gerstley

Efrem and Gila Gerszberg

Risa and Zev Gewurz

Eli and Shoshana Ghoori

Robert and Leah Gladstein

Ari and Abigail Glass

Lenny and Estelle Glass

Rick and Yvonne Goldberg

Mr. and Mrs. Ernie Goldberger

Evan and Rebecca Goldenberg

Zvi Goldman

Elisheva and Simcha Goldstein

Ezra and Lily Gontownik

Meyer and Itta Graff

Neil and Rachel Grafstein

Dr. Susan Graysen and Family

Robert and Gladys Greenberg

Freda Greenbaum

Aryeh and Goldie Gross

Meridian Capital Group

Ariel and Aleta Grunberg

Cheryl Haas

Michael Haddad

Steven and Jodi Halper

Marc and Vivian Hammerman

Scott Harris

Hc Staffing and Payroll Solutions

Seth and Elisheva Heller

Andrew and Terri Herenstein

Chani and Daniel Herrmann

Claire and Stuart Hershkowitz

Dov and Laura Hertz

Cathy and David Hoffman

Norma Holzer

Akiva and Chana Horowitz

Dr. Shalom and Lori Huberfeld

Dr. David and Barbara Hurwitz

Jon Hurewitz

Jay and Yael Idler

Gilon and Barbara Irwin

Moshe and Devora Isenberg

Daniel Jacob

Ovadiah and Leila Jacob

Motty and Hadassa Jacobowitz

Harry and Terry Jacobs

Vladimir Jaffe

Stanley and Phyllis Jaspan

Robert and Elaine Jaye

Alan and Lisa Jemal

Naphtali Joseph

Mark Kahan

Joshua and Elana Kahane

Leora Kaminer

John and Julie Kaplan

Michael Kaplan

Jacob Karmel

Stuart Karon and Dr. Jodi Wenger

Aaron and Jill Katz

Ari and Shari Katz

Kevin Katz

Lance Katz

Philippe and Esther Katz

Samuel Katz

Stuart and Carol Katz

Zachary Katz

Jordan and Nicole Kavana

Benjamin Kellogg

Daniel and Irit Kerstein

Dov and Amy Kesselman

Avigdor Kessler

Aryeh and Arielle Kieffer

Jeffrey and Laurie Kilimnick

Elli and Ashlet Klapper

Joshua and Henna Klarfeld

Richard and Susan Kofkoff

Allen Koss

Harry Kotler

David and Deborah Kramer

Rachel Kraut

Marcel and Esther Kremer

Steven and Danielle Kupferman

Jacob and Edythe Kupietzky

Robert Kushner

Ophir and Sharron Joan Laizerovich

Benzion Lasker

Armand and Esther Lasky

Adam and Dania Lauer

Eliot and Marilyn Lauer

Pinchus and Deborah Schick Laufer

Gayle Lewis

Jason and Miriam Lieber

Jeff and Merie Liebesman

Hylton and Leah Lightman

Ari and Mindi Lind

Sam and Rita Lipshitz

Mordechai and Penina Lipton

Maury and Elinor Litwack

Michael and Leslie Litwack

Chaim and Bara Loewenthal

David Loloyan

Edward Lowy

Jeremy and Tamar Lustman

Avi and Tova Lutz

Terry and Holly Magady

Lawrence and Milagro Magid

Noah and Arinn Makovsky

Adria and Jeffrey Mandel

David Mandel

Joseph and Meryl Mark

Shari and Yaakov Markovitz

Aaron and Lisa Martin

Robert and Rena Marx

Shmuel and Talia Mashiach

Moises Meichor

Gershon and Tzipporah Meisel

Tzachi and Elisheva Meisel

Benay and Ira Meisels

Adam and Francine Mermelstein

Avraham Metta

Leonard and Beverly Mezei

Geoffrey and Yardena Miller

Yale and Gail Miller

Yosef and Sarah Miller

Michael and Ariella Milobsky

Stuart and Sarah Milstein

Mayer and Lisa Mintz

Etan and Valerie Mirwis and Family

Donnie and Leora Mishaan

Dr. Daniel and Stephanie Mishkin

Jonathan and Shoshana Mizrachi

Marshall and Jean Mizrahi

David and Jill Mogil

Harry and Robin Mortkowitz

David and Candace Muhlrad

Michael and Michelle Nachmani

Sharona and Irwin Nachimson

Shulamis Nadler

Daniel and Anne Nagel

Rabbi Yaakov and Sara Nagel

Jonathan and Mindy Neiss

Harry and Dorit Nelson

Adam Nesenoff

Zachary Neugut

Jay and Paula Novetsky

Terry and Gail Novetsky

Michael and Naomi Nudell

Jonathan Nuszen

Jonathan and Dina Ohebshalom

Leslie and Josh Ostrin and Family

Drew and Careena Parker

Prof. Martin Patt

Ari and Cheryl Pearl

Dena and Seth Pilevsky

Yakov and Frumie Polatsek

Isaac and Bonnie Pollak

Donald and Esther Press

Mr. and Mrs. David Porush Richard and Ora Rabinovich

David Rabinowitz

Nachum and Chava Rabinowitz

Meir and Sara Raskas

Michael and Arianne Rauchman

Adam and Ilana Rauzman

Georgia Ravitz

Regals Foundation

Yaron and Lisa Reich

Max and Susan Reichenthal

Drs. Craig and Jackie Reiss

Lonnie Richardson

Gail and Binyamin Rieder

Ralph and Leah Rieder

Dr. Jay and Marjorie Robinow

Arnold and Francine Rochwarger

Nathaniel and Devora Rogoff

David and Lindi Rosen

Donny and Arielle Rosenberg

Jacob Rosenberg

David Rosengarten

Eliyahu Rosenthal

Dr. Howard and Brenda Rosenthal

Joshua and Alyse Rozenberg

Richard Rubenstein

Idelle Rudman

Zvi and Sharonne Rudman

Larry and Shelly Russak

Rafi and Elimor Ryzman

Milton and Shirley Sabin

Kenneth and Mindy Saibel

Noam and Aliza Salamon

Marvin and Roz Samuels

Sapphire Wealth Advisory Group

Zev and Shuly Safran

Robert and Annette Satran

Toby Macy Schaffer

Ilan Scharf

Robert and Andrea Schechter

Bradley and Judith Scher

Ronnie and Sandra Schiff

Yaniv and Michal Schiller

Steven and Rhonda Schottenstein

Phil and Francine Schwartz

Shlomo and Gitty Schwartz

Ari and Atara Segal

Dovid and Zisi Seitler

Ari and Shoshana Shabat

Ralph and Sarah Shamah

Louis Shamie

Howard and Alissa Shams

Michael and Tali Shapiro

Shefa Bracha Fund

Tamar and Aaron Sheffey

Yosef Shuchatowitz

Kenneth and Bonnie Sicklick

Les and Andi Silver

Tzvi Simpson

Barry and Joy Sklar

Colin and Wendy Lovell Smith

Iris Smith

Kerri and Jeffrey Snow Family Foundation

Barry and Jodie Sobel

S. Jan and Marsha Spector

Jonathan and Dodi Spielman

Ruth Brandt Spitzer

Kalman and Aliza Staiman

Gary and Naomi Stein

Estate of Melvin and Mirele Steinig

Jack S. and Ianna Sterenfeld

Rachelle and Zev Stern

Todd and Raphaela Stern

Aaron and Ariella Strassman

Daniel and Joyce Straus

Joseph Straus

Moshael and Zahava Straus

Ted and Linda Struhl

Abraham Sultan

Josh Sultan

Jack and Jolene Sutton

Michael Swieca

Tampa Jewish Community Centers and Federation

Jonathan and Rachel Tiger

Shlomo and Ronni Troodler

Shuli and Marc Tropp

Alan and Rachelle Tsarovsky

Eliana Vidan

Ephraim and Aviva Vilenski

Danny and Tirtza Vizel

Jonathan and Amy Vogel

Adina Wagman

Chaim and Aviva Wealcatch

Aaron Moishe and Rivka Weber

In Memory of Dovid Ben Reb Yosef

Weinberg A"H

Avrum and D'vorah Weinfeld

Tova and Howard Weiser

Lyle Weisman

Richard and Diane Weinberg

Gary and Hildee Weiss

Aryeh and Yael Wielgus

Jonathan and Lisa Wintner

Daniel and Becky Wolf

David and Natalie Wolf

Charles Wolofsky

Jonathan Zar

Cheryl and Marc Zeffren

Dana Zipperstein

Mark and Jessica Zitter

Mordechai and Henny Zolty

Danny and Dawn Zouber

Seth Zwillenberg

Yitzhok and Tamar Rosenthal

Isaac Frewa

Chaim Friedman

Mark and Cheryl Friedman

Neil and Ilana Friedman

Akiva and Mimi Friend

Dr. Stan and Marla Frohlinger

In Memory of Judy Lefkovits

Joshua and Erica Legum

Hugo Leibovitch

Ted and Robin Lerman

Mark and Eta Levenson

Adam Lewis

Yechiel and Margo Rosman

Eli and Racheli Roth

Robbie and Helene Rothenberg

Henry and Golda Reena Rothman

