Do you echo?

You know that feeling when you stop at a Joburg intersection and a taxi pulls up next to you, heavy bass booming from his radio, into your car, through your chest and stomach and out the other side? That is a sampling of what the Jews felt like at Mt. Sinai.

When G-d’s voice blasted the Ten Commandments at us from all six directions, it produced the most powerful sound every heard by humans. G-d’s thundering announcements hurled the people hundreds of metres backwards, knocking their souls our of their bodies. G-d had to dispatch an emergency angel team to revive them and bring them back to the foot of the mountain.

Every nation in the region quaked from the intense sound. Birds stopped chirping, animals froze and nature paused as the Divine sonic boom overwhelmed them all.

But, the powerful noise did not echo.

If you have ever visited the Sinai, you will know how stark and rocky it is. In that stony, sandy environment, you would think that every sound should echo, certainly a very loud one. Why did G-d’s voice defy nature and not reverberate?

The simple science of echoes might help us understand. Noise is really a series of sound-waves that emit from a source. If those sound-waves hit an obstacle that will not absorb them, they bounce back in the direction they came from. This is an echo.

Torah and its directives are designed for the real world. G-d does not want us to escape normal life to attain spirituality; He wants us to embed holiness within the normal life that we live. In other words, He intended His message to sink in to the world, not to bounce off its surface. If His message had echoed, it would have implied that it was too spiritual and could not be absorbed by our world.

On Shavuos you should ask yourself: “Do I echo?”

It's all a numbers game

“Not one, not two, not three...” anybody who has been at the morning minyan will know about counting the crowd and waiting for that 10th man to arrive.

The Jewish community seems obsessed with numbers: “How many members does your Shul have?” “How many people were at the talk last night?” “How many guests did the Goldbergs have at their son’s barmitzvah?”

Is Judaism simply a numbers game? Do we rate the value of an institution, event or family by how many followers they attract?

In the early days of Facebook, a friend of mine won a radio competition for having the most “friends” in Joburg. I doubt whether he knows more than half of them, but he’s winning the numbers game anyway.

There are two ways to count people: You could reduce each person to a simple number, a statistic in a census, a mark on a ballot paper or a cog in a massive machine. Just 65 years ago, one-third of our nation was demeaned into a faceless sea of numbered bodies.

Or you could count them like the attentive collector, who proudly counts his artifacts or diamonds again and again- with love.

Jews don’t count Jews. We dare not relegate our fellow to a simple number. Hence the “not one, not two” formula for figuring out how many minyan-makers are present. It reminds us that a person is not a number.

G-d does count Jews. He obviously knows how many of us there are, so He’s not counting for numbers’ sake. He counts us to express His love and pleasure, like one who relishes knowing exactly how much he has of what he loves.

We are expected to emulate Him, to always see the preciousness of our fellow Jew.

Are you really better than the next guy?

Reb Hillel of Paritch was a tremendous Torah scholar who “crossed the floor” and became a Chabad Chossid. Over the years, he became a dedicated student of the second and third of the Chabad Rebbes, but never managed to meet the Alter Rebbe, founder of Chabad.

It’s not that he hadn’t tried, but Providence ensured that each time he arrived in a town that the Alter Rebbe was visiting, he just missed the Tzadik by a day. Eventually, Reb Hillel researched the Rebbe’s movements ahead in advance and arrived in a small shtetl ahead of the Rebbe’s brief visit there.

To make sure he would not miss the chance to meet the Rebbe, he smuggled himself into the Rebbe’s room, hid under the bed and waited...

Excited by the prospect of meeting this great Torah personality, Reb Hillel had prepared some intricate questions on the obscure topic of “erchin” (the appraisal of people’s value to donate to the Temple) to pose to the Alter Rebbe.

As the Rebbe walked into the room, before Reb Hillel could move, he announced: “If a young man has a question regarding appraising people, he should first concentrate on appraising himself!”

Reb Hillel fainted; the Rebbe’s message had hit its mark. By the time he came to, the Rebbe had left and Reb Hillel never got to meet him.

