15th Iyar: The Origins of the Omer

“They journeyed from Elim, and the entire community of the children of Israel came to the desert of Sin, which is between Elim and Sinai, on the fifteenth day of the second month after their departure from the land of Egypt. The entire community of the children of Israel complained against Moshe and against Aharon in the desert. The children of Israel said to them, If only we had died by the hand of the Lord in the land of Egypt, when we sat by pots of meat, when we ate bread to our fill! For you have brought us out into this desert, to starve this entire congregation to death” (Shemot 16:1-3).

In the Jewish calendar, we see many months contain an historical event of note on the fifteenth of the month, for example Pesach, Shushan Purim and Tu B'Av. The essence of these months are defined by the month's central event, hence Nisan is considered the month of redemption. I would like to suggest that in the same manner, the month of Iyar is also defined by the event that took place on its fifteenth of the month: the giving of the manna.

In the first year of the Exodus, the Jewish people did not have an easy journey from leaving slavery in Egypt to arriving at Mount Sinai to accept the Torah. They had five major difficulties on the way: war with Egypt at the Yam Suf; no water at Marah; no food in Midbar Sin; no water at Masa U'merivah; war with Amalek at Refidim. Of these, the most serious and fundamental challenge to the Jewish people and its relationship with God was the manna, given by God in response to their complaints of food.

It is the complaint of food that first brought the accusation against Moshe and Aharon that their entire motive of the Exodus was to starve the people. Beforehand, when the people complained about a lack of water, their complaints did not reach this level of criticism, as they simply asked 'What shall we drink?' The manna, as a response to this complaint, was certainly the most difficult change for the people to implement. They struggled with the idea that they had to take all of the manna that fell, and not leave any for the morning - and even more so on Friday, when they had to trust that the food would last them two days.

Following years of slavery, the people could deal with the challenges of war, which required an immediate salvation. They could also deal with the challenge of a lack of water, since if it was there, they would drink it, and if it wasn't they would ask and immediately receive it. Yet the challenge of not being able to make food constituted a fundamental change in attitudes to daily life. It is not natural or pleasant to be reliant on someone else to provide food for one's family. However bad slavery was, it allowed people a modicum of this aspect of normal life.

The purpose of the manna, and the reason why it needed to be eaten for an entire generation, was to inculcate in the people the fundamental truth that wherever they are in the world, all sustenance is ultimately bestowed by God. The manna was never intended to be an ideal. Rather, it was a practice for the ultimate test: living in the Land of Israel, working in agriculture, producing one's own food and realising that at every turn, the final product was only possible due to God's guiding hand and providence.

It is fascinating, therefore, that the first time we encounter the word 'omer', it is in the context of the giving of the manna on the fifteenth of Iyar, and appears six times in the chapter. The omer is a measurement, and the amount for each person to take of manna each day. The Torah is very precise about this, mentioning that the people measured it, and describing the omer relative to other measurements (it was a tenth of an ephah).

And it is this very same measurement that the Jewish people are commanded to bring before God as an offering, "when they come to the Land...and you reap its harvest" (Vayikra 23:10). The Torah in brief, and the Mishna in detail, explain how the Cohen waves the omer before God as a sign of the people's acknowledgement that it is God who gives sustenance to the people. The significance of using an omer's worth of produce should not be missed: it is through the omer of manna that the people internalised this truth.

The ritual of Seder Night teaches us to appreciate our political reality - freedom as opposed to slavery, and how it was God who gave us it. The ritual of the Omer teaches us to appreciate something even more fundamental: our very existence as human beings depends on His sustenance. Perhaps this is why the Omer ritual was to be performed on the sixteenth of Nisan, the very next day after Pesach and the Seder night.

Yet the Torah does not merely proscribe the internalisation of this message to one day. Rather, after describing the Korban Omer (Omer sacrifice) performed by the Cohen, the Torah commands each and every person to count "for themselves" the days from when the Omer was first brought (16th Nisan) for seven complete weeks (Vayikra 23:15), after which a 'new offering' of bread is brought, on the holiday known as Shavuot. Through these mitzvot, we see that the process of the Omer is an individual and national journey of appreciating the level of interaction between God and the Jewish people. God is not 'merely' a power that can free the people from slavery, or conjure up water, but rather nurtures us constantly, creating the conditions by which man can produce his own food, and live each day in appreciation of how he is able to do it.