Joshua and Lisa Rothstein

Michael and Selina Rovinsky

List is updated regularly.

We apologize for any omissions. If you wish to be acknowledged, please contact Paul Kaplan at kaplanp@ou.org.

It’s My Party and I’ll Fry if I Want to

By Naomi Ross

Recognizing miracles of wartime may be part of the Chanukah story, but this year it was an experience we got to feel collectively as a people just like we did in Ancient Greek times. Being keenly aware of how much Hashem is fighting for us and watching over us opens the door to celebration and the desire to show gratitude. Doing something special with family or friends helps mark the moment. A party or other Chanukah get-together reminds us not to normalize the miraculous, but rather to be “Yehudim” . . . the people who acknowledge the Source of our help and give thanks.

Baked Latke “Doughnuts”

Yields: 6 servings

Looks like a doughnut, tastes like a potato latke—but with no frying mess!

¼ cup oil

3 potatoes, peeled

½ large or 1 small onion, peeled and quartered

1 egg, beaten

1¼ teaspoons Kosher salt

¼ teaspoon black pepper

Non-stick cooking spray

Special Equipment Doughnut pan

Preheat oven to 400°F. Place doughnut pan in oven to heat up. Meanwhile, grate the potatoes and onions together (this can be done in a food processor—I favor a fine shredding blade for this). Drain off and squeeze out any residual liquid (a cheesecloth or thin dishtowel works as well).

Transfer the potatoes to a mixing bowl. Add the oil, egg, salt and pepper.

Using oven mitts, carefully remove the pan from the oven and spray pan liberally with non-stick cooking spray. Divide the potato mixture among the pan’s sections, spreading it evenly. Return the pan to the oven; bake for 25–30 minutes or until nicely browned on top.

Cool slightly, then use a mini spatula to remove from pan. To serve: top with apple sauce for sweet or with smoked salmon, sour cream/crème fraiche and chives for savory.

Caprese Salad

Simple fresh ingredients are what this classic Italian salad is all about. Platter in a pattern for a beautiful presentation.

2–3 large ripe tomatoes, peeled and sliced ¼-inch thick

8 ounces fresh mozzarella, sliced ¼-inch thick

10–12 fresh basil leaves

¼–½ teaspoon Kosher salt

Freshly ground black pepper

2 tablespoons extra-virgin olive oil

2–3 teaspoons balsamic vinegar

Arrange the sliced tomato, mozzarella and basil leaves on a platter, overlapping the slices and fanning them out like a deck of cards (a pattern looks nice!)

Sprinkle with salt and pepper. Drizzle with the oil and vinegar. Serve immediately and enjoy!

Naomi Ross is a cooking instructor and food writer based in Woodmere, New York. She teaches classes throughout the country and writes articles connecting delicious cooking and Jewish inspiration. She is the author of The Giving Table (Brooklyn, NY, 2022).

Baked Latke “Doughnuts”

Photo: Baila Gluck

Swiss Chard Mini-Quiches

Yields 12 mini tartlets (or 6 mini tarts)

Quiches are a great do-ahead party item, and minis are always a cute serving option. Can be made a day ahead and reheated uncovered. Using a flavored cheese is a great shortcut for building in extra flavor.

1 dozen frozen mini-tartlet shells

½ large bunch Swiss chard

2 tablespoons butter

1 cup chopped onion (about 1 medium or ½ large onion)

1 teaspoon Kosher salt

Freshly ground black pepper

3 large eggs

¾ cup half & half

12 grape or cherry tomatoes, halved

¾ cup grated garlic & basil flavored cheese

Preheat oven to 375°F. Place frozen shells on a baking sheet; set aside.

Prepare Swiss Chard: Clean and check leaves thoroughly. (Small green aphids or thrips are commonly found in open leaf lettuce. Each leaf must be washed and checked individually. The use of a light box for checking lettuce is extremely helpful. See The OU Guide to Checking Produce and More [http://oukosher.org/ou-guide-tochecking-produce-and-more]). Separate long stems from Swiss chard leaves. Reserve and chop stems; set aside. Chop leaves into 1–2-inch strips; set aside.

Sauté: Heat butter in a large frying pan over medium-high heat until butter is melted. Add reserved stems, onion, salt and freshly ground black pepper to taste. Sauté for about 5–7 minutes, until onions are translucent and soft. Add reserved chopped chard leaves and sauté until leaves are wilted, about 2–3 minutes. Remove from heat and set aside.

In a small mixing bowl, combine eggs and half & half; whisk until well blended.

Assemble: Divide grated cheese among prepared tart shells, spreading over the bottoms. Then spoon 1–2 tablespoons of the Swiss chard mixture evenly over the cheese. Slowly add egg mixture to cover each tart. Arrange 1–2 tomato halves cut-side up in each mini. Place mini-quiches on prepared baking sheet and bake for about 20–25 minutes or until the center is completely set. Remove from oven, cool slightly, and serve.

Pre-Filled Nutella Sufganiyot

Yields 12–14 large doughnuts

Making homemade doughnuts can be time consuming with all the steps of making the dough, cutting, frying and filling them. Pre-filling and freezing them stuffed with a disc of frozen Nutella is a game-changer that will allow you to do the bulk of the work in advance. Come Chanukah, all that is needed is to thaw and fry.

Chef’s Note

Using a fry thermometer is invaluable to ensure oil is the right temperature (350–360°F). Too hot, and the doughnut will be burnt on the outside, raw on the inside. Too cold, and the doughnut will be greasy.

1 cup whole milk, warmed

1 envelope dry active yeast (2½ teaspoons)

1 teaspoon sugar, plus 2 tablespoons sugar, divided

4 cups white bread flour, plus more for dusting/kneading as needed

1 teaspoon salt

2 large eggs, beaten

6 tablespoons unsalted butter, melted Vegetable or canola oil, for frying

1 jar Nutella spread

Powdered sugar, for dusting

Proof: In the bowl of a mixer or large mixing bowl, combine the warm milk, yeast and 1 teaspoon of sugar. Mix until dissolved. Set aside until foamy, about 5–10 minutes.

Knead and Rise: Add the beaten eggs and melted butter to the yeast mixture. Gradually, add in the flour, remaining 2 tablespoons sugar and salt a little at a time, continually incorporating the flour after each addition until the mixture comes away from the sides of the bowl and forms a ball. If kneading by hand, turn the dough out onto a lightly floured surface and knead until smooth and elastic— it will be a soft, slightly sticky dough (alternatively, kneading can be done in a mixer with dough hook). Transfer the dough to a lightly oiled bowl, cover and let rise until doubled in size, about 1–2 hours.

While dough rises, spoon or pipe 1-tablespoon mounds of Nutella onto a parchment lined baking sheet (12–14 mounds). Place in freezer until assembly.

