AISH.com: Attorney for Israel - Baruch Cohen knows the art of the fight. by Judy Gruen

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Attorney for Israel 
by Judy Gruen 

Baruch Cohen knows the art of the fight.

At the end of his second year in law school, Baruch Cohen was invited to interview for a job with a Wall Street law firm. This was a total surprise, as he had not applied for a position with the “white shoe” firm, which normally courted straight-A, Ivy League waspy students. Baruch, in contrast, attended a mid-level law school, was obviously Jewish, and didn’t have a perfect GPA. The dean told him, “I have no idea why you got this opportunity but I suggest you not wear your yarmulke to the interview. And make sure those white strings aren’t coming out of your belt.”

Coming from a long line of orthodox rabbis and committed to his Judaism, Baruch was torn. “I grew up in a tough Far Rockaway neighborhood,” he recalls. “Where I come from, anyone telling me to take off my kippah was usually angling for a fight.” He asked advice from rabbis and orthodox attorneys he knew: wear the kippah for the interview or not? Everyone advised he remove it for this potentially career-making opportunity.

With his kippah in his pocket, Baruch walked into the interview feeling almost as if he were shirtless. He was stunned to see that the attorney sitting there wore a huge velvet yarmulke and tzitzit. His first question to Baruch was, “Where’s your yarmulke?”

Too shocked to speak, Baruch learned that this attorney had seen him clerking in court, noticed his kippah and decided to offer him an interview. As the young law student stood there defenseless, the elder man laced into him. “You’re a sellout,” he said. “This is a firm of leaders, not followers.” The interview ended before it began.

This event was a defining moment, sharpening Baruch Cohen’s commitment to never apologize for who he was.

This event, which took place more than 25 years ago, was a defining moment, sharpening Baruch Cohen’s commitment to never apologize for who he was. “Ever since that day, I have worn my kippah everywhere, at bench trials and any other professional venue. If someone has a problem with my kippah, it’s their problem, not mine. Orthodox Jewish attorneys should not feel like second-class citizens in the American judicial system. Our Torah pioneered all the core concepts of law.”

A successful L.A. business and litigation attorney, Baruch Cohen says that today, it’s common to see observant attorneys wearing kippahs in the courtroom, and he has never personally encountered flack from judges for it. But among the many articles he has written on the intersection of Jewish and civil law, one was based on a Texas judge who demanded an orthodox attorney remove his kippah in her courtroom or she would not allow him to argue his case there.

Defending Israel

Baruch Cohen holding a Kassam rocket
that Hamas fired into Sderot

Baruch’s persona as an observant Jew, especially in the very public arena of courthouses, makes him a magnet for questions about Israel and Judaism. Once a Jewish colleague cornered him at the courthouse. “I can’t understand why Israel won’t make peace with the Palestinians,” the man asked.

Baruch was outraged at the man’s naiveté. “This was a stacked question, so I employed a technique to get him to see the truth. Knowing the man was around 60, I asked him if he had ever had a CAT scan or MRI.”

“That’s an invasive question,” the man countered.

Baruch repeated the question, and as he retells the story, he clearly savors the memory of the duel. His colleague admitted that he had not only had these medical scans but that a tumor had been discovered along the way.

Did you decide to make peace with the tumor or did you go to battle with it to save your life?

Baruch then went in for the kill: “Did you decide to make peace with the tumor or did you go to battle with it to save your life?” The other lawyer was so startled by the analogy that he actually invited Baruch to make a presentation on Israel to a group of lawyers, all of whom had biases against Israel.

“Lawyers are supposed to be evidence-based, which means they should be on the forefront of defending Israel,” Baruch observes. In 2010, during the Gaza flotilla crisis, he was so outraged by the drumbeat of overwhelmingly negative press against Israel that he launched a blog called American Trial Attorneys in Defense of Israel. The blog includes links to Israel-related news articles, videos (including from Aish.com) blog posts and other commentary, and even the occasional parody, all meant to educate and enlighten readers about Jewish spirituality and Israel realpolitik. He credits Harvard law professor Alan Dershowitz’s books Chutzpah and The Case for Israel in particular as an inspiration for his own advocacy.

“In a court of law, I’d have the opportunity to impeach Israel’s defamers. My blog is a cyberspace court of law,” he says. A Jewish judge confided to Baruch that his notions about Israel had previously been formed by the reflexively leftist editorial pages of the Los Angeles Times. This judge, whose name had been floated as a U.S. Supreme Court nominee, has since done a complete turnaround on Israel in part from reading the blog, and has even taken groups of colleagues there. Baruch is satisfied that the blog is having an impact. “Besides, the attorney reading the blog today might be a senator tomorrow.” Baruch has spoken several times on the case for Israel, including on behalf of the Committee for Accuracy in Middle East Reporting in America (CAMERA.)

Baruch and son Yehuda holding
Sefer Torah dedicated to Hindy Cohen

It is clear when talking to Baruch Cohen that this man loves a good fight. “I’m a student of Sun Tzu's The Art of War,” he says. “I'm tenacious like a pit bull when in fight-mode.” From his spacious ninth-floor office in midtown Los Angeles with floor-to-ceiling windows, on a clear day he can see all the way to the Pacific Ocean from one view and the skyscrapers downtown from the opposite view. Before a big case, he likes to pace the office in his stocking feet, practicing his arguments. “This is my lucky stress-reliever and helps focus my mind, like Bruce Willis in Diehard.”

It’s not surprising that a man who channels Bruce Willis and Sun Tzu would also boast of his “aggressive” legal tactics in advertisements for his practice. He was also delighted to hear that an attorney from the opposing side in one case was warned, “Be afraid, be very afraid” of going against him. Don’t these “scorched earth” tactics and overt aggressiveness feed into negative Jewish stereotypes? Aren’t they at odds with ideals of Jewish justice and sensitivity?

“Not at all,” he states. “I’m aggressive but not abrasive. When a client is pursued wrongfully, it’s therapeutic to have someone strong on their side. It is rehabilitative for a broken and downtrodden client to have someone willing to fight for them to the max. As long as it is done with honesty and integrity, I see no contradiction. And sometimes the best offense is a good defense.”

Baruch is an avid fan of Aish.com. “There is nothing out there in the Jewish community as vast and comprehensive as Aish.com for Torah insights, history, or inspiration. When someone asks me a question about Judaism, nine times out of ten I’ll find the perfect thing on Aish.com, copy the article in an email, and highlight the areas of particular interest to that person. It lends credibility to what I have said and expands on it.”

Daughter’s Death

Fighting on behalf of clients and on behalf of the State of Israel is nothing compared to the fight Baruch and his wife, Adina, fought for two and half years to save the life of their eldest daughter, Hindy. Diagnosed with cancer just days after the September 11, 2001 terrorist attacks, Hindy passed away at 17. Asked about the impact of his daughter’s death, Baruch sighs heavily and momentarily hangs his head.

