Category Archives: Talmud

Demolition orders have been issued against several structures at the Meron holy site in the wake of the Meron disaster in April, and footage has emerged of work to execute those orders.These developments have given rise to concerns, among families of those who perished in the disaster, that the investigation to be carried out by a state commission of inquiry will be compromised by changing facts on the ground at the site.

On April 30, 45 men and boys, mostly ultra-Orthodox died in a mass crush on Mount Meron, the traditional site of the tomb of Talmudic sage Shimon Bar Yochai, where tens of thousands of pilgrims had gathered for the annual Lag Baomer celebrations.

Last month, the new government voted to establish a state commission of inquiry into the disaster, and the committee is now being established.

On Wednesday, however, images emerged of demolition notices posted at several structures at the Meron site issued by the Northern District branch of the Authority for Land Enforcement.

The orders were signed by the director of the Northern District David Ohayon, dated June 17, and posted at the site on June 20, the day the committee of enquiry was approved by the government. One of the demolition orders is against a 350 square meter raised balcony, and another against a pathway at the site.

Further images emerged on Wednesday in which large trucks and cranes can be seen at Meron, with workmen dismantling some structures, including bleachers in the so-called Boyan section of the site.

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According to the Finance Ministry, under whose auspices the Authority for Land Enforcement operates, four demolition orders were ordered by Ohayon against structures erected in recent months.

Asked about the images of some structures being dismantled, a ministry spokesperson said the ministry did not know what was being taken down in the picture, but repeated that none of the four demolition orders had yet been executed and needed the approval of the police.

It did not respond to a request for information as to which exact structures were under the demolition order.

A spokesman for the Forum of Families of Meron Victims said that the families were very concerned that the demolition orders were being carried out before the state committee of inquiry had a chance to visit and examine the site.

The spokesman said the families were concerned that the demolition orders were designed to cover up evidence regarding the causes behind the disaster and said the forum might appeal to the High Court of Justice to stop the demolitions.

Excerpt from:

How will demolition order for Meron affect investigation into disaster? - The Jerusalem Post

The local Jewish community might have been shocked last week when HaMaqom | The Place, the Berkeley-based adult education organization known for decades as Lehrhaus Judaica, announced that it would be shutting its doors at the end of the summer session.

But the institutions leadership was not caught off guard. Financial woes had been growing at the nonprofit, although chief financial and operating officer Jaimie Baxter, speaking to J. on Monday, declined to say when the troubles began.

We were financially stable and secure for quite some time due to the generosity of several funders and donors mixed together, was all Baxter would say. Every year is different in the financial landscape of Jewish nonprofits. The funder landscape is ever shifting.

Founded in 1974, Lehrhaus/HaMaqom has served more than 100,000 students and offered more than 7,500 courses over the life of the organization in such topics as Talmud, Hebrew language and the basics of Judaism, as well as the arts, history, interfaith issues, social justice, cuisine and wine, death and mourning, and many other areas.

By this spring, leadership agreed they were no longer able to sustain the organization and its impressive roster of local educators.

Was the financial trouble related to what had become a revolving door at the top? Founding director Fred Rosenbaum retired in 2017, after more than 40 years steering the organization. He was replaced by Rabbi Jeremy Morrison, who stayed for three years before leaving to be senior rabbi at Congregation Beth Am in Los Altos Hills but not before he changed the organizations name to HaMaqom | The Place, a decision that had many in the community scratching their heads. (HaMaqom, pronounced ha-mah-comb, is Hebrew for the place.)

Morrison was replaced in May 2020 by Rabbi Darren Kleinberg, former head of school at Kehillah Jewish High School in Palo Alto, who left in early 2021 after less than a year.

In March of this year, Rabbi Ruth Adar took over as executive director with a mission to try and save the bottom line. A board member for more than 10 years, she was also HaMaqoms single largest private donor, to the tune of half a million dollars, she pointed out. So, for her, It was a personal issue, she told J.

It was personal in other ways as well. In 1995, Adar took an Intro to Judaism class at Lehrhaus as part of her conversion process. Later she returned to study Hebrew in order to attend Hebrew Union CollegeJewish Institute of Religion, where she was ordained a Reform rabbi. Lehrhaus has been, she says, a big part of her life.

I came on three months ago and took a deep dive into the question of sustainability, Adar said. We had made great strides over the last year, but I had serious questions. When I looked at it, I realized it was not financially sustainable.

The great strides during the Covid lockdown included a 137 percent jump in attendance, as courses went online and participants joined in from all over the globe. More than 1,800 students took advantage of some 80 learning opportunities this past year, according to the website.

But tuition fees cover only 18 to 20 percent of HaMaqoms overall budget, Baxter said. Again, not enough.

Operating during the pandemic was a mixed bag, Adar said. Attendance was up, but so were expenses; it cost a considerable amount to move everything online and to train the educators in the skills they needed to teach virtually.

Finally, the decision was made to shut down. We wanted to be sure, once it was clear this was going to be the decision, to do it with the greatest sense of responsibility we could, Adar said, and not wind up buried in debt or buried in scandal, or simply shutting the doors and leaving people to fend for themselves.

The organizations office space within the Berkeley Hillel building on Bancroft Avenue, including the outdoor patio, will be taken over by Hillel sometime before the start of UCs fall semester.

Now the leadership has committed itself to finding homes for HaMaqoms courses and educators every single one, if Adar has her way so the learning will continue, albeit not via the institution known as HaMaqom. Eight Talmud circles and 14 self-directed Kevah Jewish study groups need to be placed as well. Staff has been busy compiling lists of all of the educators on its roster and what they have to offer, and studying local Jewish organizations that might be good fits.

I want these classes to be available to other Jews and people curious about Judaism, I want these programs in a place where they can be sustained, and these wonderful teachers in a place where they can make decent parnassah, Adar said, using the Hebrew for making a living.

No placements have yet been arranged, she said.

Speaking from his home in New York, Rosenbaum, Lehrhaus founding director, told J. that he is not mourning the end of the educational institution he was instrumental in creating in 1974, along with philanthropist Seymour Fromer and Rabbi Steven Robbins, director of Berkeley Hillel at the time.

Rather, hes celebrating what it has given to the community.

Naturally Id have liked a different outcome, he said. But I focus on what we have accomplished, the impact we have made in our nearly half a century.