Cut Rounds: Punch down the risen dough. Turn out onto a lightly floured surface. Use a floured rolling pin to roll out dough to ½-inch thickness. Cut out 3-inch rounds with a lightly floured biscuit cutter (or drinking glass). Re-roll the scraps to create more rounds.

Fill: Place a frozen disc of Nutella in the center of the round (keep remaining discs frozen until ready to use). Wrap dough around the disc and pinch to seal; roll between hands to reshape into a puck. Repeat with remaining discs. Place the filled doughnuts onto a parchment lined baking sheet. If frying same day, cover lightly with a towel. Let rise about 30–40 minutes. (If making in advance, place baking sheet in the freezer; when doughnuts are frozen, they can be transferred to a freezer bag for storage. Thaw on a baking sheet completely before frying).

Fry: Fill a large pot with vegetable or canola oil—about 3 inches in depth. Heat pot over medium-high heat until oil reaches 350–360°F. Carefully drop the risen doughnuts into the hot oil, a few at a time. Fry until golden and puffed, turning once, about 2–3 minutes per side. Using a slotted spoon, transfer the doughnuts to a rack to drain. Dust with powdered sugar before serving.

Swiss Chard Mini-Quiche

Photo: Melinda Strauss

ACTION

NEW FROM OU PRESS

Ote LaParasha

By Rabbanit Atira Ote OU Press

Hashem’s Torah is a gift that continually enriches our lives, revealing new ideas and fresh perspectives with each exploration of its weekly portions. Brimming with timeless wisdom, engaging narratives, relatable characters and enduring lessons, the Torah inspires countless books, each conveying distinctive insights. Among the latest is Ote LaParasha, a family parashah book by Rabbanit Atira Ote. Written in contemporary Hebrew, this unique book captivates readers with its educational and enchanting style, covering all the parashiot of the Chumash along with their corresponding haftarot

into the Biblical content, with vibrant visuals that make the text lively and inviting. Each book of the Chumash is color-coded for easy navigation, and the content is divided into manageable sections to encourage paced, focused learning. Informative notes, such as the number of chapters and verses in each section and details on where each parashah begins and ends, enhance the learning experience. The book also specifies the exact pesukim of each haftarah according to different community customs, and highlights a memorable pasuk on the side for added edification.

Written in a conversational tone, Ote LaParasha resonates with readers of all ages. This warm, approachable style allows young Hebrew speakers to engage with the text independently. Additionally, the book is presented in a way that transcends ideologies, providing meaningful ideas to a broad and diverse audience.

Ote LaParasha divides each parashah into four sections: The first offers a concise overview, summarizing major events, mitzvot and key figures, setting the stage for deeper exploration. The second section outlines the haftarah, illuminating its connection to the parashah or its seasonal context. The third section presents a thought or lesson, including a short devar Torah suited for children, designed to spark meaningful discussion among family members. The final section features a parashah quiz, ideal for sharing at the Shabbat table. Arranged alphabetically, these quizzes give readers a hint toward the answers and will engage readers of all ages in a fun, stimulating challenge. Answers are conveniently located at the end of the book, making it accessible to all knowledge levels. Several distinctive elements elevate this work. Vividly illustrated by Tamara Karat, the book embodies the ideal of hiddur mitzvah—beautifying our performance of mitzvot. Tamara Karat’s colorful illustrations and modern artistic style breathe life

The inspiration for this book came during the Covid-19 pandemic when Rabbanit Ote sought to foster connection among families during a time of enforced isolation. Starting with a WhatsApp group to maintain a sense of community and keep parashah learning alive when synagogues were closed, she began sharing her original Hebrew quizzes with her neighbors. The group soon became popular with families worldwide, growing to nearly 1,000 members. To this day, quizzes are sent weekly and before chagim. To join, interested readers can email chidonatiraote@gmail.com.

However, there is no substitute for the joy of holding a book in one’s hands. Get your copy of Ote LaParasha from OU Press and ignite your family’s passion for the parashah.

The Shochet (Vol. 1): A Memoir of Jewish Life in Ukraine and Crimea

By Pinkhes-Dov Goldenshteyn, translated by Michoel Rotenfeld

Academic Studies Press Massachusetts, 2023

418 pages

Reviewed by Faigy Grunfeld

Meet the shochet, PinkhesDov Goldenshteyn (1848–1930), a product of Eastern European Jewish life in the nineteenth century, a tragic hero if ever there was one, dogged by difficulty yet visited by enough strokes of adventure to soften the blow of poverty, orphanhood and general oppression.

The Shochet is a strange mash-up of the prototypical shtetl Jew, the product of a Tevye-and-Golde union no doubt, yet so weirdly and shockingly colorful that at times you almost long for a dull entry of cows needing milking and laundry

needing scrubbing. And yes, there is enough real romance to go around, a fair rival to Shalom Aleichem’s fictional rendition. Surprisingly relevant and rife with familiarity, albeit not always relatable throughout, the book is an engaging read, fast-paced, plot heavy and laden with suspense: will tragedy ever move on to seize a different victim?

Goldenshteyn began penning his memoir in the early 1900s, and he continued the project until he published the unedited Yiddish version in Petach Tikva in 1928, shortly before his death. Masterfully translated and annotated for the English-speaking public by Michoel Rotenfeld, a historical researcher and director of Touro University Library’s Project Zikaron, the memoir, full of gawdy descriptions and hyperbolic phrases, suggests Rotenfeld’s careful dedication to preserving the original flavor as much as possible. (This first edition, Volume 1, covers the author’s childhood and early adulthood in Eastern Europe, while Volume 2 promises a cultural and circumstantial shift as Goldenshteyn relocates to Palestine).

The Shochet is unique within the genre of nineteenth-century memoir and autobiography because the field is dominated by secular writers, typical for Haskalah literature. Most parallel works tend to either bemoan the fanaticisms and idiosyncrasies of shtetl life, like The Autobiography of Solomon Maimon, which is searing in its condemnation of Talmudic scholarly society, or romanticize the idyllic period of untainted Jewish innocence, like Pauline Wengeroff’s Rememberings, which dresses up a long-abandoned religious childhood in rhapsodies.

The Shochet stands almost alone as an authentic work, guileless and lacking in agenda, making it of particular interest

to those exploring the period.

The granular specifics of this memoir are a windfall for historians, who often do the work of reconstructing nineteenth-century Eastern European Jewish life through a hodgepodge of primary documents, particularly when it comes to the day-to-day life of religious Jewry, which is more shrouded than its less religious counterpart. Goldenshteyn—whom Dr. Israel Singer of Touro University describes as “the Glückel of Hameln of Ukraine”— comes along with a breakthrough autobiography, dropping, through its robust portrait of shtetl happenings, delicious tidbits for historians to seize on.

Goldenshteyn exhibits some humor but leans into the drama as a dominant mood for his work. He gets a bit weepy regarding his hardships, and readers may come to suspect he amplifies his woes from time to time, although one can allow him a good kvetch. While he does a thorough job exploring the religious and financial realities of men like him during the period, all is mostly murky on the female front; his sisters’ and wife’s daily happenings are hardly explored, and neither is his relationship with his children, although perhaps there is more on that later (Volume 2).

Another glaring gap in the story is the impact of assimilationist thinking on the social fabric. He makes no mention of the forces of Haskalah, which is strange, given the depth of its inroads in the region by the second half of the nineteenth century.

Historical Treasure Trove

It’s all in the details for students of history, and Goldenshteyn doesn’t disappoint on that account.

The memoir is a Lemony Snicket series of unfortunate events in the Russian-

Faigy Grunfeld teaches English and history. She lives in Detroit, Michigan, with her family.

Ukrainian shtetls of the 1850s. Dead parents, dead siblings, dead children . . . it’s hard not to shed a tear or two along the way as young Pinye-Ber is shuffled among a network of poverty-stricken relatives in an informal foster care system of sorts. And things don’t get much better once he comes into adulthood.

