Faith and Trust

Rabbi Ben Herman , , ,

Do you trust that things will always work out in the end? I like to tell people that I can believe in this idea as a microcosm for myself but not for others. For me, God is in the details, helping us find our way. With that being said, it can be very difficult to see that when we are in a valley or at the bottom of a roller coaster.

In his chapter on bitachon, trust in God, Alan Morinis, who we were pleased to have as our synagogue last month, writes the following:

“But even assuming that you do have a sense of relationship with HaShem, how could you possibly lean trustingly on a God who allows a million children to be killed in the Holocaust, who sweeps 150,000 people to their death in a tsunami, who permits AIDS and smallpox and ALS (I’d add COVID), who rains fire on the innocent and allows the guilty to die comfortable and secure in their beds? If this is what our omniscient, omnipotent divinity does, then it seems you’d be crazy to trust that God. And perhaps you’d conclude that the sum total of the suffering, evil and madness in the world is sure proof that there really is no God at all.”[1]

When people suffer unbearable losses, they often turn in one of two directions: inward or outward. I want to share stories of people who first turned inward and then outward. First is Sherri Mandell. Her son Koby played hooky from school with his friend Yosef Ishran, going hiking in the Judean Desert and the young age of 13. They went missing and were later found having “been bound, stabbed and beaten to death with rocks.”[2] Sherri did not know where to turn; fortunately, her good friend Shira also happened to be a grief counselor. She shared that the infusion of spirituality into her life was one of her greatest surprises; that she was literally “hit on he head” with it, in the form of birds that kept bumping into her, dying on her doorstep, flying into her house and care, all of them as if coming from a message from Koby saying, “I am here.” This helped give her the strength to write The Blessings of the Broken Heart which received the National Jewish Book Award, and The Road to Resilience: from Courage to Celebration. When she realized the teachings of the inner yearnings of her heart were a comfort to many, Sherri turned outward, creating the Koby Mandel Foundation to help bereaved families. Sheri writes that “each moment is a miracle and an agony. A miracle that the world exists in all of its glory. An agony that this world is one of suffering and pain.”[3] In one of the most painful moments that I can ever imagine, the loss of a child, Sherri became a resource for others who are bereft and who have lost loved ones.

One also never knows the impact their story can make. Roz Rothstein told me that upon seeing the murder of baby Shalhevet Pas in pointblank range in March 2001 followed by the murder of Koby Mandell in May 2001, Roz and her husband Jerry saw no outrage within the Jewish community. They scheduled a meeting with the Los Angeles Jewish leaders for the Israel Emergency Alliance but saw that people would not commit to action. With friend Esther Renzer, they changed the name to Standwithus and hosted their first rally in July. Previously they had sent videos of Jihad for Kids to the Los Angeles media outlets with no response. Then September 11 came and the media started coming to their house. Standwithus set a mission based on two principles: fighting antisemitism and supporting Israel. Today it is an organization with 15 departments on 6 continents and has become known for its educational resources for middle school kids and older, the Title VI lawsuits it enacts against universities for their antisemitism and for being a nonpartisan organization. I used excerpts from the Haggadah that Jerry Rothstein created at my home Seder. Murders, as horrific and unjust as they are, can leave a legacy to fight for a safer environment for future generations.[4]

The third and final story I want to share is of Alan Morinis, a Rhodes Scholar who began in the film industry. After his business collapsed, Alan said, ““There was no way I could look at that except to see that I had a lot of responsibility for that, and the result was it kinda blew me open.”[5] Alan had two kids, a wife and a mortgage and needed to figure out a way to provide for his family. Rather than turning outward, he turned inward, seeking out Rabbi Yechiel Yitzhak Perr z”l and discovering through him an approach to ethical strengthening called Mussar, which had become diminished when many Yeshivot that taught it perished in the Holocaust.[6] Alan did not set out to found an institution but rather to get his life back on track. Later he saw it as an opportunity to be a resource onto others through the spiritual teachings ingrained in him, founding The Mussar Institute and writing books which would guide others through ethical refining middot, or spiritual characteristics in each and every soul.

