The "Holy" Aspect of Jewish Peoplehood

Parshat Nitzavim

by Rabbi Avi Billet

The biggest news story of the week (other than the Iran deal) was about a clerk in Kentucky who has a fundamentalist viewpoint on understanding the Bible.

 Regardless of one’s view of the story, some of the reaction I have seen in social media includes a clip from the West Wing, in which Martin Sheen’s character asks a similar-minded (to the Kentucky clerk) person a series of questions asking if certain fundamentalist views of stoning and putting to death from the Bible ought to also be listened to since “they’re in the Bible.”

 Watching this narrative play out, I am grateful not only that the Torah was given to the Jewish people – and not to people who understand it on its surface level – but that we also have an oral tradition that helps us understand the parts of the Torah that are difficult to understand. We know that the death penalty, for example, was hardly ever carried out because of our abhorrence of violence, as well as all the technicalities that otherwise prevent a death sentence being issued.

 We know that the Torah’s rules were given to the Jewish people, and with the exception of the Noahide laws, they are not binding on people of other faiths.

 People of faiths that do not observe Rosh Hashana this Sunday night (Bamidbar 29:1) don’t have to follow the rules of kosher eating, or Sabbath, or any other laws that were established in God’s Torah for the children of Avraham, Yitzchak, and Yaakov.

 And this point is established very clearly in the fourth verse of our parsha, when Moshe reminds the people that they are being brought into the covenant, “He is establishing you as His nation, so that He will be a God to you, just as He promised you, and as He swore to your ancestors, Avraham, Yitzchak and Yaakov.”

 A simple question could be asked. Why is this wonderful promise of a covenant with God prefaced by the terrible rebuke of chapter 28? Why is there so much warning and punishment facing this nation, especially if God loved the forefathers and wants their descendants to be His special nation?

 In the Or HaChaim’s view, the answer is really quite simple. If you know the repercussions of your deeds, and how devastating they can be, you’ll have no interest in rebelling against His Godliness. You will always maintain the connection with Him.

 Or HaChaim offers a second reason as well. There is a reason that God wants this nation. Because at this point, under Moshe’s leadership, the nation is identified as an “Am Kadosh,” a holy nation. This nation, the descendants of God’s beloved Avraham, Yitzchak and Yaakov, have the capacity to achieve a holiness that is unmatched in God’s eyes, by any other nation.

 Using the language Yosef uses to explain to his brothers why his being sold to Egypt was actually good, Or HaChaim suggests that the rebuke’s strong language is merely to affirm for Israel that they are God’s nation. Without the Rebuke, one day a person will commit a mild infraction and the next day he’ll commit a severe one, and each slip will take Israelites away from being the “Adat HaKedusha” – the community of Holiness. 

The message Or HaChaim concludes with is that we must look out for one another to create a communal mind that prevents sinning. This is what helps us create a nation of destiny. And this, he explains, is only for our own good, to help us survive as a people.

 It is a shame that too often what unites us is tragedy and suffering. How many people were numbed by the terrible car crash in the Catskills on Monday, that took the lives of three wonderful people?

 We have our Torah, we learn it, we study it, we connect with it in the deepest of ways. And we must connect with our fellow religionists, not only in times of tragedy, but also in good times, when the spirit all around is upbeat.

 We all have different views of the world, and there are times when we disagree. But the lesson we can take at this time of year is that we have so much more in common than not. And our commonality begins with Avraham, Yitzchak and Yaakov, and ends in the place we all agree to tap into our shared experiences as their descendants.

 The more united we are, the more holiness we can achieve. It is our learning and our dedication to what we do that helps us become this holy nation, through proper understanding of the Torah and through the actions that define who we are.

On Holocaust Remembrance Day

This was my sermon this past Shabbos. Some thoughts on the Holocaust, its aftermath, and on our responsibilities as the Jewish people to avoid religious extremism...

Shmini: DOING WHAT GOD WANTS

Rabbi Avi Billet

In the early 1950s the Israeli Government decided that the 27^th of Nissan would be designated as Holocaust Remembrance Day. Out of respect for Shabbos, when that date falls on the weekend, as it does this year – tomorrowbeing the day – it is moved either forward to Monday or back to Thursday, so that the preparations for or memorial services will not cross over into Shabbos. This is the law in Israel – respecting Shabbos. The law doesn't mandate observance of Shabbos the way we practice. But it respects Shabbos.

