31 May 2012

Why is the Torah so into hair? and Other Stories

This is a reminder to check out Rabbi Schwartz's supercalifragilisticexpialidocious parsha-based blog at http://holylandinsights.blogspot.com/ .

For a couple of years I didn't make time for his e-mails, because there are so many parsha sheets out there... but now I regret it, because these, more than any other parsha sheet, make me laugh, make me cry, make me think, answer the questions on my mind, inspire me without being treacle, and totally change my week.
Do have a look.

30 May 2012

Beyond Infinity's Threshold

(Dedicated in memory of מרדכי בן אליהו הכהן ע״ה)

Q: What is the reason that the Divine name “Sha-dai” is inscribed on the outside of a mezuzah scroll?

A: The Torah refers to G-d by a number of names. One ought to ask the more basic question: Why does G-d have so many names?

We cannot know the essence of G-d. As mere mortals, we cannot fathom His Infinity. However, we do experience the Almighty inasmuch as we are aware of His actions. The “names” of G-d function as labels for particular types of G-d’s interactions with the world

The Gaon of Vilna, in his commentary to the Book of Ruth (1:1), cites the teaching of our Sages that the name “Sha-dai” refers, in abbreviation, to “the One Who said, ‘Enough’” (“She-Amar Dai”). This name describes G-d inasmuch as He sets boundaries and limitations in the world, “laws” of nature, as it were. The Hebrew word “din,” meaning “law,” is based on the word “dai.” The laws of physics and the entire naturalistic system that guides our physical world emanate from this name.

Conversely, the four-letter Name, or Tetragrammaton, comprised of the letters “yud,” “heh,” “vav” and “heh,” which form the words “hayah” (“was”), “hoveh” (“is”), and “yihyeh” (will be), indicates G-d’s infinity and unlimited capacity, as One Who transcends even the bounds of eternity. G-d’s abundant will and capacity to give emanates from this name. This name appears within the sections of text inscribed on the inside of the mezuzah scroll.

Every human being has a dual capacity — that of the spirit and that of the body. One’s spiritual wealth derives from one’s relationship to G-d, through one’s fulfillment and study of the Torah. One’s physical wealth resides in one’s worldly assets and indulgences. One’s spiritual self is one’s “inner” being while one’s physical identity forms one’s “outer” being.

In elevating man above the animals, G-d’s plan calls for man to curtail his animal component, the body, and develop his G-dly component, the soul; he should limit his outer being and expand his inner being. Therefore, explains the Gaon, as a sign to mankind to follow this Divine directive, G-d commands that we install the mezuzah upon our doorways and gateways, the threshold between inside and outside. The inside of the mezuzah contains the four-letter Name, indicating our obligation to develop and expand our inner self in an unlimited fashion, forming as strong a bond to our Creator as possible. The outside of the mezuzah bears the name “Sha-dai,” reminding us to place limitations on our physical indulgences in order to elevate ourselves above the natural world. In combination, these two strategies lead to spiritual success and fulfillment of the human mission.

May we merit to internalize the message of the mezuzah’s design, crossing the threshold between outer and inner realms to realize the infinite potential within.


We ate one of the Shavuos meals with a gentleman who is full of stories of the previous generation.
It is surprising how many such gadol-quips have become common knowledge, but also how many have not. To hear a new one is like finding molten chocolate in a cookie... I have an especial weakness for them.

We were discussing approaches to the study of mussar and whether the word "inspiring" actually means anything, how some lectures are calculated to uplift whereas others are deliberately grounded in the practical - "If you daven a better maariv after one of my shmuesen [concentrate better during the evening meditative prayers following one of my lectures]," said Rav Chatzkel, "you didn't understand it." Inspiration, a temporary boost, a feeling of holiness, was not the point.

Our friend speculated that others, e.g. Rav Shalom Schwadron, might characterize their own lectures differently. (I remember the day I gobbled up an entire book of Rav Schwadron's stories in one sitting, and how different the world looked afterward.) Inspiration, or its effects, can last.

Then our friend related the following exchange between two of my favorite people... ooh, chocolate!