How do we handle those times when it feels our world crashes down? It could be the death of a person, of an idea, or the way we were living our lives? Part of life is trusting the unpredictable and having faith that we are here for a reason. It involves putting ourselves out there, taking risks with no guarantees and having trust in the outcome. The Koby Mandell Foundation, like Standwithus, reliee primarily on the generosity of donors. The same is true for The Mussar Institute. I was amazed when Alan refused to set an honorarium, saying “Whatever the community can provide.”

When I’m having a rough time, or hitting a wall, I think of these examples, and they give me hope and inspiration. I realize that so much more is possible than we think-all it takes is fortitude, courage and a little faith in creating a better future. I can’t answer why I’ve seen babies dies nor can I answer why God took any of the loved ones who we are here today to remember. The losses of parents, siblings, uncles and aunts, grandparents and children leave us bereft and in grief, with questions we cannot answer and at times feelings of sadness, anger, and frustration. These are real feelings which we need to acknowledge-we all have them. At the same time, let us look towards those who give us the hope and the courage that enable us to continue each and every day. The greatest danger is that we let our grief and our anger stop us from moving forward and continuing to try to make our world a better place. Yizkor enables us to remember our loved ones-the lives they lived, the values they taught us and the experiences we shared with them. Not every experience was rosy and many of them might have been difficult, yet I hope that each of us will look back to the moments of joy that we shared and that it will cause us to smile, laugh, shed a few tears, center us and give us hope for our futureq. As we remember those from our past, so too may we bring those memories, those experiences, and those values into the present, as we join together as a community to pray on this final day of Passover.

[1] Alan Morinis, Everyday Holiness: The Jewish Spiritual Path of Mussar (Boulder, CO: Trumpeter Books, 2008), pg. 210.

[2] Matthew Kalman (20 June 2001). “Two Israeli teenagers stoned to death”. USA Today. Retrieved 24 March 2011.

[3] Michael Dickson and Dr. Naomi L. Baum Isresilience: What Israelis Can Teach the World Jerusalem: Gefen Publishing, 2020).

[4] Speech from Roz Rothstein, Standwithus Conference, March 18, 2026.

[5] https://jewishjournal.com/culture/arts/128469/selfie-spirituality/

[6] You can read more about it in his book Climbing Jacob’s Ladder

Inner Demons

Rabbi Ben Herman

God is a man of war-God is His name.[1] This verse from the Song at the Sea showed God’s power in this battle. Often, we think of war as an external thing. At times, however, war can be a battle against our inner demons. Like my favorite interpretation between Jacob and the angel, most of our wars are not against an external force but rather what is going on inside of us.

Dr Aaron T. Beck, founder of Cognitive Behavioral Therapy, identified that the best way to fight our negative thoughts is by acknowledging, understanding and processing them rather than battling them. Through modifying these negative, automatic thoughts he treated depression.

I think about this in light of Moses’ initial struggle to move forward. He seemed paralysed, the sea in front of him and the Egyptian flank behind him. God’s response was מה תצעק אלי? דבר אל בני ישראל וישאו

why are you crying out to me? Speak to the children of Israel and move forward!”[2] Moses was stuck as many of us are during difficult situations or through debilitating thoughts. He needed God’s help to push him forward.

The same is true for us. When we are stuck, or in the midst of uncertainty, at times we need to ask for help. This is so challenging to do yet it is necessary in order for us to take a step forward. It also takes time and relationship building to be able to move, as well as confidence that at times we will relapse or take a step back along the way and that’s ok. Moses needed to know and feel that God, the Man of War, was on his side and would help him lead the people across to the other side. Through having patience, understanding and knowing that we are not alone, we can conquer our inner demons, cut through the paralysis and break on through to the other side.

Of course, this is easier said than done and we need resources, especially when the pain feels too great to bear. Enter the medieval mystical poet, Jalāl al-Dīn Muḥammad Rūmī, who provides us with the poem The Guest House. I hope it will comfort you as it has for me when facing inner demons. This version is translated by Coleman Barks.

The Guest House

This being human is a guest house.
Every morning a new arrival.

A joy, a depression, a meanness,
some momentary awareness comes
as an unexpected visitor.