A month after the Exodus, the fifteenth of Iyar saw the biggest challenge of the post-Exodus plan. In the same way that the short-term response to it was far-reaching in its ramifications, with the people eating manna for 40 years, the long-term response was similarly far reaching, with the mitzvah of counting the Omer encompassing every day of the month of Iyar each year. Therefore as we count the Omer today, like all other days, and internalise the reality that God is the ultimate source of all our physical day-to-day needs, we transform a day that could have created an irreparable rift between the Jewish people and God to one that cements our interdependence, and everlasting relationship.

Israeli Elections Day: The Festival of Freedom

Whether right, left or centre, the one thing all Israelis agree on is that they are happy today is a national holiday. As a religious person, it makes a pleasant change to have a day off that doesn't include biblically-ordained restrictions. As a British person, it seems bizarre to miss a whole day of work for an action that takes a few minutes. But I have come to realise that the reason why we don't work is because today is truly a national holiday.

For most of the campaign, I have imagined that holiday to be somewhat of an extension of Purim. The extravagant warnings of dire consequences of voting for the other side that we constantly hear. The numerous amount of humourous political video clips. Netanyahu's narrative that if we don't vote for him, the Persians will finally succeed in destroying the Jews, who only he can save. I have thoroughly enjoyed the last few months of Israeli politics, but I wish it had only remained in the realm of the 'Purim Spiel'.

However as the day approached and the time came to finally decide who I was going to vote for, I realised that Election Day can really be compared to Pesach, the time of our freedom. On Purim, the Jews were bystanders as Mordechai and Esther contrived to save the Jewish people, but on Pesach every family and person made their own contribution to the Exodus by sacrificing the Korban Pesach and painting blood on the door. A small act, and indeed nothing on the scale of Moshe and Aharon's actions - let alone God's - but an act nonetheless. The moment when the people defied their Egyptian taskmasters and followed this mitzvah was when they became a free people, placing their destiny in their own hands.

My individual act of voting may seem a small act, making relatively little impact when cast alone. But as part of a nation, we as a collective are able to choose our own destiny. Today is a modern day Chag Hacherut, festival of freedom. It is unlike other Jewish festivals, both modern and ancient, in one stark way: You have to live in Israel. It is possible to celebrate great historical events and miracles anywhere in the world, but to create the history for future generations, you can only be in this land.

And it was for this purpose that I made Aliyah. When I vote in an Israeli election, I am able to play a part in shaping the future for the world's only Jewish state, and in fact the Jewish people entire. Rather than speculating and analysing from afar, I now have to get off the fence, choose a direction and be prepared to face the consequences. In football terms, it's the difference between being a commentator and a manager. Being a manager is much harder, and forces you to take risks - but that's how success is achieved.

It was only after this realisation that I decided how I would vote. One of my options was to vote for one of the two main parties because Israel would benefit from two-party dominance, and this would assuage the concerns I had in voting that party in. Another option was to vote tactically, based on who I would prefer to be Prime Minister, how the coalition negotiations would pan out and what I think other voters would end up doing on the day. But as much as I believe in the two-party system, and as much as I am fascinated by the coalition permutations to Carling Opta proportions, those shouldn't be reasons why I should vote for a certain party. With one vote, I can't second guess the entire population, and I can't single-handedly change the political system in one day.

Rather, I will vote for the party that I believe has the best vision for what Israel should look like tomorrow, with the desire to work tirelessly towards that goal. After all, that's what I came to the country to do. And as I prepare to place my card in the ballot box, I will for the first time understand the line of the Hatikvah, "To be a free people in our land". Chag Sameach!

Guide to the Persian Elections 2015

It's been a year of turmoil for Persian politics. Following a year of war, internal palace backstabbing and political maneuvering, Persians are once again going to the polls. Here's a short overview of the leading candidates and parties aiming to take control of Persia in the elections taking place in Adar 2015.

