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29 September 2026
Thousands of French Jews Are Leaving France — Here’s Where They’re Going
France has the largest Jewish population in Europe, and right now thousands are leaving it every year. This documentary traces the numbers behind that exodus, from the Toulouse school shooting and the Hyper Cacher siege to the accelerated departures after October 7, and unpacks the two distinct strains of antisemitism pushing families out. It follows where they're actually going: Israel's French-speaking enclaves in Netanya and Ashdod, Montreal's French Jewish community, and growing enclaves in Miami and New York, and why each destination appeals to a different kind of family. Along the way it examines what France itself stands to lose as this community, central to its intellectual and cultural life for generations, continues to shrink. It closes on the open question of whether France can still reverse a trend that politicians have started to acknowledge but not yet solve.
CHAPTERS
0:00 Intro
0:32 The Numbers
2:10 What's Driving Them Out
3:53 Destination Israel
5:42 Destination Canada
6:47 Destination United States
8:16 What France Is Losing
9:38 Closing Thoughts
🍋🌴 Birkat Kohanim at the Western Wall today. Hundreds of thousands of people gathered today.
Jerusalem Walker
Why We Pray To Return To Our Houses in Eretz Yisroel & Not Just The Rebuilding of the Temple
The Amazing Lomdus of the Brisker Rav and the Vilna Gaon
סוכות תשפ'ז בחצרות הקודש חלק ב: תיעוד ענק ומיוחד מרגעי ההוד בחצרות האדמו'רים והרבנים
Several celebrations within one video
The Declassified Secret of the Six-Day War - Rabbi Uri Pilichowski
In the weeks before the Six-Day War, fear swept across Israel. Many believed the young country could be facing catastrophe.
Then everything changed.
Only months later came Sukkot—and with it an extraordinary story connecting the fear before the war, Jerusalem, unused wood and one of Judaism’s most powerful symbols of Hashem’s protection.
How did something associated with Israel’s darkest expectations become connected with a holiday celebrating faith, shelter and survival?
Discover a remarkable story from 1967 and a powerful Sukkot message about what it means to recognize Hashem’s protection even when the future looks frightening.
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GET READY: SHOCKING: Preparations for Third Temple Service COMPLETE
Something extraordinary is happening around the Temple Mount. Rabbi Tovia Singer explains that an altar has already been prepared, priestly garments have been made, silver trumpets are ready, and Kohanim are prepared for Temple service. At the same time, Jewish prayer, shofar blowing, and other practices that were unthinkable on the Temple Mount only a few years ago are now becoming reality.
In this edited presentation, Rabbi Singer connects these developments to the prophecies of Ezekiel and Zechariah, the return of the Jewish people to Jerusalem, and the rebuilding of the Third Temple. He explains why the Temple would represent far more than the construction of a building and why he believes the events described in Scripture are beginning to take shape before our eyes.
Featuring Rabbi Tovia Singer.
Original source video:
• Christian Presses Rabbi Singer on Third Te...
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NOTE: This Lady is Reporting on ALL the Happenings of the Retribution of the Nations
SHE JUST SAID “THEOLOGICAL EVENT”……Each country experiencing its Retribution she is covering, but not once did she relate it to any Godly Divine Retribution. Below is but one country, it is happening across the Globe. If one has not noticed, we are in full Geula mode, but much more to come. Really not necessary to follow this because it is not important internally to Eretz Yisrael and Jews. What matters is ERETZ YISROEL!
And the Earthquake and Volcano guy docum3nting them has now just written, “SOLAR” Event
Increased Volcano activity is a sign of the Geula!
WHY? WHY? WHY?
POLICE SHUTDOWN: Officers Forcefully End Simchas Bais Hashoeva At American Gvir’s Sukkah In Yerushalayim
Who’s Sukkah?
JERUSALEM CHAOS: Police Clash With Hundreds Outside HaRav Arush’s Simchas Bais Hashoeva; Flash Grenades And Tear Gas Deployed. DEVELOPING Police are continuing to clash with hundreds of people outside the Simchas Bais Hashoeva of HaRav Arush in Yerushalayim. Police are using flash grenades and tear gas to try and disperse the crowd. At least one arrest has been made.