            

No words or thoughts can soften the blow of the toll the Holocaust had on the worldwide Jewish communities, and the impact it still has. The numbers remain unfathomable. The declining overall Jewish birthrate is not replenishing the loss, assimilation is making things even worse, and from a certain perspective, Jewish identity and knowledge is declining overall.

From a different perspective, there are positive developments as well. The Jewish population in Israel has – ironically – reached the 6 million mark, surpassing the Jewish population of the US, which is around 5.5 million. Jews are active and prominent in many respectable fields of influence – politics, science and medicine, Hollywood, world of finance.

These last facts are often fodder for the spewings of anti-Semites who claim the Protocols of the Elders of Zion is not a forgery – they would advocate for thinking people to believe there is an active effort and network of Jews worldwide to take over the world.

Another side of the coin: We have sadly gotten to a point where Jewish comedians make jokes about the Holocaust. I see articles about poor and needy Holocaust survivors who are being neglected in the US and in Israel. And a self-proclaimed denier of the Holocaust, Mahmoud Ahmadinejad, is given a chance to speak at the United Nations General Assembly.

We live in strange times. 

It is troubling to read or hear people, especially Jewish people, assigning blame for either why the Holocaust happened, or which Jews were responsible for not doing more. We are human – we do not know and will not know why personal or national tragedy befalls member or the entirety of Our People. 

A number of years ago I read a transcribed speech of Rabbi Moshe Shternbuch – in the book Reb Moshe Speaks, in which he blamed the Zionists – the secular living in Israel, who did not want an influx of European Jews in Palestine – for not doing enough to save Jews. I have seen similar accusations hurled at Chassidic Rebbes and Roshei Yeshiva for telling their constituents that this too will pass—stay, there is no reason to run away. [The troubling conflict they faced is analyzed here] The truth is, who knew? Who really could have foreseen what Hitler's Nazi Machine could do? Who really understood the gravity of the Final Solution.

Don't blame Jews for the Holocaust! Blame the Nazis for the Holocaust! And blame an indifferent world for ignoring those who escaped and reported, and for turning a blind eye to what was going on!

In his recent visit to Israel, President Obama was addressed by Rabbi Israel Meir Lau at Yad Vashem. Rabbi Lau told a personal memory of Rabbi Herschel Schacter, father of Rabbi JJ Schacter, who happened to pass away the day before Obama's visit to Yad Vashem, of his role as the chaplain for the US Army who liberated Buchenwald, where young Lulek Lau was liberated as a child at age 8. Then he spoke of a member of the military that he met 68 years after the war, who apologized to him saying, "We were too late!" And Rabbi Lau asked of President Obama not to be too late in standing up for what is right for the safety and well being of the Jewish people in Israel and around the world.

 The Pasuk towards the end of Va'eschanan says - דברים פרק ו - יח) וְעָשִׂיתָ הַיָּשָׁר וְהַטּוֹב בְּעֵינֵי יְקֹוָק לְמַעַן יִיטַב לָךְ וּבָאתָ וְיָרַשְׁתָּ אֶת הָאָרֶץ הַטֹּבָה אֲשֶׁר נִשְׁבַּע יְקֹוָק לַאֲבֹתֶיךָ: The formula is quite simple. Do what God wants – what is ישר וטוב in His eyes, and good things will happen.

As we learn from Paroh, who was perhaps a messenger of God who chose to take things to the extreme he did, it is the oppressor that is to blame for turning the oppressed into the victims. Blaming Jews for the Holocaust is disgraceful. We blame Nazis and indifferent passive anti-Semites.

However, what we can do is look at the precedent of Tanakh and see that there are many warnings of what will happen to the Jewish people if they choose not to do what God wants. Read the Tokhachas of Bechukosai and Ki Savo, and some things become abundantly clear – as they have been played out for the Jewish people generation after generation – like a script followed expertly by its performers, villains and heroes, persecutors and victims.