Likud

Led by Achashveirosh, nicknamed "King Achashveirosh", who is entering his 12th year in charge of the party, the Likud are seen as the most likely party to win the Persian elections. However recently the party has been rocked by an expenses scandal involving Achashveirosh's excessive spending at feasts paid for by taxes which he levied. Achashveirosh's major platform is security, and preventing the Greeks from obtaining a nuclear javelin. However, many people point to the wars, civil unrest and attempted assassinations and question Achashveirosh's security credentials. Despite all this, Achashveirosh's fluent declarations in each people's language and script still make him a strong candidate, and polls show that he is still liked by "most of his brethren".

Persian Union

The newly-formed Persian Union is the main challenger to Achashveirosh for the kingship, and their 'it's us or him' campaign, and calls for a 'revolution' have succeeded in making this a two-horse race around Shushan. The surprise of the campaign was the alliance of two former political rivals, Haman and Vashti, who have committed to sharing the throne in the next term of office should they win the election. The two leaders come from contrasting backgrounds; whereas Haman has always been a rival of Mordechai and a champion of the left, Vashti has had a nomadic career, which started with her being second on Achashveirosh's list, a position which ended when she refused to come to a crucial cabinet meeting and was subsequently sacked by him. Haman's lack of charisma means that he faces a battle to win over the electorate, who regularly make fun of his voice at public events all over the country.

Mordechai Hayehudi

Formerly known as the National Religious Party, the Mordechai Hayehudi party promotes the Jewish people's return to the homeland and is hawkish on many issues of religion and state. It's main platform is that Persia's provincial system does not work, and it wants Shushan to annex two thirds of Persia's 127 provinces and bring them under Persian law. This would mean that controversial laws such as 'making each man dominion over his wife' would be extended, thus placing into question Mordechai's attempts to modernise the party (though this is slightly mitigated by his placing of Esther as number 2 on his list). His publicity stunt of not bowing down to Haman, and social media campaign encouraging others to not bow down to things they don't worship, has elicited criticisms of scaremongering. However Mordechai, who once worked as Chief of Staff of Achashveirosh's office, is increasingly being touted for the top job in Persia.

Yesh Atid

This relatively new party was formed by Bigtan before the last elections, and took the country by storm. Previously a TV show host, Bigtan was famous for his on-screen partnership with Teresh, and the two co-hosted famous shows such as 'Persian Idol' and 'Xerxes Factor', which eventually produced Esther as a celebrity wife for Achashveirosh. Bigtan's political career soured following a fall-out with Achashveirosh, where the latter famously accused Bigtan of trying to mount a coup. The situation escalated when Mordechai told Achashveirosh that Bigtan was preparing an assassination attempt on him, and Achashveirosh subsequently dissolved the government. Disgraced, and the loser of a personal political dual with Mordechai, Bigtan is not expected to win many seats this time around.

Culanu

Culanu is a new party led by Charvonah, and could be the surprise package of this election. Charvona is seen as a populist, whose main platform is the targeting of rich magnates who inflict evil on the population. His sudden rise to fame came in preventing Haman from destroying the Jewish people by hanging him on the gallows he made for Mordechai. However aides of Achashveirosh are at pains to point out that this policy was only successful due to Achashveirosh's strong leadership and approval of the plan. That being said, it was Charvona who took the credit and will be remembered for good.

Wanstead and Woodford Synagogue: End of an Era

This article was written for the Shul Times, the newsletter of Wanstead and Woodford Synagogue, Parashat Beshallach 5775.

"We shape our buildings, and afterwards our buildings shape us" - Sir Winston Churchill, MP for Wanstead and Woodford

Some shuls are renowned for their beautiful architecture. Others boast an illustrious list of famous rabbis or worshippers. Many can trace their roots back hundreds of years. Wanstead and Woodford Synagogue, in North East London, does not fall into any of these categories. Yet as we approach its final Shabbat before merging to form a new community, I believe that this shul leaves a legacy far more meaningful than design, history and famous people.