A man once asked the fifth Lubavitcher Rebbe why he allocated so much of his time to simple Jews, when he could surely have better invested his time with scholars. The fellow happened to be a diamond merchant, so the Rebbe asked to see his stones.

As he looked through the collection, the Rebbe remarked that he didn’t see why a particular stone was so expensive, it seemed rather ordinary. The dealer patiently explained that, as an expert, he could see the value of a stone that an inexperienced person could not see.

“I,” said the Rebbe, “am an expert in people, I can see a value that you cannot...”

If we are unable to see that preciousness in the next Jew, it is ourselves we need to assess.

What I learned from Jacob Zuma

Like him or hate him, you've got to respect him. Jacob Zuma may have a checkered past, but he stole the hearts of South Africa and led the ANC to a landslide election victory last week.

I wouldn't advocate learning morals or honesty from Zuma, but here are a few things you can learn:

1. Don't limit yourself by what other say

Zuma stared down raging condemnation and campaigned his way to the country's top position.

As a Jew, you can expect plenty global criticism. Turn a blind eye and get on with what you know you need to do.

2. You don't have to know how it will all work out

I doubt whether JZ knew quite how he would wiggle out of his corruption trial. His skeleton-filled closet threatened to burst open right up until literally moments before the poll.

Today was the birthday of the fourth Lubavitcher Rebbe, whose motto was Lechatchila Ariber: Stay focused on your goal, put your head down and go for it. Don't waste time worrying about what could go wrong- just make it happen.

3. They don't care how much you know...

... but they know when you care. Zuma ousted the dispassionate and aloof, AIDS-denier Thabo Mbeki using his suave, people-friendly personality. He showed that he could relate to real people and their real problems, and that swung the electorate.

Being Jewish is not all about knowledge- despite what people may tell you- but about sincerely caring for your fellow Jew. Knowing the Talmud backwards, but being judgmental of the Jew who drives on Shabbos undermines the fundamentals of our faith.

4. Dare to conquer your enemy

The greatest coup of this election was the ANC's overwhelming victory in Kwazulu Natal. KZN is a traditionally Zulu stronghold and the most powerful base of Mangosuthu Buthelezi's IFP party. Never before has the ANC made such inroads into this region.

But Zuma is a Zulu. He campaigned heavily in volatile territory- and won.

A Jew is expected to venture into the "enemy territory" of our the mundane world, and transform it into holy territory. Be it business, excercise or eating- a Jew can and should convert the experience from its default position to serving a new and higher purpose.

Missed opportunities?

My brother has recently made Aliyah and moved to Modi'in. Over Pesach, he came to visit and told us all about the vibrant lifestyle in this fast-growing town. From the way he described their ultra-modern home, spectacular public transport system and overwhelmingly warm community, I can't wait to see it for myself. (I might have even considered moving there myself, but we've got plenty work to do here in S.A. so Israel's on hold till Moshiach).

Modi'in is clearly one of the most attractive places in Israel to live and real estate is very valuable. That made me wonder about people who had owned land there twenty some years ago, when Modi'in was little more than a Bohemian settlement. Those who had foresight to buy then must be sitting pretty now.

Then I remembered that we actually had family who almost moved to Modi'in in the early nineties. They almost became millionaires (considering that they almost bought property that would have fetched a fortune in today's market).

We all have "almost" stories. "Almost" made a fortune of money, "almost" met a public figure, "almost" this and "almost" that. Life is full of opportunities, but we almost always seem to miss the really good ones.

Last Wednesday was election day in South Africa. Like a good citizen should, I headed to the polling station up the road. Voting was moving very slowly and it took over an hour to cast my ballot. Normally, I would have stood and chatted to the strangers in line, possibly daydreamed or fretted at the inefficiency of it all.

For once, though, I had enough foresight to take advantage of the time. I took a book that I had needed to study and got through about half of it during the wait. Opportunity used.

Standing there reading reminded me of the Vilna Gaon, who quipped that he became a Torah giant in all those five minutes' that others simply wasted.

We are currently counting the Omer. The Omer days are not festivals, they're ordinary days. Counting the Omer each day transforms each day into a meaningful time- a mitzvah day.