Rav Yerucham (Rav Chatzkel's predecessor) asked the Alter of Novhardok why the students of Novhardok so often seemed depressed, and--

Wait a minute, I said. Novhardok strikes me as the happiest of the three famous schools of mussar. In Slabodka, they taught the greatness of man: man is great! When you see the greatness of man, you see how much you have to live up to - which can be daunting and depressing if you don't know how to take it. But in Novhardok, they focused on the lowliness of man, and taught that nothing in the world matters but what you do with it: the world is nothing! That's incredibly freeing! (I love Novhardok!) How could they possibly get depressed in Novhardok?

But our friend didn't hear me, and this is how the story goes.

Rav Yerucham asked the Alter of Novhardok why the students of Novhardok so often seemed depressed.

"If you don't climb onto the roof," said the Alter, "you cannot fall to the ground."
Rav Yerucham, said our friend, relished the answer, so different from his own, grounded approach. 'We don't climb up to the roof!'

29 May 2012

Ants for the antless

One of the character traits prized in Judaism is zerizus, which translates as... what, exactly?
Occasionally you see it translated as "alacrity".
When my friend asks her children, "Who wants to get Abba a cup of water?" her son from the Yiddish-speaking cheder exclaims "Zrizus!" as he topples off his booster seat and sprints for the kitchen, so I guess that's the definition he's been taught.

King Solomon instructs lazy people to "Go to the ant... see her ways, and become wise." (Prov. 6:6) If you watch ants (at least, the ones in my neighborhood), their most outstanding characteristic is not exactly frenzied haste. What they possess supports the translation I once heard from Rabbi Chalkowski (Rn. Bambi's husband): diligence.

Seriously. Go watch some ants.

There is a YouTube video currently making the rounds to teach diligence to the chronically antless.
I'm not going to post it here, because it really is a waste of time -it's probably a better lesson in zerizus not to watch it; but should you ever be short of ants, you can look it up.
It consists of three minutes of a slinky walking a treadmill.

Sewing Challenge No. 8: Edwardian Skirt for the 1912 Project

Welcome to our humble blog... this is part 8 of a series in which a total novice learns to sew.

The 1912 Project policy has changed: now participants can request patterns to test, instead of using whichever we've been sent.
received #0020 before this change. It's lovely, certainly much nicer than anything in the stores, but since I don't love it to pieces, I shrank it by an arbitrary 80% and made it doll-sized, out of the lining of an old suit jacket. --the jacket my husband was wearing when we went to get our marriage license, actually.
I cut it out, not in accordance with good sewing sense, but using Shel Silverstein's method of testing whether a window is open: chuck a brick at it and see what happens.
That a total beginner chucking a brick at this pattern as the lining pinned to it slithers away results in a beautifully-aligned skirt, even in miniature, says a lot in favor of the pattern.
However, I forgot the scallops.
You what?

I am still trying to decide what my approach to sewing is.
"If we're going to do it, let's do it nice," echoes the voice of Rabbi St. Helens. And indeed my instinct is to sew twenty stitches to the inch.
"If all you want from this pattern is to find out how a skirt comes together, slap it up with basting while you're waiting in line at the greengrocer's and save your attention, time, and effort for greater things," urges - I am not sure whose voice, but it won. So somewhere between the onions and the bananas, I forgot the scallops.
Not sure if I should be embarrassed about this or not, but the doll it's sized for won't mind, and it did come out pretty.
I think I'll follow all the rules of Careful Seamstering next time, just for exercise.

Click here if you are a 1912er or other wandering seamstress who wants all the fiddly details on the pattern.

Exalted Days

I think it is Rav Hutner who says that these days, the days between Shavuos and the 17th of Tammuz, are special days: the days of luchos rishonos.
 ...the days of the first tablets, which we received from Sinai.
Aye, we know the end of the story, how they had to be smashed.
But not yet.

22 May 2012

Living in the Drawing

PREFACE required to describe the Drawing, which I can't find:

During the 1930s, people who had things  -  houses, land, cars, savings, jobs, food - lost them.
During the 1940s, people endured the war.

In the 1950s, many things became available again to people who had lost or never had houses, land, cars, savings, jobs, food,  AND, thanks to wartime technological innovations and industrial capability, household appliances!

America and Western Europe went acquisitive  -  symbolized (to my way of thinking) by the "New Look" fashions with yards and yards and YARDS of fabric in long, full skirts.

Those of us who grew up in this abundance reacted against it in the 1960s and 70s.

