Rabbi's weekly Blog - Chabad of Basel

It feels strange to experience all of this from afar

Friday, June 20, 2025 - 1:23 AM

Some thoughts—not necessarily connected:

This is my third decade living outside the Holy Land. That’s a long time.

It means that the last time I clearly remember experiencing a siren and shelter was in the winter of 1991, when Saddam Hussein showered us with Scud missiles. Even then, it was in a sealed room, not a bomb shelter.

It feels strange to experience all of this from afar.

On the one hand, we are connected to the Land by virtue of being Jews in general and Israeli citizens in particular. On the other hand, we live in peace and quiet.

On the one hand, we’re part of the family WhatsApp group where alerts and sirens are reported, with photos from safe rooms and shelters taken by our relatives. On the other hand, we often see these messages only in the morning, after a peaceful, uninterrupted night—not from a plastic chair in a shelter or even a mattress in a safe room, but from the comfort of a cozy bed at home.

On the one hand, I must admit—it’s much more comfortable to witness all this from Basel. On the other hand, my wife, at least, really misses being in Israel right now—not just being in Israel, but that sense of togetherness that happens in the shelters.

Many wars have passed over the Holy Land since we moved to Switzerland. This current one is the most “awe-some” of them all. Not in the fearful or terrifying sense of the word, but in its deeper, sacred sense—like in “Days of Awe,” or the “great, mighty, and awesome God.”

When I say "the current one," I mean the war that began on Simchat Torah 5784, and is now reaching its peak with Israel’s massive offensive against Ayatollah-led Iran.

It’s not just because Israel’s security situation is currently infinitely better than it was when I was a teenager. Back then, we were surrounded by seven heavily armed Arab armies bent on wiping us into the sea, Heaven forbid. Today, thank God, the only serious military around us is Egypt’s—and Jordan, for some reason, is barely counted anymore.

Back then, we feared Iraq, Iran, Syria, Lebanon—and honestly, also Arafat’s armed police and other murderers who were handed rifles. Today, thank God, most of those threats are gone or significantly weakened.

But it’s not because of all that that this war is “awe-some.” It is because of the sheer resilience and rising spirit of the Jewish People—as one lion rising against its enemies. It's about the shared destiny, the mutual support, the astounding spiritual awakening, the love, and the selfless giving for one another.

Chassidic teachings say that the Exodus from Egypt had to happen in haste - “chippazon” - and that this urgency was in the interest of everyone involved:

The Egyptians wanted the Jews gone already because they couldn’t bear the plagues any longer.

The Jews wanted to get out and be free.

And G-d Himself hurried them out—He jumped, skipped - Passach - , and rushed the redemption because He saw the Jewish people's own urgency, which in turn “awakened” Him to help and redeem them quickly.

This is how the Rebbe explained it in his discourse“Ve’kacha” 5737 (1977):

“All that happens Above is a result of what happens below. As the Maggid explains on the Mishnah ‘Know what is above you’—know that everything above comes from you. In the words of the Mishnah and the Talmud: ‘With the measure a person measures, they measure unto him.’ The same applies to chippazon - the urgency of the Shechinah (Divine Presence) depends on the urgency of Israel.”

In my own words: G-d responds according to our behavior. What happens Above, comes from you - down here.

I don’t know the ways of Heaven, but I truly believe that the way the people of Israel are treating one another - the incredible mobilization within the country, and even around the world - to help, to support wherever needed, alongside the tremendous spiritual awakening, all of this surely has an impact Above and brings about miracles and wonders of biblical proportions.

When we embrace each other - G-d joins in and embraces us, too.

To our brothers and sisters in the Holy Land -

We, in the Diaspora, salute you with awe and deep admiration for your strength and resilience.

Am Yisrael Chai!

Rabbi Zalman Wishedski

You are not what you do.

Friday, June 6, 2025 - 3:35 AM

One of the most impressive ba’alei teshuva (returnees to Judaism) in our history is the Talmudic sage, Reish Lakish.

There is, of course, Rabbi Akiva, mentioned so often for having made a huge change in his life – until age 40 he didn’t know how to read, and only then began his journey and became Rabbi Akiva. But Reish Lakish is a different story.

This was a person who grew up in a Torah-centered home, who knew about Torah and mitzvot, and yet became a highway robber; in fact, a notorious leader of highway robbers. That is, until he met Rabbi Yochanan who caused him to do teshuva, whereupon he became one of the greatest of Amora’im (Talmudic sages); the Gemara is full of his sayings.

Perhaps that is why he is the one who made one of the most meaningful and essential statements regarding the close connection between a Jew and his Creator – and maybe even more than that – a statement that redefines a human being’s essence: “Reish Lakish says, a person does not transgress unless a ruach shtut (which can be loosely translated as ‘momentary insanity’, or ‘spirit of folly’) enters him.”

When a person transgresses one of the mitzvot, chas veshalom, performing a forbidden action, naturally we tend to define him according to his deed. And not only we do so; he too defines himself according to his bad deed. But then Reish Lakish, who lived in all the worlds fully – from a chief of robbers to one of the foremost Talmudic sages – comes and says, “Stop. Your deed does not define you. You remain who you are. It’s just that a spirit of folly entered you and derailed you from the right path.”

And not only that: Reish Lakish brings proof for what he says from a passuk in this week’s parasha, parashat Naso. “Any man whose wife shall go astray”. From the fact that the Torah wrote the word tiste (“astray”) with a sin (shin) and not with a samech, Reish Lakish learned that we are talking here about a ruach shtut – also with a shin. This is a case of a woman who is suspected of not being faithful to her husband – which is not a small or light transgression; it’s a heavy transgression, a most significant wrongdoing, and it is from this pasuk that Reish Lakish learned that it is caused by a “spirit of folly”.

Perhaps Reish Lakish is teaching us that in order for us to repent and do teshuva we have to first remember not to define our essence according to a bad deed we have done. Because knowing that deep inside, in one’s essence, a Jew is still a good and pure person, hosting a holy soul – and though the actions may be dirty and bad, they are not the person himself, but something external, attached to him – grants one the hope and the power to get up and return to the source, to whom he really is, to what he really is: holy, pure and refined.

That is what Rabbi Yochanan said to him when he saw him when he was still a highway robber: “Your strength is suitable for Torah.” Instead of rebuking him, Rabbi Yochanan ignored the robber’s external aspects and said to him: I can see your essence; nothing has changed in your essence. Your essence is clean and pure, and suitable for Torah. And Reish Lakish pulled himself together and repented.

Shabbat Shalom,

Rabbi Zalman Wishedski