You need less than five minues each evening to to count the Omer. In that short mitzvah-moment, you transform you whole day. Here is a cheap investment that offers great returns.

Counting the Omer is all about not missing opportunities. Yom Tov is always an inspiring time and, be it Pesach or Rosh Hashanah, we naturally feel we need to take advantage while the opportunity lasts. The Omer shows us that we don't need to wait for special days to find opportunities for meaning. They are there every day. And they only take a few minutes.

Five minutes of focus each day can change your whole day. Use five minutes each day for something worthwhile- a Torah-byte, chapter of Tehillim or one kind deed. It will change your day, possibly you life.

And, at the end, you won't have to look back and say "I almost made my life meaningful".

Make it count

Did you vote?

I did. I even have the purple thumbnail to prove it.

Counting votes slowly continues today. One by one by one, IEC officials are tallying the tail end of some 20 million ballots. Some didn’t bother to vote, figuring they wouldn’t change the Zuma fait accomplis. Each result-update emphasizes how every ballot paper really does combine to create a grand total.

In Pretoria they’re counting the polls. Around the world, we’re counting the days. It’s now the time of numbers, of counting. It’s the period called Sefiras Ha’omer.

From second night Pesach until Shavuos, we count each day and tally each week in the longest seasonal mitzvah marathon of the year. Simply put, we’re counting the days until we re-receive the Torah on Shavuos.

Sefiras Ha’omer is more than a simple day-by-day count, though. Numbering the days as we do at this time alerts us to the message of counting.

You count things that are valuable. Some people count their money, others their blessings. Judaism teaches us to count every day that we live, to cherish each one and to make it count.

At the end of his life, our patriarch Avraham is described as “old and ‘come’ in days”. Avraham didn’t waste a day. When he looked back over his long and productive life, he could proudly recall how he had filled each day with meaning.

As the IEC does their counting, let’s make sure to do ours. Our challenge is to fill each day with meaning and growth.

Giving charity makes you money

There's new proof to show that giving charity makes you wealthy. Take a look.

Message from a guy in a dogbox

If you have ever visited Covent Gardens in central London, you'll know just how diverse and entertaining a place it is. If you've never been, put it on your itinerary for your next visit.

We stepped off the Underground and into the human sea there last Sunday morning. As we turned into the pedestrian mall, I noticed a guy with his purple hair tied back in a ponytail. Figuring my kids would find that intriguing, I planned to surreptitiously snap a shot without attracting his attention.

My brother-in-law, who is far more audacious than I, decided to create the photo-op for me. He strode over to Purple-Hair, offered a loud American "hello" and asked if they could pose together for a photo. Politely, our model agreed, but I couldn't help thinking that he probably looked at our beards, tzitzis and yarmulkes and figured: "Boy, these guys look strange."

We continued on past jugglers, mimes and buskers, while the "how do they look at us" complex bounced around in my head as we walked.

A creative busker caught our eye. He sat under a table, with his head protruding into a dog travel-box (you know, the type they use to take dogs on planes) and his face painted Fido-like. Two paw-gloves and a fluffy tail sticking out of the box topped off the costume.

The guy in the dog-box teased passersby, sang and made everyone smile. Seeing us, he asked: "Are you Loob'evitch?"

I'll admit, I was surprised.

"I like the Loob'evitch," he continued, "they're cool!"

Now, I was truly gobsmacked.

Purple-Hair had given me a frum-appearance complex, but Guy Dogbox restored my perspective.

Yesterday, we started reading the third book of the Torah, Vayikra. The first word, Vayikra, is spelled with a shrunken letter Alef. It is unusual for a letter in the Torah to be enlarged or minimised, so when it happens, you need to pay attention and learn something.

Elsewhere, the first word of the book of Chronicles starts with an enlarged letter Alef at the head of the name "Adam".

Vayikra describes how G-d calls Moses, while Chronicles talks about Adam, the first human tasked with making the world a better place. Between the two Alefs we learn a powerful lesson: When dealing with G-d, shrink your Alef* and stand humble and ready to hear His instruction. When facing the world, let your Alef stand tall and proud so that the world respects who you are and is ready to learn from you.