Rosenbaum was a graduate student at UC Berkeley when he brought to the Bay Area the seminar-centric, dialogue-focused style of Jewish learning that had been pioneered 55 years earlier in Frankfurt, Germany, by Franz Rosenzweigs Free Jewish Learning Institute.

Rosenbaums faith in the power of the student-driven educational model remains strong. It is in the hands of the students and teachers, he said. Its not about the institution. And that style of learning is going to continue. The spirit of it will live on, just in another form.

Though dozens of supporters have posted to an online comments page set up by HaMaqom, the decision to close is irreversible, Baxter said.

And though some of those supporters are urging the Jewish community to rally behind HaMaqom and find last-minute donors to shore it up, that isnt going to happen, Baxter and Adar stated.

While we appreciate the rally of support, we want to be clear that the decision to wind up and dissolve the organization has been made and is not reversible, Baxter said. The best thing the community can do to help is to support us in finding new homes for the programs, educators and staff.

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Decision to close HaMaqom 'irreversible,' leadership says J. - The Jewish News of Northern California

To say that we all collectively could use a laugh is a vast understatement. Luckily, rabbi, humorist, author, interfaith leader, academic, community activist and disciple of joy Reb Moshe Waldoks joins us to lift our spirits.

The author of the classic and comprehensive The Big Book of Jewish Humor, Reb Moshe takes The Vibe of the Tribe mic (and doesnt let go) to share his story and philosophy.

Tune in and laugh along as he describes building a vibrant community at Temple Beth Zion in Brookline using the power of Yom Kippur jokes and meditation, his explanations of what is and is not Jewish humor and the importance of finding the joynot just the oyof Jewish life. You dont want to miss this hilarious episode as Reb Mosheand, to a lesser extent, Miriam and Dan cover everything from Bernie Sanders mittens memes to inadvertent Talmud hilarity, plus a vociferous disagreement about the merits (or lack thereof) of Larry David.

Produced by Miriam Anzovin and edited by Jesse Ulrich, with music by Ryan J. Sullivan.

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Getting the Joke: Exploring Jewish Comedy With Reb Moshe Waldoks - jewishboston.com

When I was growing up, voting was a sacred act. Schools were closed for the day. My mother made a special dinner, ready to be served the minute my dad returned from the office. We would eat quickly, go downstairs to meet my grandparents, and then take out the car for a short drive to the polling place in our local high school, where we were bound to meet a bevy of neighbors as we waited in line. And then came the moment when I was allowed to go into the voting booth with my mom and draw the heavy dark curtain so we could press the little levers and seal the deal with a push of the big handle that opened the curtain with a whoosh.

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Why, as Jews, do we care so passionately about voting rights for every eligible individual in our country? Just what is it that draws us to engage in elections in such overwhelming numbers, and make sure that others can exercise this right? What drove 1,250 JALSA volunteers to send postcards to 160,000 people in multiple states to make sure they were registered to vote? And what compelled me to speak on the Boston Common last weekend as part of the national rallies across the country in support of S.1, the For the People Act?

When we look at our Jewish values, we hear the voice of Rabbi Isaac Nappah in the Talmud saying that a ruler is not to be appointed unless the community is first consulted. It is the people who must choose their leadersboth in ancient times and today.

We also know that a fundamental underpinning of Judaism is that every individual must be accorded respect and dignity. Being able to cast a ballot, and knowing that ballot will be counted, is a sign of how our democracy respects the humanity of voters. This is what my parents knewthat by elevating Election Day in our household, never missing an opportunity to votewe were reaffirming that we counted as people who had a responsibility to this country to make our opinions known at the ballot box.

For these reasons, as a Jewish community, we must forcefully speak out in favor of the For the People Act. This legislation doesnt have anything particularly earth shattering in it. It would allow for easier and more time-friendly mechanisms to register to vote, making it possible for people who work and dont have flexible schedules to participate in our democracy. It would permit an expansion of voting by mail and early voting, which we proved in this pandemic can reliably be offered as options to the benefit of millions of voters. Simply, it would allow people to do what they are legally entitled to do anyway, just more conveniently.

We are pitched for a battle now in our country. The For the People Act would expand the vote, allowing Americans to elect leaders who will enact policies that bolster jobs, provide affordable health care, build more housing and support childcare. Yet, according to the Brennan Center for Justice, just in the 2021 legislative session, lawmakers in 48 states have introduced close to 400 laws which would restrict voting rights. The blatant effort to silence the voices of Black and brown people in our country makes these targeted attacks to suppress the vote even more repulsive, and particularly painful to those in the Jewish community who took to the streets and the buses during the civil rights movement of the 1960s.

No matter what our political views, who we are or where we live, we all should support the freedom to vote. This is a turning point for our nation. Will we be a country in which voters can safely and freely cast their ballots, have their voices heard and elect leaders who deliver on the priorities of the people who elected them?

Our Jewish values are not meant to be buried in dusty books. They are living, breathing lessons from which we determine how we conduct our modern lives. In this case, they lead us to conclude that the time is now to contact your U.S. senators and tell them to find a path to pass S.1, the For the People Act.

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This post has been contributed by a third party. The opinions, facts and any media content are presented solely by the author, and JewishBoston assumes no responsibility for them. Want to add your voice to the conversation? Publish your own post here.MORE

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For the People The Sacred Act of Voting - jewishboston.com

When someone asks me what I do, I answer, Im a fundraiser.

Almost every time, whether the person is my doctor, an acquaintance, neighbor or family member, I can predict that the response will be, I could never ask people for money. Its important work, but I could never do that. This question provides me with an opportunity to explain what I really do help people live forever.

In addition to securing current funding that sustains and grows Jewish Cleveland, I am privileged to help people create lasting legacy plans and assist them as they make commitments.

Legacy means something different to each of us. Some think of it as what they leave financially, feeling good that something they built will be enjoyed by their children and grandchildren. The legacy I am referring to says, I love my family and my community. My name may not be remembered, but my Jewish community will be better because I was here. Leaving this kind of legacy speaks loudly to your family and your community, saying, Our community is full of Jewish life and opportunities because those before me ensured it for us. I will continue that important work, even after am gone, and I hope you - my children and grandchildren will do the same.

As the Talmud says whoever saves one life saves the world entire. Legacy gifts improve and even save lives every day. These funds enable young adults to attend college and children to experience Camp Wise with scholarships. Isolated senior citizens receive healthy meals, and Jewish women and children safely sleep at the Hebrew Shelter Home.

