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Creation: A Convergence of Torah and Science

Creation: A Convergence of Torah and Science

Once unthinkable, the accounts of creation by Torah and science are converging.

by Prof. Nathan Aviezer

Where did the universe come from? A person of faith would probably answer that the universe was created out of nothing, as stated in the first verse of the Torah. Such an answer was long considered a scientific impossibility, because it contradicted the law of the conservation of matter and energy. According to this law of science, which was established in the middle of the nineteenth century, matter and energy can be changed from one form to another, but something cannot come from nothing. Therefore, scientists viewed the universe as eternal, thus neatly avoiding questions regarding its origin. The Torah assertion that the universe was created, presumably from nothing, became an area of conflict between Torah and science. That is how matters stood for many years.

This situation has now completely changed. The twentieth century witnessed an unprecedented explosion of scientific knowledge, which was nowhere more dramatic than in cosmology, the discipline that deals with the origin and development of the universe. Astronomers had been studying the heavenly bodies for thousands of years, but their studies dealt exclusively with charting the paths of the stars, planets, and comets, and determining their composition, spectrum, and other properties. The origin of the heavenly bodies remained a complete mystery.

Today, an overwhelming body of scientific evidence supports the “big bang” theory of cosmology.

Important advances in cosmology during the past few decades have, for the first time, permitted scientists to construct a coherent history of the origin of the universe.

Today, an overwhelming body of scientific evidence supports the “big bang” theory of cosmology.1 There are four major pieces of evidence: (1) the discovery in 1965 of the remnant of the initial ball of light, (2) the hydrogen-to-helium ratio in the universe, (3) the Hubble expansion of the galaxies, and (4) the perfect black-body spectrum of the microwave background radiation measured by the COBE space satellite in 1990.

Only the big bang theory can account for all these observations, and therefore this theory is now accepted by all mainstream cosmologists.

The most surprising assertion of the big bang theory is that the universe was literally created from nothing. It is instructive here to quote the world’s leading authorities:

It seems certain that there was a definite time of creation.”Professor Paul Dirac, Nobel laureate from the University of Cambridge

The instant of creation remains unexplained.”3 Professor Alan Guth, Massachusetts Institute of Technology

The creation lies outside the scope of the known laws of physics.”Professor Stephen Hawking, University of Cambridge

The big bang is the modern version of creation.”5Professor Joseph Silk, University of California

Today, it is not possible to carry on a meaningful discussion of cosmology without the creation of the universe assuming a central role. Professor Brian Greene, a theoretical physicist at Columbia University, wrote in 1999: “The modern theory of cosmic origins asserts that the universe erupted from an enormously energetic event, which spewed forth all space and all matter.”6

When cosmologists use the term “creation,” to what are they referring? Precisely what object was created? Scientists have discovered that the universe began with the sudden appearance of an enormous ball of light, commonly called the “primeval light-ball.” This “explosion of light” was dubbed the “big bang” by British astrophysicist Fred Hoyle. The remnant of the initial ball of light was detected in 1965 by two American physicists, Arno Penzias and Robert Wilson, who were awarded the Nobel Prize for their discovery.

“The laws of nature came into existence together with the Big Bang, as did space and time.”

People sometimes ask what existed before the big bang, the event that marked the creation of the universe. Professor John Wheeler of Princeton University explains that the very concept of time did not exist before the creation. “There was no ‘before’ prior to the Big Bang. The laws of nature came into existence together with the Big Bang, as did space and time.”7 Wheeler emphasizes that scientists view space and time as the “stage” upon which events take place. If there is no physical world – if the universe does not exist – then neither time nor space can exist. “Time” and “space” are not independent entities; these concepts have meaning only after the creation of the physical universe.

This property of time and space can be illustrated by analogy to the concept of color. “Red” or “black” are not characteristics that are independent of any physical object. Only if macroscopic objects exist, such as grass, rocks, or houses, can one speak of these objects as being red or black. If nothing but atoms and molecules existed, then there would be no meaning to “red” or “black,” or to the entire concept of colour. There is no such thing as a red molecule. In the same way, there were no concepts of time and space before the universe came into being.

Creation and the Torah

In addition to confirming the creation of the universe, the discovery of the initial primeval light by Penzias and Wilson also answers another long-standing puzzle regarding the Torah account of creation. It is written in the Torah on the First Day of Creation: Andthere was light(Genesis 1:3). But at that time, there existed neither stars, nor sun, nor moon, nor people, nor any other known source of light. Therefore, how can one understand this “light”?

Scientists have now discovered that therewas lightat the very beginning of time: the primeval light-ball whose appearance heralded the origin of the universe. The creation of light did not occur within the existing universe. Rather, the creation of light was the creation of the universe. In other words, the Torah does not record two separate creations on the first day – the creation of the universe and the creation of light – but only one.

We now turn to the question of the time scale. How much time was required for all the cosmological events that took place at the creation of the universe? How many millions of years had to elapse before the universe was complete and assumed its present form?

All the cosmological events involved in the creation of the universe occurred within a very few minutes.

The remarkable answer is that all the cosmological events involved in the creation of the universe occurred within a very few minutes. This fact is emphasized by the dramatic title that Nobel laureate Steven Weinberg chose for his famous book on modern cosmology: The First Three Minutes.

Nowadays, cosmological events – events that alter the structure of the universe – require millions of years to occur. How could such events have occurred within just a few moments? The answer is that during the period of creation, the temperature of the universe was extremely high. Just as food cooks much more rapidly in a pressure cooker than over a low flame, in the same way, events occurred with amazing rapidity in the blazing universe at the origins of time. Professor Greene explains: “The newly borne universe evolved with phenomenal haste. Tiny fractions of a second were cosmic epochs during which the features of the universe were first imprinted. During the first three minutes after the big bang, as the simmering universe cooled, the nuclei emerged.”8

Thus, the formation of the first atomic nuclei – the basic building blocks of every material – was completed within three minutes after the instant of creation.

Faith

The comprehensive agreement between Torah and science described above does not prove that the Torah is of divine origin, nor does it prove that God exists. However, as we begin the twenty-first century, the person of faith is not forced to choose between accepting the latest scientific discoveries or accepting the Torah account of creation. All leading cosmologists now discuss the creation of the universe, while the Torah discusses the Creator of the universe. It is not unreasonable to assume that science and the Torah are both referring to one and the same subject. It is a pleasure for a person of faith to be living in this day and age!

The current harmony between science and faith was not always the case. Only a few decades ago, the outstanding Torah scholar Rav Joseph B. Soloveitchik expressed the then-existing dichotomy between science and faith in a classic essay entitled “The Lonely Man of Faith.”9 Using the word “lonely” to describe the feelings of the man of faith who lives in a scientific world, Rav Soloveitchik wrote:

Being people of faith in our contemporary world is a lonely experience. We are loyal to visionary expectations which find little support in present-day reality… Religious faith is condescendingly regarded as a subjective palliative, but is given little credence as a repository of truth.”10

Now, only half a century later, in one scientific discipline after another, the words of the scientist can hardly be distinguished from the words of “the man of faith.” Professor Stephen J. Gould of Harvard University tells us that “human intelligence is the result of a staggeringly improbable series of events, utterly unpredictable, and quite unrepeatable.”11 The term “luck” is now commonly used by evolutionary biologists like Professor David Raup, past president of the American Paleontological Union, to “explain” the existence of human beings.12 Archaeologists express their amazement at the “radical and sudden changes, with no premonitory signs”13 that mark the appearance of civilization, and they speak of a sudden “quantum leap in mental abilities”14 that appears in the archaeological record of human cultural behaviour. Scientists in a wide variety of disciplines discuss the “anthropic principle,” which states that the universe looks as if it had been specifically designed to permit the existence and promote the welfare of human beings.15The Cambridge Encyclopedia of Astronomy expresses this idea in the following poetic words: “In truth, we are the children of the Universe.”16

The scientific discoveries recorded above are exactly what one would expect if the Torah account of the origin of the universe was correct. Therefore, such harmony between Torah and science constitutes an important argument in support of our religious belief. Modern science has become a significant element in strengthening our ancient faith.

Reprinted from Jewish Life magazine. Download the free Jewish Life app on iOS and Android

Notes

1. See N. Aviezer, 1990, In the Beginning (Ktav Publishing House: New York).
2. P. A. M. Dirac, 1972, Commentarii, vol. 2, no. 11, p. 15.
3. A. H. Guth, May 1984, Scientific American, p. 102.
4. S. W. Hawking, 1973, The Large Scale Structure of Space-Time (Cambridge University Press), p. 364
5. J. Silk, 1989, The Big Bang (W. H. Freeman: New York), p. xi.
6. B. Greene, 1999, The Elegant Universe (Jonathan Cape: London), pp. 345-346.
7. J. A. Wheeler, 1998, Geons, Black Holes, and Quantum Foam (W. W. Norton: New York), p. 350.
8. Greene, pp. 347, 350.
9. J. B. Soloveitchik, Spring 1965, Tradition, pp. 5-67.
10. See the adaptation of the 1965 Soloveitchik essay (especially p. 8) by A. R. Besdin, 1989, Man of Faith in the Modern World (Ktav: New York), pp. 36-37.
11. S. J. Gould, 1989, Wonderful Life (W. W. Norton: New York), p. 14.
12. D. M. Raup, 1991, Extinctions: Bad Genes or Bad Luck? (Oxford University Press).
13. N. Eldredge, 1985, Time Frames (Simon and Schuster: New York), p. 87.
14. N. Eldredge and I. Tattersall, 1982, The Myths of Human Evolution (Columbia University Press: New York), p. 154.
15. G. Gale, December 1981, “Anthropic Principle,” Scientific American, pp. 114-122.
16. S. Mitton, editor-in-chief, 1987, The Cambridge Encyclopedia of Astronomy (Jonathan Cape: London), p. 125.

As taken from, http://www.aish.com/jl/i/mn/Creation-A-Convergence-of-Torah-and-Science.html  on August 11, 2017.