“Without question this was the darkest and most traumatic event of our lives. This sort of tragic death can crush a person. In my darkness, Rabbi Boruch Gradon handed me a letter from Rabbi Moshe Feinstein, written to the head of the Lakewood Yeshiva after the head of the yeshiva became a bereaved parent. I was so lost, but began to feel lifted knowing that the Torah offers strength and direction, even for this type of tragedy.”

Baruch began collecting other such letters, written by righteous and deeply knowledgeable Jews on the topic of consolation. He translated letters from Hebrew, but also collected letters written in English, including one from Abraham Lincoln, who lost two sons. Baruch became consumed by this project, eventually collecting 700 pages of letters, poems and songs that helped him grieve and heal. He published the book, called Reb Yochanan’s Bone: Inspiration to the Bereaved Parent, named for a rabbi of the Talmudic era who lost 10 children. Baruch has given away approximately 250 copies of this book to others struggling through bereavement.

Being wrapped in my grief was isolating me from everyone. I couldn’t allow the darkness to consume me.”

“If anyone had suggested when I was in the darkest point in my grief that there was ever a day I could be happy, laugh and sing again, I would have said it’s impossible. That day eventually came after years of hard work, attending a group for bereaved parents, humbling myself to learn from the writings of others, and realizing that it’s not only about me. Being wrapped in my grief was isolating me from everyone.”

“People grieve differently, at different paces. Learning to respect my wife’s space was an extremely important epiphany,” he observes. “The moment I was able to focus on how other members of my family were coping it became healing for me.”

Baruch realized that as a trial attorney, his business was about understanding other people’s causes. “I decided to be my own lawyer, to champion my own cause. Grief had become the greatest adversary of my life. It has a gravitational force of its own, and I couldn’t allow the darkness to consume me.”

“Eventually, I started to carve out a path to recognize happiness from tragedy,simcha m’toch tzara. God measures the tragedy and sends us signs that He’s still with us. God gave me many signs showing me He had not abandoned me, and that was a substantial lifeline.”

“One Friday night at shul, I was still in my own personal hell, not paying attention to the davening. Then I heard the line from Lecha Dodi, “Too long have I dwelled in the valley of tears,” and I felt that was a signal from God. I decided that was time to get my second wind. The book was finished, we had dedicated a Torah scroll in Hindy’s memory, my in-laws had dedicated an ambulance in her memory to Hatzalah, and we had founded the Hindy Cohen Memorial Fund at Bais Yaakov of Los Angeles, where Hindy went to school.” This fund sponsors an annual day of learning for parents, as well as the Halleli Song and Dance Production, produced by the school every other year. “The time had come to reclaim some happiness.”

Finally, he felt the pain migrating out of him at a healthy pace. But based on his experiences, he has been shocked at the well-meaning yet insensitive things people often say when paying a condolence call. “Don’t try to suggest to anyone in this situation that they know why the tragedy happened, or that the bereaved family was ‘chosen’ for this mission because of any elevated spiritual status. I found that maddening, and I rebelled against it all.”

At a huge price, Baruch says the experience made him a deeper person. “I had never noticed people in wheelchairs until I went to Disneyland pushing a wheelchair, and then all I noticed was wheelchairs. I used to have some envy for the trappings of the rich and famous. Now the very oxygen I breathe is different. I can sense pain in a person, and I focus on good people with good values.”

Despite his many years in an emotional wilderness, Baruch says that his daughter’s death does not define him. “I know my child wants me to be in a positive mindset. I don’t wear it on my sleeve, but will share it with people who complain bitterly about their lives. I try to convey to them, ‘I am with you in your pain. You are not alone.’”

In public talks, Baruch emphasizes what he has learned about how to trust in God, the power of imagination, learning to rid yourself of envy, and how to carve out happiness from any scenario you are in. “If you are sick in bed, okay, you are not blind. If you are blind, well, you are alive. I believe that God is always holding and supporting you.”

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Get Clarity: Aish.com's Rosh Hashanah Music Video

AISH: NISSIM™ "Chronicles" - Black Jewish Rapper by Rabbi Tzvi Gluckin

His name is Nissim – which means miracles in Hebrew. An apt description of his life.

Seward Park is a neighborhood in southeast Seattle. Visit if you’re looking for Seattle’s orthodox Jews. Most of them live there. The neighborhood is chockfull of synagogues – including the oldest synagogue in Washington State – and other staples of Jewish life. At least it’s that way until you get to Rainier Avenue. Cross Rainier and you’re in the hood: drugs, poverty, crime, all the things you expect to find in America’s inner cities.
Nissim Black (formerly Damian Black and known in the rap world as D.Black) grew up in Seward Park a few blocks from Rainier Avenue. He lived close enough to the Jewish community to play basketball in a lot adjacent to one of the synagogues. But that was about it. Nissim wasn’t Jewish – not yet – and his world and his friends were on the other side of Rainier Avenue.
And Nissim – as his Hebrew name implies – believes in miracles.
As D.Black, Nissim was a rap artist on the move. His second release, Ali ‘Yah, sat for five weeks at number four on the CMJ hip hop charts. He toured the U.S. and was featured at many of the top festivals (SXSW, Capitol Hill Block Party, etc, etc). His video “Yesterday” was in regular rotation on MTV.
Not bad.
Music was in his blood. His father is Captain Crunch from the legendary Emerald Street Boys – think super old-school hip-hop a la “Rapper’s Delight” – and his mother was in the rap world as well. His mentor, Vitamin D – DJ, producer, MC, and often hailed as the foundation of Seattle hip hop – took him under his wing at an early age, showed him the ropes, and began recording him at age 13. He also benefited from an early association with hip-hop super-producer Jake One.
Miraculous? Probably not. Fortunate, yes. But sometimes good fortune comes at a price.
Nissim’s home was a mess. His parents used drugs and sold drugs. Not an easy place to grow up – try becoming king-of-the-hip-hop-hill when you’re surrounded by drug users. Their home was like Grand Central Station for dealers and users. And drugs take their toll on families.
Nissim’s father was the first to go. His mother left him when Nissim was two. His stepfather wasn’t much better. It was a bad scene; when the dealers weren’t interested the cops were. The FBI raided their home in 1995 – Nissim was seven at the time – their house was battle-rammed; live firearms, AK-47s, his mother forcibly arrested. Imagine going through that at seven. (Nissim’s mother died of an overdose when he was 19. She was 37.)