Chances are you already support Jewish charitable organizations including your synagogue, but have you included one or more in your will or estate plan? Creating your Jewish legacy empowers you to further the work of your heart. What does the future look like for our Jewish community? What rituals, experiences and places influenced who you are today? How did living in Jewish Cleveland contribute to a vibrant Jewish life your family? The journey to a personal, permanent legacy plan is so meaningful and so satisfying for all who embrace it.

All of us, regardless of age or wealth, have the power to help sustain our vibrant Jewish community in some way. Most people will leave behind assets such as a retirement plan or insurance policy. Designating a portion, any amount, to the organizations that matter most during your lifetime, makes a difference. You can ensure that your own family is supported first, but maybe the Jewish community can be a member of your extended family a family that, with your help, will live forever.

Carol F. Wolf is assistant vice president, planned giving and endowments at the Jewish Federation of Cleveland in Beachwood.

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Consider leaving legacy with gift that keeps on giving - Cleveland Jewish News

Nearly every Jewish community has some kind of head covering tradition, but there are many different ideas about who should wear them and when. There are also a remarkable array of styles. In this article, well explain the tradition of Jewish head covering and review some of the most common styles youll see around the world.

Traditionally, Jewish men have covered their heads for centuries as a sign of reverence and respect for Gods presence above. Some Jewish women cover their hair when they are married in order to be modest in appearance. This article focuses on hats worn for the purpose of reverence; modesty hair coverings scarves, wigs and hats worn mostly by Orthodox women are discussed here.

The origins of Jewish head covering practices are not entirely clear. The Torah says that Aaron, the first high priest, wore a head covering as part of his ceremonial garb (Exodus 28:3638). In the Talmud, Rav Huna is quoted as saying that he did not walk a distance of four cubits (about six feet) with his head uncovered to acknowledge the divine presence above his head (Shabbat 118b). The mother of Rav Nahman bar Yizhak learns that her son is destined to be a thief and so she makes him cover his head and pray for divine mercy. He manages to behave well until that covering accidentally slips off and he succumbs to the temptation to steal some dates (Shabbat 156b).

Though these ancient texts seem to imply that head covering was specifically the province of Jewish religious leaders, by the medieval period it was widespread. Maimonides wrote that head covering was required for prayer (Mishneh Torah, Hilkhot Tefillah 5:5) and the most influential medieval Jewish law code, the Shulchan Aruch, states that men are to cover their heads when walking more than four cubits (like Rav Huna did). By this time, head covering was de rigeur for Ashkenazi Jews.

In the 20th century, Rabbi Moshe Feinstein, and American Orthodox legal authority, issued a special dispensation for men to not wear a kippah at work if necessary implying that the practice is generally obligatory.

Today, most Jewish men who identify as Orthodox cover their heads at all times (except when sleeping or bathing). Jews from non-Orthodox movements also cover their heads men and, in some cases, women. Some wear a head covering all the time, others wear one just inside a synagogue, while studying Torah and/or when eating. Many choose a kippah for this purpose (also called a yarmulke or skull cap), but others fulfill the obligation with any kind of secular head covering (baseball caps are popular).

In the Reform movement, many do not cover their head even in synagogue as this was actively discouraged at one time, though in recent years the movement has moved back toward head covering during prayer.

Below is a sampling of different kinds of Jewish head coverings worn in various communities around the world.

A kippah, or yarmulke, is a kind of minimal cap that covers the crown of the head. It is worn for religious purposes, not for sun protection or keeping off rain. Some Jews will wear a kippah under a different kind of hat.

There are several styles of kippot (the plural of kippah) that are common around the world. Often, the style of kippah worn signals the religious (and even political) affiliation of the wearer.

The name aside, this kind of kippah is actually crocheted and is favored by Modern Orthodox Jews and Dati Leumi in Israel. They come in a variety of colors and patterns, with styles constantly changing, and sometimes playful variations. Some Jews who lean in a slightly more Orthodox direction will favor an all-black version of the same kind of kippah.

This style is popular in a variety of contexts. It is common among more liberal Jewish streams, and is frequently produced in a rainbow of hues and embossed specially for bar and bat mitzvahs and weddings. This style is also worn by some haredi Jews, usually in black and usually under another hat when outdoors.

A black velvet kippah, which is made with a cloth lining, is favored by haredi Jews, but can be found in other Jewish contexts as well. Some haredi Jews regard the velvet kippah as fulfilling a more stringent obligation to have two layers on ones head, though not all agree with this view.

These hand-embroidered, colorful kippot are usually larger than other kinds, covering most of the top of the head and secured by a wide band. They are worn by Bukharian Jews (of course) but also many other Jewish children because they are less likely to slip off the head than other styles. Lots of other Jews also enjoy these beautiful head coverings.

These soft, looser lined kippot are especially popular among older generations of Reform and Conservative Jews.

Yemenite Jews traditionally wear a stiff black kippah shaped like a dome. They are usually made of velvet and have decorative borders.

These large kippot knitted from white yarn often have a pom on top and a slogan of the Breslover community around the edge. A similar white style, without the slogan, is worn by some non-Breslover Hasidic children.

Haredi Jews often recognized by their distinctive dress, including large black hats. But while black hats that are worn during the week and fancier (sometimes fur) hats are favored on Shabbat and other special occasions. These are generally worn over top of a kippah because two head coverings are considered more meritorious than one.

These are all large, cylindrical fur hats usually worn on Shabbat or festivals and to weddings. The streimel is a very wide brown hat made from animal tails (usual fox, marten or minx) while the spodik tends to be taller and dyed black. Because a spodik is dyed, it is a less expensive hat, though neither style is cheap. Which one you wear is usually determined by the Hasidic sect of which you are a member.

The kolpik is brown like a streimel but tall like a spodik, and usually worn by Hasidic leaders on special occasions, and sometimes by their sons and grandsons as well.

There is a great deal of lore around the origins of these hats. Some believe that, like other elements of traditional Hasidic garb, shtreimels were simply fashionable in Eastern Europe in the early modern period. When Poland was conquered by Napoleon in the early 19th century, many Poles started to wear more western styles, but Hasidic Jews retained more traditional Polish styles, including the shtreimel.

There is also a legend that the Polish authorities demanded Jews wear tails on their heads, as a way to mark and humiliate them. The Jews constructed shtreimels out of tales to look like crowns, inverting the proclamation.

