In a recent lecture, Rabbi Hayyim Angel alluded to a remarkable passage in the Talmud (Sotah 13b), which seems to cast some criticism on Moses. When Korah and his associates arose against Moses, they argued that "all the congregation is holy, and why do you lord over the congregation of the Lord?" Although their motives were dubious, there was some justice in their claim. They purported to want a more democratic system that did not concentrate all power in the hands of Moses and Aaron. In rebuffing the critics, Moses said: rav lahem b'nai Levi, i.e. you have enough, children of Levi.

Instead of engaging the critics in conversation, Moses cut them off: Enough!

"And Moses spoke before God saying: behold, the children of Israel did not listen to me; how then will Pharaoh listen to me..."

Moses brought the children of Israel a tremendous message: God was ready to end their slavery in Egypt; God would bring them to the Promised Land, a land flowing with milk and honey. After generations of harsh servitude, the Israelites would now become free.

"I am not worthy of all the mercies and all the truth which You have shown unto Your servant." (Bereishith 32:11)

Jacob had a remarkable curriculum vitae. He was the patriarch of a large family. He possessed an impressive amount of livestock and was quite wealthy. By external standards of success, Jacob had achieved a lot during his years with Lavan.

With the passing of Yitzhak Navon on November 7, 2015, we’ve come to an end of an era. Born in Jerusalem on April 9, 1921, he was a proud and vocal scion of Sephardic culture and tradition. His family had lived in Jerusalem since the 17th century, descendants of the Jews exiled from Spain in 1492. He was part of the old Sephardic yishuv that had been dwelling in the land of Israel for centuries. Few of these Sephardic veterans are still alive, and none has had a larger impact than Yitzhak Navon.

The election season is filled with slogans, sound bites, campaign posturing. Candidates employ experts who can best market them. The candidates are instructed on what to say and what not to say; the tone of voice they should use; the type of clothes and makeup they should wear. The goal is to create an electable image. News items are subject to p.r. spins; polls are used as signs of gained or lost momentum and are interpreted by candidates in a way that most favors themselves.

Researchers at the Albert Einstein College of Medicine and the Ferkauf Graduate School of Psychology of Yeshiva University conducted extensive studies on longevity. In one of these studies, they focused on 243 Ashkenazic Jews (average age 97.6 years, 75% women) to determine whether there is a genetic basis to living long lives. Their findings were reported in an article published online May 21, 2012, in the journal “Aging.”

God placed Adam and Eve in the Garden of Eden and gave them the following instruction: “Of every tree of the garden you may freely eat; but of the tree of the knowledge of good and evil you shall not eat of it; for in the day that you eat of it you shall surely die” (Bereishith 2:16-17). It did not take long, though, for Adam and Eve to eat of this forbidden fruit, having been tempted by the serpent to do so.

But they did not die upon eating the fruit of the tree of knowledge of good and evil.

“And the sister of Lotan was Timna” (Bereishith 36:22).

This seemingly irrelevant piece of genealogy has an important underlying message according to the Midrash. Timna had wanted to convert--to become part of the people of Abraham, Isaac and Israel. Yet, our forefathers did not accept her into the fold. The rejected Timna then became the concubine of Elifaz, son of Esau, and gave birth to a son: Amalek! The arch-enemy of the people of Israel was the child of a rejected convert! Had Timna been accepted into the Israelite nation, there would have been no Amalek.

This ancient lesson has continuing meaning in our days, when the conversion crisis in the Orthodox world is a burning issue. The following is drawn from an article I wrote, published in Hadassah Magazine, November 2008.

(This is the first sermon I delivered from the pulpit of Congregation Shearith Israel, Simhat Torah 1969. Forty-five years have passed since that first sermon, and yet the ideas within it continue to ring true.)

We have spent many months reading about the life of Moses. Today, in one of the most dramatic episodes of the Torah, we read about his death—a very agonizing scene. Moses, the great leader, teacher, and prophet, climbs to the summit of Mount Nebo and looks out over the horizon at the Promised Land. As he stands silent and alone, God tells him: “You are beholding the land that I have promised to Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob saying, ‘I shall give it to your descendants.’ See it with your eyes. You shall not cross into the land.”