 
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Posted by on August 11, 2017 in Uncategorized

 

Why Civilisations Fail

What is the real challenge of maintaining a free society? In parshat Eikev, Moses springs his great surprise. Here are his words:

Be careful that you do not forget the Lord your God… Otherwise, when you eat and are satisfied, when you build fine houses and settle down, and when your herds and flocks grow large and your silver and gold increase and all you have is multiplied, then your heart will become proud and you will forget the Lord your God, who brought you out of Egypt, out of the land of slavery… You may say to yourself, “My power and the strength of my hands have produced this wealth for me.”… If you ever forget the Lord your God… I testify against you today that you will surely be destroyed. (Deut. 8:11-19)

What Moses was saying to the new generation was this: You thought that the forty years of wandering in the wilderness were the real challenge, and that once you conquer and settle the land, your problems will be over. The truth is that it is then that the real challenge will begin. It will be precisely when all your physical needs are met – when you have land and sovereignty and rich harvests and safe homes ­– that your spiritual trial will commence.

The real challenge is not poverty but affluence, not insecurity but security, not slavery but freedom. Moses, for the first time in history, was hinting at a law of history. Many centuries later it was articulated by the great 14th century Islamic thinker, Ibn Khaldun (1332-1406), by the Italian political philosopher Giambattista Vico (1668-1744), and most recently by the Harvard historian Niall Ferguson. Moses was giving an account of the decline and fall of civilisations.

Ibn Khaldun argued similarly, that when a civilisation becomes great, its elites get used to luxury and comfort, and the people as a whole lose what he called their asabiyah, their social solidarity. The people then become prey to a conquering enemy, less civilised than they are but more cohesive and driven.

Vico described a similar cycle:

“People first sense what is necessary, then consider what is useful, next attend to comfort, later delight in pleasures, soon grow dissolute in luxury, and finally go mad squandering their estates.”

Bertrand Russell put it powerfully in the introduction to his History of Western Philosophy. Russell thought that the two great peaks of civilisation were reached in ancient Greece and Renaissance Italy. But he was honest enough to see that the very features that made them great contained the seeds of their own demise:

What had happened in the great age of Greece happened again in Renaissance Italy: traditional moral restraints disappeared, because they were seen to be associated with superstition; the liberation from fetters made individuals energetic and creative, producing a rare fluorescence of genius; but the anarchy and treachery which inevitably resulted from the decay of morals made Italians collectively impotent, and they fell, like the Greeks, under the domination of nations less civilised than themselves but not so destitute of social cohesion.

 Niall Ferguson, in his book Civilisationthe West and the Rest (2011) argued that the West rose to dominance because of what he calls its six “killer applications”: competition, science, democracy, medicine, consumerism and the Protestant work ethic. Today however it is losing belief in itself and is in danger of being overtaken by others.

All of this was said for the first time by Moses, and it forms a central argument of the book of Devarim. If you assume – he tells the next generation – that you yourselves won the land and the freedom you enjoy, you will grow complacent and self-satisfied. That is the beginning of the end of any civilisation. In an earlier chapter Moses uses the graphic word venoshantem, “you will grow old” (Deut. 4:25), meaning that you will no longer have the moral and mental energy to make the sacrifices necessary for the defence of freedom.

Inequalities will grow. The rich will become self-indulgent. The poor will feel excluded. There will be social divisions, resentments and injustices. Society will no longer cohere. People will not feel bound to one another by a bond of collective responsibility. Individualism will prevail. Trust will decline. Social capital will wane.

This has happened, sooner or later, to all civilisations, however great. To the Israelites – a small people surrounded by large empires – it would be disastrous. As Moses makes clear towards the end of the book, in the long account of the curses that would overcome the people if they lost their spiritual bearings, Israel would find itself defeated and devastated.

Only against this background can we understand the momentous project the book of Devarim is proposing: the creation of a society capable of defeating the normal laws of the growth-and-decline of civilisations. This is an astonishing idea.

How is it to be done? By each person bearing and sharing responsibility for the society as a whole. By each knowing the history of his or her people. By each individual studying and understanding the laws that govern all. By teaching their children so that they too become literate and articulate in their identity.

Rule 1: Never forget where you came from.

Next, you sustain freedom by establishing courts, the rule of law and the implementation of justice. By caring for the poor. By ensuring that everyone has the basic requirements of dignity. By including the lonely in the people’s celebrations. By remembering the covenant daily, weekly, annually in ritual, and renewing it at a national assembly every seven years. By making sure there are always prophets to remind the people of their destiny and expose the corruptions of power.

Rule 2: Never drift from your foundational principles and ideals.

Above all it is achieved by recognising a power greater than ourselves. This is Moses’ most insistent point. Societies start growing old when they lose faith in the transcendent. They then lose faith in an objective moral order and end by losing faith in themselves.

Rule 3: A society is as strong as its faith.

Only faith in God can lead us to honour the needs of others as well as ourselves. Only faith in God can motivate us to act for the benefit of a future we will not live to see. Only faith in God can stop us from wrongdoing when we believe that no other human will ever find out. Only faith in God can give us the humility that alone has the power to defeat the arrogance of success and the self-belief that leads, as Paul Kennedy argued in The Rise and Fall of the Great Powers (1987), to military overstretch and national defeat.

Towards the end of his book Civilisation, Niall Ferguson quotes a member of the Chinese Academy of Social Sciences, part of a team tasked with the challenge of discovering why it was that Europe, having lagged behind China until the 17th century, overtook it, rising to prominence and dominance.

At first, he said, we thought it was your guns. You had better weapons than we did. Then we delved deeper and thought it was your political system. Then we searched deeper still, and concluded that it was your economic system. But for the past 20 years we have realised that it was in fact your religion. It was the (Judeo-Christian) foundation of social and cultural life in Europe that made possible the emergence first of capitalism, then of democratic politics.

Only faith can save a society from decline and fall. That was one of Moses’ greatest insights, and it has never ceased to be true.

As taken from, http://rabbisacks.org/civilisations-fail-eikev-5777/ on August 9, 2017.

 
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Posted by on August 9, 2017 in Uncategorized

 

El enfoque de la Torá sobre la Ansiedad

¿Cómo podemos enfrentar en forma práctica la ansiedad que se presenta en nuestras vidas?

No hay duda de que vivimos en un mundo de alta presión y no solo lidiamos con el estrés que la sociedad pone en nuestras cabezas, sino que también tenemos en nuestro propio interior una olla a presión, de nuestras expectativas personales, responsabilidades, trabajo, familia, relaciones y de nuestros objetivos para encontrar la felicidad y el éxito.

Entonces, ¿cómo podemos enfrentar en forma práctica la ansiedad que se presenta en nuestras vidas, las dificultades que surgen en nuestro camino, las cosas que nos hacen sentir como si estuviéramos atrapados en una rutina e incapaces de superar los desafíos básicos de la vida?

En primer lugar, tenemos que saber que una cierta cantidad de ansiedad en nuestras vidas es normal. Es parte de la vida. Se nos muestra en el pasaje del comienzo de la Torá: “En el principio. . . la tierra estaba desordenada y vacía. . .

y la oscuridad estaba sobre la faz del abismo. . . Y Di-s dijo: “Hágase la luz, y hubo luz. Di-s vio que la luz era buena, por lo que Di-s separó la luz de la oscuridad. . . Y fue la tarde y la mañana, un día” (Génesis 1: 1-5).

De este pasaje fundamental, vemos que:

1. La oscuridad precedió la luz.

2. Para que la luz existiera, tuvo que ser creada. No existe por sí misma. E inclusive cuando la luz fue creada, estaba mezclada con la oscuridad y tuvieron que ser separadas.

3. Una fase completa de revelación: “un día”, solo se completa cuando se incluye tanto la oscuridad (noche) como la luz (por la mañana).

4. Y en el quinto verso de la Torá leemos, “Vaikrá Elokim la’or yom”, “Y Di-s llamó a la luz día”. Lo que esto nos enseña es que “día”, que consiste de luz y oscuridad, es la misma palabra que se utiliza sólo para la luz. Esto significa que a pesar de que la luz y la oscuridad existan, lo que es dominante y lo que define el día es la luz.

Se sabe que la parte más oscura de la noche es justo la que está antes del amanecer. Muchas veces es fácil pensar que la vida sería tan bonita y tan fácil si fuera simplemente una vida llena de luz sin oscuridad. Así como en un electrocardiograma, el latido del corazón va hacia arriba y abajo. . . así también nuestra vida tiene obstáculos en el camino, y los altibajos son parte de la vida. La cuestión no es si va a haber dificultades, sino más bien cómo vamos a lidiar con los golpes, cuando se nos vienen encima.

En muchos segmentos, la Torá habla sobre la ansiedad, pero hay un pasaje importante que nos enseña algunos aspectos muy prácticos del manejo de la ansiedad en nuestras vidas. Claramente, esto no va a ser una solución para alguien que sufre de depresión o enfermedades mentales, en cuyo caso tiene necesidad de una ayuda profesional y, tal vez, de medicación. Los consejos se refieren a los golpes típicos que se nos presentan en nuestras vidas.

La declaración se encuentra en Proverbios, que fue escrito por el rey Salomón. Dice así: “La ansiedad en el corazón de una persona provoca el abatimiento, pero una buena palabra lo convierte en gozo”. La palabra hebrea para esto es: Da’agah Belev ish iashjena, vedavar tov iesamjenah(Proverbios 12: 25).

Aquí vemos la complejidad de la lengua hebrea, y cómo la comprensión de sus diferentes niveles de significados conduce a las enseñanzas múltiples del tema que estemos abordando. La palabra melancolía, “iashjena”, tiene tres significados diferentes, dependiendo de cómo se lee la palabra. Puede significar: 1. suprimir. 2. ignorar. 3. articular.

ETAPA 1:

SUPRIMIRLO
Primero aparece la idea de tratar la ansiedad a través de la supresión. Aquí el texto se lee como una pregunta y una respuesta: ¿Da’agah Belev ish? Ieshjena, es decir, “Si hay ansiedad en el corazón de una persona, suprímela”.

¿Qué significa suprimirla? y ¿por qué este es el primer nivel?
La represión es algo necesario tanto en nosotros mismos, nuestro ego, como en determinadas situaciones. Muy a menudo, nos obsesionamos tanto con algún aspecto que nos olvidamos que hay otras cuestiones importantes y más preocupante que también debemos resolver. Todos sabemos que podemos estar lidiando con dificultades en nuestras vidas, pero cuando oímos hablar de una tragedia nacional, esto pone todo de nuevo en perspectiva. Tratamos de dar un paso atrás y de reducir al mínimo nuestro problema para darnos cuenta y reconocer que no es tan enorme y abrumador como lo estamos haciendo parecer. Reconociendo que no somos la única persona con un problema en este mundo y disminuyendo su intensidad, llegamos al concepto de represión.