Not all Hasidic Jews wear fur hats. Members of Chabad, for example, favor fedoras. During the week especially, other sects wear hoiche hats: black, high-crowned hats with brims. The platiche biber hat is similar but has a lower profile. Sometimes, a rosh yeshiva, the head of a Jewish house of study, will wear a variation of one of these hats with the brim turned up.

Some Hasidic children wear a hat called a kashket as an alternative to a kippah. This is shaped something like a Bukharian kippah having a wide band and no brim but it is usually entirely black and made of felt.

This cylindrical red cap, sometimes with a tassel, was traditionally worn by Jews from the former Ottoman empire, especially Morocco. Jews tend to call it by its Arabic name, Tarboush.

Jews have been proudly sporting hats for centuries and sometimes have worn them under duress. In the medieval period, some Jews were required by the authorities to wear distinctive hats that would mark them as Jews. Today, thankfully, that is no longer the case they are worn for religious and cultural reasons. This list of styles is not exhaustive, and the fashions continue to evolve.

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The Meaning Behind Different Jewish Hats - My Jewish Learning

Can you believe it, there are Jews here living among us on this sliver of desert hugged on the one side by the Mediterranean and on the other by enemies too numerous to count, who do not recognize the State of Israel, or plain old Israel, or even ha-aretz, like the name of the newspaper, which also means the land, as in the land which I will show you, the I in this case being the Almighty Himselfreferring to the place that would take them in after the scourge of Europe and the millions reduced to ashes as the Land of Israel, as if our liberation, our great moment of self-definition, our casting-off of the shackles of second-class citizenship had never come? And this because they are religious fanatics who dont believe in the legitimacy of the secular, democratic(ish), freely(ish) elected state, because they are still waiting for the Messiah to come and wave his Magic Wand and establish the dominion of His people, as stipulated in the Book of I think its Isaiah, and encompassing that vast stretch of dry yellow wasteland now claimed by the Palestinians, who, having no better place to go to and rejected by their Muslim so-called brothers across the Jordan so-called River and, for that matter, every other Arab country too, moan and howl over their rights to it as if it were Gan Eden.

Let them have it, I say. Let them have the whole over-baked, filthy, barren placeand good riddance and also, heaven forbid I should forget to say, live in peace. Make babies. Bake bread. Watch your favorite programs on TV. Just leave us alone already, and well leave you alone, and all will be well. In this fantasy land, that is. Because our fundamentalist Jewsthose shtreimel-wearing long-beaded God fearing Talmud-drenched lunatics? Never will they let this happen. Salaam salaam.

And did you know furthermore that the rabbis taught that we were sent into exile and ruin not because the Roman legions with their weapons of mass destruction and crucifixion-compulsion burned our cities to the ground and slaughtered those who werent already dead but because we ourselveswe Jews, who were then divided and sub-divided not into Reform, Orthodox, Conservative, etc. etc. but rather into Pharisees and Sadducees and Levites and zealots and so forthturned on ourselves. Jew-on-Jew hatred is what caused the great calamity is more or less what the later rabbis, who of course werent there but rather nestled in their cozy nests in places like Pinsk and Minsk and Sura, terrible places, places where they hated and slaughtered Jews, but go figure, they said that it was baseless hatred that brought catastrophe down on our heads, not the Roman Legion.

Courtesy of Jennifer Anne Moses

Author: Jennifer Anne Moses latest book is The Man Who Loved His Wife.

So, nu, hatred: we, by which I mean myself and my siblings and all the other kids on our kibbutz (Bet Zion) were taught to hate such people, by which I mean religious fanatics dressed in their weird and hot costumes, clothes so oppressive and out-of-time that youd die of a heat stroke, wearing those long sleeves and long beards and long heavy black dresses in our Middle Eastern heator rather, not to hate the people, not the religious per se, but their ideas, those radical, fanatical, rigid and doctrinaire set of doctrines and strictures and rules that kept themand by association, usstuck in a netherworld of neither-nor. With their taking over great swaths of central Jerusalem and then spreading like a wave of black crows as far as Bnei Brak and Bet Shemesh and up and down and east and west (which, in Israel, is only a matter of 50 miles, Israel being more the size of a large ant hill than an actual country). Anyway: what could we do?

I was from a different class and time and place and history and philosophy and even skin tone entirely: meaning, if they were the descendants of crazed Eastern European tzaddiks and hasids, I and my siblings were the progeny of what in Israel passes as royalty, or, if not royalty, then the upper class: namely, the Halutzimthe pioneer generation, themselves the product of the Jewish Enlightenment who, educated in Freud, Einstein, Marx, Buber, Aristotle, Shakespeare, Bach, Goethe, Tolstoy, Dostoyevsky, Schiller, Mahler, Lincoln and Liszt, American movie stars and American jazz, all of them, and they came to this placeleaving their homes in Europe for the rigors of the desert and the company of impoverished Arabsand built the first kibbutzim, drained the swamps, cleared the land, irrigated, dug, learned to shoot a gun, shot and got shot at.

I, Yoni Benavi, am of the third generation of the Halutzim class, and on our kibbutz, founded by my grandparents before Israel was even Israel, we hated every idea, every notion, every prayer, and every intention that originated among the fanatics, in all their varying costumes and degrees of fantasy and fanaticism of the 18th century Polish ghetto: i.e., our own religious Jews.

Religious, you say? Whats religious? And when there are so many shades, so many tones and semi-tones of religious, who really qualifies as merely religious and who, as a nut job? Especially here in the Holy Land, God help us, where you could argueand youd be right!that pretty much everyone is a nut job. But I digress. Or rather, I stray, I stray, when in fact I need to get down to brass tacks, which is to say the story itself, what youve come to these pages to read, the what-happened, the when, the why, the who. Speaking of the whowhich is to say, our own homegrown nutcase Jewsmost of them, they dont even speak Hebrew. Or rather, though they can speak it, they use Hebrew for the holy books only. For the everyday, for the here and now, they use Yiddish. They even write in Yiddish. You speak to them in Hebrew, most of them will reply: I am sorry but I do not understand.