Are there guarantees that good will always be the result or that bad will never be the result? No. We do not know the ways of God. But certainly a reasonable formula for good tidings and outcomes, as per the Torah's description, is doing what God wants.

This morning we read of the dedication of the Mishkan on the Yom HaShmini – when all the parts of the animals to be burned were placed on the Mizbeach, all was set, leaving God to bring the anticipated fireworks. And did He deliver! when a fire descended from the heavens and consumed all items fated for burning.

Everyone present knew this was a heavenly fire. The Midrash Agada says when the people saw the fire consuming the Korban parts, נפלו על פניהם ואמרו שירה, על אותה השעה הוא אומר רננו צדיקים בה' לישרים נאוה תהלה (תהלים לג א'.  They knew they were in the presence of God, that nothing could go wrong, because they were doing everything right.

The fire that consumed Nadav and Avihu, on the other hand, was clearly a punishing fire. And why? With the exception of the very minority opinion that says the deaths of Nadav and Avihu were preordained and were necessary for the sanctification of the Mishkan, most everyone tries to nail the coffin, so to speak, on where they went wrong.

[There are many opinions: they were מורה הלכה בפני רבן, they were jealous of  kavod given to Moshe and Aharon, they acted on their own without  consulting with anyone, They drank wine before they did their avodah, they weren’t wearing the proper bigdei kehunah, they didn’t perform רחיצת ידים ורגלים, They didn’t have children, they were not married (may have even tried to woo Agunos, alternatively they caused women to be Agunos, all thinking they might marry the two most eligible bachelors), they were supposed to bring their ketores on the inside mizbeach and they brought it on firepans instead, their deaths were punishment to their father for his role in Chet HaEgel, they may have been acting as non-kohanim, as private citizens, using their kohen-status for access, but not because this was considered a proper avodah, they didn't trust in the possibility of a heavenly fire, as did their father before them (thank you to Rabbi Josh Flug for making me aware of some of these)]

Even the Torah says they brought an אש זרה, a strange fire, that God had not commanded. That God chose to make that or any of the suggested reasons a death sentence is His business, but it is a reflection of the fact that they were not doing what God wanted.

We can not give answers for the Holocaust. But in these days post the Holiday of Redemption we can ask why the Redemption has not come? Perhaps part of the answer was and continues to be – עד ביאת גואל צדק – that as a united Jewish People, there are too many imperfections in our fulfillment of God's will.

What God wants is laid out clearly in the middle of Devarim Chapter 10, and Micha chapter 6 verse 8 – it's the last pasuk in the Haftorah of Parshas Balak. Look them up and know those pesukim well. "God asks of you only that you remain in awe of God your Lord, so that you will follow all His paths and love Him, serving God your Lord with all your heart and with all your soul keeping his commandments and decrees that I am de\scribing to you today." "He has told you, O man, what is good, and what the Lord demands of you; but to do justice, to love loving-kindness, and to walk discreetly/humbly with your God."

These verse mostly address the responsibilities we have between Man and God. And between Man and Man, which is a reflection of what it means to be a Godly person, we have many of the rules which are spelled out in Parshat Kedoshim, which we will read in a few weeks.

And we need to contrast all these with what God surely does not want:

Neglect of the Torah and mitzvos on the one hand, and neglect of fellow Man on the other. Sinas Chinam continues to plague our people.

I read an article on ynet written by a Masorti rabbi – Israeli Conservative – who wasdescribing a more liberal-leaning Orthodox rabbi of the Tzohar group incomplimentary terms, and he even made some valid points about how Halakha views people, that I struggle with – while he was really bashing Orthodoxy and its adherence to more traditional, rather then liberal, interpretation of Halakha.

On the other side, I read an editorial in a right-wing Orthodox magazine, in which the author spoke of the battle between Orthodoxy and non-Orthodoxy, which he believes will be won by the Orthodox.

Are these what God wants? Bashing, name calling, a battle?

In the aftermath of the latest election in Israel, there is an uproar over the draft of the Chareidim. Some of the arguments I have read against the draft – from the Chareidi side – would be funny if they didn't mean them seriously.