From the outset, the founder members designed a building to fit the needs of the community. The creation of multi-purpose open spaces as opposed to fixed furniture allowed the shul to be a 'Beit Knesset', a house of assembly, in the fullest sense of the word. And I would suggest that the very nature of the building has shaped the community: whereas some shuls prioritise the preservation of the building above all else, in Wanstead and Woodford, the focus was always on the people, not the building. We'll move the chairs and pews to fit the purpose, because that's what the community needs. We aren't beholden to what was, but rather embrace change to fit the present. Every person is important and precious.

These attitudes explain why when I was growing up, young people were encouraged to take part in services, hold youth service 'takeovers' of the main shul, run our own youth minyan, have free rein of the shul to run a very successful branch of Bnei Akiva and even paint a 'BA room' in a classroom! Shabbatot and chagim were geared towards children, and we were encouraged to take part in every aspect of shul life. It was in Wanstead and Woodford that I learned how to daven, leyen, give a shiur, dance at a simcha, run an event, speak to people of all ages, hold an explanatory service - and above all, care about the Jewish people. And it's not just me - many of my friends and peers gained tremendously from the responsibility they undertook, and it's no surprise to see those who grew up in Wanstead and Woodford active in all fields of Jewish life, such as J-Soc activists, youth movement workers, teachers, school governors, rabbis and much more.

The constant focus on education is entrenched in the nature of the Wanstead and Woodford community. When there was an educational programme after the Shabbat morning service, I was often amazed to see well over half of those who came in the morning staying to learn Torah. For many years, the shul's own nursery, staffed mainly by teachers from the community, gave hundreds of children a great start in life, and connected them and their families with their local shul. I have been privileged to run explanatory services on Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur, a project which grew in interest each year in spite of declining numbers at High Holydays services.

One of the most incredible aspects of the shul has been the absolute determination to maintain the highest religious standards, and particularly to ensure there is always a minyan. In the face of an ageing community and a gradual exodus to North West London of committed members, the fact that a daily Shacharit minyan has been maintained appears nothing short of a miracle, but was made a reality by a small group of dedicated people. I don't ever remember a time when more than 15 people came to Shabbat Mincha on a regular basis, but I have also never heard anyone question the viability of holding it.

However, the minyan wasn't just about getting 10 men and rushing through the service. There was always time to daven, time to sing Hallel, and sing new tunes. In recent years, a 'Carlebach' Kabbalat Shabbat became the norm, not the exception, including frequent bursts of dancing. Even the saying of 'Ma'aravot' and 'Veyiten Lecha' signalled a desire to go above and beyond, adding more holiness to the service. Whether it was the Hakafot on Simchat Torah led by the youth, which always lasted for hours, or Neilah services, with the entire shul singing loudly, Wanstead and Woodford has provided many people with countless religious experiences that are truly without parallel.

At the heart of all the amazing things listed above is the fact that the community displays a genuine warmth and kindness. Welcoming guests, raising money for tzedaka and Shabbat hospitality are just a few examples of the trait of chesed that runs through the shul. I am truly privileged to have been surrounded by these people for many years, and the community has been one of the greatest influences on my life. To have been a part of the Wanstead and Woodford community is one of the greatest honours I will ever have, and I will be forever indebted to all those who founded, maintained and led it. And the greatest testament to what Wanstead and Woodford Synagogue stands for is its decision to place the future ahead of the past and merge to form a new shul, Woodford Forest United Synagogue, which will serve the needs of the community for many years to come. B'hatzlacha!

I'm sorry, I haven't a clue

Please, thanks and sorry. Three simple words that formed the cornerstone of my earliest sentences. They were not superfluous extras, and if I did not mention one of them where appropriate, a reminder from my parents would swiftly follow.

All three words are admissions that you are in some way reliant on others in order to co-exist together. If you don’t apologise, it means you don’t need other people to carry on. If you don’t say please, you imply that others are there to serve you. If you don’t thank someone, you are failing to appreciate what you have. These three implications cut to the core of the most fundamental ethics of Jewish teaching; that of loving one’s fellow, treating people with respect and appreciating what one has.