God Like

Drugs are an ugly glow from the wrong side of Rainier Avenue. They fit the stereotype. Drugs and a challenging childhood make it difficult to see miracles.
But jealous homeboy-wannabe-nobodies make it impossible.
Nissim’s relationship with Jake One enabled him to get a song included on White Van Music, a killer compilation of hip-hop heavies featuring artists that Jake One produced. Nissim was one of three Seattle-area rappers featured on the album. When White Van Music hit, Nissim, or rather D.Black, was a nobody. But “God Like” – Nissim’s D.Black feature on the album – changed that. “God Like” was big. It didn’t make D.Black a household name, but it put him on the map. And it made him a somebody in Seattle. Being a somebody in a world of nobodies is cool, except that some of the nobodies want to be somebody, too. And those nobodies will put you down and start trouble.
Another local rapper wanted attention. He needed someone to dis – as in disrespect – and D.Black fit the bill. D.Black was on the way up: insult him, provoke a response, and ride the wave up with him. The other rapper talked trash. Word got out.
So what?
An insult – especially from a nobody – means nothing in the real world, but not on the street. On the street you have to say something and put an end to the garbage, otherwise you are dissed. And dissed is bad. D.Black and friends found the rapper, threw a few punches, told him to quit it, and end of story.
Except it wasn’t the end of the story. Now the other rapper was dissed and that didn’t sit well with his people. So they started talking. And D.Black’s people started talking. And it escalated. And soon a friend of D.Black opened fire in a nightclub and the cops were called and the friend went to jail and D.Black was a wanted man.
So much for a promising music career.
But fear – fear of the cops, fear of jail – is a powerful motivator. And fear can sometimes penetrate the pettiness of the street. The other rapper called Nissim and they worked it out. Peace. The cops had their man and so they left Nissim and the rapper and everyone else alone. End of story. It was a close call and it got Nissim thinking. Maybe things didn’t have to be this way.
And maybe you can believe in miracles.

Islam, Christianity or Judaism?

Nissim thought a lot about miracles and faith and religion and God. It was all around him. It wasn’t constant in his life, but it was there.
When he was seven his grandfather came to live with him. His grandfather was a Muslim and taught him the Koran, how to make blessings in Arabic, and the salat (Islamic ritual prayer performed five times a day). But his grandfather wasn’t destined to be a symbol of stability in his life. He was out on parole and in 1996 violated the terms of parole and was sent back to jail. Nissim didn’t know enough – and he was too young – to be an observant Muslim. But if anyone asked, Islam was his religion.
Enough people asked about his religion to give him a reputation as the local Muslim. It was enough of a reputation that a Seattle-based evangelical group recruited him – now 13 – for their summer camp. He loved that camp. He loved being out of the city and away from the drugs and the crime. It was a breath of fresh air. He was inspired and on a high and by the end of the summer a convert to Christianity.
Now fast-forward to 20-year-old D.Black, rapper-on-the-rise. He thought about his life – his mother’s recent death from drugs, his good fortune in the music world, his close call with violence and the law, miracles good and bad – and he naturally thought about it from a Christian perspective. He thought about the factors that shaped his life, his experiences, and his troubles. He thought about God and faith and what it all meant. And he had questions – not necessarily big life-changing questions – but good questions:
If Jesus was Jewish, why aren't Christians Jewish? And shouldn't we still observe the commandments of the “Old Testament” to show God how much we love Him? I mean, He commanded them, didn’t He? And which religion came first: Islam, Christianity, or Judaism?
Good questions. He looked online. Google led him places. To a lot of places. He looked everywhere and was open to everything. He read and researched and thought. What’s up with the Old Testament? Is it true? It seems like it is.
But what about Jesus?
Okay. So Nissim became a messianic Jew: a practicing Jew and a believer in Jesus. And that was comfortable because he didn’t want to give up on Jesus. He thought that if you give up on Jesus you burn in hell.
And who wants to burn in hell?
But the more you learn, the more questions you have. And Nissim had a lot of questions. He was studying all the time.

Nissim today

He went to his biological father. Since the time Nissim’s mother had left him, his father had cleaned up his act and was on his way to becoming a Christian theologian (today he is a professor of Christian thought at a number of colleges in the Seattle area).
“What’s up with Christmas and Easter? Weren’t they originally pagan holidays?”
“Yes that’s true,” his father told him. “But they have been sanctified.”
Not good enough. Nissim dropped Jesus and the Christian holidays. His practice and belief were now Jewish. Great. Except nothing is ever that easy.
Back when Nissim was in high school, he met his wife. She was with him when his mother passed away; moving in with him and his family, grieving with them, and then moving Nissim out to get him away from the drugs and the madness. She was with him on his spiritual journey as well and he eventually discussed with her his discovery about the pagan holidays and his interest in the Torah.
But she could only go so far. She was a hardcore Christian, from a strong evangelical background. She came from a close family and not being with them for the holidays was a difficult idea for her.
But he was persistent.
He convinced her to study. They cracked open the books, asked questions, and searched online. His persistence paid off. Not only did his wife agree to join him on his journey in Jewish observance, she took the lead and pushed him to consider an orthodox conversion. And she convinced her sister and her sister’s husband to join them as well.
Now there were four people growing in Jewish observance together. Quite a miracle.

Don’t Be a Flake

Nissim’s second album, Ali ‘Yah, came out at that time. He was a messianic Jew when the album was recorded but had abandoned Jesus about six months after its release. He was also studying with a rabbi and working toward conversion. He wanted to study and grow and get on with conversion. He no longer wanted to wade knee deep in the muck and mire of entertainment international.
But a deal is a deal and he had to tour to support the album. Someone paid for the studio time, pressing, distribution, PR, the whole nine yards, and he wanted a return on his investment. It was only fair. So Nissim agreed to tour. But on the condition that he wouldn’t get paid – except for touring expenses – and in return for not taking any money he wanted to observe Shabbat and the holidays on the road.
Deal. His management went for it – who wouldn’t? – and Ali ‘Yah was a great success. For everyone except Nissim.
With the tour behind him, Nissim and crew went into hibernation to begin the long arduous process of conversion. It was a multiyear process and culminated in a massive double re-wedding paid for in full by the Seattle Jewish community.
And that was that. Nice story. Happy ending. Everyone is Jewish and life is wonderful.
Except that Nissim wasn’t working and his family was growing. You can’t live on passion. His brother-in-law told him to get back into music. His wife told him to go back into music. It seemed like everyone told him to get back into music. But he didn’t want to do it. The music world is no place for a nice Jewish boy. He didn’t believe the hype. He didn’t need to. And he didn’t need the fake-flattery-nonsense-aura of celebrity. He was beyond that.
But music had benefits, too. It wasn’t all bad. He had power. And in particular, he had the power to do good with music. Kids listen to rap stars. They don’t listen to their parents or teachers. Call it the power of influence.
What to do? He didn’t know. So he didn’t do anything. And he waited.
Then his son got a fever. For a day, then two days. Then five days. And then they were in the hospital and it was serious. The doctors ran tests and concluded it was meningitis.
There was nothing Nissim could do but pray and hope for a miracle.
So he did. He went home and prayed. He prayed for his son and for health and for life and for everything that’s important. He prayed for clarity and guidance.
DO YOU HEAR ME? HELLO. I NEED HELP. WHAT ARE YOU TRYING TO TELL ME, AND WHAT AM I SUPPOSED TO DO? I DON’T GET IT.
Music? What about music? Should I do that? Was all that for nothing?
Maybe God will show me a sign? Maybe.
Nissim had a microphone in his home studio. He stopped using it when he stopped making music. And it stopped working. He fiddled with it from time to time but it was dead.
I can’t be an MC without a mic. Show me a sign.
He turned on the mic and it worked. Another miracle. Nissim looked up and laughed. It was that obvious.
Maybe. God can do anything, but He doesn’t usually send messages via broken recording equipment. Some people see images of the Virgin Mary in their toast, too. And some toasters are said to be possessed by the devil. Maybe. But you can’t call it a clear case of divine intervention.
His rabbi said the same thing. Miracles are wonderful things, but don’t rely on miracles. Think about your life and make your decision because it is the right thing to do. Don’t be a flake.
So Nissim thought about it. It was hard. But he decided it was time to put his gifts back into action, not for self-glorification, but to inspire, to be a positive role model, and to help others.
And with that the doors opened – miraculously. A record deal fell into his lap, invitations for music festivals came out of nowhere, the local press took a sudden interest in him, and he recorded a new album.
Nissim's rabbi, Rabbi Simon Benzaquen, cannot overstate how important he feels Nissim's new music is. "Nissim is accomplishing two extremely important things with his new album," Rabbi Benzaquen says. "America's Jews and African-Americans should be natural allies. We have both overcome so much and share so much. Nissim is an important bridge in bringing us together. And what's more, Nissim's music transcends the standard bravado of rap. He is reclaiming the music's natural poetry."
Do you believe in miracles? Nissim does. He sees them everyday. Are they as big as the sea splitting or Elvis coming back from the dead?
No. But they are big enough.
Visit Nissim’s website www.nissimofficial.com and follow him on Twitter @nissimofficial and Facebook Facebook.com/nissim.music.