From the UK edition of Hamodia [as quoted here]: "Our Hashkofoh obligates us to demand state support for Torah and chessed mosdos, not out of concern that they won't be able to continue to provide vital services to the weaker sectors, but to provide a merit for the government, which is so in need of Heavenly mercy. Even if the government doesn't appreciate and understand the workings of midoh keneged midoh, its support for such institutions will serve its interests."

One wonders if the writer has taken any notice of the reality of our world.

The theological arguments promoting a learning only culture and a government-entitlement culture, in which men do not work or participate in society are anti-thetical to the Torah.

ששת ימים תעבד! Work! Teach your child a trade! And find time to learn when you've fulfilled your work obligations.

Every Bible hero and every Talmudic master had a trade. Some were wealthy some were dirt poor. But they worked.

And when push literally came to shove, the Biblical heroes bore arms and fought – for themselves, their families and their nation. Was Avraham a military man? Was Yaakov – the Ish Tam Yoshev Ohalim? Was Moshe a fighter? Was Shmuel Hanavi a warrior? No! But they fought when they needed to!

Who were Yehoshua, Otniel ben Knaz, Ehud ben Geirah, Gideon, Yiftach, Shimshon, Shaul, David? Great leaders and warriors, famous for their military accomplishments!

I read another article entitled " Israeli Rabbi Causes Uproar By Post On Facebook Saying He Shaves During Sefira". The article explains that he is a mohel – according to halakha a mohel can get a haircut and shave for a bris during sefirah. But that's beside the point! An UPROAR? Over a Facebook post about a minhag? The mourning of the sefirah period is meant to be a reminder of why Rabbi Akiva's students died – because lo nahagu kavod zeh lazeh. Perhaps Rabbi Akiva was forced to realize that V'ahavta L'reiakha Kamokha is such an important principle of the Torah as a lesson learned from the way his students respected, or didn't respect, one another, and the fact that they died because of their behavior. The mourning feeling reminds us of this. And people getting in a tizzy over one person's interpretation of a minhag misses the point entirely. Mind your own business and mourn over what could have been had Rabbi Akiva's students survived and taught Torah to the world.

Let us reject religious extremism – in the pro religion or in the anti-religion (those whose "religion" it is to mock religion) side. People need to be educated and need to make educated choices. Some choose to make halakha important in their lives. Some choose not to. And some don't know anything about it. And some, to quote Groucho Marx in Horse Feathers, say "whatever it is, I'm against it." 

A halakhic life is not yet in the cards for everyone. But respecting those who choose it, or who choose not to have it, must be in the cards for everyone.

            

The first section of our parsha demonstrated the way to do God's will, in which people fell on their faces in praise of God. The second section, Nadav and Avihu's tale, and its aftermath, demonstrates an admittedly extreme measure of what can happen when people go against what God has said. Certainly the Holocaust was an extreme measure. And 2000 years of exile is also an extreme measure. But the ways of God are often hidden from us.

            

We must strive, as much and as best as we are able, to do what God wants. It is our job to be tolerant of others, to share our knowledge when possible, and to be good examples. But we can not let extremism take over who we are! Of course people must stand for something! But if what they stand for is harmful to a society, or makes life unbearable for others who live in that society – either because they make demands or don't contribute to any cause from which they benefit – this is wrong.

No ethical religion mandates such a policy, and it should be shunned and rejected. Living in a society means contributing to it, noticeably, tangibly, and in a manner that indicates clearly that I believe in this, because this is where my life is. It means being tolerant of others, letting people live their lives, and being a model citizen. Respecting the law of the land – advocating for change through the proper channels when necessary – but abiding by the law while it is the law. [Footnote – see Women of the Wall. - who are welcome to pray at the Wall, but are just asked to follow the law]

The Law in Israel, for example, respects Shabbos on Holocaust, Memorial and Independence Days.

For a Jew being the model Jew ideally means following those texts in Devarim and Micha to round out one's religious experience vis a vis God. And with regard to one's fellow man it means respecting the other person, showing compassion, empathy, being a good listener and doing God's work - looking out for others honestly, with dignity, doing our part to help bring about the Final Redemption.