La supresión de estos estados de ansiedad resulta en la sensación liberadora que no todo está perdido. El problema todavía puede estar allí, pero se ha circunscripto a su exacta dimensión y ya no amenaza con aplastarnos. Solo una vez que nos hayamos liberado de esta carga podemos acceder a la siguiente etapa de la curación.

ETAPA 2:

INGNORARLO
La segunda manera de entender esta afirmación proviene del Talmud. De nuevo, hay una pregunta y su respuesta. ¿Da’aga Belev ish? Iesjena. “Si hay ansiedad en el corazón de una persona, ignóralo.” (Gramaticalmente, se lee la letra shin en la palabra como un pecado y tiene el significado, “ignorarlo”).

Esto no es solo ignorar una situación, sino que implica, también, separarnos de ella. ¿Por qué es necesario? Porque es fácil definirse a uno mismo a través de los propios problemas. Nunca debemos permitir que una situación se convierta en lo que somos. Cuando estamos separados de los problemas e ignoramos la oscuridad, entonces, somos capaces de centrarnos en la luz.

Existe el concepto de que solo se puede tener una cosa en la mente. Así que si tu cabeza está llena de pensamientos negativos, es necesario eliminarlos por completo e, inmediatamente, remplazarlos por positivos.

Esta lección se aprende de la historia de Iosef. Se cuenta que él estaba en un pozo vacío y que no había agua en él. Pero ¿por qué dice que no tenía agua, si ya sabemos que estaba vacío? La explicación es que el pozo podría haber estado vacío de agua, pero estaba lleno de serpientes y escorpiones. El agua representa la verdad, que es la Torá (ein maim ela Torá -la única agua es la de la Torá), y el pozo es un símbolo de nuestras mentes. Podemos centrar nuestra atención en la Torá con cosas positivas, pero si no hacemos lo contrario, automáticamente se llena de serpientes y escorpiones, surgen los aspectos psicológicos negativos. Con la serpiente, el veneno está en la cabeza, lo que significa que te muerde en el comienzo de cualquier proceso. Pero el escorpión tiene su aguijón en su extremo. Esto significa que algunas personas nunca pueden comenzar algo, y otras pueden empezar cosas, pero nunca acabarlas. . .

La lección aquí es que al igual que tú nunca puedes tener un pozo vacío, así también, la mente nunca está vacía. De acuerdo con las leyes de la física, la naturaleza aborrece el vacío, y el vacío va a atraer algo. Si no se lo llena con algo positivo, automáticamente se inunda con pensamientos negativos. Por lo tanto, alejémonos de lo negativo y abracemos lo positivo.

ETAPA 3:

ARTICULAR LA ANSIEDAD:

El tercer significado de la frase se entiende de la siguiente manera: “Si hay ansiedad en el corazón de una persona, exprésalo, habla de ello, y una buena palabra traerá alegría. ¿Da’agah Belev ish? Iesijena.

Afortunadamente, vivimos en una sociedad en que no solo la terapia es aceptada como algo de lo que no hay que avergonzarse, sino que en realidad se ha vuelto aceptable e, incluso, respetable hablar con un terapeuta.

La Torá siempre ha defendido la idea de tener a alguien con quien hablar. En el jasidismo, se hace hincapié en la idea de que cada persona necesita para encontrarse a sí misma, un mashpia, básicamente, un consejero, alguien con quien se puede hablar y, así, recibir ayuda a través de la orientación. En la ética de nuestros padres, leemos: “Asé lejá rav”, hazte para ti mismo un maestro, “uk’né lejá Javer”, y consigue a un amigo. Esto significa que debemos contar con gente en nuestra vida a la que respetemos, admiremos, y podamos recurrir a ella en busca de consejo.

En algunos casos, es posible que tengamos que pagarle a alguien para este consejo, pero en realidad no importa cómo lo conseguimos, siempre y cuando se trate de alguien cuya prioridad es nuestro bienestar y que se dé cuenta de que no es más que una ayuda en nuestra curación, no el verdadero sanador. A menudo, los terapeutas se puede equivocar jugando a ser Di-s y, cuando lo hacen, no pueden ofrecer una verdadera curación, ya que el aspecto crucial en cualquier proceso de curación es lograr suprimir el ego.

Cuando hablamos de algo que nos pasa, lo traemos a la luz pública y permitimos que otros nos ayuden. Además, si hablamos de una situación difícil con una persona competente, por lo general, obtenemos una orientación e esperanzadora.

Hay una costumbre en Israel que en el primer día de luto, tras un ataque suicida, cuando en general solo la familia inmediata viene a visitar a los deudos, también, vienen otras víctimas del terror . La razón se debe a que no hay nada más potente que alguien pueda entrar y decir: “Sé cómo te sientes”. Y si hablan de ello con alguien que entiende y se preocupa, significa que ya no están solos, no son los únicos frente a esta situación. Tienen el apoyo y la ayuda de otros.

El mayor obstáculo frente a una situación problemática es admitirla si se la puede reconocer, ya se tiene ganada la mitad de la batalla. Una vez que hemos llegado al punto en que estamos dispuestos a hablar, podemos decir con seguridad que estamos listos para comenzar el proceso de curación.

Así, vemos que lidiar con la ansiedad en nuestra vida es un proceso de tres pasos que comienza con la supresión de la ansiedad, así como nuestro ego, y de disminuir la intensidad de la misma. A continuación, debemos olvidar temporalmente el problema y redefinirnos como individuos a pesar del problema que trata de hundirnos. Y, por último, con una fuerza renovada, tenemos que hablar de ello con los que nos apoyan y nos ayudan.

Según tomado de, http://es.chabad.org/library/article_cdo/aid/1892771/jewish/El-enfoque-de-la-Tor-sobre-la-Ansiedad.htm  el miércoles, 9 de agosto de 2017.

 
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The Meaning of Some Common Sephardic Last Names

The Meaning of Some Common Sephardic Last Names

Some of the most famous names of the Sephardic community can be traced back to medieval times.

by Miriam P. Raphael

Whereas most Ashkenazi surnames are of relatively recent origin, Spanish Jews have used family names since medieval times and are used by their descendants to this very day. Although Sephardi and Ashkenazi names are distinctly different, many times they mean the same thing. For instance, the Italian surname of Montefiore is identical in meaning to the German surname Bloomberg, both of which mean ‘mountain of flowers’.

Prior to the 1492 expulsion Spain was a golden era for Jews. However, in 1492 King Ferdinand and Queen Isabella issued the Alhambra Decree ordering all Jews living in Spain to leave the country by July 31 – the day of Tisha B’Av. Many fled to Portugal as refugees but were forcibly converted only five years later. Those that left Spain or escaped from Portugal were widely dispersed throughout the Ottoman Empire, Italy and South-Eastern Europe where they either joined existing Jewish communities or established new ones. Salonica, Morocco, Izmir, Istanbul, Holland and The Island of Rhodes are only some of the places where thriving Sephardic communities were established. Many also fled to Gibraltar and North Africa because of its proximity to the Iberian Peninsula while others were able to flee to Israel or the New World.

Most of the names listed below can be found among Inquisitional manuscripts, Church registrars, notarial archives and other ancestral records that go back for centuries in both the Spanish and Portuguese kingdoms.

Sephardic surnames often denote places of origin and were directly related to geographical locations either before or after the expulsion in 1492 or were acquired during the forced wanderings caused by the exile. Toledano (Toledo), Soriano (Soria) and Romano (Rome) are just a few examples. Other Sephardic names such as Benzaquen, Ben-Ezra and Ohana were of Hebrew or Arabic derivation.

Many family names were related to one’s profession such as Melamed, Cabrera and Alhadeff. Like their Ashkenazi brethren, surnames such as Cohen and Levy are also found among Sephardic communities and denoted Cohanic or Levitic descent. Some Jews that chose to convert and stay in Spain after the edict of expulsion took upon the names of the their Christian godparents but practiced their Judaism in secret until they were able to escape to nearby countries such as the Netherlands, England and France where they reconverted back to Judaism. Italian, Spanish, French and Latin words are commonly found among most Sephardic surnames as many of the provinces and cities in the Iberian Peninsula derived their names from these languages.

Families murdered by Nazis in Rhodes

Plaque commemorating families murdered by Nazis in Rhodes.

Here’s a list of some of the most famous names of the Sephardic community.

Abarbanel: From the Hebrew word ‘Av’ meaning ‘father’ , ‘Rabban’meaning ‘priest’ and ‘El‘ meaning ‘God’. One of the oldest Spanish family names which traces its origin from King David.

Abecassis: From the word ‘Av’ meaning Father and Arabic ‘kassas’meaning storyteller. In Algeria, community leaders and rabbis were given the title ‘Kassis’. Many Jews from Gibraltar, Portugal and Morocco share this name.

Adatto: From the Italian word meaning ‘suitable’ or ‘appropriate’. Jews that left Spain for Turkey via Italy took on this name.

Alhadeff: The name means “weaver” and is of Spanish/Moorish origin found most often among Jews who left Spain after the expulsion for the Greek Island of Rhodes.

Alkana: Meaning ‘God bought’ in Hebrew.

Almo/Almosimo: From Spanish meaning ‘One who gives to the poor’.

Amiel: From the Hebrew words ‘Am‘ (nation) and ‘El‘ (God) meaning ‘God’s people’ or ‘the people of God’.

Angel: The surname comes from the Hebrew word of ‘malach’meaning ‘angel’. The Angel family traces back to medieval Spain and migrated to Greece and the Island of Rhodes.

Ashkenazi/Eshkenazi: Ashkenazi meaning ‘German’. The Sephardic carriers of the surname would have some Ashkenazi ancestors who moved to Sephardi countries and joined and were adopted by those communities.

Azose: Anglicized version of the surname ‘Azuz’. The root of the name comes from the Hebrew word for strength – ‘Oz‘.