MORE FOOTAGE: Police Clash With Hundreds Outside HaRav Arush’s Simchas Bais Hashoeva in Yerushalayim; At Least One Arrested. At least one arrest has been made. Still no reason known what caused this.
POLICE CLASH: Crowds Confront Officers Outside HaRav Arush’s Simchas Bais Hashoeva in Yerushalayim. Reason unknown. 📹 VIA REUVEN BIALA YWN ISRAEL REPORTER
Three separate articles about the fiasco!
Why are the polizia going crazy?
Maybe the erev rav is frustrated and cannot abide by all the SIMCHA?
Crazy Simcha, Wild boys and others drives them insane??
Where is ben Gvir?
Ancient Succoth and King David's Forward Military Base (eng)
Join us as we explore Tell Deir Alla in the Jordan Valley, widely identified as the biblical city of Succoth! Located just east of the Jordan River near the Jabbok River, this ancient site holds a massive amount of biblical history, strategic military importance, and archaeological significance.
In this video, we break down the history of this fascinating location:
• Jacob's Journey: How the city originally got its name from the temporary booths (succoth) Jacob built for his cattle after leaving Laban (Genesis 33).
• Gideon's Vengeance: The dramatic story of Gideon chasing the Midianite kings, Zebah and Zalmunna, and his clash with the uncooperative leaders of Succoth.
• King David's Strategic Base: Archaeologist Yigal Yadin's compelling theory that King David used Succoth as a forward military base for his northern campaigns—and how a simple translation misunderstanding might change our view of the Uriah and Bathsheba story.
• Solomon's Temple: The casting of the First Temple's copper vessels in the resource-rich Succoth Valley.
• The Balaam Inscription: The groundbreaking 1967 archaeological discovery of an 800 BCE plaster text mentioning the biblical prophet "Balaam Bar-Beor" outside of the Hebrew Bible.
This deep dive into the Valley of Succoth brings ancient texts to life!
For more information in English visit - https://historicalsitesinisrael.com/e...
For more information in Hebrew visit - https://historicalsitesinisrael.com/%...
Information and Research Sources:
Yigael Yadin – ‘The Valley of Succoth in the Campaigns of David and Ahab’; Article from the book: Military History of the Land of Israel in Biblical Times, Editor: Jacob Liver, Publisher: Ministry of Defense.
Baruch A. Levine – ‘The Balaam Inscription from Deir Alla’; Qadmoniot: Magazine for the Antiquities of Eretz-Israel and Bible Lands No. 110, Publisher: Israel Exploration Society Jerusalem.
Dr. Ilan Abecassis - Podcast: Chronicles - the Bible and the Ancient Near East. Episode 14 on the city of Succoth.
The new encyclopedia for archeological excavations in the Holy Land.
28 September 2026
CHOL HAMOED IN SLABODKA:
Gedolei HaDor HaGaon HaRav Dov Landau And HaGaon HaRav Moshe Hillel Hirsch Lead Tefillos With Yeshiva [PHOTOS]
A magnificent scene unfolded Sunday morning, the first day of Chol Hamoed Sukkos, inside the famed Slobodka Yeshiva in Bnei Brak, as the Gedolei HaDor joined the yeshiva’s Rabbanim and talmidim for Shacharis.
HaGaon HaRav Dov Landau and HaGaon HaRav Moshe Hillel Hirsch, Roshei Yeshivas Slobodka, were seen during the avodah of the arba minim and the na’anuim, surrounded by the yeshiva’s Rabbanim and hundreds of talmidim.
Photographer Shuki Lehrer documented the uplifting scenes inside the packed Slobodka Beis Medrash, capturing the Roshei Yeshiva during the na’anuim and later during Krias HaTorah.