The Non-Mitzvah of Tzitzis

Parshat Shlach

by Rabbi Avi Billet

In his introduction to the book of Bamidbar, Nachmanides posits that the majority of the mitzvot of this book were commandments for the specific time period of wilderness travel and would not be applicable once they reached the land of Canaan/Israel.

Last week's one-time consecration of the Levites is a classic example of a mitzvah in this category.

There are mitzvot that exist past the wilderness period, of course, some of which fit into a classification of "obligatory if you make a specific choice." For example, according to the Sefer HaChinukh there are 10 commandments incumbent upon a person who chooses to become a Nazir. Taking on Nezirut status is by no means obligatory – and some are even critical of the Nazir – which translates to 10 of the 613 commandments being "un-fulfillable" to those who never play the Nazir-option card.

In our parsha, "Tzitzis" is apparently another example of this latter category. It seems the obligation is to put the tzitzis strings on four corners of a four-or-more cornered garment that one wears. Were a person to never wear such a garment, the mitzvah would seemingly become obsolete. [The Sefer HaChinukh equates this to the mitzvah of maakeh – if one does not have a flat roof, the mitzvah of maakeh is not applicable.]

To be fair, the Sefer HaChinukh (end of mitzvah 386) says, "Even though the obligation from the Torah is only when a person is wearing a 4-cornered garment," an ode to the fact that the mitzvah is only applicable when the garment is being worn (a mitzvah on the person - גברא), while there is no mitzvah to have strings attached to a garment that sits on a shelf (not a mitzvah on a garment - חפצא), "nevertheless our sages warned us to take the pains to fulfill this mitzvah… The Torah, after all, equated it with fulfilling all the commandments. Rabbi Elazar said anyone who is careful about Tzitzis, Tefillin and Mezuzah is assured he will not sin forever."

I don't believe that one who is careful about these mitzvot is guaranteed not to sin because I don't believe we have the power or intellectual ability to equate these fulfillments with a safeguard against sinning. But is the mitzvah completely irrelevant?

The gemara (Menachos 43b) records a fair share of opinions as to what the verse means when it says "You will see the [strings] and you will remember all the commandments of God and you will do them." (15:39)

Some of the possibilities of what the "all the commandments" reminder will be include: to recite the Shema, regarding the mitzvah of kilayim (mixing wool and flax in clothing - based on the proximity to Devarim 22:12), all Mitzvos that are dependant on time (from which women are exempt of the obligation), and an idea that seeing inspires action (based on a homiletical connection to Devarim 6:13).  

Even the Gemara, therefore, is largely of the opinion that tzitzis is not the answer to everything. But the Gemara continues (and the Rambam quotes this in his own Book of Mitzvot, Shoresh 9), by emphasizing that as much as Tzitzis is only counted as one mitzvah, "someone who does not have Tzitzis on his (presumably 4-cornered) garment is in violation of five positive commandments because the mitzvah is emphasized five times in the Torah." While I don't think Maimonides is saying a person who opts not to wear a 4-cornered garment is in violation, perhaps this thought could nonetheless serve as an incentive as well for people to actively pursue wearing Tzitzis, in order to fulfill five positive components of this Mitzvah.  

The optional side of this and other Mitzvos are a reminder that the obligatory nature of "every" mitzvah is not set in stone. Sometimes ingredients need to fall into place in order for the obligation to set in.  

At the same time, the binding aspect of all Mitzvos is something that should never be overlooked. There is a major difference between a mindset that ignores "commandments as obligations" and one that says "if the circumstances don't present themselves, I will not seek them out." 

Every day brings with it, for example, a new obligation to wear tefillin or to study Torah. On the other hand, one who never divorces, to bring the other type of example, will never fulfill the mitzvah associated with the writing and delivering of a גט (get - divorce document). Ignoring the former is a rejection of the Commander-Commanded relationship. Never fulfilling the latter is hopefully part of a recipe of a nice, healthy, lifelong relationship with a spouse.

When it comes to Tzitzis, and whatever "seeing" the strings is supposed to remind us, the concept of the Tzitzis encompassing the entire body should serve as a symbolic reminder of how we are to devote our entire bodies, when possible, to the service of God.