Behar: Many origins of the Behar surname. From the Hebrew ‘behor’meaning ‘eldest’ and the Turkish word, ‘Bahar’, meaning Spring. Also from Spanish ‘abeja’ meaning bee. Behar is of pre-roman origin and is also the name of a town in the Spanish province of Salamanca and was probably a habitational name for many Jews of that province. Many Sephardic Jews from Bulgaria and Greece carry this surname.

Benarouch: A patronymic name meaning ‘son of the head (leader)’ in Hebrew.

BenPorat: A patronymic name meaning ‘son of the prosperous’ in Hebrew.

Benezra: A patronymic name meaning ‘son of the helper’ in Hebrew and a popular name among Spanish Jews. There is a tradition that this family name is of priestly (Cohen) lineage.

Benaroya: From “Ben” meaning son and “Arroyo” meaning rivulet or river in Spanish. Banaroya is a variant of BenArroyo or BenArollia.

Benveniste: From the Latin ‘veniste’ meaning ‘you came’ and ‘ben’ meaning ‘son’ in Hebrew. This was a widespread Sephardic family originating in Spain that dispersed throughout the Ottoman Empire following the expulsion.

Benzaquen: Patronymic name meaning ‘son of the elder’ in Hebrew.

Cabrera: From the Catalan-Spanish meaning ‘goat herd’.

Calvo: The name Calvo comes from the Latin ‘calvus’ meaning ‘bald-headed man’ and has its own coat-of-arms. The Calvo family originated from Galicia Spain.

Carvalho: common Sephardic surname from the Portuguese word meaning ‘oak’.

Cardoza: Habitational name from Cordoza, Spain.

Coronel: From the Portuguese word meaning ‘colonel’ or ‘officer’ and also possibly from the Portuguese ‘caro’ meaning ‘dear”. The family name originally comes from Galicia, Spain and has its own coat-of-arms.

Franco: A variant of the Latin ‘Francis’ meaning ‘free one’ or ‘Frenchman’. A common surname in the Iberian Peninsula adopted by Jewish families and a reference to the Germanic Franks who invaded modern day France during the first millennium AD.

Gabay: From the Hebrew word meaning ‘warden’ (of a synagogue). This title referred to a variety of roles, but most were related to the collection of taxes, fees and other payments from Jews.

Galante: From the French word ‘galant’ meaning chivalrous or noble. The Galante family was of Portuguese/Italian descent which flourished in Rome during the 16th century.

Halfon: Hebrew word for moneychanger.

Harari: Hebrew for ‘mountaineer’. The Harari family originated from the city of Montpellier in Southern France.

Hassan: From the Hebrew word meaning ‘cantor’, also possibly from the Arabic hassan meaning ‘handsome’. A rabbinical family that originated from Spain and settled in Morocco and Italy following the expulsion from Spain.

Laniado: Meaning ‘hairy’ in medieval Spanish.

Leon: From the region of Leon which was part of the ancient Spanish Kingdom of Castile-Leon.

Luzatto: An Italian family descended from a Jew who immigrated to Italy from the province of Lusatia, Germany.

Maimon: From Arabic/Hebrew meaning ‘fortunate’ or ‘lucky’. A prominent rabbinical family from Spain. Maimonides was known as ‘Moses ben Maimon’.

Mansour: From Arabic meaning ‘Winner’ or ‘victorious one’. Also from the Egyptian city of Mansura in the Nile Delta.

Marcus/Marciano: From the Latin ‘Marculus’ meaning ‘hammer’. An Italian name picked up by Sephardic Jews after the expulsion.

Melamed: Meaning ‘teacher’ in Hebrew.

Mitrani: Habitational name from Hebrew meaning ‘from Trani’. From the seaport town of Trani in Southern Italy.

Mizrachi: Meaning ‘Oriental’ or ‘Easterner’ in Hebrew.

Montefiore: From Italian ‘monte’ meaning ‘mountain’, and ‘fiore’meaning ‘flower’. This surname belonged to Sephardic Jews who originated from Italy.

Naor: Meaning ‘enlightened’ in Hebrew.

Nissim: From the Hebrew word meaning ‘miracles’.

Ohana: A derivative of the Hebrew name ‘Hannah’ meaning ‘gracious’ or ‘favor’. Jews with this name established themselves in Morocco and Northern Africa following the expulsion.

Ovadia: Meaning ‘God’s servant’ in Hebrew.

Pinto: From the Spanish word meaning ‘chick’. Pinto is also a province in Spain near Madrid and was most likely a name derived from the Jews that lived in this province.

Russo: From the Latin ‘russos’ meaning ‘red’. Most people with this surname and its variants have their roots in either Spain or Italy.

(Ben)Quaknine: A patronymic name meaning ‘son of Jacob’. In Berber, the diminutive name of Jacob is ‘Aqnin’. The name and variants are recorded in 13th century Spain and Morocco.

Sasson: Meaning ‘joy’ or ‘merriment’. Found among Jews that trace their ancestry to Toledo, Spain that moved to Turkey after the expulsion.

Serfaty: Means ‘Frenchman’ in Hebrew. An Oriental family that traces its line to France and are likely descendant from Rashi.

Serrano: From the French word ‘serre’ meaning ridge or Spanish ‘serra’ meaning ‘mountain range’ in Portuguese and Catalan.

Silvera: Habitational family name from the Spanish town of Silva in Galicia, Spain. The name is derived from the Latin ‘silver’ meaning ‘wood’ or ‘forest’. Members of this family migrated to Italy after the expulsion.

Soriano: Habitational name from Soria (Castile/Leon) in northern Spain. Jews with this name established themselves in both Italy and Rhodes following the expulsion.

Souissa: From Suesa, a province of Santander, Spain

Spinoza: From the Italian ‘spinoso’ meaning ‘thorny’ and the Spanish ‘espinoso’, also ‘thorny’. The family name came be found among Jews that came from Portugal and Galicia, Spain.

Toledano: From Toledo, a province of Spain. Many families of Sephardic rabbis originated in Toledo. After the expulsion from Spain they were immigrated to Safed, Greece, Morocco, and later in Holland, England, and Turkey.

Varon: from the Latin word for man. In Spanish, ‘Varon’ means ‘man’ or ‘male’. Also possibly a habitational name for several places in Castille and Galicia with this name.

Vidal: Meaning ‘alive’ or ‘life’ in Latin (vita).

As taken from, http://www.aish.com/jw/s/The-Meaning-of-Some-Common-Sephardic-Last-Names.html?s=show on August 6, 2017.

 
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Posted by on August 6, 2017 in Uncategorized

 

The Dark Side of Shalom

The Dark Side of Shalom

GUN BELT_opt

There are some meanings of shalom that are anything but peaceful. (Photo: Patheos Media Library)

Shalom is the word that every seminarian who takes any Hebrew is proud that they have learned. Now, they know the word for “peace”! Little do they realize that the word shalom has a dark side; it has hidden shades of meaning that are anything but peaceful.

Yes, students quickly discover that shalom means more than absence of military or social conflict. Shalom is a word that describes wholeness (Isaiah 53:5), health (Psalm 38:3), prosperity (Psalm 35:27), and well-being (Genesis 37:14). When the Shunammite woman is asked if all is OK with her, she simply says, “Shalom” (2 Kings 4:26). When Biblical characters (and modern Israelis) meet, they ask about each other’s shalom (Exodus 18:7). In Esther 2:11, Mordecai stays close to the palace to stay informed about Esther’s shalom.

Many times the adjective form shalēm is used to refer to a heart that is “completely” or consistently “loyal” and not divided. Examples include 1 Kings 8:61, 1 Kings 11:4 (versus 1 Kings 15:14), and 2 Chronicles 15:17 and 25:2.Hezekiah pleads that he has walked before God with a “whole/complete” heart (2 Kings 20:3 = Isaiah 38:3).

Moses commands altars to be built with stones that are “whole/complete” (shelōmoth– Deuteronomy 27:6, Joshua 8:31).  2 Chronicles 8:16 – the work on the house of YHWH was “complete.”  In Genesis 15:16, God says that the iniquity of the Amorites is not yet “complete.” Nehemiah 6:15 uses the verb form, “The wall was complete.” In Job 23:14, Job says that God “will complete (yashlim) what he has appointed for me.” The term “peace offerings” (shelamim) is also rendered as “offerings of well-being/wholeness.”

One landmark verse where the meaning of shalom embraces all of the above meanings is Jeremiah 29:7: “Seek the shalom (welfare) of the city where I have sent you into exile, and pray to the Lord on its behalf, for in its shalom, you will find your shalom.” In the same vein, in Job 9:4, Job asks, “Who has ever resisted [God] and prospered (or “come out OK” – wayyishlam)?”

But social justice proponents rightly point out that shalom cannot coexist with evil and injustice. Such obstacles to shalom must be eliminated. We find this meaning in the verb form of shalom. Its stative form (Qal) means “to be whole/be at peace.” In its transitive forms (Piel, Hifil, etc), it means “to establish peace” (2 Samuel 10:19). And that may include: restitution (Exodus 21:34), the repayment of debts (2 Kings 4:7), and the settling of scores (Proverbs 20:22). Ouch! Here is where we see the politically incorrect side of shalom, the dark side to which I refer. The verb form of shalom is used eleven times in Job, and six of them have to do with payback.

Who would have imagined that the shalom root would be found in this famous line?  “Vengeance is mine, and shillem – recompense!” (Deuteronomy 32:35) A few verses later, we find Deuteronomy 32:41 – “I will repay (ashallem) my enemies.” But the repayment meaning is not always negative.  In Isaiah 44, the verb refers to the fulfillment of God’s intentions to rebuild Jerusalem. In 2 Chronicles 5, the verb refers to Solomon “completing” his work on the Temple. The shalom verb is also a common way to express fulfillment of a vow (Psalm 65:1). In fact, the name Meshullam (used 17 times in the Hebrew Bible) is a Pual participle of the verb, a name that means “Repayment,” a name that may have been given to persons who were donated to service in the Temple as payment for a vow.

“Peace” is just one of the options by which we may translate the term shalom when we encounter it. Sometimes, it is entirely a matter of opinion whether peace, wholeness, welfare, well-being, or all of the above are being conveyed in any instance where the word is used. And yes, some of the extended meanings of the shalom root are anything but peaceful. If we really want to describe “peace” as in absence of violent conflict, we would do better to go to the root shaqat, which is used in Joshua 11:23 where the land “had rest” from war, and in 2 Kings 11:20, where the city “was quiet” after the overthrow of Athaliah. But that word might not fit in all of the wonderful scriptures where shalom is used.