Welcome and entertain them all!
Even if they’re a crowd of sorrows,
who violently sweep your house
empty of its furniture,
still, treat each guest honorably.
He may be clearing you out
for some new delight.

The dark thought, the shame, the malice,
meet them at the door laughing,
and invite them in.

Be grateful for whoever comes,
because each has been sent
as a guide from beyond.

[1] Exodus 15:3

[2] Exodus 14:15

God is a man of war-God is His name.[1] This verse from the Song at the Sea showed God’s power in this battle. Often, we think of war as an external thing. At times, however, war can be a battle against our inner demons. Like my favorite interpretation between Jacob and the angel, most of our wars are not against an external force but rather what is going on inside of us.

Dr Aaron T. Beck, founder of Cognitive Behavioral Therapy, identified that the best way to fight our negative thoughts is by acknowledging, understanding and processing them rather than battling them. Through modifying these negative, automatic thoughts he treated depression.

I think about this in light of Moses’ initial struggle to move forward. He seemed paralysed, the sea in front of him and the Egyptian flank behind him. God’s response was מה תצעק אלי? דבר אל בני ישראל וישאו

why are you crying out to me? Speak to the children of Israel and move forward!”[2] Moses was stuck as many of us are during difficult situations or through debilitating thoughts. He needed God’s help to push him forward.

The same is true for us. When we are stuck, or in the midst of uncertainty, at times we need to ask for help. This is so challenging to do yet it is necessary in order for us to take a step forward. It also takes time and relationship building to be able to move, as well as confidence that at times we will relapse or take a step back along the way and that’s ok. Moses needed to know and feel that God, the Man of War, was on his side and would help him lead the people across to the other side. Through having patience, understanding and knowing that we are not alone, we can conquer our inner demons, cut through the paralysis and break on through to the other side.

Of course, this is easier said than done and we need resources, especially when the pain feels too great to bear. Enter the medieval mystical poet, Jalāl al-Dīn Muḥammad Rūmī, who provides us with the poem The Guest House. I hope it will comfort you as it has for me when facing inner demons. This version is translated by Coleman Barks.

The Guest House

This being human is a guest house.
Every morning a new arrival.

A joy, a depression, a meanness,
some momentary awareness comes
as an unexpected visitor.

Welcome and entertain them all!
Even if they’re a crowd of sorrows,
who violently sweep your house
empty of its furniture,
still, treat each guest honorably.
He may be clearing you out
for some new delight.

The dark thought, the shame, the malice,
meet them at the door laughing,
and invite them in.

Be grateful for whoever comes,
because each has been sent
as a guide from beyond.

[1] Exodus 15:3

[2] Exodus 14:15

The Pride Goes Before the Fall

Rabbi Ben Herman

          “My god, your pride will be the death of us all. Beware, it goeth before the fall!” This line, spoken by Aaron Burr to Alexander Hamilton in his play Hamilton is based on Proverbs לִפְנֵי־שֶׁ֥בֶר גָּא֑וֹן וְלִפְנֵ֥י כִ֝שָּׁל֗וֹן גֹּ֣בַהּ רֽוּחַ׃ “Pride goes before ruin; arrogance before failure.”[1] The short reading we did today begins between the episode of the golden calf and the carving of a new set of tablets.

          How could the Israelites succumb to this calf? The answer is simple: hubris. They believed that they were above the law that they had been given at Sinai 40 days earlier and could do what they wanted. They missed the test of patience and resilience in waiting for Moses’ return.

          A Hasidic Master, Meshullah Feibush Heller of Zhbarazh, write about this in chapter 2 of his work Yosher Divrei Emet. wrote as follows:

          “In reality, we humans are naturally ingrained by birth to have prideful hearts, as our Sages of blessed memory stated, ‘There are four prideful creatures, (the lion, ox, eagle, and human), and the human is more prideful than all of them.’[2]

          The Blessed One granted me a credible parable related to this. Let’s say we’re travelling on the road in a wagon and we fall asleep. The wagon driver is accompanying us and drives up a high mountain. But when the driver reaches the top of the mountain the path is flat, for we have already passed the upward slope. If we were to wake up thereafter and someone were to tell us that we’re on a mountain, we wouldn’t believe them because we can’t see any evidence to that effect. If we had initially witnessed the slope we’d ascended, we would know the truth. But now that the road is flat, on what grounds can we possibly conclude that we’re on a mountaintop? How can this reality be made known to us? Subsequently, when we descend the opposite slope, which dips into a valley, we will discern that we had been on a mountain.