The scenes offered a glimpse into the special atmosphere of Chol Hamoed in one of the Torah world’s most prominent yeshivos, as the Gedolei HaDor performed the mitzvos of Sukkos alongside their talmidim.
EIGHTY THOUSAND “ 80,000 ATTEND BIRCHAS KOHANIM AT THE KOSEL”
They wrote “Tens of thousands attend annual 'Priestly Blessing' ceremony”
They were overwhelmed by the attendees! BUT THE REAL NUMBER WAS 80,000
Freed Hostage, Bereaved Families Join Emotional Tefillos [VIDEO & PHOTOS]
Approximately 80,000 mispallelim packed the Kosel plaza Monday morning for the first Birchas Kohanim of Sukkos 5787, joining hundreds of Kohanim for the massive annual Chol Hamoed gathering.
According to the Western Wall Heritage Foundation, approximately a quarter-million people have already visited the Kosel over the course of Sukkos.
The traditional Birchas Kohanim gathering has been held for 56 years, dating back to its establishment by HaRav Menachem Mendel Gefner ZT”L. The event is organized each Chol Hamoed Pesach and Sukkos by the Western Wall Heritage Foundation.
Among those participating Monday were Sephardic Chief Rabbi HaGaon HaRav Dovid Yosef, Chief Rabbi HaRav Kalman Ber, Kosel Rabbi HaRav Shmuel Rabinowitz, Defense Minister Yisrael Katz, National Security Minister Itamar Ben Gvir, Minister Yitzchak Wasserlauf, Yerushalayim Mayor Moshe Lion, Israel Police Commissioner Danny Levy, former U.S. Ambassador to Israel David Friedman, freed hostage Bar Kuperstein, and numerous other rabbanim, public officials and dignitaries.
Rav Rabinowitz led the tefillos as shaliach tzibbur.
Defense Minister Katz, who is a Kohen, joined the hundreds of Kohanim in Birchas Kohanim and later offered a special tefillah for the safety and success of IDF soldiers and Israel’s security forces.
Following davening, a traditional Kabbalas Pnei Rabbo B’Regel was held with the Chief Rabbis and the Rav of the Kosel, with thousands passing before the rabbanim to receive their brachos for Yom Tov.
Particularly emotional moments unfolded during the gathering as freed hostage Bar Kuperstein joined the massive crowd in tefillas hoda’ah marking the return of the hostages one year ago.
Also participating was Motti Wieder, whose son, Staff Sgt. Elishiv Eitan Wieder HY”D, fell in battle in southern Lebanon on Erev Sukkos two years ago. Wieder recited Kaddish at the Kosel l’illui nishmas his son.
A second Birchas Kohanim gathering is scheduled for Thursday, 20 Tishrei, October 1, giving those unable to attend Monday another opportunity to participate. The event will be broadcast beginning at 8:45 a.m.
The Foundation urged visitors throughout Chol Hamoed to follow instructions from Israel Police and event personnel as officials regulate the large crowds arriving at the Kosel.
Meanwhile, tickets for tours of the Kosel tunnels during Chol Hamoed have sold out in advance. Only a limited number of spots remain for the newly opened “Sha’ar Hashamayim” experience.
The Roof (“gog”) of the World…..The Pamir Plateau
MUST SEE THIS,
🌍 The Roof of the World: Pamir Plateau
Hidden high above the clouds lies one of the most breathtaking places on Earth — the Pamir Plateau, a land so extreme and beautiful that it feels like another planet. 🌌🏔️
Rising around 13,000 feet above sea level, this incredible high-altitude world is surrounded by massive snow-covered peaks reaching over 23,000 feet. ❄️⛰️ Standing here feels like you are touching the edge of the sky. ☁️✨
What makes the Pamirs truly unique is that five legendary mountain ranges meet in this region — the Himalayas, Karakoram, Tian Shan, Kunlun, and Hindu Kush. 🏔️🌎 It is a place where nature has built one of the greatest mountain fortresses on Earth.