As taken from, http://www.patheos.com/blogs/tomhobson/2017/08/1200/?utm_medium=email&utm_source=Newsletter&utm_campaign=Evangelical&utm_content=46  on August 4, 2017.

 
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Posted by on August 4, 2017 in Uncategorized

 

Por qué los judíos no creemos en Jesús

Por qué los judíos no creen en Jesús
Durante 2.000 años, los judíos han rechazado el cristianismo. ¿Por qué?
por Rav Shraga Simmons

Es importante entender por qué los judíos no creen en Jesús. El propósito no es despreciar otras religiones, sino plantear y clarificar la posición judía. Cuanta más información haya para escoger, la gente podrá tomar mejores decisiones acerca de sus vidas espirituales.

Los judíos no aceptan a Jesús como su Mesías porque:

  1. Jesús no cumplió las profecías mesiánicas.
  2. El cristianismo contradice la teología judía.
  3. Jesús no cumplió con los requisitos de Mesías.
  4. Los versículos bíblicos referentes a “Jesús” son traducciones incorrectas.
  5. La creencia judía se basa en una revelación nacional.

1. Jesús no cumplió las profecías mesiánicas

¿Qué es lo que el Mesías tiene que lograr?

La Biblia dice que debe:

  • Construir el Tercer Templo (Ezequiel 37:26-28)
  • Reunir a todos los judíos de regreso en la Tierra de Israel (Isaías 43:5-6).
  • Traer una era de paz mundial, acabar con el odio, la opresión, el sufrimiento y la enfermedad. Como está escrito: “Una nación no levantará espada contra otra nación; y tampoco los hombres estudiarán más cómo hacer guerra”(ver Isaías 2:4).
  • Esparcir un conocimiento universal sobre el Dios de Israel, uniendo a toda la raza humana como una. Como está escrito: “Dios será Rey sobre todo el mundo; ese día, Dios será Uno y Su Nombre será Uno” (Zacarías 14:9).

El hecho histórico es que Jesús no cumplió con ninguna de estas profecías mesiánicas.

2. El cristianismo contradice la teología judía

¿Dios como tres?

La idea cristiana de la trinidad divide a Dios en tres entes separados: El Padre, el Hijo y el Espíritu Santo (Mateo 28:19).

Esto contradice al Shemá, la base de la creencia judía: “Escucha Israel, el Señor es nuestro Dios, el Señor es UNO” (Deuteronomio 6:4). Los judíos declaran la unicidad de Dios cada día, escribiéndola en los marcos de sus puertas —las mezuzot—, y atándola a sus brazos y a sus cabezas —los Tefilin—. Esta aseveración de la unicidad de Dios son las primeras palabras que se le enseñan a un niño judío, y las últimas palabras que se dicen antes de morir.

En la ley judía, el adorar a una trinidad divina es considerado idolatría, uno de los pecados cardinales por los cuales un judío debe dar la vida antes de transgredirlo. Esto explica por qué durante las inquisiciones y durante toda nuestra historia, los judíos han preferido dar sus vidas antes que convertirse.

¿El hombre como Dios?

Los cristianos creen que Dios vino a la tierra tomando la forma de un hombre, como Jesús dijo: “Yo y el Padre somos uno” (Juan 10:30).

Maimónides dedica la mayoría de su libro “La Guía de los Perplejos” a la idea fundamental de que Dios carece de cuerpo, es decir de una forma física. Dios es Eterno, está por encima del tiempo. Es Infinito, más allá del espacio. No pudo haber nacido y no puede morir. Decir que Dios asume una forma humana hace a Dios pequeño, destruyendo Su Unicidad y Divinidad, como dice la Torá: “Dios no es un mortal” (Números 23; 19).

El judaísmo dice que el Mesías va a nacer de padres humanos, con atributos físicos como cualquier otra persona. No va a ser un semi-dios, y no va a poseer características sobrenaturales. De hecho, un individuo vive en cada generación con la capacidad de tomar el papel de Mesías (ver Maimónides, Leyes de Reyes 11:3).

¿Intermediario para el rezo?

Una idea básica del cristianismo es que el rezo debe ser dirigido a través de un intermediario —por ejemplo, confesar los pecados a un cura—. Jesús mismo es un intermediario, como él mismo dijo: “Ningún hombre se acerca al Padre sino a través mío”.

En el judaísmo, el rezo es una cuestión totalmente privada, entre cada individuo y Dios. Como la Biblia dice: “Dios está cercano a todo aquel que lo llame verdaderamente” (Salmos 145: 18). Más aún, los Diez Mandamientos dicen: “No debes tener otros dioses delante de Mí”, es decir que está prohibido poner un mediador entre Dios y el hombre. (Ver Maimónides, Leyes de idolatría Cáp. 1).

Participación en el mundo físico

El cristianismo comúnmente trata al mundo físico como algo malo que debe ser evitado. María, la mujer cristiana más sagrada es retratada como una virgen. Entre los curas y las monjas son célibes. Los monasterios están en lugares remotos y alejados.

Por el contrario, el judaísmo cree que Dios creó el mundo físico para nuestro beneficio, no para frustrarnos. La espiritualidad judía se obtiene mediante la utilización del mundo físico de manera tal que lo eleva. Las relaciones íntimas en un contexto adecuado es uno de los actos más sagrados que una persona puede realizar.

El Talmud dice que si una persona tiene la oportunidad de probar una fruta nueva y se rehúsa a hacerlo, tendrá que rendir cuentas de ello en el mundo venidero. Asimismo, las escuelas rabínicas judías enseñan cómo actuar correctamente en el ámbito comercial. Los judíos no se retiran de la vida, la elevan.

3. Jesús no cumplió con los requisitos de mesías

Mesías como profeta

Jesús no fue un profeta. La profecía sólo puede existir cuando la tierra está habitada por una mayoría de judíos. Durante el tiempo de Ezrá (C. año 300 a.e.c.) la mayoría de los judíos se rehusaron a desplazarse de Babilonia hacia Israel, por ende la profecía terminó con la muerte de los últimos profetas: Jagai, Zacarías y Malají.

Jesús apareció en la escena aproximadamente 350 años después de terminada la época de los profetas.

Descendiente de David

El Mesías debe ser descendiente del rey David por el lado paterno (Ver Génesis 49:10 e Isaías 11:1). De acuerdo al cristianismo que dice que Jesús fue producto del nacimiento de una virgen, él no tuvo un padre, y por ende no pudo haber tenido la posibilidad de cumplir la profecía mesiánica de ser descendiente del rey David por el lado paterno.

Observancia de la Torá

El Mesías va hacer que el pueblo judío cumpla con todas las leyes de la Torá. La Torá plantea que todas las mitzvot permanecerán obligatorias para siempre y que cualquiera que venga a cambiar la Torá es inmediatamente identificado como un falso profeta (Deuteronomio 13; 1-4).

A lo largo del nuevo testamento Jesús contradice a la Torá y dice que seis mandamientos ya no son aplicables (Juan 1:45 y 9:16, Hechos 3:22 y 7:37).

4. Los versículos bíblicos referentes a “Jesús” son traducciones incorrectas

Los versículos bíblicos sólo pueden ser entendidos al estudiar el texto en su idioma original, lo que revela muchas discrepancias con la traducción cristiana.

Una virgen dio a luz

La idea cristiana de que una virgen dio a luz ha derivado de un versículo en Isaías que describe a una “almá” dando a luz. La palabra hebrea “almá” siempre ha significado “una mujer joven”, pero los teólogos cristianos vinieron siglos después a traducirla como “virgen”. Esto está de acuerdo con la idea pagana de que los mortales son absorbidos por dioses.

Crucifixión

El versículo en Salmos 22:17 dice: “Como un león ellos están en mis manos y pies”. La palabra hebrea ke-arí (como un león) es gramaticalmente similar a la palabra “clavado”. Sin embargo, el cristianismo lee el versículo como una referencia a la crucifixión: “Ellos perforaron mis manos y pies”.

Un sirviente que sufre

Los cristianos declaran que en el libro de Isaías, capítulo 53, el texto se refiere a Jesús. Pero en realidad, el profeta Isaías en el capítulo 53 de su libro continúa directamente el tema del capítulo 52 describiendo el exilio y la redención del pueblo judío. Las profecías están escritas en el singular puesto que los judíos (“Israel”) son considerados como una unidad. La Torá está llena de ejemplos del pueblo judío considerado con un pronombre singular.

Irónicamente las profecías de persecución de Isaías se refieren en parte al siglo XI cuando los judíos fueron torturados y matados por las cruzadas que actuaron en nombre de Jesús.

¿De dónde surgieron estas traducciones erróneas? San Gregorio, el Arzobispo de Nacianzo del siglo IV escribió: “Un poquito de jerga es todo lo que se necesita para imponerse sobre la gente. Cuanto menos comprendan, más admirarán”.

5. La creencia judía se basa en una revelación nacional

De las 15.000 religiones que existieron en la historia de la humanidad sólo el judaísmo basa sus creencias en una revelación nacional, es decir: Dios hablándole a todo el pueblo. Si Dios va a comenzar una religión, tiene sentido que se lo diga a todos y no sólo a una persona.

El judaísmo, único entre la mayoría de las religiones principales del mundo, no basa sus creencias en “declaraciones de milagros” para establecer su religión. De hecho la Biblia dice que Dios algunas veces garantiza el poder de hacer “milagros” a los charlatanes, para poder probar la lealtad de los judíos hacia la Torá. (Deuteronomio. 13:4).

Maimónides dice (Fundamentos de la Torá Cáp. 8):

Los judíos no creyeron en Moshé, nuestro maestro, por los milagros que realizó. Cuando la creencia de una persona está basada en ver milagros, tiene dudas persistentes, porque es posible que los milagros fueran hechos a través de la magia o la brujería. Todos los milagros realizados por Moshé en el desierto ocurrieron porque fueron necesarios, y no como prueba de su profecía.