Controlling Emotions: A Lesson from Angry Birds

Rocks Can Kill The New York Times’ misnomer of “non-violent” Palestinian rock-throwers.

The great advocate of non-violent resistance, Mahatma Gandhi, never threw rocks.

Martin Luther King Jr. never threw rocks.

But according to the New York Times, Palestinians who throw rocks are following the “path of unarmed resistance.”

For its March 17 cover story (“Is This Where the Third Intifada Will Start?”), theTimes’ Sunday magazine profiled the Palestinian village of Nabi Saleh. But not until over 1,000 words into the story does reporter Ben Ehrenreich mention that the “unarmed” resisters routinely throw stones at Israelis. One of the Palestinians quoted explains that “I want to help my country and my village… I can just throw stones.” Another says, “We see stones as our message.”

When it comes to whitewashingPalestinian violence, this is just the tip of the iceberg.

In the West Bank town of Bilin, where Palestinian rioters regularly hurl rocks, Molotov cocktails and burning tires, 170 Israeli soldiers were injured during one 18-month period. So how did the Christian Science Monitor describe this violence? “Peaceful Palestinian Resistance is Paying Off” (February 11, 2010). The Los Angeles Times – under the front-page headline, “Palestinians Who See Nonviolence as Their Weapon” – described how Palestinian weapons consist of innocuous “bullhorn, banners, and a fierce belief” in “peaceful protest” (November 4, 2009). Incredibly, the Times suggests that 170 Israelis were injured after being overwhelmed by bullhorns and banners.

This same media mentality can spin even the most violent Palestinian groupsas passive and calm. The Globe and Mail, Canada’s newspaper of record, bought into the false notion that Hamas – best known for perfecting the art of bus bombings, rocket fire and restaurant explosions – has evolved into “ethical,” “truthful,” "pragmatic” peaceniks who advocate “non-violent resistance.” (Patrick Martin, July 7, 2009; Orly Halpern, February 26, 2008)

As shards of glass hit the driver’s eyes, the bus veered off the road.

If anyone had any doubt about whether rock-throwing was perhaps “peaceful,” the events of March 14, 2013 have proved otherwise. Rock-throwing Palestinians hit an Israeli bus, sending shards of glass into the driver’s eyes and causing the bus to go off the road.

As a truck swerved to avoid the bus, a car crashed and became trapped under the truck, resulting in serious injuries to a mother and her three children. One of them, 2-year-old daughter, Adele, is in life-threatening condition.

On a single evening last week, seven people were injured in 10 different rock-throwing attacks. One 10-month-old baby was severely injured by glass fragments to the face.

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Over the years, dozens of Israeli civilians have been murdered and maimed by this "innocent act of "resistance" that should be more accurately defined as “low-tech terror.”

Tragically, the more the media presents Palestinian violence as peaceful, the more Israel is stripped of its license to fight against them – endangering the very foundation of Israel’s security.

This leaves just one question: Why does the media insist on covering all this up?

Passover: Breaking News

AISH: A Time to Fight; When an Arab terrorist tried to kill Yael Mitzafon, she had three choices: fight, flight or freeze. She fought.

At first Yael Mitzafon, 36, thought the mysterious footsteps walking across the living room must be her husband, Doron Re'em, 

a career

 IDF officer. Hours earlier, he had called from his base in the center of the country to say he'd be sleeping there, rather than making the hour-and-a-half drive home to Sde Avraham, a small moshav located just a few kilometers from the tri-regional border between Israel, Egypt and the Gaza Strip. There was nothing out of the ordinary about that – Doron regularly stayed on base once a week, and it was a routine that the family was well adjusted to.

But she quickly realized that it wasn't her husband creeping towards her bedroom. It wasn't like Doron to surprise her after saying he wouldn't be home, especially at 3:40 am. Even more telling, the rhythm of the footsteps just didn't sound like her husband. Frozen with fear, the mother of four listened as the intruder make his way across the house, push open her bedroom door and flip on the light. At the door stood an Arab man in his 20s, holding a sawed off steel pipe.

"What do you want?” Mitzafaon asked the man, but she saw he did not understand Hebrew. In Arabic, he told her to get out of bed (the Hebrew and Arabic commands for “get up” are similar enough to understand). She protested that she wasn't dressed, but she quickly realized she had no choice. She got out of bed and complied with the man's demand to cover up her lower half.

He pushed her onto the bed, climbed on top of her, dropped the steel pipe onto the 

floor

 and brandished a previously-concealed knife.

Without thinking, she threw an arm to block his attempt to slash her throat, deflecting the knife away from her esophagus. The blade sliced her cheek and shoulder but the wounds were not life threatening. As the knife penetrated her shoulder, Mitzafon used the release of physical pain to dig deep inside her soul to locate a primal burst of energy to shove the man off of her and to get back to her feet.

"For the life of me, I cannot understand why he started talking to me when he pushed open the bedroom door, but it allowed me to stall for time,” Mitzafon told Aish.com when recalling the attack. “My two younger 

kids

 had crawled into bed with me earlier in the night, as they often do when Doron doesn't come home. So I think the critical element here is that the terrorist got flustered because he didn't encounter what he expected. When he flipped on the light in our room, he expected to see a sleeping couple, not a wide-awake single woman with two kids in bed with her. Then, when he told me to cover up my lower half – apparently, he had no qualms killing me, but if he’d see a woman in her underwear he’d be damned to hell – it gave me even more time to size him up, and to recall a lesson I'd learned in my ninjitzu training years ago: fight, flight or freeze. I decided to fight, and he panicked.