          In reality, our pride is like a high mountain. If we could feel and truly know that our heart is growing prideful within us, we would certainly discern that we are experiencing pridefulness and hubris and that we’ve ascended a mountain. But we were born on this mountain, which is our pride…which is why it seems to us that we have no pride and that we’re not on a mountain at all. How can we possibly discern this to be the case if we don’t fully descend to the foot of the mountain by habituating ourselves to surrender and humility in heart and deed-and especially in heart-so that the truth will become known to us?”

          A Hasidic ideal is בטול היש, nullification of the ego. The example from our tradition is that the golden calf was burnt, grounded into powder, strewn into water and drunk by the Israelites.[3] The very thing in which Israel took pride gets destroyed and consumed by them.

This does not mean self-effacement. Rather it is recognizing the things that we do not control, that the “I” in the story, is not nearly as significant as we give it credit for. That way, when unfortunate things befall us, our world doesn’t collapse on us but rather we have the resilience to continue. As Mona Fishbane said, “It’s time to stop being the victim and become the author of your own life.”[4]

When we are on top of the mountain, let us remember that we can descend. When we on at the bottom of the mountain, let us remember that there will always be an ascent later on. The journey might be long and bumpy like a roller-coaster, but if we stay with it, we will merit seeing many vistas over the course of our lifetimes.

[1] Proverbs 16:18

[2] Exodus Rabbah 23:13; Bavli Hagigah 13b

[3] Exodus 32:24

[4] Told to me at the Rabbinic Training Institute 2017

Sacrifices: The Offerings From the Heart

Rabbi Ben Herman

     With Appreciation to My Mentor Rabbi Mitch Chefitz z”l   

  What does it mean to sacrifice something? According to the on-line Miriam Webster Dictionary it means one of the following

1: an act of offering to a deity something precious

Especially: the killing of a victim on an altar

2: the act of giving up or losing something of value for the sake of something else

          I’m going to put 1 aside and focus on 2. What is the “something else” for which we sacrifice? In Judaism it is getting close to God, לקרב or קירוב, which was talked about in last week’s Bat Mitzvah speech. Something of value from one’s flock is freely given in order to strengthen one’s relationship with the Holy One.

          Parshat Tzav discusses the same 5 korbanot, or sacrifices, that we discussed last week with VaYikra. I’d like to focus on a specific verse from the guilt offering, or asham.

          “With loaves of leavened bread he should bring his offering, with his feast thanksgiving peace-offering.”[1] Now leavened bread might be the last thing on our minds right now. There is a story I learned from my teacher, Rabbi Mitch Chefitz z”l, who learned it from Rabbi Shlomo Carlebach z”l who would often spend time at Mitch and Walli’s home in Miami. It is entitled “The Baker and the Janitor.”

Not all Jews left Spain after the expulsion in 1492. Many converted to Catholicism and remained. Some converted only on the surface but observed Jewish customs in secret.

Among them were Joseph, a baker, and his wife Maria (Miriam). They left Spain and settled in Safed, Israel.

Joseph was a knowledgeable and diligent baker, but a simple and ignorant Jew. He desired earnestly to learn Jewish practice and serve the Holy One in a Jewish manner. He attended services regularly. One Saturday morning he heard the Rabbi deliver a teaching that changed his life.

The Rabbi taught about the implements within the Tent of Meeting – the Ark of the Covenant, the Altar, the Menorah – and lastly the Table for the Showbread. Every week the Cohen (the priest) put fresh bread on the table.

Joseph returned home from the synagogue ecstatic. “I know what God wants,” he told Miriam. “He wants bread!”

