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We were intent on doing what our Ashkenazi forebearers, who lived in inhospitably cold climates, could not do. We were intent on doing Sukkot the way the Talmud prescribes, meaning 24/7, including spending nights there.
"Derech Hashem -- The Way of God" by Rabbi Moshe Chaim Luzzatto (Feldheim, 1997).
Quietly studying a page of the Talmud on a crowded plane, the great Orthodox teacher and thinker Rabbi Joseph B. Soloveitchik was interrupted by a passenger in the next seat.
"Pardon me. What is that you are studying?" the man asked.
Soloveitchik explained the nature of the Talmud, and that he was a professor of Talmud at Yeshiva University.
The man was incredulous. "Do you mean that people spend their entire lives thinking about religion?" he asked. "Why, I thought that all of religion could be succinctly summarized as 'Do unto others what you would have them do unto you'!"
Quietly studying a page of the Talmud on a crowded plane, the great Orthodox teacher and thinker Rabbi Joseph B. Soloveitchik was interrupted by a passenger in the next seat.
Fall was just beginning to turn the Moscow air crispy when the lot of us -- 10 high school seniors and three faculty members of Yeshiva University Los Angeles Girls' School -- trudged down the stairs of our Intourist Hotel in the late '80s, and began our walk of several miles, not to the better-known Chabad Lubavitch Synagogue or to the Moscow Choral Synagogue, but to another shul in the city's north.
"Why do you Jews cheat so much?"
Inspirational speeches are sometimes improved by leaving out the words.
I learned of the Jewish slant on conservation on my first flight to Israel in my late teens.
The decision to register converts of all denominations as Jews will not only be regretted by the Orthodox in the short run, but by Conservative and Reform Jews as well. And for Israel it may prove disastrous.
Beset by troubles, we have much to be thankful for, least of which is our miraculous survival, and our ties to each other.
Fall was just beginning to turn the Moscow air crispy when the lot of us -- 10 high school seniors and three faculty members of YULA Girls' School -- trudged down the stairs of our Intourist Hotel in the late '80s, and began our walk of several miles, not to the better-known Chabad Lubavitch Synagogue or to the Moscow Choral Synagogue, but to another shul in the city's nort
The proverbial apple may not fall far from the tree. Often, though, the question is: which tree?
You don't have to be a rocket scientist to see why the Orthodox were seriously undercounted.