“In hindsight, I don't even want to think what would have happened if he would have attacked me straight away when I was still a bit blurry.”

Dripping with blood and having shoved the would-be killer off the bed, Mitzafon rolled off the bed and grabbed the steel pipe off the floor. The terrorist escaped into the en suite bathroom a few meters away; Yael closed the bathroom door, grabbed the by now wide-awake children and physically threw them out of her bedroom and into the adjacent bedroom where her eight-year-old daughter had somehow remained asleep.

She closed the door to her bedroom, ran across the single-story house to grab the cordless phone to call her husband and the community security officers, and began ringing an enormous ranch-style bell to alert the neighbors. Then, she returned to her bedroom to continue to fight the Arab intruder who by now must have realized that he not actually locked in the bathroom.

"Look, I really don't want to come away from all this looking like a hero,” Mitzafon told Aish.com. “I can't really say that I used the techniques I learned in martial arts. More than anything, I was home alone, with four kids, and I managed to keep a clear enough head to make a decision not to let this guy do another mass family slaughter if there was anything I could do about it. I was also lucky that I happen to be physically strong.

“I think the other factor that worked in my favor was that the whole event took place just three days after the ceasefire went into effect following Operation Pillar of Defense. I think that's why my two-year-old son, Ben, had been having trouble sleeping. Our sleep had been interrupted by rocket fire from Gaza for many nights over the previous month. So the attacker picked the wrong time to sneak up on me – he caught me at a time when I sort of had my guard up anyway.”

By 3:47 the attack was over. After Mitzafon had freed herself from the terrorist's grasp and gone to call for help, the assailant had escaped out the bathroom window. Looking back, Mitzafon says she does not remember actually speaking to her next-door neighbor, Tomer, the moshav's director of security, but by the time he arrived the house was quiet. Together with a third neighbor, they entered the bedroom and the bathroom to discover that the terrorist had pried open the bathroom window and fled. Within 15 minutes, IDF officers had arrived, and Bedouin trackers had set out to follow the footsteps leading from the scene of the crime. An hour later, word arrived that the terrorist had been killed outside Moshav Dekel, several kilometers from Sde Avraham.

Pioneering spirit

In many ways, Sde Avraham is a far cry from Herut, the mid-sized moshav near the coastal city of Netanya where the Mitzafon-Re'em's moved five years ago. At the time, the couple knew it would be hard for them to buy a home in the center of the country, and that Yael certainly wouldn't be able to realize her dream of owning and operating a horse riding stable. Sitting in her spacious 

kitchen

 with light streaming through the door where her attacker entered the house, Mitzafon says the incident 

has

 not changed her feeling that the moshav in Israel's southwestern corner is the ideal place for her and her family.

"What happened to me was terrible,” she says with a wan smile, “but you've got to look at the overall lifestyle here: It's the only terror attack here in the 30-year history of the moshav. Even more, you could not imagine safer, more secure for my kids to grow up in: I know that my neighbors are looking out for me, as I do for them. I don't worry if my kids disappear for a few hours on a Shabbat afternoon. Those are the elements of life that make us feel safe and secure. I'm certainly not making light of the attack, but the unfortunate truth of the matter is that people's homes get broken into all the time, in Tel Aviv, Jerusalem and everywhere else. That's what happened here, and luckily I was able to defend myself and my family.”

Following the attack, life returned to normal. For most of the family, the trauma of November 26 quickly receded. Doron has only recently resumed spending one night a week on base, and it took their four-year-old daughter who witnessed the attack two months before she would agree to be in any room in the house alone. Yael continues to maintain a stable with six horses, where she teaches riding lessons, and the girls enjoy the freedom that comes along with growing up on a moshav.

“I've made sure my girls understand that we live in a pretty terrific place, with a terrific community support network,” Yael Mitzafon says. “I wouldn't trade it for any place else.”

Purim Animated

AISH: Racing Home: A Hanukkah Surprise

AISH: The Iranian Cloud: Celebrating Sukkot on the brink of a nuclear Iran. by Rabbi Shraga Simmons

As I look up to the sky from my home in central Israel, I take careful notice of the clouds. Not just because I’m living outdoors during the week of Sukkot and want to gauge the weather. But because I’m thinking of something far more existential: the Mushroom Cloud.

Iran is in a race for nuclear weapons. Enriched uranium from thousands of centrifuges has been moved into underground bunkers at Fordow. Iran’s Shahab-3 missile, with a range of 1,200 miles, has been successfully tested. Iranian teams are working to assemble the component parts of a nuclear bomb: trigger devices, missile casings, and delivery systems. This is no “peaceful electricity project.”

Iran’s primary target is Israel. Whether it’s Mahmoud Ahmadinejad’s repeated threat to “wipe Israel off the map,” or the Supreme Ayatollah calling Israel “a cancerous tumor which must be removed,” or Iran’s top military commander Hassan Firouzabadi projecting “the full annihilation of the Zionist regime,” 6 million Jews in Israel are clearly under mortal threat. Just last week, Ahmadinejad reiterated these genocidal intentions in the “hallowed halls” of the UN.

The pressure here is enormous. Eighty percent of Israel’s population resides in the center of the country, an area the size of suburban Chicago. This could all be destroyed with one bomb.

None of us can truly imagine the horror of what would be unleashed. Nuclear bombs today are a thousand times more powerful than the ones dropped over Japan. And for Jews who have already suffered one recent Holocaust, this is no mere rhetoric.

The warning of Eli Weisel rings in my head: “We have learned to take the enemy’s words of hate seriously.”

Illusion of Security

Whenever I speak to friends in the States, they ask: “Are you afraid?”

My answer: Concerned – yes. Afraid – no.

Which is not to say that things here are all doom and gloom. A new survey by the Israel Democracy Institute shows that more than three-quarters of Israelis are optimistic about their country’s future. Still, I updated my family's gas masks and have stocked up on canned goods and bottled water. When I mention it to my friends, most agree it’s a good idea (and frankly, I think those who don’t are in denial).

But no, I’m not afraid of the Iranian Mushroom Cloud. Because I’m tapped into a far more potent Force: the Clouds of Glory, the Ananay haKavod. During the Israelites' 40-year sojourn in the desert, the Manna provided food, the Well provided water, and the Clouds offered 24/7 protection from the elements and enemies – a vital benefit for Jews camping out in flimsy sukkah-huts.

Back then, the miracle of God’s protection was open and revealed.

This miracle is not forgotten. Every year on the holiday of Sukkot, we venture outside the comfort of our homes and dwell in our own flimsy backyard hut. This is not mere theoretics or symbolic lip-service. For seven days, we treat the sukkah as our full-fledged dwelling: eating, studying, entertaining and even sleeping in the sukkah. In doing so, we return to that miraculous state of protection which nurtured the Jewish nation during its vital period of infancy.