Unfortunately, we often get our Alefs mixed up. We express our opinion when it's time to listen to G-d and sit back daunted when we look the world in the eye.

Luckily, Hashem sometimes sends us reminders- in the most unexpected ways- to reset our Alef perspective.

We continued down the cobblestone, while the Dogbox struck up a lively "Hava Nagilla".

* Alef is the first letter of "Ani", the Hebrew for "I".

Stealing the limelight

Every tourist to London inevitably stops for a photo-op at Buckingham Palace. We were no exception and chose to get there for the much talked-about “changing of the guard”.

We arrived just moments before the royal spectacle began and the streets were already overcrowded with Nikon-wielding tourists from around the globe, vying for front row spots. We joined the throng to the first strains of march music as the Bearskins rounded the corner, followed by the stiffly synchronised marching guards.

We were not close enough to watch all the proceedings inside the palace grounds, but caught glimpses of flags marching back and forth and heard the barking of orders as the shifts changed. My camera captured more than my eye could and- thanks to digital technology- I was able to watch everything frame-by-frame a few seconds after it happened. Stretch arm, snap, look at photo, stretch, snap, repeat.

One photo is particularly revealing. It shows a flag-bearing guard and his armed counterpart brusquely marching along, while a nondescript suit ‘n tie clad man with an ID tag dangling from his neck looks on from inside a doorway.

My first thought when I saw it: “There’s the real security of Buckingham Palace”.

The honour guard at the palace is a great tourist trap, but the royals are most likely watched over by people you wouldn’t even notice.

Serving the King of kings is not too different. Some strut their Mitzvah stuff with a display that turns heads and elicits gasps of admiration. Others go about doing what needs to be done, with nobody noticing.

As we start the third book of the Torah this week, we will read the secret of offerings to G-d: “Adam (a man) who brings from you an offering to G-d”.

In Hebrew, you could also call a man ish, gever or enosh, yet the Torah chooses the name Adam in this context. It wants to remind us of the first person to ever give something to G-d: Adam. Soon after his creation, Adam offered a sacrifice to G-d. Nobody else was around to see what he had done. Adam was not out to impress anyone with his dedication to the Divine, because there was nobody around to impress.

The Torah highlights this message: Before you get into the details of what you plan to do for G-d, make sure you know how to do for G-d. Be like Adam, unconcerned for the approval of others, focused instead on what G-d needs you to do .

Need a lift?

Welcome to the morning after.

Purim was spectacular, Boruch Hashem, with best-ever crowds at Shul and good spirit all round. Now, we’re in the doldrums that follow the high.

I’m not talking about hangovers or headaches (thankfully), just that dullness that seems to follow wonderful moments. It’s not just that we battle to keep the high, it seems we humans naturally slip after the good times. It’s almost like the higher we climb, the harder we fall.

Maybe that’s why we read this week’s Parsha straight after Purim. It tells us how the Jews slid to our lowest ebb ever just days after experiencing history’s greatest high. Not long after G-d Himself revealed His Torah to us, our spiritual ADD kicked in and we built an idol. We went from hero to zero in record time!

You would expect the Torah to decry this horrible piece of our past, to subtly allude to it in less-than-polite terms. After all, the Golden Calf almost cost us our nationhood and remains the ugliest blight on our history’s landscape.

You probably know that the Torah refers to incidents with the name that would best describe the essence of the event. It should surprise you then to hear that the Torah portion that reports on the faith-lapse of the Jewish nation is called “Ki Sisa”, meaning “when you will lift or elevate”.

Is this Torah sarcasm?

If anything we will read this week of how the Jews FELL. The giving of the Torah was the ultimate lift, but we dropped sharply from unprecedented heights all the way down to rock bottom. Where’s the “lift” in this story?

To be sure, the “high” at Sinai was artificial. We were elevated by G-d, we didn’t elevate ourselves. When you lose inspiration and fall, you earn the opportunity to climb back up. In the portion Moshe rebukes his people, they recognize their spiritual recession and they immediately work to rise again. This time around they lift themselves- maybe not as high, but definitely more meaningfully.

Purim excitement is over, so it is now time to lift ourselves.