¿Cuál fue entonces la base de la creencia judía? La revelación en el Monte Sinai, que vimos con nuestros propios ojos y escuchamos con nuestros oídos, sin depender del testimonio de otros. Como está escrito: “Cara a cara, Dios habló contigo…”. La Torá también cita: “Dios no hizo este pacto con nuestros padres, sino con nosotros – que estamos todos vivos hoy”. (Deuteronomio 5:3).

El judaísmo no está basado en “milagros”. Es la experiencia personal de cada hombre, mujer y niño.

Judíos y gentiles

El judaísmo no demanda que todos se conviertan a la religión judía. La Torá de Moshé es la verdad para la humanidad, sea la persona un judío o no. El rey Salomón le pidió a Dios contestar los rezos de los no-judíos que iban al Templo Sagrado (Reyes I 8:41-43). El profeta Isaías se refiere al Templo como la “Casa para las naciones”. El servicio en el Templo durante Sucot presentaba 70 sacrificios animales correspondientes a las 70 naciones del mundo. (De hecho, el Talmud dice que si los romanos se hubieran dado cuenta del beneficio que obtenían del Templo, nunca lo hubieran destruido).

Los judíos nunca han buscado convertir a la gente, puesto que la Torá prescribe un camino adecuado para los gentiles, llamado las “Siete leyes de Noaj”. Maimónides explica que cualquier ser humano, que con fe observa estas leyes morales básicas, gana un lugar propio en el cielo.

Trayendo al Mesías

Maimónides declara que la popularidad del cristianismo (y del Islam) es parte del plan de Dios de extender las ideas de la Torá a todo el mundo. Esto mueve a la sociedad hacia un estado perfecto de moralidad, y hacia una mayor comprensión de Dios. Todo esto en preparación para la era mesiánica.

Por cierto, el mundo está desesperadamente necesitado de la redención mesiánica. La guerra y la contaminación ambiental amenazan nuestro planeta; el ego y la confusión erosionan nuestra vida familiar. Hasta donde estemos conscientes de los problemas sociales, es el determinante de nuestro anhelo por la redención. Como dice el Talmud, una de las primeras preguntas que se le hace a un judío en su juicio celestial es: “¿Has anhelado la llegada del Mesías?”.

¿Cómo podemos apresurar la llegada del Mesías? La mejor manera es amar generosamente a toda la humanidad, cuidar las mitzvot de la Torá (como mejor podamos), y animar a los demás a que también lo hagan.

A pesar de la penumbra, el mundo está encaminado hacia la redención. Un signo evidente es que los judíos han regresado a la Tierra de Israel y la han hecho florecer nuevamente.

Además, hay un gran movimiento de jóvenes judíos regresando a las tradiciones de la Torá.

El Mesías puede venir en cualquier momento, y todo depende de nuestras acciones. Dios estará listo cuando nosotros lo estemos. Como dijo el rey David: “La redención llegará hoy, si escuchas Su voz”.

Según tomado de, http://www.aishlatino.com/e/f/48420212.html?s=mpw el jueves, 3 de agosto de 2017.

 
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Posted by on August 3, 2017 in Uncategorized

 

Philosophy or Prophecy?

What was the first commandment? On this there are two fascinating disagreements in Judaism. One was between Moses Maimonides (1135-1204) and the author of the Halakhot Gedolot, written in the period of the Gaonim, probably by R. Shimon Kayyara (eighth century), that for the first time enumerated in a systematic way the 613 commands. The other was between Maimonides and the poet and thinker Judah Halevi (c. 1080-c.1145). These were two different arguments, and they touched, as we will see, on fundamentals of faith.

The first is simply this. Maimonides counts the opening line of the Ten Commandments, “I am the Lord your God, who brought you out of Egypt, out of the land of slavery,” as a positive command, to believe in God.[1] The Halakhot Gedolot does not count it as a command at all. Why not?

Nahmanides (1194-1270), in defence of the Halakhot Gedolot,[2]  speculates that its author counted among the 613 commands only the specific laws enjoining us to do this or avoid doing that. The commands are rules of behaviour, not items of faith. Faith in the existence of God, or acceptance of the kingship of God, is not itself a command but a prelude to and presupposition of the commands. He quotes a passage from the Mekhilta:

“You shall have no other gods besides me.” Why is this said?  Because it says, “I am the Lord your God.” To explain this by way of a parable: A king of flesh and blood entered a province.  His servants said to him, “Issue decrees for the people.” He, however, told them, “No. When they accept my sovereignty, I will issue decrees.  For if they do not accept my sovereignty, how will they carry out my decrees?”

According to Nahmanides, the Halakhot Gedolot must have believed that the verse, “I am the Lord your God, who brought you out of Egypt, out of the land of slavery” is not itself a command, but a statement of why the Israelites should be bound by the will of God. He had rescued them, liberated them, and brought them to safety. The first verse of the Decalogue is not a law but a statement of fact, a reason why the Israelites should accept God’s sovereignty.

Thanks to the archeological discoveries about which I wrote in the previous Covenant and Conversation, we now know that the biblical covenant has the same literary structure as ancient near eastern political treaties. These treaties usually follow a six-part pattern, of which the first three elements were [1] the preamble, identifying the initiator of the treaty, [2] a historical review, summarising the past relationship between the parties, and [3] the stipulations, namely the terms and conditions of the covenant.

Seen in this context, the first verse of the Ten Commandments is a highly abridged form of [1] and [2]. “I am the Lord your God” is the preamble. “Who brought you out of Egypt, out of the land of slavery” is the historical review. The verses that follow are the stipulations, or as we would call them, the commands. If so, then the Halakhot Gedolot as understood by Nahmanides was correct in seeing the verse as an introduction to the commands, not a command in its own right. That is the first disagreement.

The second was between Maimonides and Judah Halevi. For Maimonides, the first command is to believe in God, creator of heaven and earth:

 

The basic principle of all basic principles and the pillar of all sciences is to realise that there is a First Being who brought every existing thing into being. . . If it could be supposed that He did not exist, it would follow that nothing else could possibly exist. If however it were supposed that all other beings were non-existent, He alone would still exist. . . To acknowledge this truth is a positive command, as it is said: “I am the Lord your God” (Ex. 20:2, Deut 5:7).[3]

 

Judah Halevi disagreed. Halevi was not only the greatest of medieval Hebrew poets, he also wrote one of Judaism’s theological masterpieces, The Kuzari. It is framed as a dialogue between a rabbi and the King of the Khazars. Historically, the Khazars were a Turkish people who, between the seventh and eleventh centuries, ruled a considerable area between the Black Sea and the Caspian Sea, including southern Russia, northern Caucasus, eastern Ukraine, Western Kazakhstan, and northwestern Uzbekistan.

Many Jewish traders and refugees lived there, and in 838 the Khazar King Bulan converted to Judaism, after supposedly holding a debate between representatives of the Jewish, Christian, and Muslim faiths. The Arabic writer Dimashqi writes that the Khazars, having encountered the Jewish faith, “found it better than their own and accepted it”. Khazaria thus became, spiritually as well as geographically, an independent third force between the Muslim Caliphate and the Christian Byzantine Empire. After their conversion, the Khazar people used Jewish personal names, spoke and wrote in Hebrew, were circumcised, had synagogues and rabbis, studied the Torah and Talmud, and observed the Jewish festivals.

The Kuzari is Judah Halevi’s overarching account of Judaism, cast in the form of an imagined conversation between the King and a rabbi that led to the King’s conversion. In it, Halevi draws a portrait diametrically opposed to Maimonides’ account. Judaism, for Halevi, is not philosophical but counter-philosophical. It’s not about abstract concepts but about concrete experiences: the taste of slavery, the feeling of liberation, the realisation on the part of the people that God had heard their cry and set them free. The God of Abraham is not the God of Aristotle. The prophets were not philosophers. Philosophers found God in physics and metaphysics, but the prophets found God in history. This is how Halevi’s rabbi explains his faith to the king of the Khazars:

I believe in the God of Abraham, Isaac and Israel, who led the children of Israel out of Egypt with signs and miracles; who fed them in the desert and gave them the land, after having brought them through the sea and the Jordan in a miraculous way. . . (Kuzari I:11)

 

He goes on to emphasise that God’s opening words in the revelation at Mount Sinai were not, “I am the Lord your God, creator of heaven and earth” but “I am the Lord your God, who brought you out of Egypt, out of the land of slavery” (Kuzari I:25). The covenant God made with the Israelites at Mount Sinai was not rooted in the ancient past of creation but in the recent past of the exodus.

What is at stake in this difference of opinion between Maimonides and Halevi? At the heart of Judaism is a twofold understanding of the nature of God and His relationship to the universe. On the one hand God is creator of the universe and the maker of the human person “in His image”. This aspect of God is universal. It is accessible to anyone, Jew or gentile. Aristotle arrived at it through logic and metaphysics. For him, God was the “prime mover” who set the universe into motion. Today, many people reach the same conclusion through science: the universe is too finely tuned for the emergence of life to have come into being through chance. Some arrive at it not through logic or science but through a simple sense of awe and wonder (“Not how the world is, but that it is, is the mystical” said Wittgenstein). This aspect of God is called by the Torah, Elokim.

But there is a quite different aspect of God which predominates throughout most of Tanakh. This is God as He is involved in the fate of one family, one nation: the children of Israel. He intervened in their history. He made a highly specific covenant with them at Sinai – not at all like the general one He made with Noah and all humanity after the Flood. The Noahide covenant is simple and basic: it involved a mere seven commands. The Sinai covenant, by contrast, is highly articulated, covering almost every aspect of life. This aspect of God is signalled by the use of the four-letter name for which we traditionally substitute the word Hashem.[4]

Maimonides, the philosopher, emphasised the universal, metaphysical aspect of Judaism and the eternal, unchanging existence of God. Judah Halevi, the poet, was more attuned to the particularistic and prophetic dimension of Judaism: the role of God in the historical drama of the Jewish people.

Maimonides was the greatest halakhist and philosopher of the Middle Ages, but it is hard to avoid the conclusion that here, at least, the Halakhot Gedolot and Judah Halevi were closer to the plain sense of the text. Even the greatest thinker is not right all the time, which is why Judaism remains a conversation scored for many voices, each with its own insight into the infinite inflections of the Divine word.

 

[1] Maimonides, Sefer haMitzvot, positive command 1.