Yet there is one crucial difference: Back then, the miracle of God’s protection was open and revealed.

Today, we have to work much harder to attain what the kabbalists term, Tzila d’Hemnusa – the “Shelter of Faith.”

This is not an easy task. In the old days, people were much more in tune with the natural spiritual rhythms. Harvest season and reliance on rain instilled gratitude for the Creator of all life. Roaming bandits and violent kings gave an appreciation for the passing of every peaceful day.

Today it is much harder to click in. Food is plentiful year-round and nobody needs to look Heavenward to see what the clouds foretell. News, shopping and friends are all one click away, enjoyed while sitting in a climate-controlled home with steel-reinforced roof and security gate out front – all protected by the institutions of democracy.

This illusion of security is what Rebbetzin Tziporah Heller terms "the most damaging illusion that blocks our inner eye from seeing God's presence."

This is precisely what the sukkah comes to correct. We leave our bricks-and-mortar homes in order to experience vulnerability, to train ourselves to find another, more permanent and dependable source of security. It is what Rabbi Akiva Tatz calls "an exercise in ego negation," working to build faith in the spiritual Source and not in the material domain of man's control.

To this end, we give ourselves over to total immersion – enveloped by the sukkah’s walls, mindful of the Almighty’s cradling arms.

Miraculous Force

Nowehere is this message more crucial than in Israel. Over the past 70 years, Israel has numerous times appeared on the brink of annihilation, with the Rabbinate distributing supplies of burial shrouds throughout the country and preparing to convert public parks into mass gravesites. Yet when all seems hopeless, that same miraculous Force always seems to intervene:

• In 1942, Nazi forces led by Rommel, en route to slaughter all the Jews in Israel, were stopped at El-Alamein in Egypt. A massive sandstorm mucked up Rommel's tanks and led his troops blindly into enemy defenses.
• In 1948, with no planes and only three tanks, the rag-tag Israeli militia staved off attempted annihilation by seven invading Arab armies.
• In 1967, again on the verge of annihilation by the three-front aggression of Egypt, Syria and Jordan, Israel scored a lightning-swift victory in the Six Day War – returning historic Jerusalem to Jewish hands.
• In the 1973 Yom Kippur War, when Egypt and Syria broke through Israeli defenses and threatened to overrun the population centers, U.S. President Richard Nixon – embroiled in the Watergate scandal and thus with nothing to lose politically – quickly ordered the largest resupply effort in history, airlifting to Israel tons of ammunition, tanks and aircraft.
• During the 1991 Gulf War, when Saddam Hussein’s Scud missiles scored direct hits on Israeli apartment buildings, there was nearly no loss of life.

We acknowledge the tireless efforts of Israeli diplomats and IDF soldiers to protect our borders and promote our case. Our physical response is, of course, equally necessary. But we also recognize that redemption from the vise grip of Iran is ultimately not dependent on political strategy or military might. As David Ben Gurion, Israeli’s founding father and by no measure an observant Jew, famously said: “In Israel, in order to be a realist you must believe in miracles.”

The Torah says that for the Jews in Egypt, it wasn't until "We cried out to God, that He heard our voice and saw our affliction" (Deut. 26:6-9). We had to hit rock-bottom, to see there was no other option but to turn to God. At that moment, redemption was under way.

That is the purpose of Sukkot – to reach the point where we recognize that the Almighty is our only option. It is our personal mission and our national imperative.

Taking Action

Yet this does not mean we are to rely on miracles.

God put us into a world of action, where we are to make an effort to affect positive change. Not because He needs it, but because we need to create a change within us and around us. This is the idea of world repairs – tikkun olam– the bedrock principle of Judaism.

So what can we do? It is surely impractical to parachute into Iran and perform covert acts of sabotage. But there is much that we can do. We can lobby representatives in Congress, write op-ed pieces for local newspapers, and work to fight anti-Israel bias. For example, the folks at Hasbara Fellowships mobilized American college students to protest Ahmadinejad’s appearance last week at the United Nations (#UNwelcome). If you have more ideas, share them in the comments section below and let’s get a discussion going.

We are expected to make the effort, yet the results are totally in God’s hands.

On the other hand, we must be totally clear that our efforts do not make or break the final outcome. In the words of the Talmud (Avot 2:21): “It is not up to you to complete the task, but neither are you exempt from trying.” Thus the classic Jewish anomaly: We are expected to make the effort, yet the results are totally in God’s hands.

That is the path we are headed down today. I am concerned that we are not waking up to the threat. A Hitler-wannabe visits New York, makes his intentions plain, on Yom Kippur no less, and where are the protests? Where is the outrage? If this isn’t a wake-up call, what is?

The issue is our very existence. Israel is a tiny country, surrounded by a sea of 250 million Arabs, possessing 640 times greater land mass with great oil reserves. Muslim fundamentalists are calling for jihad – a holy war to forcibly remove the infidels from the land.

Indeed, Zechariah chapter 14 speaks of the fateful War of Gog and Magog, when the entire world will descend upon Jerusalem and try to expel the Jews. Rabbi Moshe Cordovero, a 16th century kabbalist, wrote:

All the nations will unite together against Jerusalem, for they shall make a peace treaty among themselves to turn against Israel and annihilate her, because Israel will have established a sovereign state for themselves. It will be "a time of crisis for Jacob [Israel]," but they shall not be broken, rather, "they shall be saved from it."

Israel is merely the first target, not the only one. The virulent Iranian strain ofTwelver Islam seeks nothing less than a global revolution dictated by full Sharia law.

Yet I believe there is no need to fear. To where shall we run?

Mysterious Foundation

We’ve just completed the High Holidays, the annual opportunity to gain clarity on what we are living for, what is our plan for getting there, and how to best transform ourselves in order to fulfill that dream.

If we haven’t woken up yet, there is still time. As is well-known, our fate for the coming year is written on Rosh Hashanah and sealed on Yom Kippur. What is less well-known is that the document is not “delivered,” so to speak, until the seventh day of Sukkot – Hoshana Rabba – which is the final sealing of judgment that began on Rosh Hashanah.

What is the answer? While we must make reasonable efforts in the area of Homeland Security, that’s not enough anymore. As Yonason Goldson wrote onthese pages, we cannot imagine the design and the reach of evil. We can make our best effort, ensconce ourselves in thick walls, but we will never be completely safe. The world is too unpredictable an arena, the mind of the wicked too dark a cavern.

Professor Nicholai Berdysev, writing in Moscow in 1935, described the apparent key to Jewish survival:

“[Jewish] destiny is too imbued with the "metaphysical" to be explained either in material or positive historical terms... The survival of the Jews, their resistance to destruction, their endurance under absolutely peculiar conditions and the fateful role played by them in history; all these point to the particular and mysterious foundations of their destiny.”