The next week he chose his two best loaves of Shabbat bread to bring to the synagogue on Friday afternoon. The synagogue was empty. Joseph approached the aron kodesh – the Holy Ark – with trepidation, unsure if what he was about to do was appropriate. “Holy One,” he said aloud, “I’ve learned you desire bread. I’ve learned that every week fresh loaves were brought before you. I am just a baker. I don’t know Jewish law. But I do know how to bake bread, and these loaves are the best of the batch that just came from the oven. I want to give them to you.” With that said, Joseph opened the curtain of the ark and deposited the loaves. He closed the curtain and returned home to Miriam’s Shabbat table.

That night he was filled with apprehension. Had he behaved correctly? Had he offered the loaves properly? Would his gift be accepted?

He did not know that soon after he left the synagogue, the janitor entered and approached the ark. The janitor was crying. He said, “Holy One, I don’t complain much. But my wife is hungry. I’m hungry. The Rabbi doesn’t pay me enough to provide food for an entire week. Shabbat is coming. We have no bread to put on the table. Can You help me, please?”

With that, on impulse, the janitor opened the ark and saw – two loaves of bread! They were still warm when he took them. He closed the curtain, backed up as he bowed again and again, saying, “Thank You, thank You, thank You.” He returned home with the loaves to celebrate Shabbat with his wife.

The next morning the baker came to the synagogue anxious to know if his offering had been accepted. Imagine his joy when the time came for the Torah reading and the ark was opened. The loaves were gone! The Holy One had accepted his gift!

Now – if our story ended here, that would be enough. But the story continues. This pageant was played out the next week, and the week after – loaves deposited, loaves received – week after week for years.

At last came a week when the baker, much older now, came with his loaves on a Friday afternoon and didn’t realize he was not alone. The Rabbi, now an old Rabbi, heard the baker and observed him open the curtain of the Ark to put in the loaves of bread.

“What are you doing?” the Rabbi asked. The baker told him he had been doing this for years because it was what the Holy One wanted, and that every week his offering had been received.

“Nonsense! Let’s step aside and see what’s going on.”

After some time, the janitor, now stooped with age, came forward to the Holy Ark, “Holy One,” he began. “Again I need your help…” He opened the ark and withdrew the loaves. “Thank You,” he said, backing up. “Thank You, thank You, thank You…”

“What are you doing?” the Rabbi interrupted him.

The surprised janitor said, “Every week the Holy One provides me two loaves for Shabbat.”

“You idiot! It isn’t the Holy One! It’s this baker here who puts the bread into the ark.”

At that moment the door of the synagogue burst open and an emissary of the great Rabbi Isaac Luria stood framed in the light. “The Master wants to see you right away,” he said. “He wants you to come with me now.”

All three followed the emissary to the study hall of the Ari – that great Lion of Faith– Isaac Luria. Luria said first to the Rabbi, “It’s time for you to die. Go home, make your confessions, and prepare yourself.”

“But why?”

“In truth you were scheduled to die years ago. But because you initiated this ritual of the baker and the janitor, you were permitted to live. Each week the Holy One derived great joy from this process of giving and receiving, but now that you’ve brought it to an end, there’s no longer reason for your life to continue.”

The Ari turned to the baker. “As for you, continue to choose the best loaves on Friday afternoon, but you no longer need to bring them to synagogue. You and Miriam together bring them to the home of the janitor and his wife and present the loaves to them. But know this – you are not placing them in the hands of the janitor. You are placing them in the hands of God.”

He turned to the janitor. “And you, receive the loaves in gratitude as if you were receiving them from the hands of God.”

For years after, the baker continued to present loaves to the Holy One, and the janitor received loaves from the Holy One saying over and over again, “Thank You, thank You, thank You.”

This is the ultimate act of sacrifice-getting close to God. May each of us find ways over Passover to get closer to God through the offerings of our hearts.

[1] Leviticus 7:13

Israel Trip Blog Day 4: What Next?