Only they dont say Im sorry. Instead, they look at you like theyre going to spit in your face. Most American tourists speak Hebrew more readily than they do, and trust me that isnt saying much. So why, given that Ive lived in Israel with my co-religionists all my days, am I ranting? Ill tell you why. Its because of Itai. Who is Itai? Ill tell you. He is my son, my own and my wife Devorahs second child, the first wasnt a son, she was a daughter, a lovely girl, an accountant, shes engaged to be married to another accountant, they met in school. We live in Tel Aviv. Yes, I left the kibbutz. After I got my degree, I didnt go back. I studied biology at Hebrew University and continued with my advanced degree at Beer Sheva, but Devorah, my wife, who also I met when we were both doing our first degree, me in biology and Devorah in psychology, she is from Tel Aviv and didnt want to live on a farm with the chickens and the citrus trees. We bought a two-bedroom apartment 2 miles from the sea, its beautiful, the sea, not so far if you ride on a bike.

Itai loved the sea; he and his friends would spend whole days there. Even in the winter, off theyd go on their bicycles, to the beach, or to sit on a park bench eating peanuts, listening to the birds caw above them; talking; looking at girls. The usual things. There was nothing unusual about him; nothing that hinted that his soul was hindered, that things were amiss, that Devorah and I hadnt managed to provide for him some essential something that his inner self required. And what was essential something? Did we not coo over his cradle, change his diapers, attend his school performances and so on and so forth until the day he was drafted into the army like every other able-bodied Israeli boy and girl and, at the age of 18, put on his uniform, his boots, his gun, his cap, and did service? This is not in Israel such a hardship as it is in America; everyone does it; its even a point of pride, something to look forward to, a necessary stop in ones development as a full-fledged citizen. Not that its such a joy, either, let me tell younot with your commanders screaming at you as you crawl on your belly through the desert at night with nothing but your wits to guide you, and thats only in training, but you get the idea; not with the terrible food, the endless tuna sandwiches, you eat so many tuna sandwiches the sight of it later in life makes you sick; not with a bullet aimed at your head if, God forbid, a war should come.

I myself was in Lebanon in 82, and let me tell you it wasnt nice. Even so, Itai: off to the IDF he went, he was a medic with the infantry, in Golani, a top brigade, the best he was in, we were so proud, and when his three years were up, he and his girlfriend went to Turkey, saw the Blue Mosque and the fairy chimneys and sand towers of Cappadociaour Israeli youth, how they love to travelI myself went to India, for 10 months I was there, in India, what a place I could barely tear myself away but I had to, I had a place waiting for me at the Hebrew University, and God forbid I didnt take it, then what would my future look like? (Because even on the kibbutzor perhaps I should say especially on the kibbutzwe prize education. Thus we have our poets on the kibbutz, our physicists and mathematicians and cellists as well as our agronomists and fruit-pickers and dairymen.)

His own three years werent the worst three years Israel has ever seen but not the best either, trouble in the territories but no outright war, a couple of busses blown up, a handful of Jews stabbed, but, nu, what else is new? He came out of it without a scratch, and also, in those three years he grew; he grew from a scrawny lad of no more than one hundred and 60 centimeters to nearly 2 meters tall, and broad and strong, with a thick tangled black mop on top of his face like some exotic obsidian animal had taken up residence thereand true, hes not so much to look at, or rather, his looks dont make him any kind of movie star, but hes solid, a solid, healthy, strapping Israeli type, he could almost be Italian, an Italian Mafiosi in New Jersey or Staten Island, Americabut his girlfriend, they met on the base, what a beauty!

Courtesy of Mayapple Press

The Man Who Loved His Wife: Jennifer Anne Moses latest book was published by Mayapple Press.

A rare find, this girl, this girlfriend of his, Tamar, a jewel, blonde no less, with long blond hair and her dirty feet in sandals, straight from the countryside this one, her family thinks ours is sophisticated and worldly, this is how simple was her upbringing in a small town in the north, just under the belly of Lebanon, where her family made olive oil and soap from their own olive grove for export. And she was crazy about him too; you could see it, the way she looked at him; and how agreeable she was, always saying yes, never no, never I dont feel like it, never Im tired. Yes, of course, we gave them our blessingor if not our blessing, not technically, our consent, our support, we are more secular, we dont go in for giving a blessing per sewhen they went off together to explore the wonders of Turkey, and, later, when they were both in school, they decided to live together. Because this is Israel, and if youre not a religious fanatic, we are very accepting here, very relaxed about matters of sex and love, of boy-and-girl: we figure that if theyre old enough to serve in the armed forces, theyre old enough to navigate their own personal lives. This girlIm telling you, shes a gem, an angel from heaven, she helps Devorah in the kitchen, she and Ruti huddle together on the sofa, the two of them chatting like old friends and so lovely to look at, and what happens? It doesnt work out, is what happens.

The old story: shes living with him, they share their lives, she wants some kind of commitment, she isnt asking for a wedding ring or even a date or even a year, but just some sort of commitment, that he will be there, for her, by her side, in some kind of official capacity: shell want children. Not now, but later. Shell want what most women want: her own home, her own little ones, laundry hanging out on the line. This is Israel: we are in and out of each others homes constantly. No one has a lot of space, no three-and four-bedroom mansions or two-car garages or bright green backyards with a swing set and a swimming pool, and no matter what, you can never be far from home, even if you settle in the far south, on the border, you are only spitting distance, so what do we do? We pile into each others houses, every day, every week we do this, and then we eat. Which is all to say that their romance wasnt conducted entirely behind closed doors, because in Israel, as I just said, closed doors arent so easy to come by.

It got so bad that toward the end she even confided in my wife, in Devorah, that she loved him, she loved our son, she wanted a life with himbut Itai, he wouldnt say anything, hed only shrug and say maybe or well see, or who knows? So she moved out, and Itai left the university entirely and went to work on the kibbutz, which is to say my kibbutz, where Id grown up. For a year, he picked lemons. Then he began to study Talmud, at first just once a week, at a nearby town where recently the haredim, religious wackos, had been coming to live, because of course they breed like rabbits, our religiously endowed, theyre spilling out of their cramped neighborhoods in Jerusalem, out of their cramped apartments hovering above cramped alleyways stuffed to the brim with all matter of things that people throw out when they no longer have any use for thembarrels of rotting vegetables, tallow, chicken bones, candy wrappers, plastic bags, net bags, sneakers, aerosol bottles, and the ever-present baby buggy, the buggies and push-strollers parked end to end on every sidewalk and every doorway from Mea Shaarim to Ezrat Torah and in between in every direction: pregnant women pushing babies and more babies, so many babies youd think they were farming them.