It’s a particular treat to overlay bits of nineteenth-century living onto that of the twenty-first. The same-but-different-ness of various historical periods is always a point of surprise. While circumstances change, human nature and emotion often do not. In a beautifully believable moment of illustration, shortly after his parents’ death, as his sisters are mourning, young Pinye-Ber describes himself as “happy and laughing at them,” being that the thrill of “traveling was greater than anything else.” The key excitement—sitting next to the wagon driver and being able to “touch the reins and the whip.” It seems little boys have always loved their trucks.

Managing mischievous boys (and the occasional phone call home from the rebbi) is another diachronic theme illustrated in the memoir. Pinye-Ber’s sisters would twist their hands in exasperation at his school pranks, which he isn’t shy to own. “I was still the same rambunctious kid and the leader of a whole pack of boys, especially on Shobes [sic] when we turned the world upside down.”

And in a nod of reassurance for those of us who have spent too much time shuttling our youngsters around to learning specialists, it seems the greatest barrier for Pinye-Ber during his school years was a familiar malady—inability to sit still during class, a condition he says “was not my fault, rather it was the result of my little mind racing nonstop,” making our contemporary fixation with ADHD seem almost archaic.

Dropping a lot of gossipy tidbits about shidduchim, Goldenshteyn gives readers some insight into the romantic aspect of shtetl living. It’s more different than “same but different” in our nineteenth century to twenty-first century juxtaposition, but it has its familiarity as well.

Shidduchim then, as today, were heavy with what Chaim Shapiro, author of Once Upon a Shtetl, calls guzma, exaggeration. All of Goldenshteyn’s relatives seemed

to marry excellent matches (although a whole lot of unflattering portraits emerged after the weddings). In describing his own parents’ match, he notes how his grandfather chose his father, Reb Itsye, as a son-in-law because he was “worthy and virtuous,” as well as “devout . . . and respectable.” Most importantly, he was “handsome,” as every tzigekimener must be.

Snobbery is also afoot among the nuanced social classes of poverty-stricken Jewry. Goldenshteyn’s own wife was from “country stock,” and he clearly looked down on his in-laws for their rough manners. Although he, too, was born in a small town, which he acknowledges more than once was a place most people did not recognize, he writes, “I, who was raised as a city boy, found the entire atmosphere and their coarse lifestyle unfamiliar and abhorrent,” suggesting that matchmaking across the tracks even back then was no easy feat.

A Smorgasbord of Shtetl Characters

Perhaps most stark of the various themes that emerge from the memoir is the complexity and dynamism of our religious communities, both then and now.

All was not pious and perfect in the shtetl, as some narratives would have us believe. During one stint at what can only be called a “gimmel yeshivah” by today’s standards, the young scholars held it together during prayers for the benefit of outsiders who joined the minyan, but once they trickled out, “the fun started,” in the form of hitting “each other with wet towels,” while others “roasted potatoes and others turned over lecterns. It was lively and joyful,” if not very academically inclined.

Yet piety in the shtetl was not dead either. In a testament to the primacy of Torah study above all else, even the poor members of a local village or town would do everything possible to support yeshivah boys. The practice of essen teg was prevalent in the 1860s, and “the poorest, even the water carrier and the woodchopper, would also have a yeshivah student eat at his home once a week. If you had seen with what type of honor the poor man took a yeshivah student, you would say, ‘and who is like Your people, like the people of Israel?’”

Throughout his storytelling, Goldenshteyn paints a splashy portrait of the locals with whom he shares his life. For those looking to revisit the shtetl classics, you’ll find everyone from the shadchan to the shlemiel to the shlemazel in his recounting. One brother-in-law, who was all the rave before marrying into the family, turned out to be a slob who liked “little work, a lot of money, and good food and drink.” Another brotherin-law from a reputable Chassidic family, but with no real signs of greatness himself, became a “falche-Rebbe,” like the subject in a popular Baruch Levine song; however, his story has no happy ending as his petitioners quickly uncovered his true identity. And of course, the shtetl had its share of “le’khaim sayers,” as Goldenshteyn describes them, a cohort of benchwarmers who hung out in the nineteenth-century version of a coffee room, only with stronger spirits, and so on and so forth. A colorful cast of devout and slovenly figures appears throughout, as well as a mix of everything in between, making this memoir familiar, human and resonant, a rethinking of the shtetl personalities and perhaps a more honest rendition than any before it.

Why did he write all this? To what end? Goldenshteyn tells us directly. It is a narrative for his “children and relatives,” so they can understand “what their father endured during his lifetime and how G-d always helped him and never abandoned him.” In essence, it is a book of chizuk and emunah. When recounting the deaths of his beloved parents, the author segues directly into a fundamental point of faith: “who can ask G-d, ‘What are You doing?’ G-d certainly knows what He is doing for He is always right!” This is the motto of the pashute Yid of our collective romantic memory, which is alive and well in The Shochet. Occasionally his step falters. When describing one of his sisters’ crushing circumstances, he bemoans, “unfortunate souls, why did you have to be born?” but as his own difficulties continuously arise, he resorts to a familiar mantra—he is in the Creator’s hands, and all will be well.

The Shochet is a fundamental piece of beautifully simple moralizing: historic, timeless, and relevant as ever.

CANADA’S RABBI: The Life and Legacy of Rabbi Reuven Bulka

By Rikki (Bulka) Ash Ktav Publishing House

New York, 2024

208 pages

Reviewed by Rabbi N. Daniel Korobkin

How does one measure the impact of a rabbi? Is it by the size of his pulpit? Multiple career paths unfold early on for a young rabbi. Some rabbis start in small pulpits in out-oftown communities and then slowly work their way up to larger and more prominent pulpits in the big city. The less popular path is when the rabbi becomes deeply attached to his initial pulpit and chooses to remain in the small town for the duration of his career. He may have a smaller congregational platform, but that is compensated for by his forging indelible relationships with his beloved congregants and by his creating a deeper impact upon the larger community, something the “small fish” rabbi in the big city could never accomplish. Because the daily demands of a smaller synagogue are fewer, he is also able

to engage in more “extracurricular activities,” such as writing, and pursuing higher education and social activism. At the same time, the small-town rabbi often has to make sacrifices in his own social life as well as in his family life, such as sending his children away to yeshivot when the local school options are more limited. I often contemplate, with some wistful nostalgia, how my own career as a pulpit rabbi would have turned out had I stuck it out with my first out-of-town pulpit.

One rabbi who serves as a shining example and inspiration of this path less trodden is Rabbi Reuven Bulka, z”l, who served as senior rabbi of Congregation Machzikei Hadas in Ottawa, Canada, for over fifty years. Upon his passing in 2021, he was lauded with tributes normally accorded to Canadian dignitaries and politicians. Everyone, from the prime minister of Canada to local politicians, news reporters and the Ottawa chief of police issued statements of condolence over the rabbi’s passing. His influence upon the larger society around him was truly profound. His “pulpit” was much larger than anyone would have imagined for an “out-of-town” rabbi.

In many ways, Rabbi Bulka was a “rabbi’s rabbi,” having written dozens of books that included various Torah subjects, such as commentaries on Pirkei Avot and the Haggadah. He was the author of the very popular Lifecycle Madrikh for rabbis, published by the RCA in 1995, and before he took ill, he was working as one of the editors of the new Hamadrikh released by the RCA last year. He also wrote several books on psychological topics for a more general readership.

Rabbi Bulka took the extra time that is afforded to the out-of-town rabbi to pursue a doctorate in psychology from the University of Ottawa. He

was a true talmid muvhak, a premier student, of the late Dr. Viktor Frankl, who developed logotherapy, a form of psychological therapy that helps the patient find meaning and purpose in life. Frankl developed this discipline as a result of his experiences while interred in a concentration camp during the Holocaust. Informed by his own experience of personal tragedy, Rabbi Bulka authored books and articles on Frankl’s work, incorporating his ideas into a Torah framework.