Our world has gone to the dogs (part III)- the good news

After my last two posts, you probably think that I'm complaining about the way the world has "gone to the dogs". Actually, I'm quite excited by it. I've been looking forward to this for quite some time.

It began about 15 years ago when I came across a rather cryptic Talmudic passage. Towards the end of Tractate Sanhedrin, the sages describe what the world will look like before Moshiach comes. All of their their descriptions are intriguing, some completely enigmatic.

I've always been fascinated by what our sages meant with these predictions, especially since I'm convinced that we're living in that time now. A simple glance at our world's rapid and unpredictable changes should tell you something major is afoot. Plus, this generation's greatest Jewish leader, the Lubavitcher Rebbe, repeated at every opportunity that "now is the time" and we need to open our eyes to see it happening.

Here are a few eye-openers: The current global economic meltdown could fit the Talmud's prediction that "the Messiah will not come until pockets are empty of coins" (although that could simply refer to credit cards or online banking). Rampant chutzpah, discord in Israel and family feuds are forecasts from that Talmudic passage I can relate to.

But, one prediction had me stumped. According to the Talmud, you'll know Moshiach is close when you seee "the face of the generation resembles a dog".

What does that mean? I know some say that every dog looks like its owner, but that hardly seems a plausible precursor to the Messianic Age.

I think our sages were telling us that before Moshiach comes, our world will go to the dogs.

Our world has gone to the dogs (part II)

In my last post I suggested that our world has gone to the dogs. Nu, what's so bad about that? After all, isn't a dog man's best friend?

Well, that's actually the point.

Dogs love us unconditionally, which is why we love them. Even when you arrive home in a foul mood, your loyal mutt will bound over, wag its tail and deposit a slobbery "hello" all over your face. Besides, Rover doesn't hold grudges, even don't take him walkies every day. He'll continue to love you after you grip the leash and stop him chasing the pigeons.

Canine loyalty isn't a cerebral thing. They don't love your for your talents or achievements. Dogs are loving and loyal because dogs are loving and loyal.

In Hebrew, a dog is called a kelev, which hints at kol-lev (all heart). Dogs are heart-creatures, emotion-driven not intellect driven.

Modern trends and opinions are also heart-driven. People make sentimental lifestyle choices, not always rational ones. You buy what you like- or think others will like- more often than you buy what you need or can afford. The credit crunch is thanks to kelevesque investment decisions taken impulsively, not rationally.

People vote for their leaders with their heart, not their minds. Obama's policies didn't steal the vote, his "Yes we can!" and "Change" rhetoric did. He spoke so successfully to people's hearts that he didn't need to appeal to their minds.

Kelev mentality.

More sinister is the way people's prejudices are shaped by emotive nonsense rather than hard facts.

Israel has lagged hopelessly in the media war for a long time. Yet, during Operation Cast Lead in Gaza, they seemed to rally. Tzippi Livni, Bibi Netanyahu and Mark Regev argued Israel's case eloquently on CNN, Sky and BBC. The IDF splashed out video footage of booby-trapped schools, missile stockpiles in mosques and IAF precision bombings, including pilots redirecting their missiles from terrorist targets when they entered civilian areas.

The world replied: "Don't confuse us with the facts".

And the facts are glaring: Close to 9000 missiles fired at Israel, Palestinian civilians used as human shields and Israel fighting the most moral war the world has ever seen. Still, nobody's interested.

Israel's pushing facts. Pallywood's pushing sensationalism. "Yes we can!" ignites the American heart, but so does "civilian victims". "War crimes" and "disprapotionate force", mixed with horrifying images of Palestinians parading their dead and wounded for the camera push the emotional buttons hard.

Here in South Africa they simply use a one-word emotive hook: "Apartheid". That's it, everyone now knows Israel is wrong.

It is so frustrating.

It is also so expected. You cannot reason with a world that thinks with its heart- not the deep intuitive heart, but the fickle emotive heart.

After all, our world has gone to the dogs...

Our world has gone to the dogs (part I)

It suddenly dawned on me, as I watched video footage of Muslim protestors attacking police* and trashing London, that our world has gone to the dogs.