Embracing Mitzvot Properly

Parshat Naso


by Rabbi Avi Billet

The Yalkut Shimoni (Naso 6:710) raises an interesting non-halakhic debate between Rabbi Yehuda and Rabbi Shimon as to what was the motivation for becoming a Nazir.

Rabbi Yehuda claims the Chassidim Harishonim (the early pious ones) would take upon themselves the vow of Nezirut (abstaining from cutting hair, drinking wine, and becoming tameh to a dead body) in order to obligate themselves to bring a Sin offering on the completion of the vow.

Rabbi Shimon disagrees as he finds it unconscionable that people would take a vow of Nezirut for the sole purpose of having to bring a certain sacrifice afterwards. For instance, there are many offerings people could commit to bringing without having to go through a process that, noble and ascetic as it may be, brings about an obligation for a sin offering upon its completion. In fact, claims Rabbi Shimon, they would never commit to be a Nazir because they did not want to have a sin – mild as it may be in the scheme of things – on their record. Regardless of the impetus, bringing a Sin-offering is a sure sign that the one bringing it has sinned. 

The question of who is right is either a question for historians to explore or for the philosophers to debate. My gut tells me Rabbi Shimon is correct. At the same time, I am fascinated by the thought Rabbi Yehuda ascribes to these early pious ones.

 Chapter 6 describes the personal and spiritual responsibilities and goals of the Nazir during the Nezirut period, a time in which the Nazir is considered holy, and consecrated to God (Bamidbar 6:8). The Children of Israel, certainly have a responsibility to achieve that end as much as we can (Vayikra 19:2).

But the method that is utilized by the Nazir, as it were, is highly criticized. What gives a person the right to withdraw completely from the world? To swear off wine – which is considered one of the sources of true joy (Tehillim 104:15, Kohelet 10:19)? During the minimal one month period of Nezirut, for example, the Nazir will miss 4 or 5 opportunities to perform Kiddush properly on Shabbos!

What gives a person the right to neglect one's grooming, to have the appearance of a mourner?

What gives a person, especially a non-kohen, the right to swear off becoming tameh to one's relatives?

To understand the thought process of the Nazir is to understand one who either is trying to commit wholly to God at a price, or who is looking to get away from the world because that seems the best choice at this time, in a manner that successfully pushes off one's problems for the duration of the Nezirut (of course there may be other reasons driving a person).

According to Rabbi Yehuda, the early pious one purposely sought this existence not necessarily because they felt being a Nazir was a good thing, but because they wanted to be able to fulfill a mitzvah they could not otherwise do without going through the process.

Imagine a person wants to make the Yom Kippur confession and repentance a more meaningful experience. A person might deliberately sin, might deliberately eat forbidden foods or engage in sinful behavior as a one-time shot, knowing full well that a one-time satisfied craving will be enough to last a life-time, such that it will never really be a challenge again, in order to be counted as sincerely penitent on Yom Kippur, in a manner the person knows can be maintained. A real baal teshuvah!

This method is certainly a lot easier than promising not to return to the sinful ways we nonetheless return to each year. And yet we know it is ludicrous. How does the future penitence justify the current wrong behavior? It doesn't! Being committed to the Torah and its mitzvot does not mean a person needs to fulfill every one of the mitzvot.

It does mean that one's heart and mind is committed to the life-system that is ordered by the Torah. I don't need to kill an Amalekite, I never to need to send away the mother bird, and I don't need to become a Nazir.

Any marriage that lasts a lifetime never needs to see the issuance of a get. Even the prophet Shmuel chastised the people for asking for a King – there is an element of ideal in a Jewish king, but apparently it is not always the best option for the people of Israel.

A committed Jew seeks to perform mitzvot either because they are simply available without arm-twisting, or because they enhance a person's life. But mitzvot that are set-up as a follow up to a less than ideal circumstance – such as denying certain pleasures we are encouraged to enjoy – are not meant to be for everybody. They are not mitzvot that must be fulfilled at all cost.

Rabbi Shimon said it best when he said "Chas Veshalom" that a person feel obligated to t ake such a route. This is an aberration of the Torah's stance on commitment and obligation. It is a sign of weakness and false piety – certainly not a sign of strength.