[2] Nahmanides, Hasagot to Sefer haMitzvot, ad loc. This is not Nahmanides’ own position. In his Commentary to the Torah (to Ex. 20:2), he counts the first verse of the Decalogue as a commandment in its own right, adopting a view similar to that of Maimonides.

[3] Mishneh Torah, Yesodei ha-Torah, 1:1-5.

[4] On the two aspects and names, see Kuzari IV:1-3; and Ramban to Exodus 3:13.

Taken from, http://rabbisacks.org/philosophy-prophecy-vaetchanan-5777/ on August 2, 2017.

 
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Posted by on August 2, 2017 in Uncategorized

 

Fusionar el idealismo y el realismo

Por Rochel Holzkenner

Hay dos tipos de personas: los idealistas y los realistas. Los idealistas sueñan con un mundo con justicia social, sincronía entre el cuerpo y el alma, cuidado ambiental y una vida con más consciencia. Los realistas invierten en objetivos prácticos y alcanzables, como la estabilidad financiera, el manejo del tiempo y un estilo de vida saludable.

En lo personal, me identifico tanto con los idealistas como con los realistas. Creo que es probable que todos seamos un compuesto de ambos, pero que estemos un poquito más de un lado que del otro.

Para ser un verdadero idealista, no debes considerar la resistencia con la que te puedes encontrar al poner en marcha tus sueños. El idealismo puro sigue las máximas de la verdad pura, y no se inclina ante limitaciones ambientales o sociales.

Por otro lado, sin pensamientos realistas, mis sueños se quedarían en el mundo de la fantasía, sin ser nunca puestos a prueba ni validados en el mundo real, sin ayudar jamás a nadie.

En 1940, cuando el sexto Rebe de Jabad Lubavitch, rabí Yosef Yitzchak Schneersohn, viajaba en el barco desde Europa, que estaba abatida por la guerra, hacia América, llamó a uno de sus ayudantes, rabí Hodakov, y le indicó que tomara un bolígrafo y un papel; el Rebe le dictaría y él tenía que escribir. El Rebe luego comenzó a diseñar su plan para fundar un judaísmo próspero en América. Trazó la manera en la que crearía tres instituciones luego de llegar al nuevo país —una editorial y una sección educativa: una para niños y otra para adultos— y delineó los detalles de cada una de ellas.

Luego de dictar sus planes, el Rebe dijo: “Quizás hayas pensado que esperaría a llegar a América para comenzar a formular mis planes. Entonces, podría haber evaluado las necesidades de la comunidad americana y planificar conforme a ellas. ¡No! De haber actuado de ese modo, me habría influenciado lo que hubiera visto, y mi visión de América estaría contaminada. ¡Quiero un judaísmo europeo (intransigente), no un judaísmo americano (concesivo)!”.

La obra de nuestras vidas es integrar nuestros ideales más elevados a una estructura práctica, según dicen los cabalistas. Y esta fusión requiere integridad y mucho trabajo creativo.

¿Cómo será el mundo en la era mesiánica? Los cabalistas lo caracterizan de una manera muy simple: la fusión de los ideales humanos más elevados y un estilo de vida pragmático; un alma en toda su expresión que vive cómoda en un cuerpo material. Eso es lo que llaman un vivir redentor.


Di-s no le permitió a Moshé entrar a la Tierra de Israel. Él le rogó y le imploró a Di-s que lo perdonara y lo dejara entrar. Di-s había perdonado al pueblo judío cuando Moshé suplicó en su nombre, pero cuando se trataba del error del propio Moshé, Di-s no cedió.

Di-s no lo quería en Israel, con pecado o libre de él. El pecado parecía una excusa conveniente; era definitivo: Moshé no iba a entrar.

Esto es difícil de creer si consideramos el hecho de que Moshé nunca quiso el trabajo de líder en primer lugar, y aun así fue un líder sumamente comprometido durante más de cuarenta años. Y ahora, cuando el viaje estaba a punto de terminar y el pueblo finalmente se establecería en una tierra propia, Moshé era excluido.

El Talmud compara a Moshé con la luz del sol y a Ioshua con la luz de la luna.1 Pensemos en la intensidad del sol. Cuando emite sus rayos, todo se ilumina por completo. La luna es más sutil. El cielo permanece negro ante su brillo; la noche conserva su oscura intriga.

El poder de Moshé era tal que si hubiera conducido a los judíos dentro de Israel, las cosas habrían sido simples. Hubieran conquistado la tierra sin demasiados desafíos. Si Moshé hubiera construido el Templo Sagrado, su santidad hubiera sido tan intensa que nunca podrían haberlo destruido.

¡Suena magnífico!

Pero Di-s no quería que fuera así de simple. Sí, Moshé era dinámico y podría haber eclipsado la oscuridad, pero los judíos hubieran sido pasivos y le hubieran dejado hacer el trabajo por ellos. Para hacerse dueños de la tierra, tenían que ser participantes activos.

Ioshua era el candidato perfecto. Era un líder fuerte, pero no tan fuerte como para hacer que la oscuridad desapareciera por completo. Juntos, trabajarían para superar todos los desafíos con los que se enfrentaran hasta asentarse en la tierra de manera definitiva.

El pueblo tenía una visión: establecerse en la Tierra Prometida. En la práctica, era muy difícil cumplir esta visión. Había otros pueblos que vivían en la tierra. Les sería difícil gobernarse a sí mismos, progresar. El liderazgo de Moshé hubiera resuelto estos problemas. Pero Di-s no quería que ellos se perdieran del sano proceso que implica plantar las semillas de las propias visiones en la dura tierra de la realidad. Y eso es lo que tendrían que hacer sin Moshé.

Como si quisiera hacer énfasis en lo sagrada que es la fusión entre la visión y la vida real, en el quinto capítulo del libro de Devarim, Moshé repite los Diez Mandamientos. En su interpretación, sin embargo, la experiencia del Sinaí parece muy distinta. En la versión original, en el libro de Shemot, la Torá cuenta que el Sinaí estaba lleno de humo mientras Di-s descendía sobre él en un fuego. Todo el pueblo temblaba. A las palabras de Di-s las precedían rayos y truenos. Luego de escuchar a Di-s hablarles directamente, el pueblo le rogó a Moshé que repitiera sus palabras, porque cada vez que Di-s hablaba, ellos quedaban inconscientes.

Pero aquí, en la segunda versión, Moshé casi ni menciona todo este espectáculo. Lo que sí cuenta es el efecto que causó en el pueblo la experiencia en el Sinaí. “Se les ha hecho saber que Di-s es su Di-s… En la tierra Di-s mostró su gran fuego y ustedes oyeron sus palabras… Di-s les habló a ustedes cara a cara”.

Los Diez Mandamientos, en Shemot, tienen que ver con Di-s; cuando se repiten en Devarim, tienen que ver con el efecto que tuvieron aquí en la tierra. Juntos, unen el elevado idealismo de la Torá con la realidad de la vida.

Esta fusión exitosa es lo que los sabios llaman la “Torá del Mashíaj”.2

NOTAS AL PIE
1.Bava Batra 75a. Según Rashi (sobre Bamidbar 27:20, basado en el Sifri), esta afirmación tiene una base literal. Luego de descender del monte Sinaí, el rostro de Moshé brillaba con rayos de luz (ver Bereshit 34:29). Años más tarde, cuando Moshé designó oficialmente a Ioshua como su sucesor, le garantizó “su gloria” (Bamidbar, ibid.); pero no toda su gloria. Esto significa que aunque el semblante de Ioshua también brillaba, era tenue en comparación con la luz de Moshé, así como la luna es tenue en comparación con el sol.
2.Basado en la charla que el Rebe dio en Shabat Parashat Va’etjanan 5751 (1991).
Según tomado de, http://es.chabad.org/library/article_cdo/aid/3742620/jewish/Fusionar-el-idealismo-y-el-realismo.htm el 1 de agosto de 2017.
 
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Posted by on August 1, 2017 in Uncategorized

 

Why Do We Wrap the Tefillin Straps 7 Times Around the Arm?

Yehuda Shurpin

The Talmud makes no mention of how many times one should wrap the straps of tefillin around the arm, but the widespread custom is to do so seven times (in addition to first wrapping them around the biceps and later the fingers).1

The ubiquity of this custom can be credited to the Kabbalists, specifically Rabbi Isaac Luria, known as the the Arizal (1534–1572).

The Seven Maidservants

The Arizal explains that wrapping the tefillin around the arm seven times corresponds to the verse in the book of Esther2 that relates how Esther was given “seven maidens fitting to give her from the king’s house . . .”3

Many correlate the “seven maidens” to seven specific angels4 that the Zohar connects to this verse.5 Others explain it refers to the seven “chambers,” or sefirot,of the spiritual worlds.6

Seven Attributes

The purpose of tefillin is to bind our mind and emotions to G‑d. The mind is represented by the tefillin of the head, and the emotions are represented by the positioning of the arm tefillin near our hearts, the seat of emotion. Devoting our emotions to G‑d—i.e. developing a love and awe for the Creator— impacts our behavior; thus, the emotive tefillin are placed on the arm, which symbolizes action.