I started thinking about this idea when I saw the Bayit Yehudi (National Home) Party’s new satirical promotional clip on Facebook. It features leader Naftali Bennett dressed up as a hipster, walking around Tel Aviv apologising for things he clearly hasn’t done. A waitress spills coffee over him, a car drives into his and a lady takes a bike he was about to take – and in all three cases, he apologises. After reading an article in the left-wing newspaper Ha’aretz entitled ‘Israel must apologise’, he reveals himself and announces that “from today, we stop apologising”.

Without entering into the political implications of this promotion, the satirising of an apology as weakness is a very dangerous step. In one of the Torah’s most dramatic moments, Yehuda, who had descended into a cycle of sin and depravity apologises for his actions, admitting he was wrong. God viewed this as a sign of strength, not weakness, and it is because of this episode that Yehuda was able to assume the mantle of Jewish leadership, and ultimately kingship, for all time.

Living and working in Israel, and specifically in the Religious Zionist community, my anecdotal perception is that people say please, thanks and sorry less in Israel than in Britain. This perception is compounded by the many times I have heard Israelis make fun of British people for being polite. Don’t worry, I have a sense of humour – but I don’t find this joke funny. I am proud to maintain my British manners of saying please, thanks and sorry even when my parents are in another country – and I won’t apologise for it.

I agree that people – and states – should not apologise for things they haven’t done wrong and should apologise for things they have. But even this basic level of nuance is not reflected in his ‘anti-apologist’ message. What starts as a political campaign could well reinforce societal norms. Israeli society on a day-to-day level needs people to start healing wounds with one another, and could do with its leadership promoting the notion of apologising when relevant.

It could be that Naftali Bennett has a point that the Bayit Yehudi, or more broadly Israel, needs to be less apologetic for its beliefs and actions. However with this strategy, he is playing around with one of the traits most crucial to maintaining Israel as a tolerant and inclusive society. It is time for those of us who have grown up with a culture of saying please, thanks and sorry to unashamedly bring these words, and associated concepts, to the discourse of Israeli society. If we can’t, well, I’m sorry, I haven’t a clue.

The Squeezed Middle of the Big Society

In the post-modern, multicultural and globalised world we live in today, it is much harder for western countries to define a sense of national identity and shared values. The UK is a prime case in point. Should it define itself through its Christian, imperial history or its multicultural, liberal present? In the days of New Labour, the latter was stressed. Now, following the ‘Trojan Horse’ scandal, the Coalition government are moving to the former.

Beyond this debate lies the UK’s Jewish community, happily going about its business. British Jews, with a long history of loyalty to Queen and country, a religious and cultural predisposition to integrate into a host country’s society and a broad sharing of values with modern Britain, seem to be above this kind of national identity crisis. Defining its relationship with mainstream British culture by its contribution to it, which has undoubtedly been disproportionately influential, the Jewish community’s place within British society is seemingly beyond question.

Or perhaps not. In Sir Michael Wilshaw’s (Head of Ofsted) Advice Note to the UK government in light of ‘Trojan Horse’, where inspections revealed that groups of governors with Islamic extremist tendencies had dramatically altered the ethos of some state schools in Birmingham in accordance with their agendas, he says that “in culturally homogeneous communities, schools are often the only places where children can learn about other faiths, other cultures and other styles of living”. As a result, all schools – including faith schools, will be required to “promote the values of wider British society”.

Although this policy seems innocuous, it could well represent a fatal blow to the right of the Jewish community to define the way it wants to live in the UK. Most would agree that Jewish schools prepare their students for life in modern Britain – even Charedi schools, who, despite their radically conservative approach, still produce law-abiding and respectful citizens. However they do much more than this. Whether it is Zionist principles of Jewish nationalism, support for the IDF and a positive disposition towards Aliyah or religious Jewish principles of fighting assimilation, traditional family values and differing roles for men and women, any inspection focusing on beliefs and attitudes within Jewish schools will put them on collision course with Ofsted and call into question their very existence within society.

The fundamental shift here is the switch from defining a minority community’s relationship with mainstream society by contribution, to one by belief. Although there are certainly problems with extremist values being taught in schools, turning Ofsted into the ‘thought police’ sets a dangerous precedent.