The Merits of Performance

Parshat Va'etchanan

by Rabbi Avi Billet

Tisha B'Av is a date on the calendar most noted by observant Jews. It is not so much that it is otherwise ignored, but differently affiliated Jews generally confine their annual Jewish fast days to Yom Kippur. The concept of sadness or a connection to the darker side of our People's history is by no means exclusive to any group. History's enemies of the Jewish people (some of whom continue to make history now) never differentiated between how people practiced their Judaism, as much as they obsessed over the fact that Jews identified as Jews.

The question becomes, for how much longer will those who know not of Tisha B'Av identify as Jews?

The last verse in Devarim chapter 6 states: "It will be a merit for us if we are careful to perform this entire commandment before the Lord our God, as He commanded us."

Rabbi Samson Raphael Hirsch spells out his understanding of this verse in simple language. "We can discharge the tasks of our life's mission only if we keep the whole Torah as "mitzvah"; only if we observe all the laws, without differentiation, as God's commandment, our Divinely-ordained assignment to our life's station; only if we do every mitzvah carefully, without diminishing from it or changing it, all in accordance with the content and manner prescribed by God We do not have the right to abrogate or reform any of it."

In Hirsch's view, there is no question that an observance of Judaism that follows the letter of the Law as described in Devarim and elsewhere in the Torah, is meritorious for the Jewish people. Obedience to Divine dictates, as it were, is a lifestyle that is timeless, and is not meant to ever be viewed as being outdated.

When Rabbi JH Hertz's assumed the post of Chief Rabbi of England in 1913, his inaugural sermon invoked the message of the Men of the Great Assembly as recorded in the first mishnah in Avot, focusing on their three-tiered message, which concludes with "make a fence for the Torah."

His words are as relevant today as they were then.

"Ours will be no Platonic admiration of the Torah; ours no "fulfilling" of the Torah by abolishing it. For well we know that, when the framework of the ancient Law falls away, when the immemorial rites, customs, and ceremonies go, we are left without God in our lives. We may – for a time – remain an ethical, but we are no longer a religious people. And then our days are numbered; for in our Religion alone lies the secret of our deathlessness.  When Malachi's contemporaries asked for proof of the love of God, he bade them contrast the history of Israel with that of the neighboring Bedouin tribes. And verily, with all their outward similarity and kinship of blood, how different were the ultimate fates of Israel and of Moab, for example. 'The history of Moab, loses itself obscurely and fruitlessly in the sand; that of Israel issues in eternity.' Why? Israel had the Torah, statutes, judgments, 'fences'; ceremonies which in a world of maddening brutality, sweetened the life of the Jew; customs which linked generation to generation in filial piety; observances which in the face of countless cataclysms and dispersions unified, as nothing else could, the scattered atoms of the House of Israel – dykes built by inspired engineers to save us from all the waters of heathenism and animalism."

Tisha B'Av is therefore a microcosm of a much larger concern facing our generation. Through our history, the Jewish people were either ridiculed for not conforming to the standards of the majority population, or were singled out as scapegoats and victims for the problems and aggression of their anti-Semitic tormentors, who detested the Jewish moral righteousness and high ethical standards to which the Torah demanded the Jew to abide by.

How long will Judaism without Torah remain Judaism? Which generation of Israeli politicians will drop their 'standards' because it doesn't get them anywhere with the West and with the domestic problems that are aggravated by local enemies?

How many more generations of un-Jewishly-educated Jews will it take for Judaism to drop from their ranks and files because it will be completely out of touch, and too ancient?

The time is right for all Jews to pursue an authentic Jewish education, and to bring a dose of traditional Judaism back into the home and one's lifestyle choices.

Ethics are beautiful, but they only work when the source of the ethics are understood as not only instructive to our lives, but as a small ingredient of a larger recipe that creates a fulfilling life. The other ingredients are not self-motivated or self-understood. They come from thousands of years of a tried and true tradition that works when it is adhered to, and has proven disastrous time and time again when ignored.

As the verse says, "It will be a merit for us if we are careful to perform this entire commandment." I hope we agree that we can use all the merits we can get.