The town, like so many towns of the same type, was new; it sprang up out of the desert like the gourd in the Book of Jonah. One day, no town; the next, a metastasis of concreteblock apartments, a blight on the landscape, a cold sore on the lips of a virgin. This one they called Kiryat Yisroel, and like all such towns, it was filled with anger, self-righteousness, dirty diapers, squabbles, envy, venom, and notenough: not enough money, not enough food, not enough space, not enough quiet, not enough peace. Prayers, yes; peace, not so muchbecause how do you attain peace when you and your wife who you married after meeting once, for a single hour, live in a two-bedroom flat with seven children and one-on-the-way? For this, my friend, you have to go to the study house; you have to study Talmud while your wife works at whatever work she can get in between birthing babies and washing their nappies. A disaster, is what it is. And, plus and here Im getting to the main pointthey dont serve in the army. This is the law in Israel, that the Orthodox, busy serving the Am in their own way, i.e., studying Holy Writ, are exempt from the army. Why this is so is a whole long story, a historical fact dating from our earliest and first government, and the rest, as they say, is misery.

So yes, as I was saying, hed go and study: first once a week, just dipping his toes in, he said, like many secular Israelis hed never studied the ancient books, he was curious to know where he had come from, he said, where his people had come from. To which I said: your people? Your people come from insanely terrible little towns in what is now Ukraine and what is now Poland, where they were tanners, and starved to death, except when instead of starving to death, they froze to death, or were murdered by peasants.

No, he said, and you know what I mean, Abba: my people, our people, the Jews. Going all the way back: like, whats our story? And Id repeat the story or rather cycle of stories Id told him (and his sister, Ruti) since childhood: our story, our storywe came out of the desert, a little tribe infused or infected, whichever way you want to put it, by God, by some notion of God, by some notion of right-and-wrong and of being apart and selected and elected by None Other than God Himself. What followed waswho knows for sure, because the Bible isnt exactly an accurate historic record, though archeology is?but what followed was we landed in Jerusalem, had a bunch of kings and endless inter-tribal warfare and skirmishes, and a bunch more of this faction saying that this is the way to worship God while that faction said, no, youre wrong, its this way, and all this was punctuated by various empires rising up in the east or the north and deciding that little old Israel (which wasnt called Israel then, it was called other things, but wasnt even a country, because countries as we know them today hadnt yet been invented) was in the way, or rather, that they didnt like its inhabitantsthose Hebrews with their own God and their own language and own tongue and, depending on the century, their own Templeand either killed us or enslaved us or exiled us or burnt us to death but in the meantime people kept talking and arguing and writing, and then the Romans came, and we spread to Europe in the north and the desert to the south and east and eventually came to live either under the Muslims or the Christians, and for a long time, things were OK, living in Muslim lands, but not so good in Christian lands, and finally after another dozen disasters involving the wholesale slaughter of Jews, culminating, naturally enough, with the Shoahwith the murder of the 6 million by that butcherwe came here.

Your great-grandparents, Id say, they came from Poland and from Lithuania, young and on fire, they came to a backwater, a desert, an impoverished nothing of a place nominally governed by the Ottoman empire, and they built a kibbutz. But no, thats not what Itai meant. He meant: why and how did we Jews come to be? What is the essence of the Jew? Why is there consciousness? What is consciousness? Is there any way to address the cosmos from within our puny framework?

Thus his weekly and then twice-weekly and finally nightly retreat to a chevra, a holy circle, to study the holy books, and all this under the auspices of someone whom my son called Rav Eli, who later became his father-in-law, but Im getting ahead of myself.

In America, when this happenswhen an otherwise reasonably well-rounded and well-grounded young person goes religiousthey call them baal teshuva, master of return, or master of repentance. Here we just say he or she is lostlost! So too with our son, with our strapping, black-eyed and black-haired Itai. He becomes strange to us; he grows a beard; he covers his head; he wears a black coat and then a black suit and then a black gabardine and then a black hat. He will not eat in our house; we arent sufficiently kosher (though, unlike most secular Jews, we do keep koshera remnant of my wifes upbringing, and trust me, its not so easy to keep kosher in Tel Aviv.) He wont shake the hand of my wifes friend Elena even though hes known her since he was in diapers. He wont even kiss his own mother, not without his rebbes permission.

By now of course hes moved off the kibbutz and into a kind of mens dormitory attached to the rinky-dink ramshackle yeshiva that Rav Eli runs out of a former petrol station, or maybe it was a warehouse, something left over from when Kiyrat Yisroel was no more than an intersection on the road from Gedera to Tel Aviv, a truck stop, a place where you could get the bus. In any event, nu, you get the picture. Our son had become one of them: infused with blinding certainty, committed to Talmud, convinced that the only way to be a Jew and to do a Jews work in the world was by studying the Holy Books, six, seven, eight, nine hours a day, except on the Shabbat, a day given over to prayer and rest. And what is the work of a Jew? The real work that the Jew was put on earth to do? Only to invite the Messiah to come visit already, weve been so patientto perfect the world as much as he can, which isnt saying much, but a little is better than nothing at all, and thus to bring unending peace, the world-to-come on earth. We await the Messiah, may he come soon and in our day, etc.

Of course all of this caused endless amounts of angst and hand-wringing in our own home, amongst us, the us now including Rutis fianc, a fine young man, Ori, hes an accountant, Ive already mentioned this, but forgive me, I mention it again: because accountancy, unlike lunacy, is a sure, certain, calm and practical occupation. People need accountants; businesses couldnt run without them. The very government couldnt! Numbers are certain, they are facts unto themselves. And the job goes with a decent salary, too, more than decent if you have your own firm or the right connections or both. So yes, I am pleased that Ruti will always be able to work at something solid, which shes good at and which gives her satisfaction, and that her future husband also has this profession. Versus needless to say the God business, which even during the best of times is iffy.

Long story short: we lost him. We lost him to that tribe of pale, impoverished, underfed, poorly-dressed, God-maniacs. He cut off all ties to his former friends at the kibbutz. He cut off all ties to his former mateshis brothers-in-armsfrom the IDF. And if we hadnt agreed to come to him, on his terms, he would have cut off all ties to us, his family, as well, only where in the holy books it says its kosher to turn your back on your mother and father, your sister and brother-in-law, your aunts and uncles and cousins, I dont know. And what were those terms? Endless, is what they were, starting with dress code: my wife, his mother, had to cover her hair, and not with a simple headscarf: no, not a wisp of hair could escape. She had to wear long sleeves, a long skirt, and nothing that would show that she is a woman and not a man. Ditto for his sister. For me, it wasnt so onerous. I merely had to wear long sleeves and long trousers, didnt matter what time of year it was, no short sleeves, no sandals..nothing that would make sense in a desert country under a broiling sun such as ours is. If we came to visit on the Holy Shabbat, God forbid we should drive, use electricity, cook, check the mobile device, until Shabbat was over, meaning by the official God-calendar, meaning not until three stars appeared in the night sky. Its a plague, this kind of thinking, this way of life. Life? What kind of life, may I ask you, when not only your every minute but your very imagination, your very intelligence, is forced into strictures too numerous to count?