British politics is experiencing a polarisation of views to both the left and the right. The disaffected liberal middle class is pushing Labour towards the left, abandoning Tony Blair’s ‘third way’, whilst the disaffected working class is pushing the Conservatives towards the right, manifested indirectly through widespread support for UKIP. The Jewish community is becoming abandoned in the middle. Support for the IDF arouses the ire of the left, whilst the concept of a dual loyalty to Britain and Israel will soon cross a red line for the right.

History has a tendency to repeat itself. Jews have always been the enemy of the far left and the far right. However, bad things happen when they are attacked from both sides simultaneously. And what’s more, of all the issues to affect the Jewish community, it is the right to educate children in the Jewish way that represents one of the absolute fundamentals of Jewish life.

Ironically, it is the Jewish people who taught the western world the value of education and the right of every child to receive one. It is the Jewish people who have vast and successful experience of teaching Jewish values in a host country. It is the Jewish people who have consistently integrated into cultures the world over, bringing their own vigour and creativity to improving the society around them.

The UK Jewish community are fast becoming the 'Squeezed Middle' of the 'Big Society'. But sadly, neither Ed Miliband nor David Cameron seem to be paying attention.

Singing in Auschwitz

An open letter to the Director of the Auschwitz Birkenau Memorial and Museum.

I am the head of the World Bnei Akiva MTA programme, whose visit to Auschwitz on Friday 1st August has garnered much publicity throughout Israel and the Jewish world due to the detention and fining of its tour guide, Rabbi Rafi Ostroff.

Since the story has broken, your policy has been to defend the actions of your security personnel. Your PR department has made numerous comments on Facebook, including many examples of inaccurate reports about our group's behaviour. These include, but are not limited to: running around the site, not having a memorial guide and waving flags so that other visitors had to move away quickly. You have described our behaviour as "awful" and claimed that we were "disrupting public order". You have admitted that groups are able to sing "at the top of their lungs" when they are "alone" on the site, yet your police drove over to stop the group singing when no-one was around (see picture).

You followed a policy of constantly responding to posts about this incident, however the result has been that your story has been inconsistent. In some - but not all - cases, you have apologised for making inaccurate claims about our group and mixing it up with other groups on site. In addition to this, you claim to have video footage of the event, and to have received "numerous" complaints by visitors and guides. But you haven't specified how many, nor have you released the video.

You have constantly talked about the requirement for sensitivity within the site, yet I have not seen you address the lack of sensitivity displayed by your security personnel throughout the day, which could have prevented this incident from escalating. In particular, but not exclusively, I am referring to the incident which actually resulted in the calling of the police, which followed the group singing on the path from 'Mexico' towards the convent, and then towards the exit with no-one else in sight. The security officer, who drove out of his way to challenge us, approached me and we had a long conversation. I tried to defuse the situation, saying that the boys are not disturbing anyone and will be out of the site in a minute. His decision to escalate matters by insisting they stopped singing at the exit (see picture), detaining Rabbi Ostroff and eventually calling the police displayed a lack of sensitivity towards our group at a site that requires it more than any other.

You have also tried to claim that ours was an isolated incident, yet I know of two other groups who also faced similar problems with security personnel in Auschwitz over the last few weeks. Given that singing by Jewish groups in Auschwitz is an established practice for many years, I find it hard to believe that the general demeanour of Jewish groups has changed recently. Indeed, this was my third visit to Auschwitz as part of a group of young Jewish people and each time we have sung at the same locations and conducted ourselves in the same way without any issue with the site management. As a principle, singing slow and sad songs is how Jewish people commemorate and memorialise the Holocaust, and remember their loved ones at sites where their family members perished, especially Auschwitz.

As a result of all this, I request that you personally write a letter to the 18-year-old members of the group and apologise for spreading mistruths about their conduct, in addition to apologising to Rabbi Ostroff for the incident itself. I also request that rather than punishing the participants by taking away 1000 zloties from their group's budget, you return the money, which I will put towards more Holocaust education for the programme. Finally, I ask that you initiate a training programme for your staff in order for them to understand the sensitivities required with regard to Jewish and Israeli groups.