Because of its unmatched scale and beauty, explorers have called the Pamirs the “Father of All Mountains.” 🌄🔥
A world of endless peaks, ancient landscapes, and untouched wilderness — the Pamir Plateau reminds us how powerful and mysterious our planet truly is. 🌍💫
Would you ever dare to explore this incredible corner of the Earth? 🏔️🚶♂️✨
MUST SEE MORE SCENES https://www.youtube.com/place/m_02hp2t/shorts
Rabbi Josh Wander: Do We Really Want Transformational Change?
Wander
There is a fundamental question that I think we need to ask ourselves honestly: do we actually want transformational change, or would we prefer to remain safely ensconced in the good old exile? Normalcy bias is a fascinating human condition. We naturally assume that tomorrow will resemble yesterday and that the structures surrounding us are permanent. Even when the familiar is deeply flawed, we often prefer it to the uncertainty of transformation.
There may be no better example than the Jewish People. At the end of Yom Kippur and the Pesach Seder we proclaim, לשנה הבאה בירושלים — “Next year in Jerusalem.” We pray three times every day for the rebuilding of Jerusalem, the restoration of the Davidic kingdom and the return of the Divine Presence to Zion. We speak about Moshiach, the Messiah, sing about Moshiach and teach our children about Moshiach. Some even declare, “We want Moshiach now!” Yet behind all these declarations lies an uncomfortable question: do we really?
It is easy to desire Geulah, redemption, as an abstract theological concept. It becomes considerably more difficult when redemption begins interfering with our lives, because Geulah, by definition, means change. Institutions created to preserve Jewish life under conditions of exile may have to confront an entirely different reality when the Jewish People return to their Land. Questions that remained theoretical for two thousand years suddenly become practical, and portions of Torah that could safely be relegated to the distant future begin knocking on our door.
Let me make something absolutely clear. When I speak about transformational change, I am not advocating a reformation of Torah. I am not suggesting that we modernize Torah, dilute Torah, abandon our mesorah, our sacred tradition, or reshape Judaism to accommodate contemporary sensibilities. Quite the opposite. I am suggesting להחזיר תורה ליושנה — “to restore Torah to its former fullness.” We need to rediscover dimensions of Torah life that became dormant or impractical during nearly two thousand years of exile. The transformation I am describing is not a movement away from authentic Judaism, but a movement back toward it.
Over the centuries, we developed an extraordinarily powerful instinct for preservation, and for good reason. We endured persecutions, expulsions, forced conversions, pogroms and relentless attempts at assimilation. The surrounding world constantly demanded that we surrender pieces of our identity, so we learned to resist change. That instinct helped preserve us, but there is a danger that we eventually confused the emergency measures of Jewish survival with the ideal Jewish condition itself.
Perhaps nothing illustrates this more powerfully than Rabban Yochanan ben Zakkai’s famous request as Jerusalem faced destruction: תן לי יבנה וחכמיה — “Give me Yavneh and its sages.” Yavneh represented the genius of Jewish survival. When Jerusalem was being destroyed, Rabban Yochanan ben Zakkai ensured that Torah would survive the catastrophe. But Yavneh was never Yerushalayim. We have taken a בדיעבד — bedi’eved, a necessary response to circumstances that were far from ideal, and risked forgetting the לכתחילה — lechatchila, the ideal situation we were always meant to strive for. Yavneh was what we needed when Jerusalem was lost; it should never cause us to forget what Jewish life is supposed to look like when Jerusalem is restored.
Even our Torah learning reflects the consequences of exile. The Talmud Bavli, the Babylonian Talmud, became overwhelmingly dominant in Jewish learning and halachic discourse, while the Talmud Yerushalmi, the Jerusalem Talmud produced in Eretz Yisrael, the Land of Israel, receded from ordinary study. There were powerful historical and halachic reasons for this, and the Bavli is obviously one of the monumental foundations of Torah Shebe’al Peh, the Oral Torah. But the symbolism is striking: we became extraordinarily proficient in the Torah of Bavel, Babylonia, while becoming comparatively unfamiliar with the Torah of Yerushalayim, Jerusalem. What was historically necessary became normal.