We said –
In the future there will be no private ownership!  no waste of resources! no houses, cars, savings, jobs, or clothes particular to just one family or worse, just one person!
We will live in collectives!
We will have communal organic gardens!
We will work together, all races and creeds and sexual orientations side-by-side!
We will build our houses in hillsides using found materials!
We will raise our children in collectively-operated, innovative schools where they will learn useful work and crafts and never have to sit at a desk or even wear shoes!
We will stay healthy on work and whole food and peace of mind, but if we ever need health care, it will be free and holistic, and there will be no stigma attached to handicaps or mental illness. 
Internal combustion vehicles will be available only for emergency use  -  We will innovate a world of bicycle-like vehicles that are our transportation and our tractors. No more pollution!  No more traffic jams! 
With no religion, private property, or spouses-for-life, there will be nothing to fight over so we will eliminate war and weapons. (Famously, "Make Love Not War")
And if we ever lose track of our vision, we will take some hallucinogens and it will reappear.

I went online to see if I could find any of the millions of drawings depicting this future world seen from the 1960s.
Amazingly, the drawings seem to have been composted.
The closest I came was something much more recent -  indicating that the vision persists and the "future" is still ahead of us.

Living in the Drawing
I composed  the memoir above to get across that TODAY, 18 May 2012, here in Portland, Oregon, I was DROPPED INTO a drawing of the future as viewed from the 1960s.
It was downright eerie. 

First of all - it is an excitingly clear day, drawn by a child.
The temperature is a perfect 70 deg F with a light, cooling breeze.
The sun is shining.
Every plant and tree on the green earth is budding.
The mountains look at us with fierce beauty.

I put on my bike helmet and coasted down our neighborhood hill to downtown, then across the Hawthorne Bridge on the municipally-designated bike lane, then pedalled easily in a middle gear up into Northeast Portland again via municipally-designated bike lanes.
The bike lanes occur hard by many bicycle stores - which have handmade signs in rainbow colors and rammed-earth structures for resting and bike racks confected from found scrap metal and owners who are lean bearded guys in jeans- just like in the drawings of the 1960s.

I went to see my acupuncturist -  a mother of two who works part-time in an office she shares with other naturopathic doctors, Chinese Medicine doctors, massage therapists, and reflexologists  -  all of them women.
In the waiting room are picture books of out-of-the-way wild beauty in Oregon, hardwood toys to amuse children, and persons of intermediate genders.
Skirted men, bearded ladies, Orthodox seniors who fold up their bikes and park them under the furniture:  all this was envisioned in  the 60s.

After my treatment, I strolled past the shops featuring  toys handmade from recycled materials, vintage household goods, locally-grown produce, and cuisine made with NO meat, gluten, or dairy.

I whizzed back along the bike path, through the peaceful settlement of homeless families dwelling in shelters confected from tarps and large cardboard boxes. My skirt tracing a wake, I joined the flow of cyclists in jeans, suits, shorts; ears only or whole faces pierced or unpierced; skins and bikes alike of many colors.
We stood in lawful, harlequin array waiting for the bridge to open and close to permit a white-sailed boat to sail placidly by  -  children waving from the edge of the hull. (The marine navigation bit of the curriculum at the Free School?)

Back up the hill toiled I in my lowest gear  -  unhurried and untroubled -  enjoying the fragrance of the municipally-maintained lilac garden  -  breathing somewhat easier thanks to the ministrations of my non-allopathic healer.

21 May 2012

Tefilas HaShelah

You can say it every day, of course, but today's the day most people make a point of reciting the prayer of the Shelah Hakadosh for one's children.

The Hebrew text and English translation are here: http://artscroll.files.wordpress.com/2010/05/prayer.pdf

Most Jewish prayers are written in the plural, on behalf of the world or the entire Jewish people - Rabbi Dr. R. likes to point out that this is also true of the Shemoneh Esrei, the whispered, meditative nut of the entire liturgy - but then there is a side literature of personal requests, like this one.
I happen to especially relate to this one - he really nails everything I wanted to say.

Iyar, cont.

This is the follow-up to this post.
I think the one sentence I'd pick to summarize the month of Iyar is this:

"The way to Sinai lay, and still lies, only through the wilderness."
(Collected Writings of Rabbi Samson Raphael Hirsch, Vol. I, p.158, with the permission of Feldheim Publishers)

I'm not going to elaborate on how this plays out in the different eras of Jewish history and in our own feathery era, simply because I don't have time to do it justice.