Today, that “mysterious foundation of Jewish destiny” is more crucial than ever, and the mitzvah of sukkah is more relevant than ever before. The Midrash says that following the Clouds of Glory is a "mitzvah for all generations." Every single Jew, both collectively and individually, has a Cloud that emerges to guide him.

Yet we need to search for our Cloud. The very nature of a cloud is ethereal, beyond our grasp, beyond our understanding. So too, the Almighty intentionally does not reveal Himself too clearly, so that we can gain the merit of seeking Him and choosing. It may not always be easy to find, but it definitely does exist.

As we look up at the flimsy thatched roof, the vast expanse of stars offer a glimpse of the infinite power of God. And as the winds of autumn blow through our sukkah, we may shiver with cold but never with fear.

AISH: What Makes Rosh Hashanah Beautiful

The Heart of the Jewish People

Passover Rhapsody - A Jewish Rock Opera

We've Gotta Live Together

Sometimes I'm right and I can be wrong
My own beliefs are in my song
A butcher, a banker, a drummer and then
We're all family whatever group you're in
I am everyday people, yeah yeah
There is a blue one who can't accept the green one
For living with a fat one trying to be a skinny one
And different folks with different cloaks
And so on and so on and scooby dooby doo-bee
Oh sha sha - we got to live together
I am no better and neither are you
We are the same, we're all Jews
You love me you hate me you know me and then
You can't figure out the bag I'm in
I am everyday people, yeah yeah
There is a long hair that doesn't like the short hair
For bein' such a rich one that will not help the poor one
And different folks with different cloaks
And so on and so on and scooby dooby doo-bee
Oh sha sha-we got to live together

Chanukah Jewish Rock of Ages - Official Hanukkah Video

Rosh Hashanah Rock Anthem

Synagogue, Rabbi's talk, going on for a while, can you check the clock, huh
Cantor's opera, lost my spot, do you know the place, choir in the slot
Wine we drink, with family now, good deeds you do, good for your soul
Fish head, ram's horn, shofar blow, give some money, appeal for dough

Yo, I'm returnin' to the fold can you explain mo'
Got this desire to know Torah scroll, say hello
Our prayers rock, yeah, we're the Jews and we question
Got the pride, just cant stop, our lives are changin'
Rosh Hashanah's in the house tonight

All the world is passing through the light
Let's all get written in the book of Life
Shana Tova -- It's High Holiday time

Taking stock is what we do tonight
Shana Tova -- it's High Holiday time
Let's all get written in the book of Life
Blow the shofar and -- Shuckle!

Three times a day I'm shucklin'
shucklin', shucklin'

Shofar blast, all across the world we will do this task
Apples and honey, feelin' glad -- now stop, never get mad

Fill the Kiddush cup, my friends around
Books are opened up, the challah's round
All our history, we see it now
Now please hear our plea, we're prayin' now

Stand up, sit down, pass the prayer books around
Stand up, sit down, pass the prayer books around
Stand up, sit down, pass the prayer books around
Pass the prayer books around, pass the prayer books around

Rosh Hashanah's in the house tonight
All the world is passing through the light
Let's all get written in the book of Life
Shana Tova -- it's High Holiday time

Taking stock is what we do tonight
Shana Tova -- it's High Holiday time
Let's all get written in the book of Life
Blow the shofar and -- Shuckle!

Everyday I'm shucklin'

Visit Street Art Productions at http://www.s-a-p.co.il/

Happy New Year from Aish.com.

All for One Tisha B'av and the secret of Jewish unity

AISH: Why They Lie About the IDF by Doron Kornbluth

Israel’s superior moral strength is the very target of criticism against it.

Have you ever wondered how the Jews’ enemies get the gall to say such blatant lies?
They claim that the Jews kill Christian children in order to eat their blood in our Passover matzahs.
Aside from the obvious prohibition of murder, Jews of all people don't eat blood! The Torah (Leviticus 7:26) issues a stern warning against consuming blood, and we even check our eggs to make sure they are free of any speck of blood.
Our enemies claimed that we caused the German defeat in WWI and had stabbed Germany in the back.
Yet the Allies in WWI beat the Germans hands down, and Jewish Germans fought for their country at higher rates (and with more medals) than their population warranted.
Our enemies claim that Israeli soldiers murder innocent Palestinians on a regular basis.
In truth, IDF soldiers regularly endanger themselves in order to avoid civilian casualties. If Israel wasn't so concerned about civilian deaths, it could have stopped terror in its tracks long ago – and made Israel much safer for its citizens.
Attacking the Strength
Why do our enemies make such ridiculous claims?
Chidushei HaRim, the first Rebbe of Ger, helps explain.
Imagine the biblical scene. The evil Korach leads a rebellion against Moses, and wants to drum up support by criticizing God's chosen leader. Korach's complaint is that Moses is “raising himself over the community of God” (Numbers 16:3) – in other words, being arrogant and power-hungry.
The only problem with this claim is that just a few chapters before, in Numbers 12:3, God Himself had testified that Moshe was the “most humble person” who ever lived. The Jews at the time were certainly aware of this sterling quality.
So why did Korach say something that was so obviously untrue?
The answer is both profound and relevant.
When someone wants to fight you, they will attack your greatest moral strength – and deny it.
Korach knew that Moshe was exceedingly humble – and that is exactly why he attacked Moses as being arrogant. Why? Because if Moses' humility went unchallenged, no one would ever dare challenge him.
If anti-Semites throughout history would have acknowledged that the Jews are peace-loving, they never could have whipped up the masses to rampage, steal, rape and pillage.
If the Nazis had admitted that their Jewish citizens had contributed magnificently to – and died bravely for – Germany, they never could have successfully cast the Jews as the scapegoat for all of Germany's ills.

Abuse in Egypt

The same logic applies to the IDF.
We've seen it time and time again. Arab terrorists regularly attack Jewish civilians. After endless patience, warnings and pressure, in the end the IDF is sent in to stop the attacks. It drops leaflets, phones private houses, and holds its fire as much as possible in order to enable civilians to leave the area or to hunker down and avoid getting hurt.
The Hamas and Hezbollah gangs use civilians as human shields – creating civilian deaths – though only a fraction of what would have occurred anywhere else in the world. And yet the IDF is regularly attacked for being cruel, murderous, and insensitive to the lives of Arabs.
Now we know why they make these ridiculous claims.
Israel's enemies want to destroy her. They cannot admit the truth that the IDF is, by far, the most moral fighting force in the world. If they admitted this – or let this obvious reality go unchallenged – who would believe their other anti-Israel rhetoric?
The Torah commands us: Treat others well, because you suffered abuse under Pharaoh in Egypt. Jews, who have suffered more persecution than any other people in human history, are the most cautious about hurting others.
And that is why our enemies attack this very point. They know that because Jews are so careful, Jews are hyper-sensitive to any criticism on these issues.
It is the height of moral absurdity to use Israel’s moral strength against it. Yet our enemies do so, denying Israel's moral superiority, as a strategy to defeat it.