The same phenomenon appears in our relationship with Jerusalem. We leave an unfinished square in our homes as a זכר לחורבן — zecher leChurban, “a remembrance of the Destruction,” place ashes upon the head of a groom beneath the chuppah, the wedding canopy, and break a glass at a Jewish wedding. Yet human beings can normalize almost anything. We eventually stop noticing the unfinished square, and seconds after the glass shatters everyone shouts “Mazel Tov!”, the music begins, and we dance. The broken glass was never supposed to make us comfortable with a broken Jerusalem, and the unfinished wall was never supposed to make incompleteness feel complete. Perhaps we have become better at remembering the Churban, the Destruction, than imagining the Geulah.
When we cannot imagine how the transformation could actually happen, we reach for a convenient solution: Eliyahu HaNavi, Elijah the Prophet, and Moshiach will take care of it. Somehow Eliyahu will arrive, Moshiach will appear, all unresolved questions will be answered, every institution will fall into place, and Jewish history will instantaneously move from one reality to another. This allows us to pray for an entirely different Jewish reality while assuming virtually no responsibility for preparing ourselves to live in it.
But is that really how Jewish history works? Long before the Jewish People crossed the Jordan, they first had to cross the Yam Suf, the Sea of Reeds. They stood at the water’s edge while the mighty Egyptian army—the terrifying embodiment of the Galut, the exile, they had supposedly just escaped—came charging toward them from behind. They had witnessed the Ten Plagues and experienced Yetziat Mitzrayim, the Exodus from Egypt, yet now they stood trapped between Egypt and the sea, waiting.
The Torah’s response is extraordinary. Moshe cried out to Hashem, and Hashem answered: מַה תִּצְעַק אֵלָי דַּבֵּר אֶל בְּנֵי יִשְׂרָאֵל וְיִסָּעוּ — “Why do you cry out to Me? Speak to the Children of Israel and let them journey forward!” There is a time for tefillah, prayer, and there is a time when the answer to our prayer is ויסעו — “Let them move forward.” Chazal, our Sages of blessed memory, describe Nachshon ben Aminadav entering the water and thereby capture the idea beautifully. It was not enough to believe that Hashem could split the sea or to pray that He would do so. Someone had to move toward the obstacle. The miracle was Divine, but the movement had to become human.
Standing still was not neutrality. Egypt was racing toward them from behind while redemption lay ahead through an apparently impossible sea. They could move into the terrifying uncertainty of Geulah or remain frozen before it. That same pattern appeared again when the generation of the Exodus approached Eretz Yisrael. The Meraglim, the spies sent to scout the Land, saw fortified cities, powerful inhabitants and enormous obstacles, and the nation recoiled. Yehoshua and Calev urged them forward, but the generation that had physically left Egypt was not psychologically prepared to enter the Land.
Forty years later, when their children stood at the Jordan under Yehoshua, water again separated the Jewish People from their destination. The Kohanim, the priests, carrying the Aron, the Ark, advanced until their feet entered the Jordan, and only then did the waters stop. At the Yam Suf and at the Jordan, the miracle came from Hashem, but human beings still had to move toward it. The pattern repeats itself: when we stand on the precipice of Geulah, we pause, pray and wait for the miracle that will carry us across, while perhaps Hashem is waiting for us to move. Sometimes the command comes while the sea is still directly in front of us: דבר אל בני ישראל ויסעו — “Speak to the Children of Israel and let them journey forward.”
There may be no more powerful physical illustration of this paradox today than the Western Wall itself. It is much easier to stand at the Kotel, the Western Wall, and pray, as Jews have done for centuries, than to contemplate the monumental leap—albeit geographically only a few feet—to the other side. We can stand before the Wall yearning for redemption and pleading for the restoration of what once stood beyond it, while psychologically remaining perfectly comfortable where we are. It is almost as though thousands of Jews are waiting for a miracle in which they will somehow be picked up and magically deposited on the other side, without having to confront the enormous religious questions and responsibilities that such a transition represents.