Rabbi Bulka was deeply engaged in tikkun olam, which he defined as “Our responsibility . . . to inspire the world to acknowledge G-d, to embrace G-d, and to behave with the awe of G-d as the basis of all action,” and he achieved this goal by making his community and the world at large a better place. He worked with politicians, community leaders and other faith leaders to bring kindness and compassion to the larger society. Working with the United Way, he developed Kindness Week, a city-wide weeklong event to engage the minds and hearts of Ottawans with kindness and generosity. He wrote articles for the local newspaper and had a weekly radio show, through which his pulpit expanded to the entire city and beyond.

I had the privilege of being a talmid chaver, a junior colleague and friend, of Rabbi Bulka. Although our paths crossed only periodically, I was always deeply impressed by the man’s humility, his often-self-effacing sense of humor and his deep sense of duty to Klal Yisrael. His commitment to his congregants and to the larger community were truly inspiring. This commitment was born of genuine

Rabbi N. Daniel Korobkin is mara d’atra of Beth Avraham Yoseph of Toronto Congregation.

ahavat habriyot, a love for one’s fellow man. Rabbi Bulka demonstrated this love in multiple arenas, but probably most prominently in the area of bikur cholim, visiting and attending to the sick. His accomplishments were recognized repeatedly through awards and medals presented by the city of Ottawa, the province of Ontario and the Canadian government. One such honor was the renaming of the park adjacent to Machzikei Hadas. Its new name: Rabbi Bulka Kindness Park. He was dubbed with the moniker “Canada’s Rabbi” by the political leaders of Ottawa.

Rabbi Bulka’s granddaughter, Rikki Ash, lovingly penned a tribute biography to her grandfather. In it, she captures the warmth, humor and modesty of a truly great man. The book contains chapters on Rabbi Bulka’s multifaceted career, covering his dedication to his congregation, his training as a psychologist, and his commitment to the Canadian armed forces, visiting the sick, and much more. Lest one think that this is merely a hagiography written by a family member, every chapter includes letters and dedications to Rabbi Bulka

written by the members of his shul and the larger Ottawa community. This was a man who was clearly beloved by thousands of people whose lives were profoundly affected by him.

Several years ago, our shul dedicated a Shabbat to focus attention on the disabled in our community, and we hosted Rabbi Bulka to be our scholarin-residence for that Shabbat because of his sensitivity and care.

One anecdote from Ash’s book that struck a particularly deep chord took place in Toronto. I don’t know for certain, but perhaps it transpired at my congregation, Beth Avraham Yoseph of Toronto Congregation (“the BAYT”), on that weekend.

It was a Shabbat at a shul in Toronto, and my grandfather was the scholarin-residence. Bucky Prizant, a native of Ottawa and close family friend, noticed someone he knew having a long conversation with Rabbi Bulka. Following the conversation, Bucky asked how he knew Rabbi Bulka. “I didn’t,” the man replied. “This is actually my first time meeting him in person. A few years ago, my marriage was in a very bad place. Someone had recommended we

call Rabbi Bulka, and he literally saved our marriage. Ever since, Rabbi Bulka has called us every week to check in on how we are doing. So I had to take this opportunity to finally meet him in person and thank him.”

Rabbi Bulka often inspires me to do more. His legacy demonstrates the extent of the impact one spiritual leader can have not only upon the Jewish community but upon an entire city and country. While Rabbi Bulka’s universalist outlook and approach to his pulpit may not resonate with every religious Jew, one cannot help but be awed by his level of productivity over his half-century of service.

This sense of awe is what lingers after reading Ash’s biography. My rabbinic colleagues and I, as well as every human being, can gain much wisdom by reading of this incredible man’s achievements, even if we only ask ourselves the question (from Tanna D’vei Eliyahu Rabbah 25), “When will my deeds reach the level of my forebears?”

May his memory be a blessing.

The Guide to the Perplexed: A New Translation

Moses Maimonides; Translated and with commentary by Lenn E. Goodman and Phillip I. Lieberman

Stanford University Press California, 2024 704 pages

Reviewed by Rabbi Shnayor Burton

One might have expected the various translators of Rambam’s enigmatic and esoteric explication of the Torah’s mysteries, written in JudeoArabic, The Guide to the Perplexed, to follow the master’s instructions to his first translator, Rabbi Shmuel Ibn Tibbon. Rambam advised him on the one rule a diligent translator must bear in mind:

A translation that aims for strict fidelity to the exact wording, syntax and structure of the original text will be awkward and full of error. . . . This approach is not ideal. Instead, the translator should first grasp the subject matter of the source text and then write

it anew in the target language, adjusting the structure, translating one word with many or many words with one, and adding or subtracting words as needed, in order to present the subject matter appropriately for the target language (Iggerot HaRambam, Jerusalem 1995, vol. 2, p. 532—my liberal translation).

In other words, the translator should rewrite the text as if it were originally written in the target language.

Yet Rambam’s instructions were honored in the breach. Ibn Tibbon’s translation style in general involved literal, word-for-word accuracy, and he applied this same style to Rambam’s work, rendering a Hebrew book that bears the indelible stamp of its Arabic original—admittedly somewhat awkward in the target language, but a faithful window into the original wording. The same approach informed the English translation of the Guide undertaken by Shlomo Pines in conjunction with Leo Strauss, who produced a book designed to “remain as close as is practicable to the original, that . . . should give the reader an impression—both in general and in detail—resembling the impression offered by the original” (The Guide of the Perplexed [Chicago 1963] Preface). This translation, like the first Hebrew one, can be read only slowly, with focus and care. Study of these editions of the Guide is undertaken only by those sufficiently persistent or curious to overcome the natural barrier of its obscure text.

The new edition of the Guide, translated and with commentary by Lenn Goodman and Phillip Lieberman, published by Stanford University Press, attempts something fresh—a translation in the fashion that Rambam

himself recommended. Untethered by the constraints of strict literalism, this translation prioritizes readability and flow, making Rambam’s profound ideas more accessible to a broader audience by presenting the subject matter in a way that resonates with contemporary readers. A welcome contribution to the ongoing study of the Guide, this edition is sure to spur renewed interest and engagement with the timeless classic. The difficulty of reading the Guide is no longer an excuse for putting off reading this seminal work of Torah thought. However, the resonance and readability of this edition were achieved at a great and concerning cost. The Guide is no simple book. It is a mysterious and cryptic work, written as if in code and full of contradictions, providing dedicated readers with endless depth, multiple layers of interpretation and iterative insights. Rambam’s masterful method of authoring a book that simultaneously reveals and conceals the Torah’s mysteries involved writing on two levels: a superficial level accessible to the general reader and a deeper level accessible only to those who decipher the Guide’s unique code. In that spirit, Rambam himself instructs

Rabbi Shnayor Burton is a senior editor at ArtScroll Mesorah Publications, where he contributes to the Kisvei HaRambam series and other works. A wellregarded lecturer on Torah topics, he has authored numerous books, including his latest, Ha’Aretz asher Areka, which explores the mitzvah of residing in Eretz Yisrael. Rabbi Burton also writes regularly on Torah themes in his Substack, Unapologetics.

his readers how to get the most out the work: If you wish to grasp the totality of what this treatise contains, so that nothing of it will escape you, then you must connect its chapters one with another; and when reading a given chapter, your intention must be not only to understand the totality of the subject of that chapter, but also to grasp each word that occurs in it in the course of the speech, even if that word does not belong to the intention of the chapter. For the diction of this treatise has not been chosen at haphazard, but with great exactness and exceeding precision (Guide, introduction, Pines translation).

The Guide is not one book but two, designed for two different readers. One book is written clearly and moves along briskly and sequentially from chapter to chapter. This book is accessible even to the casual reader; “every beginner will derive benefit from some of the chapters of this treatise” (ibid.). The other book is a hidden, subterranean labyrinth accessible only to the most dedicated and careful reader who notices and grasps each word and looks for hidden connections between chapters; the “perfect man . . . will benefit from all of its chapters. How greatly will he rejoice in them and how pleasant will it be to hear them!” (ibid.). In line with the flow of the first book, Rambam will often identify the general point or subject of a particular chapter—this for the casual reader, to direct him forward. The second book is different. It decidedly does not flow; it can be recovered only painstakingly, through toil and strenuous study, according to the way of the Torah.