Rabbi Ben Herman , , ,

Our last day of the trip began by visiting a Palestinian Education Bookshop in East Jerusalem. Out of all the Palestinian speakers, Mahmoud Muna best spoke my language. He began by talking about the fragmentation of 5 different types of Palestinians: Inside Israel, East Jerusalem, West Bank, Gaza and Palestinian Disapora. Of the first 4, each has a different ID card issues by Israel, and there are different license plates as well. What made Mahmoud compelling is he talked about the heinous, unacceptable and scary nature of October 7 (Khaled on Day 2 went even further by saying he understood Israel needing to respond for weeks or even a couple months, just not for 2.5 years). Mahmoud also said one need not use the academic jargon (occupation, apartheid, ethnic cleansing, genocide) but then one must find another term to describe what happened. Mahmoud and his nephew Ahmed were arrested by Israeli police but after finding no crime against them they were released. I bought two books from Mahmoud: Daybreak in Gaza from Gazan writers after October 7 and Life Under Occupation by a Spanish journalist who travelled throughout the West Bank and Gaza. It’s important to hear others’ narratives and stories even when one disagrees with the facts or things which are being conveyed.

We returned to the hotel and heard from Tal Becker, who indicated that one can basically know nothing for certain (i.e. did Israel deliberately cause famine in Gaza? To get an answer one needs access to the Israeli Cabinets’ wartime remarks). Tal’s words were very emotional: that he had come up with a plan to kill/martyr his children should Hamas reach his house. Tal’s main theory was that western, liberal values were viewed as the solution to all of Israel’s problems, just as Adam thought Eve, his Ezer K’negdo, was the answer to all his problems. Romantic love/romanticization looks for simple solutions; being in the therapy room is where you work things out in all their complexity.

We had small groups throughout the 4 days to process what we heard and how we will bring this information to our home communities (which I am still working on). Here is our group picture from the end of the trip.

My last few hours were spent frantically shopping and exploring the Shuk, Ben Yehuda and Nahalat Sheva. On my way back to the hotel I ran by this relatively new museum, which I hope to see during a future trip.

Thank you for reading. I am open to discussing my adventures with any of you in the coming weeks.

Israel Trip Blog Day 3: Neutral Ground/No Man’s Land

Rabbi Ben Herman , , ,

On the third day of the trip we had to meet on neutral ground: a Greek Orthodox monastery outside Jericho. The Palestinians we met with could not get visas to enter Israel, and it was not viewed as safe for us to meet in an Area A city like Jericho (to find out more about Areas A, B and C please look up the Oslo Accords). The monastery grounds were beautiful.

We met with a Palestinian social scientist who shared with us that the younger generation of Palestinians are more progressive and pragmatic than their parents. 2/3 of them want either a civil and democratic state or a secular state as opposed to a religious state under Sharia law. Unfortunately over 50 percent of them are unemployed, a statistic that goes up to 85 percent in Gaza, and the average job is only 3,000 shekels (approx. $1000) a month.

We then met with Father Jack, a Greek Catholic priest in Taybe, the sole remaining Christian city in the West Bank. Father Jack talked about the hilltop youth coming through disrupting the olive harvest, their taking over sheep populations and displacing Palestinian farmers and their burning Taybe. With these disruptions, Taybe cannot harvest their olives, their main source of income. He said “As a Christian I don’t have enemies; my enemy is the policy, not the human being.”

Next we went to the American Colony in East Jerusalem. We met with Sundus El-Khot, the first Palestinian to qualify for the Jerusalem municipal government. As a Jerusalem Palestinian, Sundus is a resident; she cannot vote in Knesset elections but she can in municipal ones, and she rallied Palestinians, amidst difficulties, to help support her. Most Jewish and Muslim politicans did not-the former felt she was better with the Arab List or they would put her so low on their list that she’d be an “Arab ornament”; the latter felt why bother with these elections. Sundus’ main line was “I just want to live peacefully, respectfully and with dignity-I’m not a politician.”

I missed part of a session to meet up with former Mosaic Law Rabbi Yossie Goldman, who gave me a copy of his new book Just Do It!

At the end of the day we went to Feel Beit Cafe on the Seam Line (the line of separation between West and East Jerusalem in 1947-48 before the Green Line was established in 1949). The Cafe is a joint venture between Israelis and Palestinians. We heard from the founders and saw a show there.