And yet, he swore by it, saying he was more at peace, happier, more content than hed ever been. And we, his family, could see that it was so: his voice had taken on a calm, resonant tone; his eyes, which once flashed fire, now flashed sunlight; even his bearing changed. Whereas once hed walked with a ferocious step, his arms swinging athletically by his side, his strides hurried, now he slowed, took in the scenery (not that there was much to see in that drab little town), breathed as if the air felt good in his lungs.

Then he announced his marriage, to, as you already know, his rebbes daughter; actually, there were four daughters. He married the second. She was 18, he was 28. How it was arranged I dont know, though we could only assume it was via the usual channels of matchmaking and negotiation, but it was clear that though Itai didnt love his wife, or at least not at first, he was pleased by the arrangement. What can I tell you about Hannah that you dont already know? That she was young; that she lacked education; that shed never read a novel or even a real newspaper; that she could cook and sew; that she wore a full veil and a white satin long-sleeved wedding gown; that on this same occasion she didnt dance with Itai at all, but only with the other women; that she was pregnant within a few months of their marriage; that she was pale and delicate, with huge terrified dark eyes; that she awoke on the first day of her life as a married woman to don a wig.

The babyour first grandchildwould be named Dafna. Both mother and father were slightly disappointed that Dafna was a girl and not a boy, but what can I say? Another would come along soon enough, and this one, this Dafna, they loved her. Of course they did. And meantime, he immersed himself in the Talmud, and she nursed the baby, took her on walks, baked challah, did the laundry, and worked along with her mother and sisters in the family business, which in this case was internet retail. Ive failed to mention it, but the women of the family were nothing if not entrepreneurial. They saw a hole in the fashion market and filled it, contracting with makers of Orthodox womens apparel to sell outfits online, and a nice little business they had going, too, especially when you consider that the women of the family not only brought home the bacon, as it were, but also managed all the domestic details. Anyway, it was enough to keep the little family of three (plus the many others who were sure to come) in circumstances above the usual poverty and misery and crowdedness. In short, they had a two-bedroom flat, with a modern kitchen and a washing machine in a nook by the bathroom.

We adjusted. What else could we do? Itai waswell, there was no going back was there? Not with a wife and a baby and whatever future babies there would be, which was as sure as sunrise itself. And then the next war happened. Which war, you ask? It was 2014. Rockets were being fired from Gaza into Israel. Some came as far as Tel Aviv. There were words, then escalation, and then our prime minister, excuse me but I cannot say his name without spitting, he ordered troops to the border and then ordered them to go in. And then our Itai, he was in the reserves, of course he was, everyone is. For decadesuntil youre 40 if youre a man. There are exceptions, of course. For example, for the Haredim, who are so busy with their holy books, etc., that they cant be bothered. This didnt apply to Itai, though: hed become a religious fanatic too late. His service had been with Golani brigade. Golani was sent into Gaza first, and then the losses began: the explosions in the tunnels, the blood. They lost them. They couldnt keep up with the blood. Thats when Itai was called up. He was a medic. They needed him.

Two days later, Itai was dead. Dead in a tunnel where hed rushed in, after an explosion, a big boom explosion, and the sound of gunfire, and he knew they were in therethe soldiers, that is, the eighteen-and-nineteen-andtwenty-year-old soldiers, and he ran in after them to help, but there was a second explosion. And that was that. He was given a heros burial, at Mount Herzl. Its beautiful there. The smell of pines.

So now, yes, we too, we mourn. We mourn and wait for the coming of the Messiah, soon and in our day.

And Im very sorry to have to tell you such a sad story, a sad story with an even sadder ending, but this is how it is for us Jews, here in the Holy Land, the Land which God promised to Abraham and his descendants, promising that one day, I will make you a great nation; I will bless you and make your name great; and you shall be a blessing. I will bless those who bless you, and I will curse him who curses you; and in you all the families of the earth shall be blessed. I am of course quoting from the verses in Genesis, or as we call that book, Bereshit: In the beginning. And what Im thinking is: what if none of these stories had been written down? What if there was no Bible? What if there had been no Temple? No Second Temple? No Mishna, no Gemara. Where would I be living? Would I even be a Jew? Would Hitler have risen among us? Would there be a city where Tel Aviv now stands? Would my son still be living or would I and my son and all the rest of us be merely an idea, never to have been realized, in the Mind of God?

The Holy Messiah is included in Jennifer Anne Moses collection The Man Who Loved His Wife, published in 2021 by Mayapple Press. It was previously excerpted in ACM.

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Fiction | The Holy Messiah - Forward

Last Monday, we dropped off our daughter for overnight camp. The camp system was flawless. Counselors greet the car. Kid comes out. Parents drive away. The process makes sense. No drawn-out goodbyes. A quick and sweet separation.

I knew all of this before we entered the car line. But I just couldnt do it. As my daughter got out of the car, yelling a see you soon, I also jumped out. I gave her a huge hug and she began to laugh. As Annie walked over to her group, my husband and I immediately looked at each other. No tears from our daughter, but both of us began to cry.

We laughed through our tears and realized that this was it: the real transition of our child growing up. We felt proud of her and honestly, proud of ourselves. Our child understood (better than us) that two weeks fly by, and she would soon be back in our nest, safe at home.

In a discussion about the ways in which a child should be disciplined, the Talmud (Sotah 47a) explains, It should always be the left that pushes another away and the right that draws him near. Meaning, that while a child feels rebuke from a parent, they should likewise see the rebuker as one of understanding and compassion. Slightly pushing away while also drawing them close. A parent that can offer a critical eye with an open heart. Our tradition teaches us that a child grows not out of fear. Rather, a child grows through a foundation of love.