Every edition of the Guide must be measured on these two planes distinctly, and here the new edition falls far short. The casual reader has been offered a smooth book at the expense of the serious student. The superficial Guide has indeed been represented in easy, flowing language, but the second, hidden book has been completely banished, making this a flawed rendition that presents only one aspect of Rambam’s masterpiece. To properly rewrite the Guide in line with Rambam’s instructions, two conditions must be

Accuracy was sacrificed for smoothness of the bigger picture, and the hidden book was sacrificed for ease of access to the first—a questionable strategy that risks misrepresenting the Guide by suggesting that it contains no deeper meanings.

met: first, the translators must fully probe the depths of the original book, and second, they must reweave all the allusions into the new book, selecting each word with the same great exactness and exceeding precision that Rambam utilized in his work. The opposite approach was taken in this edition. The translators consistently simplify and smooth the reading, papering over those anomalies and odd nuances planted by Rambam to alert the attentive reader looking for the secrets hidden in the Guide like buried treasures. While this work admirably conveys the general sense of each chapter and will keep its readers engaged, it makes the secrets embedded in the text impossible to recover. Accuracy was sacrificed for smoothness of the bigger picture, and the hidden book was sacrificed for ease of access to the first—a questionable strategy that risks misrepresenting the Guide by suggesting that it contains no deeper meanings.

The perspective afforded by this edition of the Guide makes the more literal approaches of Ibn Tibbon and Pines look like the smart approach for a translator who won’t rewrite all the Guide’s secrets in his own words: fidelity to the exact wording provides the reader an opportunity to discover them himself.

This edition should be seen as a gateway, ideal for beginners seeking an easy introduction to the Guide’s profound teachings. However, no sentence can be assumed to reflect Rambam’s exact intent. Those who wish to delve into the true depths of

Rambam’s work will need to consult another, more faithful translation, its awkwardness the modest and worthwhile price of admission to the Guide’s intellectual delights. For serious students of Rambam, this edition can serve as an initial step, but not the final destination.

Two examples will illustrate the flaw of this work, both involving nuances present in the original that were missed or elided. In the very first chapter of the Guide, Rambam teaches what makes man human and what makes him in the image of G-d: The essence of a human is his ability to apprehend intellectual truths, and the apprehension makes him in the image of G-d. It emerges that not every man is in the image of G-d, since he must actually apprehend in order to become in G-d’s image, a point made explicit in chapter 7. We are born with the potential to become godly—this is what makes us human—but in order to attain the image of G-d, we must actualize that potential. This tension within man underpins Rambam’s position that the intellect is like the form of the human soul, what defines it as a human soul; therefore, if the soul doesn’t actually attain intelligence, its existence is, in a sense, futile (Shemonah Perakim, chap. 1). This crucial distinction between a human’s essence and the image of G-d is present in the original Arabic, preserved in the Ibn Tibbon and Pines translations, and commented on by Abarbanel and others. Pines’ translation reads thus (emphasis mine): “The term image . . . is applied to the natural form,

I mean to the notion in virtue of which a thing . . . becomes what it is. It is the true reality of the thing insofar as the latter is that particular being. In man, that notion is that from which human apprehension derives. It is on account of this intellectual apprehension that it is said of man: ‘In the image of G-d He created him.’” Compare the new translation, which provides an easier but misleading read: “. . .tselem is said of the natural form that gives reality to a thing and makes it what it is, its essence as that thing. In the human case, this is the seat of consciousness, the rational intellect, in virtue of which it is said of man, ‘In the image of G-d He created him.’” This paraphrase blurs the important distinction between a human qua human and a human who is in the image of G-d, and carelessly identifies the seat of consciousness with the rational intellect itself.

In vol. 2, chapter 33, Rambam writes regarding Moshe: “he, who was greater than anyone born of man” (Pines translation). This implies that Moshe himself was not “born of man,” a notion borne out elsewhere in Rambam’s writings where he makes clear that Moshe’s essence was not his body, but rather his intellect alone. Moshe was a pure, godly soul, his material body merely a vessel. For Rambam, this is a crucial point, as only a “godly man” termed an “angel of Hashem” (Peirush HaMishnah, Avot 5:13) could channel the revelation of Divine, perfect truth that is the Torah. The new edition simplifies and elides this nuance, translating thus: “The greatest man ever born.”

Another aspect of this edition, beneficial for both beginners and advanced students, is the extensive footnoting sourcing the rich background and foreground for Rambam’s ideas. Of particular note are the parallels to Philo, many of them striking in their similarity given that Rambam never saw his writings. Greek and Islamic philosophic roots of Rambam’s thinking are presented masterfully, and the edition also highlights the engagement of later philosophers and thinkers with the Guide, offering a perspective on its impact and interpretation over time. Woefully underrepresented is the rabbinic engagement with the Guide over the centuries; a truly comprehensive view of the great book’s impact and interpretation would include thorough and detailed references to Ramban, Rabbi Hasdai Crescas, Rabbi Meir Ibn Gabbai, Rabbi Moshe Cordovero, Rabbi Moshe Isserles, Rabbi Moshe Chaim Luzzatto, the Vilna Gaon and more, in addition to the many references to Aquinas, Spinoza and Solomon Maimon. Buy a copy of this noteworthy book. Enjoy it for its smooth style and extensive references, but use it in conjunction with another, more accurate edition of the Guide, until the great synthesis is achieved and the Guide is rewritten in English with the same precision, depth and nuance as Rambam’s original masterpiece.

Statement of Ownership, Management and Circulation 1. Publication Title: Jewish Action. 2. Publication No. 005-239. 3. Filing Date: September 30, 2024. 4. Issue Frequency: Quarterly and Passover. 5. No. of Issues Published Annually: Five. 6. Annual Subscription Price: $16.00. 7. Complete Mailing Address of Known Office of Publication: Orthodox Union, 40 Rector Street, 4th Floor, NY, NY, 10006. Contact Person: Anthony Lugo. Telephone: 212.613.8163. 8. Complete Mailing Address of Headquarters or General Business Office of Publisher: Same. 9. Full Names and Complete Mailing Addresses of Publisher, Editor and Managing Editor: Publisher: Orthodox Union, 40 Rector Street, 4th Floor, NY, NY, 10006. Editor: Nechama Carmel, same address; Managing Editor: Yoni Cohen, same address. 10. Owner: Orthodox Union, 40 Rector Street, 4th Floor, NY, NY, 10006. 11. Known Bondholders, Mortgagees, and Other Security Holders Owning or Holding 1 Percent or More of Total Amount of Bonds: None. 12. Tax Status (For completion by nonprofit organizations authorized to mail at nonprofit rates): The purpose, function, and nonprofit status of this organization and the exempt status for federal income purposes has not changed during the preceding 12 months. 13. Publication Title: Jewish Action. 14. Issue Date for Circulation Data Below: October 2024.

Extent and nature of circulation: Nonprofit

a. Total No. Copies (Net Press Run)

b. Paid and/or Requested Circulation

(1) Paid/Requested Outside-Country Mail Subscriptions Stated on Form 3541

(2) Paid In-Country Subscriptions Stated on Form 3541

(3) Sales Through Dealers and Carriers, Street Vendors, Counter Sales, and Other Non-USPS Paid Distribution

(4) Other Classes Paid Through the USPS

c. Total Paid and/or Requested Circulation [Sum of 15b. (1), (2), (3), and (4)]

d. Free Distribution by Mail (1) Outside Country as Stated on Form 3541

In-Country as Stated on Form 3541

Other Classes Mailed Through the USPS

(4) Free Distribution Outside the Mail

e. Total Free Distribution [Sum of 15d (1), (2), (3) and (4)

Total Distribution [Sum of 15c. And 15e.)