Israel Trip Blog Day 2: Two People One Land

Rabbi Ben Herman

Today started with visitng the Jewish Agency for Israel (in Hebrew called the Sochnut) the largest Jewish non-profit in the world. We heard a panel of 3 Israelis. One is head of J Street in Israel, another wants nothing to do with Palestinians and the third was the vice chair of the World Zionist Congress and the head of Mercaz Yizhar Hess.

We studied Israel’s Declaration of Independance and we met in the first room where the government of Israel met.

Following the discussion and lunch we went near the Gush Etzion Junction to the headquarters of Roots, an organization that I brought to Mosaic Law in 2022 which focuses on shared dialogue and understanding between Israelis and Palestinians.

I can only share the speakers who gave me permission. One of them was Khaled Abu-Awwad, co-founder of Roots, who had a heart-rendering story that was difficult to hear. I am grateful to Khaled and to the other Palestinians I met for their embrace of non-violence resistance.

That evening we met with Israeli Rabbinical Assembly colleagues at Beit Ticho to ask them questions about their work (if any) with Palestinians. I decided to walk back on my own to the hotel. This sign which I saw, Ahavat Hinam (full love-as opposed to Sinat Hinam-baseless hatred) said it all to me.

Israel Trip Blog: Day 1 Beginning the Journey

Rabbi Ben Herman , ,

I I am on a rabbinical assembly trip with Encounter. I last was with Encounter as a rabbinical school student in Israel, spending 2 days in Bethlehem and staying with a Palestinian family. 

This trip is different as it began in West Jerusalem with Israelis. After speaking about the goals of the trip, we went to the Center for North African Jewry.

We heard from Israelis from three different walks of life: one of whom was a founder of Smoli Emunah (the halachic left), another was a speaker for Hartman and the Tikvah Fund and a third

is the director of the Israel Center of the San Francisco Jewish Federation, Barak Lozoon. In addition to sharing their stories, these 3 shared how their perspectives have changed since October 7.

Next we heard from a woman from Efrat and Rabbi Benny Lau from Jerusalem

about their experiences working with encounter-and how they balance being a major general and having 6 children in the Israeli army respectively and their reaching out to Palestinians. 

Finally we heard personal stories and a beautiful concert from the Jerusalem Youth Chorus

a group of Israeli and Palestinian students working together to express themselves through music. Out of respect for the participants, who have been attacked by BDS, we did not photograph them.

There are many questions, not all of which will be answered.

Tomorrow we will be headed to the Gush Etzion area

Ran Gvili z”l

Rabbi Ben Herman ,

843 days, 12 hours, 6 minutes. That is what the clock on Hostage Square stopped at after Ron Gvili’s body was found and returned to Israel. 700 Israeli soldiers and volunteers participated in the search for Ran, including a major who had been wounded and lost an eye on October 7th and Idan Ademi, one of Israel’s leading singers and Fauda military hero who was very badly injured during the war. They opened 149 graves and the 150th was Ron (interesting side note-that’s the Gematria for רן). People were excited for the closure this brought. As soon as it happened, I removed the hostage chair that we have had in the front of our synagogue for over 2 years.

          In Israel they said עד החוטף האחרון “until the last hostage.” This is why we kept the chair and kept saying the prayer until the last hostage was returned. This is the first time since 2014 that there are no Israeli bodies in Gaza.

I remember in 2014 having just married Karina and attending a Sephardi synagogue in the same building as Chabbat in University City. The sermon was in Hebrew. I recoiled in horror hearing about 3 teenage backpackers who were abducted and taken to Gaza-later to be returned in body bags. Since Operation Protective Edge we have always had a body in Gaza. What a momentous moment to no longer have that.

          Yet it is a bittersweet moment. Of the 251 hostages who went into Gaza on October 7, 40+ of them came in live and came out in body bags, murdered by their captors. We cannot forget the potential that was lost of Ariel and Kfir Bibas, Hersh Goldberg-Polin and Eden Yerushalmi. At the same time, we must take a moment to honor the achievement of something many of us, including myself, did not think was possible-the return of the 20 remaining live hostages as well as of all the bodies. Jacob said to Joseph, אל נא תקברני במצרים-“Do not let me lie in Egypt, that place of constriction.” We would have preferred all these hostages return alive yet we must mention that there is honor in those who did not make it being brought to Israel for proper burial.