Perhaps there is something evocative here in the Torah’s language concerning the Korban Pesach, the Passover offering, and the person who is בדרך רחוקה — “on a distant road.” Chazal debate what constitutes that distance, and one approach allows a person to be physically very close and nevertheless remain outside the relevant boundary. The symbolism is striking. Sometimes the greatest distance is not measured in kilometers. Sometimes it is the few feet separating where we have become comfortable standing from where we have spent generations praying to arrive.
That may describe our predicament remarkably well. We can touch the stones of Yerushalayim, walk its streets and stand before the retaining wall of Har HaBayit, the Temple Mount, yet physical proximity does not necessarily eliminate psychological or spiritual distance. From the Yam Suf to the border of Eretz Yisrael, from the Jordan to Yerushalayim, and perhaps even from the Kotel to the other side of the Wall, the question keeps returning: are we waiting for Hashem to perform a miracle so that we will finally move, when perhaps Hashem is waiting for us to move so that the miracle can unfold?
Geulah may also require thousands of smaller changes that force us to distinguish between eternal Torah and the cultural circumstances through which Torah traveled during Galut. It could be something as mundane as clothing. A Jew whose ancestors dressed for the freezing winters of Poland or Russia might ask whether every element of that clothing must remain unchanged under the blazing sun of Eretz Yisrael. A Chassidic Jew might become physically more comfortable in different clothing while becoming philosophically very uncomfortable with the change.
That discomfort is instructive because clothing communicates identity and connects us to our fathers and grandfathers. There is something beautiful about that continuity. But we must still be capable of asking which parts of our identity are Torah and which are the historical clothing in which Torah traveled through exile. This is not a call to discard minhagim, customs, or reinvent Judaism. If something is Torah, we preserve it because it is Torah. If it is a sacred minhag, we treat it with reverence. But we should also be capable of recognizing what developed in response to particular historical circumstances.
Nor should we judge another Jew’s holiness by appearances. Perhaps the simple Jew wearing an almost transparent kippah possesses greater yirat Shamayim, fear and awe of Heaven, emunah, faith, and sincerity than someone dressed in a long black coat with a beard and payot, sidelocks, or perhaps the reverse is true. We cannot know. Clothing is visible, but the neshamah, the soul, is not.
The Arba Minim — ארבעת המינים, “the Four Species,” teach this beautifully. Chazal saw the four species as representing different kinds of Jews. Some possess Torah and good deeds, some possess one but not the other, and some appear to possess neither. Yet we do not discard the seemingly inferior species; we bind them together. The aravah, the willow, has neither the taste nor fragrance attributed to the other species, yet without it we cannot fulfill the mitzvah, the commandment. We cannot construct Geulah by deciding that holiness belongs exclusively to those who resemble us.
None of this means erasing communities or producing a homogeneous new Israeli Jew. A Chassid should remain a Chassid, a Sephardi should preserve his mesorah, a Yemenite should treasure his traditions and an Ashkenazi should preserve his. The objective is not uniformity. It is recognizing the difference between preserving our mesorah and fossilizing Galut.
This is why להחזיר תורה ליושנה — “to restore Torah to its former fullness” is so important. I am not speaking about reforming Judaism; I am speaking about restoration. I am not suggesting that we remove things from Torah because they make modern people uncomfortable. I am asking whether we are prepared to restore parts of Torah that make us uncomfortable precisely because we have not lived them for two thousand years. Geulah does not mean replacing Judaism with something new. It means allowing Judaism to become whole again.
Our ancestors built an extraordinary Judaism capable of surviving without sovereignty, without Jerusalem, without the Beit HaMikdash, the Holy Temple, and, for most Jews, without Eretz Yisrael itself. That achievement preserved us through extraordinary circumstances, and we should approach it with enormous gratitude and humility. But survival was never the final destination. The Nevi’im, the Prophets, repeatedly describe the ingathering of the Jewish People, the rebuilding of the Land and the restoration of Jerusalem. Our tradition itself demands transformation.