Jewish mysticism teaches that there are seven primary emotions (see The Sefirot); thus, some explain that we wrap the straps seven times around our arm to represent these emotions.7

A Wedding

Tefillin are a symbol of the loving relationship between the Jewish nation and G‑d, which is analogous to the relationship between a husband and wife. Seven blessings are recited at a wedding ceremony, and many have the custom for the bride to circle the groom seven times. Accordingly, when we put on tefillin, the straps are wrapped around the arm seven times.9

(This is also why we additionally wrap the tefillin straps around our fingers, representing the ring a husband gives his wife under the chuppah.10 Indeed, some have the custom, while wrapping the strap around their fingers, to recite the verse “And I will betroth you to Me forever, and I will betroth you to Me with righteousness and with justice and with loving-kindness and with mercy. And I will betroth you to Me with faith, and you shall know the Lord.”11)

Seven Coils = Seven Words

The seven coils of the arm tefillin correspond to the seven words in the verse12 “פּוֹתֵ֥חַ “אֶת־יָדֶ֑ךָ וּמַשְׂבִּ֖יעַ לְכָל־חַ֣י רָצֽוֹן– “You open Your hand and satisfy every living thing [with] its desire.”13

(This verse is considered a central point of our daily prayers. In fact, we recite Ashrei in our daily prayers because it contains this verse. Furthermore, unlike almost all other verses in our prayers, the halachah is that if one recited this verse without thinking about the intent of the words, he must repeat it.14)

When we put on tefillin, we are connecting our mind and heart to G‑d. Some therefore say that the seven coils relate to the seven words in the verse15“וְאַתֶּם הַדְּבֵקִים בַּה׳ אֱלֹקיכֶם חַיִּים כֻּלְּכֶם הַיּוֹם”—“But you who cleave to the L‑rd your G‑d are alive, all of you, this day.”16

Subduing the Evil Inclination

The Talmud tells us that throughout Scripture, the yezter hara—evil inclination—is referred to by seven names,17 each representing a different aspect of the evil inclination. We put the tefillin on our left—inferior—hand and wrap the straps around seven times to subdue the forces of impurity and our evil inclination, which resides in the left side of our body.18

Shabbat—The Other Sign

Our sages teach that we were given three signs that represent the covenant between G‑d and His people: Shabbat, circumcision and tefillin. Circumcision is constant, and tefillin are worn daily. The seven coils ensure that Shabbat is also represented every day.19

Seven Heavens—Seven Branches of the Menorah

When we put on tefillin, we connect with G‑d and draw down holiness and divine light into the world. Based on this, some explain that the seven coils represent either the seven heavens20 or the seven branches of the Menorah in the holy Temple, which brought spiritual light into the world.21

For more on the mitzvah of tefillin, visit Tefillin and Its Significance.

FOOTNOTES
1.Even those who appear to wrap eight times are essentially conforming to this custom.
2.Esther 2:9.
3.Pri Etz Chaim, Shaar HaTefillin 10; Shaar HaKevanot, Tefillin 5; Olat Tamid, p. 34b.
4.They are the angels Michael, Gabriel, Raphael, Uriel, Tzadikel, Uphiel, and Raziel.
5.Zohar Chodosh, Shir Hashirim 64a; see also Igra D’parka 109; Brit David p. 120; Maaseh Breishit, vol. 3, p. 10.
6.See Kovetz Makvatzial, p. 94-96, where he cites various Kabbalists (including the Kabbalist Rabbi Tzemach, who quotes Rabbi Shmuel Vital) regarding the meaning of the “seven maidens.”
7.Mavo l’Torat Chassidut (Ekstein), p. 108; Al Avoteinu V’al Yechusom, p. 73.
8.Totzot Chaim.
9.Sefer Matamim, Tefillin 12.
10.Reishit Chachmah, Shaar HaKedushah, ch. 6.
11.Hosea 2:21-22.
12.Psalms 145:16.
13.See Aruch Hashulchan, Orech Chaim 27:19.
14.Shulchan Aruch Harav, Orech Chaim 51:8.
15.Deuteronomy 4:4.
16.Divrei Yechezkel Hachadash, p. 319.
17.Talmud, Sukkah 52a.
18.Otzar Kol Minhagei Yeshurun 65:4, citing the Sefer Maaseh Ilfas; Sefer Brit David, p. 121.
19.Higyonei Aharon, Likutim.
20.Tiferet Yisroel (Fishman), p. 338.
21.Ner Mitzvah (Meshash), p. 188; see also the Sefer Sod Chashmal, p. 78, 345.
As taken from, http://www.chabad.org/library/article_cdo/aid/479863/jewish/Why-Wrap-the-Tefillin-Straps-7-Times.htm  on August 1, 2017.
 
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WHO IS THE SOVEREIGN ON TEMPLE MOUNT?

WHO IS THE SOVEREIGN ON TEMPLE MOUNT?

BYMICHAEL LAITMAN
 JULY 26, 2017 23:06

This Tuesday, we will mark the 9th of Av, when the Temple was destroyed. The Temple represents our unity. When we restore our union, we will not need bricks to prove our place is here in Israel.

THE TEMPLE MOUNT in Jerusalem, the site of a deadly attack last week.

It is no secret that the Arab smear campaign in the media and the organized “popular” protests against the placement of metal detectors at the entrances to the Temple Mount have nothing to do with security measures. From the perspective of the Wakf (the Islamic organization controlling and managing the Temple Mount), and the rest of the Arab world, the resistance to the detectors represents the resistance to Israel’s sovereignty on Temple Mount in particular, in the city of Jerusalem, and in all of Israel. The longer this campaign lasts, the more the Arabs will gain the favor of the world, and Israel will increasingly be seen as the bully in the neighborhood.

By now, hardly anyone remembers that the detectors were placed at the entrances because three terrorists opened fire on Israeli police, killing two officers and wounding a third. All that everyone sees now is that Israel is not letting Muslims pray in their holy site, when in fact, the only people keeping worshippers outside the Temple Mount are the Wakf, who are telling worshippers not to enter in protest of the placement of detectors.

The Temple—the Unity of Israel

Not only the Wakf objects to Israel’s authority on Temple Mount. The resolutions of UNESCO denying the Jewish history on Temple Mount, Jerusalem, and the Cave of the Patriarchs in Hebron represent the view of the entire world that we do not belong here. If the UN were to vote today on the establishment of a Jewish state, who would vote “Yes”? Probably not even America.

To be a sovereign in the land of Israel, and particularly on Temple Mount, you must understand what the Temple represents and lead your life accordingly. The book Netzah Israel (Chapter 4) writes, “The House was ruined due to unfounded hatred, for their hearts divided and they parted and were unworthy of a Temple, which is the unity of Israel.”

If we honestly reflect on our society, on what we project to the world, it is clear that we are deeply divided and project disunity and discord everywhere. The Maharal of Prague writes in Hidushey Avot (Gittin 55b): “The Temple should be the wholeness of the entire world, not of Israel alone. …Since the Temple is the wholeness of the entire world, the nations included, it was not ruined by the nations, but only by unfounded hatred and division, when Israel divided.”

In other words, the Temple does not belong to any one nation or faith; it represents the unification of the world. Therefore, only those who advocate and execute unity merit being there. The Hebrew word Yehudi (Jew) comes from the word yihudi, meaning united (Yaarot Devash, Part 2, Drush no. 2). When we, Jews, united “as one man with one heart,” it was the first and only time in history when people of different, often rival clans from all over Babylon and the Near East united and forged a nation. Our unity, therefore, was a model for the entire world to follow. As a result, immediately following the establishment of our peoplehood, we were commanded to be “a light unto nations,” to take our method of unity to the rest of humanity.

The book Sefat Emet (Shemot, Yitro) describes what it means to be “a light unto nations”: “The children of Israel are guarantors in that they received the Torah [the light of unity] in order to correct the entire world.” But if we are not united, and therefore do not project unity to the rest of the world, can we truly regard ourselves as the “children of Israel”? And if we are not truly the children of Israel, united like the children of Israel are meant to be, can we claim sovereignty over the land?

The Sedition Conquered the City, and the Romans Conquered the Sedition

Jewish-Roman historian Josephus Flavius lived at the time of the ruin and witnessed many of the events first hand. He wrote very clearly about the causes of the ruin of the Temple and the exile (The Wars of the Jews, Book IV, Chapter 6): “The sedition [among the Jews] conquered the city, and the Romans conquered the sedition.” In the days of the Temple, Flavius details, “The attribute the [Jews] lacked most was mercy. …They transferred their rage from the living to the slain, and from the slain to the living [of their own people]. The terror was so great that the survivors called the dead ‘happy,’ as they were already at rest. … These men trampled upon all the laws of men [love of others], and ridiculed the words of the prophets. Yet, these prophets foretell … that the city should be taken and the sanctuary burnt by war when a sedition invades the Jews, and their own hand should pollute the Temple. Now these zealots … made themselves the instruments of the fulfillment [of the prophecies].”

When you think of the current hatred between the two sides of the political map in Israel, or between the two sides of the political map among US Jews, the similarities to the enmity among our ancestors are too striking to ignore. “At the end of the period of the Second Temple,” writes the book A Letter from Elijah (Part 3), “strife and hatred intensified in Israel, and pride was the root of the desire for absolute dominance. This brought them into hatred of their fellow person until they could not stand the very existence of the other. From that root of pride also emerged the audacity to sin shamelessly, for they did not perceive the contradiction between their actions and their views, and their conscience did not cause them to conceal their actions. And if they do not care about the conflict between their views and their actions, then they are regarded as ‘all sin.’ These are the things that caused the ruin of the House.”

A Land without a Sovereign

Today, we have a state, and we seemingly have sovereignty. But the name, “The State of Israel,” is still devoid of content. Our intolerance toward each other, our disdain toward our own people is skyrocketing. If we do not realize that we are repeating the same crime of unfounded hatred we committed two millennia ago, we will be banished from this land again until we are ready to unite above our differences as did our forefathers in the desert.

This Monday evening, we will mark the ninth of Av, the date when the Temple was destroyed. But it was destroyed in our hearts long before the bricks were set ablaze. With these compelling words, The Hida describes this inner ruin (Devarim Achadim, Tractate no. 6): “What can we say when we regret all day the ruin of the House and the [absence of] redemption? …It was all ruined because of unfounded hatred, and if we are disunited now and there is unfounded hatred, how can the House be built, since the cause of our ruin has not ceased from us? How can we say that we await Your salvation all the day while there is still unfounded hatred in our midst? Woe, how can man do good deeds as long as his impurity of baseless hatred is still in him?”

To be the landlords in the land of Israel, we must become once more the people of Israel, yehudim [Jews] from the word, yihudi [united]. Unless we reconstruct our unity and reassume our commitment to be a beacon of unity unto nations, the world will not support our being here and we will be expelled once more.

Sovereignty in the land of Israel is unlike the sovereignty in any other land—acquired by military might. This land has no sovereign; its dwellers are people who are willing to connect, to unite above their hatred, just like our forefathers. If we can learn the lesson from the horrors of our ancestors and transcend our selfish egos, we will merit staying here, and the entire world will be behind us. But if we opt once more for enmity, then we will suffer the hostility of the entire world, but not before we scuffle with each other once again.

As taken from, http://www.jpost.com/Opinion/Who-is-the-sovereign-on-Temple-Mount-500857 on July 30, 2017.

 
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Posted by on July 30, 2017 in Uncategorized