However, this time around, my child is the teacher, and I am the student. She gently pushed me away, reminding me that she is never too far away. Her laugh during our hug was the curriculum. This week, we are learning how to take pride in our parenting, feel secure in our daughters ability to voice her needs, and smile through our tears. She will be back; but for now, she is meant to be away.

Letting her parents grow moreday by day.

Shabbat Shalom

Rabbi Nicole Guzik is a rabbi at Sinai Temple. She can be reached at her Facebook page at Rabbi Nicole Guzik.For more writings, visit Rabbi Guziks blog section from Sinai Temples website.

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A Bisl Torah: The Child Becomes the Teacher - Jewish Journal

In the classroom, Yonatan Brafman poses big questions: What is justice? How should we define human rights? What are our obligations to other people? How do we live a good life?

Hes not alone in grappling with such questions, of course. Trying to figure out what we should do and why is something that we are constantly doing as human beings and as citizens, says Brafman, who joins the Tufts faculty as an assistant professor in the Department of Religion in September.

He helps students explore these issues by drawing on his study of Jewish law and ethics in the context of moral, legal, and political philosophy. His courses at Tufts will cover topics such as modernity and Judaism, religion and justice, and an introduction to Judaism.

Brafmans position is a new one for the religion department, created to expand the universitys offerings in Judaic Studies, says James Glaser, dean of the School of Arts and Sciences. He fills an important gap in our curriculum, Glaser says. I think hes going to be a magnet for studentsand not just Jewish studentsbecause hes a dynamic, exciting individual, his work is rooted in big ideas, and hes got big things to say.

The new position, and Brafman himself, are welcome additions to Jewish life at Tufts, says Rabbi Naftali Brawer, the Jewish chaplain and Neubauer Executive Director of Tufts Hillel. This appointment provides Tufts with an expert who can speak to many issues confronting contemporary Jews and Judaism, as well as deepen interfaith understanding, he says. I'm excited to have Professor Brafman join our community.

Brafman comes to Tufts from the Jewish Theological Seminary of America, where he was an assistant professor of Jewish thought and ethics and directed a graduate program in Jewish ethics. He earned his doctorate in the philosophy of religion and Jewish thought at Columbia University, and has taught at Princeton and Columbia, as well as at yeshivas in New York City and Jerusalem.

Brafman started studying Jewish texts as a 6-year-old growing up in an Orthodox Jewish community in Queens, but his academic training has been in secular universities and he draws a clear line between his personal religious commitments and what he teaches. Judaic Studies is not only for Jews, certainly, and is not only in the service of Judaism, he says. It is the exploration of Jewish texts, Jewish history, Jewish experience as part of the humanities, part of reflection on human experience.

Last fall, as the COVID-19 pandemic exposed deep inequities in America and mass protests against racism roiled the country, Brafman taught a course he created called Judaism, Human Rights, and Social Justice. The reading list included philosophers like Aristotle, John Locke, and John Rawls, as well as Jewish texts, including the Hebrew Bible and Talmud, giving students a common foundation in a variety of philosophical approaches to social justice and human rights. Toward the end of the course, Brafman asked students to apply those theories to issues such as reparations for slavery and triage decisions in health care.

Im a theorist, but I think that we often can get a better grip on theories through thinking about their application, he says.

In other courses, he might ask students to consider the definition of religion itself. Why has it been deemed, in some cultures and time periods, to be something private, concerned with faith, and mainly involving rituals in a house of worship on a designated day? What understandings of religion does that leave out?

Brafman is also interested in questions about the basis for religious laws. Jewish legal thinkers over the centuries, whose writings he likens to Supreme Court decisions, make arguments based on all sorts of reasons, from health considerations to politics and precedent, he says.

Very infrequently do they say, Oh, you should do this, because its a commandment, he says. There are various forms and types of reasoning at play, and this really goes to break down the distinction we might assume between religious reasoning and ethical reasoning, prudential reasoning, political reasoning, and so on.

Whatever the subject, Brafman looks forward to having his thinking sharpened by interacting with students. Tufts has a great reputation as a research university with the soul of a liberal arts college, which really appeals to me, he says. Im always drawn to teaching undergraduates, because things are open-ended for them. Theyre trying to figure out the world.

Heather Stephenson can be reached at heather.stephenson@tufts.edu.

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What Should You Do and Why? | Tufts Now - Tufts Now

In 1972, Rabbi Yaakov Asher Sinclair opened SARM Studios the first 24-track recording studio in Europe where Queen mixed Bohemian Rhapsody. His music publishing company, Druidcrest Music published the music for The Rocky Horror Picture Show (1973) and as a record producer, he co-produced the quadruple-platinum debut album by American band Foreigner (1976). American Top ten singles from this album included, Feels Like The First Time, Cold as Ice and Long, Long Way from Home. Other production work included The Enid In the Region of the Summer Stars, The Curves, and Nutz as well as singles based on The Hitchhikers Guide To The Galaxy with Douglas Adams and Richard OBrien. Other artists who used SARM included: ABC, Alison Moyet, Art of Noise, Brian May, The Buggles, The Clash, Dina Carroll, Dollar, Flintlock, Frankie Goes To Hollywood, Grace Jones, It Bites, Malcolm McLaren, Nik Kershaw, Propaganda, Rush, Rik Mayall, Stephen Duffy, and Yes.

In 1987, he settled in Jerusalem to immerse himself in the study of Torah. His two Torah books The Color of Heaven, on the weekly Torah portion, and Seasons of the Moon met with great critical acclaim. Seasons of the Moon, a unique fine-art black-and-white photography book combining poetry and Torah essays, has now sold out and is much sought as a collectors item fetching up to $250 for a mint copy.

He is much in demand as an inspirational speaker both in Israel, Great Britain and the United States. He was Plenary Keynote Speaker at the Agudas Yisrael Convention, and Keynote Speaker at Project Inspire in 2018. Rabbi Sinclair lectures in Talmud and Jewish Philosophy at Ohr Somayach/Tannenbaum College of Judaic studies in Jerusalem and is a senior staff writer of the Torah internet publications Ohrnet and Torah Weekly. His articles have been published in The Jewish Observer, American Jewish Spirit, AJOP Newsletter, Zurichs Die Jdische Zeitung, South African Jewish Report and many others.

Rabbi Sinclair was born in London, and lives with his family in Jerusalem.He was educated at St. Anthonys Preparatory School in Hampstead, Clifton College, and Bristol University.

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Video: Burning Books and the 17th of Tammuz - Aish