Copies Not Distributed

Total [Sum of 15f. And g.]

a. Paid Electronic Copies

b. Total Paid Print Copies (Line 15c) + Paid Electronic Copies (Line 16a)

c. Total Print Distribution (Line 15f) + Paid Electronic Copies (Line 16a)

d. Percent Paid (Both Print & Electronic Copies) (16b divided by 16c x 100)

I certify that 50% of all my distributed copies (electronic and print) are paid above a nominal price. 16. Electronic Copy Circulation

Publication of Statement of Ownership required. Will be printed in the Winter 2024 issue of this publication. 17. Signature and Title of Editor, Publisher, Business Manager, or Owner: Anthony Lugo, Production Manager. Date: October 1, 2024.

Light Up Your Mind with Books from OU Press

The Light That Unites: A Chanukah Companion

Rabbi Aaron Goldscheider’s illumination of this beloved holiday, accompanied by Aitana Perlmutter’s original artwork, offers one teaching for each Chanukah candle to set hearts alight with Chanukah’s message.

The Person in the Parasha: Discovering the Human Element in the Weekly Torah Portion

A collection of short and accessible essays, based on Rabbi Dr. Tzvi Hersh Weinreb’s popular column of the same name, presents an original point of view that brings biblical personalities to life.

Ote Laparasha

Rabbanit Atira Ote’s new Hebrew book offers a family-friendly parasha companion, including her original alphabetical parasha quizzes which are perfect for sharing at the Shabbat table.

Hasidus Meets America: The Life and Torah of the Monastryshcher Rebbe zt”l (1860–1938) and an Anthology of His Teachings

Professor Ora Wiskind’s latest work includes a captivating biography of Rabbi Yehoshua Heschel Rabinowitz, one of the first Hasidic masters to arrive in America, along with a selected anthology of his teachings on the Jewish holidays with her insightful commentary.

The Covenant Kitchen: Food and Wine for the New Jewish Table

Acclaimed winemakers Jeff and Jodie Morgan take kosher dining to a new level of sophistication – the ultimate kosher cookbook for foodlovers, with detailed suggestions for wine pairing.

The

Crowns on the Letters: Essays on the Aggada and the Lives of the Sages

Rabbi Ari Kahn’s immensely learned and deeply creative work contains interpretations of fundamental aggadot relating to the intellectual biographies of the Tannaim and Amoraim and major themes in Jewish thought.

Reviews in Brief

By Rabbi Gil Student

MEDINAH, HALACHAH VEKAVANOT HATORAH

by Rabbi Yitzchak Shilat

Shilat-Ma’aleh Adumim Press

Jerusalem, 2023

456 pages

Halachah, Jewish law, does not always offer a direct answer to contemporary questions. When faced with a new reality, we first try to find a comparable analogy in rabbinical literature. An additional avenue is following the general direction of halachah even when there is no specific requirement. Rabbi Yitzchak Shilat, the great scholar and translator of Rambam and co-rosh yeshivah at Yeshivat Birkat Moshe in Ma’aleh Adumim, adopts the phrase “kavanot haTorah,” the Torah’s intentions, to refer to this direction. He takes that phrase from Ibn Tibbon’s translation of Rambam’s Moreh Nevuchim. In America, we might call it “halachic values.” It offers us insight into what the Torah implies, what the Divine will desires, even when it does not command it directly.

Rabbi Shilat has published three breathtaking volumes on contemporary halachah and kavanot haTorah: one on medical ethics (2014), another on marriage and sexuality (2018) and a third on government (2023). This third volume was published during heated public debate over separation of powers in the Israeli government. In these books, Rabbi Shilat takes a broad range of topics and offers a sweeping overview of the entire

rabbinic literature on the subjects—from Biblical verses through every major era to contemporary authorities, concluding with practical decisions. The result is a veritable textbook on the subjects that offers background material and addresses difficult contemporary questions with practical conclusions, all in an enjoyable read.

The latest volume discusses the ideal form of Jewish government based on halachic texts and how these ideas should be put into practice today. It also discusses what halachah has to say on national defense (military), internal security (police), justice (court system), conversion to Judaism and the binding nature of secular law. Based on responsa literature, Rabbi Shilat develops the idea that Israel’s executive branch (prime minister and cabinet) serves the function of a king, which is responsible for internal and external security; the legislative branch (Knesset) appoints the executive branch and retains for itself responsibility for passing laws, as representatives of the monarchy and of society; the judicial branch takes on the role of a monarchy to punish criminals. Rabbi Shilat distinguishes between the current system of government in Israel and the ideal system as it emerges from halachic sources. After surveying textual sources throughout the ages, Rabbi Shilat maps out a realistic and specific plan for a Torah-based government in modern society. He discusses the separation of powers, the requirement of holiness in the military, the mandate for a police force that operates seven days a week, the status of religious minorities in a halachic state, and much more.

In the introduction, Rabbi Shilat notes that his previous volumes have been criticized for spending too much time discussing halachah rather than the kavanot haTorah. He replies that we only resort to indirect guidance when we lack direct guidance. In this book, like in his previous books in this series, Rabbi

Shilat guides readers through the halachic sources as they were applied in different eras and asks important questions about how the Torah can be faithfully implemented today in our complex society, which is so different from the ancient world. The stunning result is a fundamental lesson in how to think about societal issues from the perspective of both the letter and the spirit of Jewish law. A reader emerges from this book with a vision of how a halachic state can operate in the modern world.

LIVING IN THE LAND: FIRSTHAND ACCOUNTS FROM BNEI TORAH AND THEIR FAMILIES

Edited by Yoel Berman Mosaica Press

Ramat Beit Shemesh, Israel, 2023 295 pages

Israel is no longer the third-world country it once was. Making aliyah is easier today than ever in history. Yet so many Jews still remain in the Diaspora for a variety of reasons. Many stay in the area where they grew up out of inertia, assuming that change is difficult.

In an effort to help Jews make and fulfill the important decision to move to Israel, Rabbi Yoel Berman published a collection of essays from fifty people discussing their aliyah stories. Living in the Land is written by and directed at English-speaking Jews who fit into the Yeshivish socio-religious group. The writers primarily come from the main Yeshivish communities in America (Brooklyn, Monsey, Lakewood, Baltimore and Cleveland, among others).

Rabbi Gil Student is a member of Jewish Action’s Editorial Committee.

Readers may be surprised that the contributors ended up in many different places in Israel. Some moved to popular areas such as Jerusalem or Ramat Beit Shemesh, but many settled in a variety of locations across Israel. Just looking at the table of contents and seeing the list of authors and where they live teaches a lesson—there are many places where an American oleh can feel comfortable in Israel.

As each writer tells his or her story in two or three pages, we find no single reason why people make aliyah and no single way how they do it. There are a variety of motivations for aliyah, rarely is it based on pure ideology. Some people wanted to join the Jewish future that lies in Israel; others came to study for a few years and fell in love with the country; many had family connections to Israel. Nearly everyone feels the supernatural draw of the Holy Land.

The book is very much pro-aliyah, but the writers tell some hard truths about the process. One writer compares aliyah to the mitzvah of orlah on a tree, whose fruit is forbidden for the first three years. Likewise, the first three years of aliyah are difficult. The transitions are hard; the lifestyle is different; the bureaucracy is frustrating. Some of the contributors made aliyah multiple times, meaning that they had tried to stay in Israel but could not make it work and had to leave, and then tried again years later. This is where the book is most helpful.

Living in the Land is full of realism and optimism, the hard lessons of personal experience combined with the happiness and satisfaction of living in a Jewish society in the Holy Land. The book is also full of helpful tips for anyone considering aliyah. For example, those individuals who did the most research ended up finding the right communities for their families, often outside the main population centers where real estate is cheaper. Others rented first and experimented with different communities. A simple tip is to hire a Hebrew tutor for your children before moving to Israel, which will help them adjust more quickly. The varieties of aliyah experience demonstrate just how many people can successfully move to Israel. The book will hopefully open the eyes of many who think aliyah is not possible for them and will allow them to follow the spiritual draw of Israel.