I'll just throw another line of Rav Hirsch at you.

"When we gather together in peaceful houses of God in the early summer evening hours to count our days and weeks until the joyful day of our Torah festival, we probably reflect very little on the completely different circumstances and atmosphere under which our fathers counted these days. How often did they begin the counting and then wonder whether they would live to complete the counting at all and, if so, where they would complete it!"
(p. 163)

He's talking about the era of the Crusades.

It isn't about the persecutions; it's about
The devoted, the just, and the blameless,
The holy communities that gave up their lives for the sanctification of His Name,
Who in life were beloved by Him and devoted to Him,
And who even in death did not separate themselves from Him...
(p. 141)

20 May 2012

Sewing challenge no. 4: Tish Bekishe

A tish bekishe is like a long Victorian smoking jacket, worn to the Shabbat table by some Chasidic men. My husband (who does not identify as Chasidic) wanted one partly because a bekishe is machine-washable and a suit isn't: a bekishe is good if your toddler likes to pour soup in your lap.
As Rabbi Triebitz once said (in an entirely different context), there are no non-Chasidim in a foxhole.

Some bekishes are tailored; some aren't. I used a bathrobe pattern, Simplicity 5931, and relied on the fabric to make it look like something you could actually wear to dinner.
The pattern is good for beginners, but runs large. My husband's rav and our neighbor (thanks) graciously smuggled me their bekishes (this was a surprise) so I could study the construction.

There is some kabbalistic significance to not making such a garment all-black, but mostly I figured a man who wears a black suit and a black hat every day has enough black in his life already.
I wanted a fabric that would look black (like most other bekishes) until you turned your back on it and made it think you weren't looking. What I found in the right color is pretty stiff; next time I'll use something floppier. And a pattern that will allow for frogs (those Asian knot fastenings), because I. Love. Frogs.

I'm not sure why it looks ripply and uneven here. It looks ok in real life.

I put on a remnant of silvery leaf-like trim because every tish bekishe should look Elvish.

Thank You Note

This is a thank-you note to Ms. Tibbi Singer for her kind attention to this blog in her "Jblogs" series, for all the nice things she has been saying about it, and for describing the title of one of its posts as "Darth Vader meets Winnie-the-Pooh," which is such a fun meeting to imagine.
Love it.
Thank you.

Portland event TONIGHT

Special Guest Lecturer: Aliza Bulow

"Shavuos: Four Steps to Perfecting the World"
Sunday, May 20
7 pm @ the Kollel

Aliza Bulow is the national coordinator of Ner LeElef’s North American Women’s Program, and the Senior Educator for The Jewish Experience in Denver, Colorado. She teaches ongoing classes in Jewish philosophy, basic Judaism and textual learning skills, as well as lecturing on a broad range of topics in venues across the country and around the world. A 13th generation American born to Protestant parents in the 1960’s, her upbringing was intensely impacted by her parents’ deep commitment to the civil rights movement. After a spiritual search that began in early adolescence, Aliza converted to Judaism at the age of 16. She went to Israel shortly thereafter and lived there for four years while she studied at Michlelet Bruria and the Hebrew University, and served in the Nachal division of the Israeli Defense Forces. In 1985, while completing her BA in Hebrew and Jewish Social Studies at Hunter College, she married and moved to Long Beach, NY. Aliza has been a Jewish Educator for over twenty five years and she now mentors women who work in Jewish Adult Education and Outreach, and provides consulting for Jewish Outreach organizations across the country. Aliza works to strengthen Jews and their connections to their heritage, to their mission and to each other. More information is available on her website: ABiteOfTorah.com.


When you finish reading a really good novel, you sort of sigh and look out the window and a few hours later are still trying to re-orient into the world.
When you finish studying a textbook, you either throw it out the window or shelve it - depending on what sort of student you are.
But when you finish learning a volume of Talmud, you have a
--at the last siyyum I attended, with about 150 of your closest friends, with a sit-down meal (and 200 cream puffs), and people speak, and sing, and then everyone stands up and dances in circles, as if it were a wedding.

My favorite part of a siyyum is what you tell the text you have just finished learning:
We will return to you, and you will return to us. Our mind is on you, and your mind is on us.