AISH: Israel: Where We Belong by Shira Smiles Creating our connection to the land of Israel.

	http://www.aish.com/h/iid/Israel_Where_We_Belong.html

When we talk about Yom Ha'Atzmaut, Israel’s Independence Day, the question we need to ask ourselves is where we are in our relationship to the land of Israel. It’s a day we can celebrate in various ways, but it behooves us to make it a day of introspection.
We all know and believe that the mashiach can come at any time and is just around the corner, but how do we react to that? The Talmud (Shabbat 31a) writes that on the Day of Judgment, we will all be asked if we longed for the salvation. The Aderet v’Haemunah explains that this question means to ask if we put longing for the salvation as the single focus of our lives, and how we applied our individual lives to achieving this national goal. Are we only caught up in our individual lives and our development, albeit our spiritual development, or are we able to focus on a cosmic vision of our nation as a whole? We must ask ourselves if we are trying to move history forward and bring the conclusion of the exile. If we are honest with ourselves, we know that this question is something in which most of us fall very short. We all believe in the coming of themashiach, but do we really believe?
The question is, where are we in terms of our connection to the land of Israel? How close are we in our desire to learn, to live and to settle in the land of Israel that will ultimately be the dwelling place in the coming ofmashiach? Rav Moshe Wolfson writes that the centrality of the land of Israel is clear from the beginning of time, as our Sages teach us that the world was created from the land of Israel and the rest of the world spread out from there. In addition, Adam, the first of humanity, was created from the earth of the land of Israel. We have a magnetic pull towards the land.
While this reflects a general human tendency towards Israel, the Jewish people’s connection goes further. The first command given to the first Jew was the commandment to Abraham “lech lecha,” go to the land of Israel. Furthermore, all the commandments and promises that were given to our Forefathers are related to the land of Israel because that is the place where Torah can be upheld in its fullest sense. Do we really feel this sense of connection?

And of Zion it shall be said “Man and man was born in her and [God] will establish her. R' Maiysha, the grandson of R' Yehoshua ben Levi, says, both those born there and those who long to see her. (Babylonian Talmud, Ketuvot, 75a)

During the British rule of Palestine, there was a quota of how many Jews could come from each nation into Israel. There was a group of Jews from Romania who wanted to emigrate to Israel but the quota from Romania had already been filled. They asked Rav Chaim Sonnenfeld if they could lie and create papers that said they were from Czechoslovakia, whose quota had not yet been filled, and he said they could not, because it would be dishonest. They then asked if they could create papers to say that they were from Palestine, and he responded that it was permitted, and it wasn’t dishonest, based on this Talmud that anyone who desires to see Israel is considered to have been born there. Every Jew is intrinsically connected to the land of Israel, even without having ever set foot there.
Rav Aaron Soloveitchik, in his book “Logic of the Heart, Logic of the Mind” in an essay called “The State of Israel, a Torah Perspective,” points out that at the end of the chapter in Psalms, quoted in the Talmud, King David writes that both the singers and the dancers have their thoughts there [in Israel]. Rav Soloveitchik interprets this to mean that the singers refer to religious Jews who know the words to sing, and the dancers refer to those that can only dance and don’t know the words to sing, namely non-religious Jews, and King David writes that both have their close connection to the land of Israel. Every Jew feels that Israel is our homeland, and that is where we belong.

And the daughters of Reu'el (Yitro) came to their father and he asked them, "Why are you back so quickly today?" And the said, "An Egyptian man (Moses) saved us from the shepherds." Exodus, 2:18-19
(Joseph said to the wine steward) Please do this kindess for me and remember me to Pharaoh to take me out of this house. For I was stolen from the land of the Hebrews. Genesis, 40:14-15

The Midrash comments that one who refers to himself as being from Israel will merit being buried in Israel, and one who does not refer to himself in that way will not. Joseph connected himself to the land and therefore his bones were carried for 40 years in the desert and buried in the land. Moses identified himself as an Egyptian, and therefore did not merit to be buried in Israel. Rabbi Zalman Sorotzkin, in his Oznayim Latorah, questions this Midrash, Joseph was born in the land of Israel, so of course he said he was from there, whereas Moses was born in Egypt, so why would he say he was from Israel?
He answers that from the moment God promised us that we were going to inherit the land of Israel, it belonged to us, no matter where we were. When you ask any Jewish person what land he or she is from, the answer must be from the land of Israel, irrelevant of whether the person ever even stepped foot in Israel or not. It’s not just a question of whether you are an American Jew or a Jewish American, but rather we need to recognize that our core is intrinsically connected to the land of Israel. We may temporarily be physically from somewhere else, but our roots are in that place where we desire to come to and be.
The Torah in Parshas Re’eh (11:12) describes the land of Israel as a place that is constantly under God’s scrutiny. It’s the difference between a parent who only desires to speak to a child once a year to one who desires to speak to his or her child every day, a few times a day. The Siftei Chaim writes that the Divine providence is much stronger in Israel, because of this deep closeness He has with us there. It’s a connection of the love and closeness between the Jewish people and the land of Israel.
The Nesivos Shalom writes that just as in time, the Shabbos gives light and meaning to the whole week, the land of Israel animates the rest of the world. Israel is the land where we can have prophesy and where we can feel and tap into the feeling of closeness and specialness to Hashem.
Rav Yaakov Emden, in his siddur Beit Elokim, writes that it’s not enough just to face Jerusalem in prayer and go through lip service of the centrality of Jerusalem, but rather we have to have the intention to bring it to the world of actuality. It behooves every Jew to declare in their heart to make aliyah to Israel. When we think about a retirement home, it shouldn’t be a condo in Florida but rather an apartment in Israel. It can’t just be a hope, but rather it demands action.
Rav Yosef Dov Soloveitchik, in his Kol Dodi Dofek, writes that when the Torah (Lev. 26:33) says that God will bring the land into desolation, our Sages interpret this as a good thing, because our enemies will not find any gratification in the land since it will be desolate of all its inhabitants. We know that throughout history, none of the nations that conquered the land of Israel were able to settle the land, as the agriculture refused to cooperate with them. Had there been an actual sustained presence there, strangers would have consumed its goodness and food and the rights and claims of the Jewish people would have been nullified. Therefore, the land of Israel did not betray its people. She remained faithful to them and awaited her redeemer. When the possibility came to return to the land that withheld its treasure from strangers and guarded them for us, how could the Jews not fulfill the commandment and run with joy and enthusiasm to build and settle there?
This Yom Ha'Atzmaut, we must come in contact with the land, hear its song, and remember that the land of Israel has been waiting for us. We need to see and understand what a blessing Israel is for us. The challenge from a distance is to open ourselves up beyond falafel, blue and white, and a dollar commitment. We must connect to Israel emotionally and spiritually, so that while we may be living elsewhere, we feel the reality that our true home is only in Israel and that we are truly its citizens. By doing so, we will truly have a handle on longing for the redemption which should come speedily in our days.
This essay was transcribed by Deena Klein and appears on Yeshiva University's website.