Rows of Bobbies wagged truncheons and ordered the protestors back, as they inched slowly backwards, for blocks. I kept watching, waiting for reinforcements to arrive, certain the riot police would rush in to take control. But, the agitators continued to hurl abuse, sticks and traffic cones at The Law, while cops shouted, threatend, false-charged and retreated.

To me, these officers looked just like the protective beagle that growls and barks at the gate, but scampers away as soon as you confront him.

"Allah hu akbar!"

"Yip, yip, yip". Scamper. "Yip, yip, yip".

French police backed off from marauding Muslims on Parisian streets and Oslo cops battled to stand up to demonstrators there. In San Francisco, police ignored flag-burning and incitement like "Every Zionazi is a legitimate military target". They instead removed a lone Jewish protestor with an anti-Hamas placard.

"Yip, yip, yip."

What played out on the avenues of London and Paris is a microcosm of world leadership's (in)action against this century's most serious threat. Those who are supposed to police our planet and contain rogue behaviour are all bark and no bite. They yelp, sneer and dart off as soon as they feel the heat.

"Pyonyang, halt your nuclear programme immediately!"

"Yip, yip, yip".

"Ahmadinejad, Nasrallah, Assad, don't threaten Israel!"

"Yip, yip, yip".

War on terror. "Yip, yip". Regime change for Zimbabwe. "Yip, yip".

Our world has gone to the dogs...



* WARNING: Strong language in this clip!

When in doubt, opt for love

Yale Butler caused a storm in Pittsburgh’s Jewish community. It was the early 60’s and Yale was just twelve at the time.

A creative youngster, Yale wrote a fictional column for his school’s newspaper. The article that caused a stir fantasized about Fidel Castro calling on his brothers (people with untrimmed beards) from 770 Eastern Parkway (Lubavitch World Headquarters) to help fight off an invasion of Cuba.

Pittsburgh Jews were not impressed and Yale was sharply taken to task. But, a local Chabadnik figured that instead of berating the budding writer, he’d take him to meet the Rebbe in New York. An encounter with the Rebbe, he figured, would do far more to educate Yale than lectures or reprimands.

The Rebbe greeted Yale warmly and specifically complimented his writing talent. On the Rebbe’s desk sat a copy of the offensive article. The Rebbe did not mention it.

In time, Yale became an editor for a major Jewish newspaper, eventually using the Rebbe’s talks as the basis for his weekly Parsha column. The Rebbe became one of his subscribers, and once mentioned how he had known Yale “since he was a child”.

On Wednesday, we commemorated the 58th anniversary of the Rebbe’s leadership. His opening statement as the new Rebbe was: “Three loves are intertwined- love of G-d, love of Torah, love of the Jewish people.”

As the man who would lead a revolution of Jewish revival, love- not judgement- would be the guiding theme of his Jewish outreach campaign.

You may, at times, feel tempted to react harshly to a friend or family member, especially if they’ve stepped out of line. They might accept your criticism. They might not.

Show them love- even when you criticize- and you are guaranteed success.

That’s how the Rebbe responded to Yale Butler and tens of thousands like him. That’s how the Torah wants us to respond to those around us.

When in doubt- show love.

My way or...

“Let my people go!”

“No!”

“Let them go!

“No!”

Robert Mugabe must be a great-great-grandson of Pharaoh. Indisputable facts mean nothing to him. He’s convinced Zim is just fine, despite its complete economic collapse and wildfire cholera epidemic.

He is just like Pharaoh, who watched his country’s water become infected, all its crops destroyed and his people become ill and die. Yet, he remained unmoved.

How can a leader be so blind to the obvious crisis in his backyard?

Pharaoh- and all his spiritual heirs through history- remained convinced at all times that he was the only one who “really” understood. His way was the right way. After all, things had run his way for as long as he could recall and had worked.

“Free the Jews? We’ve never done that, why should we start now?”

“Obey Hashem? Nobody tells me what to do!”

Pharaoh could choose to be “right” or to be happy. He chose to be “right”- and paid the price.

He’s still alive today, Pharaoh, inside you and inside me.