The connection between the student and his or her text is so personal that the Midrash (I think - can't find it) tells a story about one of the Talmud's volumes assuming human form to attend the funeral of a man who had learnt it.

And then you start the next volume.

Addendum: check out http://www.mysiyum.com/

Encounter at Sinai

By Rabbi Rafi Mollot

13 May 2012

The Twilight Zone

I went to replace a light bulb.
"There are no light bulbs," said the clerk.
"Do you usually carry them?"
"Maybe you can find someone who still does. I doubt it. Everyone now uses these spirals instead."

I bought a spiral. I tried it. It's so efficiently small, it doesn't screw into our socket.

I feel like Rip Van Winkle. My light sockets and I went to sleep in a 60-watt age. We have awakened to find ourselves in a new and better age, an age of efficient, eco-friendly, 13-watt spirals.

How bizarre. How inspiring.

In Which I Cross Over to the Dark Side

This month, I became one of those parents.
Those square, unenlightened, irresponsible parents... the ones who outsource their children's education, even before the child is old enough to string together a complete sentence.


It happened like this:
My daughter woke up one day and I realized that she had just stopped being a baby, and turned into a proper Child.
She has always been incredibly independent but suddenly she wanted all my attention, all the time.
My neighbor, whose son was born the same day, reported the identical transformation in the same week.

This is adorable, and it would be swell except that I work from home and charge by the hour, and there is just no way to compile an honest time-sheet for work done with one hand while the other tries to prevent the Child from pouring from her sippy-cup into the keyboard dsothattyingtotyeedsultdsinthids.

I gave up. She now spends about 10 hours a week in my neighbor's living-room kindergarten.
This is a neighbor whose child-rearing I have long admired. For about seven years I have said that if I lived here and if I had a child and if I needed a kindergarten, I'd choose hers: she is warm and cheery and inspired and uplifting and nudges everything into place without ever raising her voice. And she loves my daughter. And my daughter is always excited to go, and not interested in coming home. And she gets to be with other kids.
Hrrumph, hrroomph. As I get older I keep turning into those people I said I would never be. I even have opinions on strollers.

I am still learning how to work in an empty house. But now, instead of spending the day in the house trying to get some work done, we can spend the whole afternoon in the yaarrrrrr! (the Hebrew word for the woods) without feeling guilty. Thank G-d.

I told this neighbor that she can tell my daughter "Don't whine" and be understood.
She laughed. "I'd forgotten that word," she said. "The other kinderlach all understand 'Don't kvetch.'"

Portland event TODAY

Kesser's Lag B'Omer celebration
THIS SUNDAY, MAY 13, 5:00-7:00 pm
at Gabriel Park on SW Vermont St.!

Join us for hot dogs (vegetarian options, of course!),
salads and sports and a fun time!
Cost per plate: $5/kid, $7/adult, $25 family

Mussar Truffles

There are shiurim which are good, there are shiurim which are thrilling, and once in awhile you come upon a shiur that hits you from just the right angle that no one ever tried before, and your soul smacks its lips like a Parisian.

http://ravleuchter.com/ is delicious.

English is not the rav's first language. The lectures given in South Africa are easier to follow for those of us accustomed to thinking left-to-right.


by Sam Perrin
sperrin at uoregon.edu

07 May 2012

How to Remember to Count the Omer

Get a brick.
Put it in your bed.
Each night when you count, take it out. Replace it in the morning.

If this were a different kind of blog, there would be a picture of a brick here.
And a fourteen-step DIY for decorating your snazzy Omer Brick.
I'm sure you can come up with something pretty.

A True Story

Presented by Rabbi Rafi Mollot, of the Manhattan Beach Kollel.

The Lyre Bird

Amazing clip from a nature film:
David Attenborough introduces the Lyre Bird

I saw this years ago and never forgot it.
Thanks to JP for the link.

Iyar is such a weird month

So far as I can make out, the underlying sense of Adar (the month which contains Purim) is something like:
I am not in control of my life; haha, Hashem is.
And that of Nisan (the following month, which contains Pesach) is something like:
I am not in control of my life; Hashem is, and I will run after Him.

I phrased these in the singular but they could also be plural: we, as a nation.

I could be right or wrong about Adar and Nisan, but here Iyar is halfway over (extra points if you saw the Supermoon on Saturday night) and I still have not a clue what this month is about.