          Please rise and join with me in saying the שהחיינו, marking this historic moment of no more hostages.

Bringing Forth Light, Casting Out Darkness

Rabbi Ben Herman , , ,

          Our community has been in mourning this past week. The murder in cold blood of 15 people attending Hanukkah by the Sea in Bondi Beach. A father and a son, united in their being inspired by ISIS and in their hatred of the Jews, opened fire. We are blessed by the Syrian-Australian Muslim Ahmed al Ahmed, who tackled one of the gunman, wrestled the gun from his grip and turned it on him, thereby saving this from becoming an even bloodier affair. As Australia’s Prime Minister Anthony Albanese asserted, “At a moment where we have seen evil perpetrated, he shines out as an example of the strength of humanity.”[1] Without hesitation he disarmed the terrorist, saving people’s lives because it was the right thing to do. Ahmed is a modern Maccabee.

Unfortunately, some were not so fortunate. Eli Schlanger, brother of Bakersfield Rabbi Shmuly Schlanger, was murdered. Arsen Ostrovsky, a survivor of October 7, the incoming head of the Australia, Israel & Jewish Affairs Council and brother-in-law of Rabbi Menachem Creditor, was seriously wounded in the attack. Members of our community have checked in with their parents and cousins to ensure that they’re ok, including our congregant Jonathan Lightman and Julian Robinson, whose parents were at the event as well as our former Education Director Orit Morgenstern’s daughter Lior.

Bondi Beach is another example of Jews being targeted for being Jews. You do not need me to recount all the ways our people has been attacked over the past year. What would be more helpful is to remind us what Hanukkah is about and how we need to respond to attacks like the one at Bondi Beach.

Hanukkah is the holiday about standing up to evil. The Maccabees, despite being few in number, fought the Syrian Greeks and prevailed using grit and guerilla warfare. They refused to give up their traditions. This Hanukkah we need to emulate their example. Rather than despairing and surrendering, we must fight for who we are and for what we value.

Haviv Rettig-Gur, with whom I went to high school with, had an amazing podcast “Miracles in the Dark. A Response to Bondi.”[2] In his podcast Haviv referenced the Haftarah from Aharei Mot where the prophet Amos says הלא כבני כושיים אתם לי בני ישראל נאם ה-הלא את-ישראל העליתי מארץ מצרים ופלישתים מכפתור וארם מקיר-“Aren’t you to Me like the children of the Cushites, O Israel? -the words of Gd-have I not brought up Israel from the land of Egypt, the Philistines from Caphtor and Aram from Kir?”[3] In other words, don’t think you’re so special, Israel. You are not the only ones who have been redeemed. Haviv’s understanding is Amos is saying to Israel, “your chosenness is a responsibility and not a pedestal. There are other redemption stories, and they are divine as well. Failure and success are a choice.”[4]

What choices should we make at this moment? For me it was clear as day that this of all years I needed to go to a Chabad Menorah Lighting. I would not let those who seek our destruction win. They are terrorizing us precisely to stop public gatherings. Hanukkah is about פרסומי ניסא, publicizing the miracle, and that is precisely what needs to be done. The “be a man in the street and a Jew in your home” of Judah Leib Gordon never worked for me-though another time I’ll tell you how that line in a roundabout way led me to become a rabbi.

As we continue with the Festival of Lights, I urge each and every one of us to choose the path that will allow our light to shine forth. If we truly feel that we have a special light with a miraculous glow, then we must come together to shine it forth especially at times of darkness and despair. We need to do our part to carry our torch, or our Hanukkah candle, forward, bringing forth gratitude for life and a joy de verve each and every day. As said by the Chabad rebbe mirroring the words of Bahya ibn Pekuda, “Even a little light can cast out great darkness.”[5] May our light shine forth banishing the evil forces that surround us.

[1] Millions are pledged to a Syrian Australian man who stopped a gunman and became a national hero

[2] Ask Haviv Anything, Episode 67.

[3] Amos 9:7

[4] Ask Haviv Anything, Episode 67.

[5] Ibid.