Galut can become remarkably comfortable. We can build magnificent shuls and yeshivot, synagogues and Torah academies, kosher supermarkets, schools, mikvaot, ritual baths, and entire neighborhoods in which one can live a completely Jewish life. After enough generations, however, the temporary begins to feel permanent, and we risk confusing the preservation of Judaism during exile with the preservation of exile Judaism itself. Our ancestors carried the flame through the darkness, but surely the purpose of carrying a flame through a tunnel is eventually to emerge from the tunnel, not to become so attached to the tunnel that daylight itself begins to seem threatening.
Our challenge, therefore, is not to choose between tradition and transformation. That is a false choice. Our challenge is to distinguish between what is eternal and what was an adaptation to exile. Torah is eternal, but Galut is not. Our mesorah is sacred, but our historical circumstances are not. Yavneh saved us when we lost Yerushalayim, but the success of Yavneh was never supposed to make us forget Yerushalayim.
Torah speaks about much more than the synagogue, study hall, home and community. It speaks about agriculture, government, armies, courts, national life, pilgrimage, korbanot, offerings, the Beit HaMikdash and the relationship between a sovereign Jewish nation and the nations of the world. For generations, much of that reality existed primarily in our books. Now we have returned to Eretz Yisrael. Hebrew is once again spoken by millions of Jews. Jewish sovereignty has returned. Jewish soldiers defend Jewish cities, and Jerusalem is once again filled with Jews. Whatever one believes about precisely where we stand in the redemptive process, Jewish history is clearly no longer standing still. The question is whether we are.
We have become remarkably comfortable praying for things whose actual arrival might profoundly disrupt us. We ask Hashem to gather the exiles, but what happens when that means leaving the countries in which we have built comfortable lives? We pray for Jerusalem, but what happens when Jerusalem requires something from us? We pray for the restoration of Jewish national life, but what happens when that requires rebuilding institutions dormant for centuries? We pray for Moshiach, but what happens when redemption stops being a song and becomes a responsibility? Perhaps we do not fear Geulah itself as much as we fear what Geulah might require us to change.
Perhaps this is one of the great spiritual challenges of our generation. We inherited Yavneh, but we have returned to Yerushalayim. We inherited a Torah preserved with extraordinary courage throughout the four corners of the earth, but we have brought that Torah home. Now we have to ask what that means, not by abandoning what our ancestors preserved, but by completing what they began; not by reforming Torah, but by להחזיר תורה ליושנה — restoring Torah to its former fullness; and not by rejecting the Judaism that carried us through Galut, but by asking what that Judaism was carrying us toward.
We have spent nearly two thousand years saying לשנה הבאה בירושלים — “Next year in Jerusalem,” and the question is no longer merely whether we remember Jerusalem, but whether we are prepared for Jerusalem to become real. We have spent nearly two thousand years praying for transformational change, mourning what we lost and dreaming about what will return. Perhaps the lesson of the Yam Suf is that there eventually comes a moment when another prayer is not enough, when standing still is itself a decision, and when the response from Heaven is מַה תִּצְעַק אֵלָי… דַּבֵּר אֶל בְּנֵי יִשְׂרָאֵל וְיִסָּעוּ — “Why do you cry out to Me? Speak to the Children of Israel and let them journey forward.” After all those prayers, all those tears and all those generations, perhaps the most fundamental question we can ask ourselves remains the simplest: Do we actually want it?
https://geulamovement.substack.com/p/do-we-really-want-transformational?
🚨ALERT: The Temple Mount Just CHANGED on SUKKOT! and a priestly blessing on the Temple Mt Area
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שואבים רוח הקודש - מעמד הקבלת פני רבו ומלחמתה של תורה בראשות רשכבה"ג מרן הגאון רבי דב לנדו שליט"א
Started streaming 35 minutes ago כבודה של תורה מעמד שמחת יו"ט והקבלת פני רבו למול פני רשכבה"ג רבינו הגדול מרן הגאון רבי דוב לנדו...