SAMSON RAPHAEL HIRSCH’S RELIGIOUS UNIVERSALISM AND THE GERMAN-JEWISH QUEST FOR EMANCIPATION

By Dr. Moshe Y. Miller

University of Alabama Press Tuscaloosa, Alabama, 2024

300 pages

One of the challenges of modern Jewish thought is finding the right balance between particularism and universalism. If we maintain a special connection with fellow Jews, how do we relate to our non-Jewish friends and colleagues? If we are the “Chosen People,” what room does our religion have for the non-chosen? This issue has been largely resolved within mainstream Orthodox Jewish thought today, but the discussion was only beginning when modernity began to affect the lives of Jews in the late eighteenth and early nineteenth centuries. The direction taken by important German rabbis and thinkers will surprise many people.

In this engrossing study, Dr. Moshe Y. Miller, assistant professor of Jewish history at Touro College, shows that even a figure such as Rabbi Samson Raphael Hirsch, who is revered in rightwing Orthodox Jewish circles, adopted unconventional positions. However, Dr. Miller does much more than study Rabbi Hirsch’s views. In fact, only two of the ten chapters in this book address Rabbi Hirsch directly. Rather, Dr. Miller places Rabbi Hirsch into context by delving into the views of similar scholars who preceded Rabbi Hirsch, were contemporary with him or came after him. What emerges is a surprising universalism among great German scholars of the nineteenth and early twentieth centuries. Dr. Miller surveys the views of Rabbi Hirsch’s rabbinic contemporaries in Central Europe and his German predecessors, highlighting some modern elements of universalism. He focuses on what he calls “the mission theory,” namely the idea that the Jewish people serve as a model for other nations.

While G-d gave the Torah to the Jews, He intended it to influence, on some level, all of humanity. In other words, G-d cares about all people. Additionally, while the concept is disputed among modern halachic scholars, some key German rabbinic authorities stated that Christianity does not constitute polytheism and therefore gentiles can become Christians without violating the Seven Noahide Laws.

Proceeding to Rabbi Hirsch, Dr. Miller sensitively analyzes passages from his Bible commentary and other works where he expresses attitudes that place high value on the lives of all people. Rabbi Hirsch writes that Christianity is considered monotheism, although it is a somewhat diluted monotheism compared to Judaism. He considers the Biblical stranger (ger), of whom we must take special care, to be any stranger, regardless of nationality or religion. Perhaps most surprisingly, Rabbi Hirsch believes that the commandment to “love your fellow as yourself” (Vayikra 19:18) applies to all of humanity, not just Jews. Many of Rabbi Hirsch’s conclusions do not appear to flow naturally from the sources and reflect a spirit of universalism that emerged in nineteenth-century German Orthodox Judaism.

Dr. Miller continues his analysis of Hirschian universalism into the twentieth century, showing Rabbi Hirsch’s lasting impact. Rabbi Yechiel Yaakov Weinberg’s writings show clear signs of Hirschian influence. Sarah Schenirer, though not a traditional scholar, exerted significant influence on the Jewish community. She wrote to her students: “It is incumbent upon you to love every single human being, both those who are near and those who are far, for you were strangers in Egypt.” While Dr. Miller does not continue through to the twenty-first century, he could likewise have shown Hirschian universalism in the teachings of the late Rabbi Lord Jonathan Sacks.

Dr. Miller’s work is an exciting tour of nineteenth-century Orthodox intellectuals, demonstrating that leading scholars were open, in varying degrees, to a Torah ethic based on Jewish sources that accepts particular Jewish concerns while valuing broader human value, culture and achievements.

COMING OUT OF THE WOODWORK

By Jeff Korbman

My wife cuts coupons. Twenty years ago, that involved scissors. Today she downloads.

And it was twenty years ago, as she unloaded a trunk full of groceries, that Dana asked me to put up something in our laundry room where she could store non-perishables. I built my first cabinet, with doors.

This wasn’t just any cabinet with doors. The Guinness World Records came to see it; it was the world’s ugliest cabinet with doors. I was overjoyed. Woodworkers call it a “bug,” and once you catch it, you’re addicted. Soon came ugly bookcases, end tables, floating shelves, side tables, cutting boards and, eventually, a dining room table.

As my interest expanded, two concurrent dynamics slowly evolved. First, as word got out in Highland Park/Edison, New Jersey, where I live, more and more friends and neighbors had requests for furniture. Second, I found myself increasingly gravitating toward Judaica projects.

Challah board? Check.

Mezuzah cover? Check.

Menorah, shtender, bimah . . . check, check, check.

Marrying woodworking to my Jewish beliefs and identity took on meaning beyond expectation. What began with a prayer that two pieces of wood could stay together with a gallon of glue evolved into a more philosophical belief that taking G-d’s raw material and fabricating something for religious expression was sacred.

The late Sam Maloof, one of the “gedolim” of twentieth-century woodworking, put it this way:

“A craftsman must respect his material. How much more meaningful it becomes if one wears a bit of humility that allows him to acknowledge that it is truly G-d who is the Master Craftsman. He uses us. Our hands are His instruments.”

Over time, I began to notice that the strongest connections I was making didn’t involve glue but involved clients such as Cindy.

Cindy was thirty-one, and a recent convert to Judaism. She needed a bookshelf where she could place her ArtScroll Shabbat and Festivals Siddur. It needed to be a big bookshelf. And it needed to be sturdy as well because Cindy is blind and the Braille version of the siddur is composed of over twenty large volumes. The bookshelf I crafted for Cindy was more than just a bookcase; it was a home of faith.

Meeting Mrs. Unger was just as meaningful. At a yom tov meal where both of us were guests, Mrs. Unger turned to me and asked me to build for her a “cabinet mit a lock.” She wanted a lock so that her superintendent couldn’t gain access to her papers. Admittedly that sounded bizarre . . . until I learned more.

Mrs. Unger, ninety-one, was a survivor. She was a woman of tremendous integrity, who came to shul dressed impeccably. Never would I nor anyone else have had the temerity to ask about the scar on her left cheek. But when I asked my son Sam to help me carry the new cabinet into Mrs. Unger’s apartment, that changed.

She told Sam her story. As a young girl, she was on a cattle car to Warsaw. It was unbearably hot for days. During the trip, her father kept pulling on a floorboard beneath them and was eventually able to pry it up. As he pushed his daughter through the opening, a nail gashed her cheek. She ran into the forest, never to see her family again.

My most meaningful project, however, was for someone I never met nor will ever meet.

Jewish law dictates that a person be buried in a modest, simple casket. It must be made from material that will disintegrate in the ground, enabling the physical body to return to the earth as

quickly as possible, granting the soul true peace. In America, the prevailing custom is to use a casket made of wood.

One day, while at a family funeral, I found myself sitting up front and staring at the pine box. I admit—my curiosity was piqued. I had to ask. “What did they charge for the casket?” I whispered to a close family member.

“About $1,100,” he told me. I almost keeled over.

The next day, I went to Home Depot and walked out with $179.76 worth of pine. For $5 on Etsy, I bought a simple wooden “Star of David.” Two days later, when all the glue dried, I had an aron—a traditional Jewish casket.

I felt accomplished, but my wife was clear she wanted it out of the house! I donated it to a local Jewish funeral home that was more than happy to take what they called “an Orthodox box.”

Five months passed. On a quiet Sunday morning, I received a call from the funeral home. They told me they were contacted earlier in the week by a Jewish family in New Brunswick. The family was desperate. Their young relative with severe disabilities died suddenly. The family had little money. They asked the funeral home if there was any way an inexpensive burial could take place. The funeral home said yes—because they had my “Orthodox box."

I was deeply moved.

What began years earlier as a hobby with tools and piles of wood has evolved into a sacred calling to help others in our Jewish community.

Best of all: Dana no longer complains about the plethora of random bookshelves, tables and shtenders around the house.

At least mostly.

Jeffrey Korbman is the chief development officer of OU Israel who on occasion spends time with exotic lumber.