He still spews rhetoric about how he’s the only one who truly understands and nobody is clever enough to advise him and how he has always done things this way, which must prove he is right. Pharaoh is our voice of over-confidence and inflexibility.

To succeed in life we need to listen to our Moses-voice, the one that urges progress, openness to new ideas and a listening ear.

Big Talk

Fools rush in.

Many of us feel frustrated at Israel’s poor PR effort. Why can’t they just hire a top-notch marketing company to brainstorm and get our side of the story out there? Sure, this time around we’ve had better media representatives than ever, but nobody seems to hear what they say. CNN and co. keep spewing the same “Israel = aggressor” rhetoric despite out best efforts.

Amazingly, as always, the weekly Torah portion is a mirror of contemporary events.

Pharaoh created a high-grade propaganda machine that turned his nation against the Israelites. Who did Hashem send to face off with him? Moshe, a man with a speech impediment!

Oh, but Hashem also backed him up with state-of-the-art miracles to convince Pharaoh that he had better listen. Moshe and Aharon confronted with a lifeless staff and transformed it into a writhing serpent.

Pharaoh remained unmoved. His people could do the same- if not better. The Egyptian sorcerers quickly responded with snakes of their own, water that turned to blood and a swarm of frogs- matching Moshe move for move and dismissing his antics as party tricks in the hub of black magic.

Moshe drew a trump-card. Lice. Witchcraft has no mastery over such tiny creatures, so Pharaoh and his henchmen were stumped. And silenced.

“A fool lets out all his wind, but afterwards a wise man will quiet it”, says King Solomon.

A fool yells a phony message, throwing out “proofs” quickly and loudly, conning the world for a time.

The wise man carries eternal truth. He is quiet and measured, confident that Truth will trounce falsehood again- as it always has.

Israel sure has received some bad press lately. With accusations of targeting schools, killing children and bombing UN agencies- it’s not surprising some of our own community are feeling a little uncomfortable with what we’re hearing.

We know the Israeli answer, but find it difficult to digest. Would Hamas really put their children in the line of fire? To the Western mind, this is impossible.

And, is it possible that world media carries an anti-Israel (read anti-Semitic) bias? Don’t they research and report objectively?

None of this is news to us. It’s part and parcel of the Jewish reality. We have had to deal with this sort of thing from even before we were a nation. Anti-Semitism is older than Judaism.

Chassidic philosophy teaches that the Egytpian Exile is the prototype for every subsequent anti-Semitic event or era. Read the story of Egypt and you’ll know what to expect- and how it will all end.

Pharaoh hated Jews, we all know that. But, his people didn’t. They had good memories of Jews, after all Joseph had saved their country from economic collapse and built it into a world superpower.

Slowly and deliberately Pharaoh fed his nation warnings of the “Jewish threat”: “They will take your jobs”, “They will ally with our enemies”, “They breed like rabbits, they will overrun us”. For all you know he could have used Joseph to illustrate how the Jews control the world.

Pharaoh was so intent on killing Jews he ordered all baby boys thrown into the Nile- Jewish and Egyptian. Golda Meir wasn’t visionary for saying peace would depend on the Arabs loving their children more than they hate us. She understood history.

Welcome to Pharaoh 2009.

We’re not praying for the IDF to win this war. Or any other.

We want Moses 2009- to take us Home and make the world a peaceful place.

Israel- a call to action

It's a few minutes before Shabbos and the rush is on, but this thought struck me and I would like to share it.

Israel's at war- again. Our collective Jewish heart skips a beat each time we hear of another missile attack or a soldier that was killed. Our collective Jewish conscience cringes each time a Palestinian is killed, because we don't celebrate the deaths of our enemies.

Global Jewish mobilisation in support of Israel is heart-warming. From Israeli-flag Facebook profiles to following IDF soldiers on Twitter to pro-Israel demonstrations to letters to the press to emailing video clips- people have responded.

Well, here's another "what you can do for Israel", gleaned from tommorrow's Torah portion.

Jacob dies. His last will calls for his sons to bury him in Canaan, which they set out to do. Egyptian dignitaries join the sad procession in respect to Joseph, their viceroy who is mourning his father.

Others have darker intentions.