Iyar does not have a major holiday, so there are no shortcuts to figuring it out.
It does have the minor holiday of Lag ba'Omer. But it also has a period of mourning which shifts around depending on your custom, and can even end up spilling over into Nisan, a month that is halachically happy. Totally wacky.

So here we are counting up to receiving the Torah. (These are the intermediate days between Pesach and Shavuos; but, unlike the intermediate days of Sukkos, they're not a holiday.) And meanwhile all the grass is dying for the summer and we're mourning. That's weird enough.
Then, Lag ba'Omer celebrates a cessation of the period of mourning - an odd occasion for rejoicing; and, it commemorates the yahrtzeit of Rabbi Shimon bar Yochai: why, in this religion full of symmetry, is he the only person with his own holiday?
And if Iyar and Lag ba'Omer are not confusing enough, you can throw Yom HaAtzmaut into the mix. Why not, go ahead and add it, as it is I'll be here till next Iyar trying to figure out what the month is about.

I'll let you know if I get it. Please leave a comment if you do.

(Should've learnt about it on Shabbos, but I learnt something from the Piaseczner Rebbe instead. Yum.  Too many pies to choose from.)

The Third-Generation Dentist

Once or twice a year I travel 3000 miles to visit my family and my dentist, Dr. M.

Dr. M is a third-generation dentist who operates out of the same residential office his father and grandfather kept.
It remains furnished as it was in 1920 and in 1970 and with every magazine Dr. M ever received and with flourishing houseplants.

Our local dentists are quick to adopt new technology and to hurry to show you your oral bacteria much enlarged so you are appropriately intimidated.
schiamachy:  an act or instance of fighting an imaginary enemy.

I figured out that in addition to his eccentricities and low overhead, I like Dr. M because he is The Good News Dentist.

Other dentists look in my mouth and say, "Hmm. Looks like there's been a lot of work around Number 24; and I think we'd better watch Number 18 - there's additional damage to the enamel. Now I need to this this and zich, and here are headphones programmed with your choice [of Bruce Springsteen or an ear-splitting Beethoven symphony] to calm you while I drill."

Dr. M looks in and says, "You have no idea how nice it is to look at a healthy mouth!  Well, I know you take good care of things, including your teeth.  I'll just do a little cleaning and you're good to go." We listen to the local radio station together and he tells me about his trip to Europe while he uses the electric buffer.
"You can rinse now," he offers frequently  - as there is no electronic gurgler dangling from my lip.

I leave feeling virtuous and clean, free of ominous threats.
I do believe this assists in dental health   -  mind over matter.

01 May 2012

Invisible Judaism

I was looking for a particular picture in the photo section of National Geographic (not a recommended hangout for sensitive young ladies) and meanwhile enjoying the colorful thumbnail images of exotic cultures, when there, between the swirling skirts of dervishes and the rainbow silks of India, this exotic culture caught my attention:

(go ahead and click on this one)

I love it...because this photo, especially in that context, really brings out how much of the color in Judaism is internal.
The men (except for the two who finished early) are obviously focusing intently on something you... can't see.

They are not making expressive gestures.
They are not even wearing expressive, uniquely Jewish clothing: as Rav Bulman zt"l said, 'the traditional dress of the Jewish people is the dress of the nobility of the previous generation'.

There are the aspects of Judaism that bubble up to the surface... and there is so, so much more below it.

Blessed Is He Who Revives the Dead!

...is the blessing recited upon seeing a dear friend you haven't seen in ages, if you had no way of ascertaining whether s/he was still among the living.
I wonder if this is because the overwhelming joy of seeing that friend again gives you some hint to what the revival of the dead will be like.

Can I just say that Feldheim totally made my day year decade life something, two weeks before Pesach, by releasing -
are you sitting? -
Volume IX.
Of Rav Hirsch's Collected Writings.

I couldn't believe it when they told me. I honestly thought they were kidding.
Volume VIII came out 17 years ago.

Get Out

"I almost believe that all you homebodies would one day have to atone for your staying indoors, and when you would desire entrance to see the marvels of heaven, they would ask you, 'Did you see the marvels of God on earth?' Then, ashamed, you would mumble, 'We missed that opportunity.'"

Vol. VIII of Rav Hirsch's Collected Writings, p. 259, in 'From the Notebook of a Wandering Jew'. Cited with the kind permission of Feldheim Publishers.