As the procession leaves Egypt, a band of Ishmaelite and Canaanite princes ambush the group. Suddenly, inexplicably, instead of attacking the small Jewish band and their Egyptian associates, the princes join the funeral, hanging their crowns on Jacob's bier.

What changed their attitude?

Joseph's crown. The Talmud describes how they saw his crown adorning the casket and felt compelled to do the same.

Notice- they didn't change their tune out of fear of the Egyptians (World Superpower at the time) who accompanied the Jews. The emphasis is on Joseph's crown, not the viceroy of Egypt's crown.

What is the secret of Joseph's crown? Why did it stop the assault dead in its tracks?

Joseph was an atypical Jew. Unlike his brothers, he didn't live in isolation, tending the flocks, free to meditate and pray all day. He was deeply involved in the modern world, managing the most powerful position in the world.

Unlike others who rise to prominence, he didn't assimilate into the surrounding culture. Riding the wave of Egyptian world-domination, Joseph remained faithful to his roots. Rather than allowing society to shape his life, Joseph used morality and values learned in his father's home to guide society.

Joseph teaches us how to live in the "real" world, proud of the Jew we are.

As Israel battles its enemies in Gaza and its critics around the world, we need to wear Joseph's crown. It is the crown of Tefillin on our heads each morning and the pride of our Jewish heritage for all the world to see always.

Joseph's crown is so powerful, anyone who sees it switches from enemy to ally.

We pray for the day when there will be no more war, when all people will collaborate and assist each other. May today be that day.

Imbalance

Deja vu.

Israel fighting to defend its citizens and World condemnation of Arab bloodshed.

They call it a "cycle of violence" and blame "both" sides. They demand a balanced truce.

As if the two sides could be equated.

I say to the World: The day you see a photo of a Hamas terrorist and Jewish child interacting like this Israeli soldier and Palestnian girl, you can dare to use the expression "both" sides.

A "previously unheard-of terrorist group"

We now have a new kid on the terror-monger block, the so-called "Decca Mujahideen". They're the amoral beasts who wreaked havoc in Mumbai and slaughtered six of our own in the city's Chabad House.

It seems as if each time there's a new terror attack in the world, there's a new group that pops up with it.

Honestly, I find it difficult to believe that a fledgling group tucked away in a Pakistani village has the capacity or resources to train and arm the professional assault team that attacked India's financial capital last week.

Around the world, governments and anti-terror agencies are being distracted by the "previously unheard-of" group theory. These shop-front splinter cells are simply a deflection from the big-daddy, mega-terror states and ideologies that sponsor them.

But, I'm not an expert on geopolitics nor on terrorism and don't believe a short vent here will solve these problems.

I do believe that our inner worlds reflect whatever plays out on the global stage- and that is where we need to focus our attention.

Each of us has a core of goodness, values and integrity. We also have a distracting side that will do anything to mislead and confuse us. It's the old Yetzer Tov (good inclination) v. Yetzer Horah (evil inclination) scenario.

You try to develop your spiritual side, but your negative impulses kick in- pulling in any direction but the one you know you should follow.

With minimal focus, you can identify your enemy. He's the one telling you how tired you are, how busy you are, how unrealistic your spiritual expectations are. When you know your enemy, you can remain alert to his attacks and commit yourself to thwarting them.

Of course, your internal enemy does not simply continue using old strategies, keeping himself in your sights and allowing you easy access to self-development.

Just when you think you've brought peace to your personal world, a "new" group attacks. If you've become a little more frum, you're suddenly hit with the "holier-than-thou" challenge; once you've mastered keeping your mouth shut and not spreading all that juicy gossip, your judgmental mind comes to life.

If you're not thinking, you could fall for the gag that you've conquered the serious areas of inner-struggle and now have a "new group" to address. If you are thinking, you'll appreciate that any small assault on your spiritual growth is sponsored by the mega-terrorist within. Until you've uprooted him, you'll keep on battling.

How do you oust your Innerdinejad?

Darkness runs from light. Concentrating your energies on fighting your frailties will tire you out. Investing extra energy in doing even more of the right stuff will empower you- and weaken your enemies.