Tag Archives: Miracles

The Most Important Torah Reading

Two columns of parashat Ha’azinu in a Torah scroll

This Shabbat we will be reading Ha’azinu, a unique parasha written in two poetic columns. Ha’azinu is a song; the song that God instructed Moses to teach all of Israel: “And now, write for yourselves this song, and teach it to the Children of Israel. Place it into their mouths, in order that this song will be for Me as a witness for the children of Israel.” (Deut. 31:19) Of course, the entire Torah is a song, chanted with specific ta’amim, musical cantillations. In fact, the mitzvah for each Jew to write a Torah scroll of their own (one of the 613) is derived from the verse above, where God commands the Children of Israel to write this song for themselves. While the simple meaning is that God meant to write the song of Ha’azinu, our Sages interpreted it to refer to the entire Torah. (Since most people are unable to write an entire kosher Torah scroll by themselves, the mitzvah can be fulfilled by writing in a single letter, or by financially contributing to the production of a Torah scroll.)

Why is the song of Ha’azinu so special that God commanded Moses to ensure it will always remain in the mouths of Israel? A careful reading shows that Ha’azinu essentially incorporates all of the central themes of the Torah. We are first reminded that God is perfect, “and all His ways are just” (32:4). While it is common for people to become angry at God and wonder why He is seemingly making life so difficult for them, Ha’azinu reminds us that there is no injustice in God, and that all suffering is self-inflicted (32:5). The Talmud reminds us that hardships are issurim shel ahavah, “afflictions of love”, meant to inspire us to change, grow, repent, learn, and draw us closer to God. Isaac Newton said it well:

Trials are medicines which our gracious and wise Physician gives because we need them; and the proportions, the frequency, and weight of them, to what the case requires. Let us trust His skill and thank Him for the prescription.

History is the Greatest Proof

In the second aliyah, we are told to “remember the days of old and reflect upon the years of previous generations” (32:7). Is there any greater proof for God and the truth of the Torah than Jewish history? Despite all the hate, persecution, exile, and genocide, the Jewish people are still alive and well, prospering as much as ever.

Does it make sense that 0.2% of the world’s population wins over 20% of the world’s Nobel Prizes? (Out of 881 Nobels awarded thus far, 197 were awarded to Jews, who number just 14 million or so. Compare that to the 1.8 billion Muslims in the world—roughly 25% of the world’s population—who have a grand total of three Nobel Prizes in the sciences.) Does it make sense that a nation in exile for two millennia can return to its ancestral homeland, defeat five professional armies that invade it simultaneously (and outnumber it at least 10 to 1), and go on to establish a flourishing oasis in a barren desert in just a few short decades? Does it make sense that tiny Israel is a global military, scientific, democratic, and economic powerhouse? And yet, does it make any sense that the United Nations has passed more resolutions against Israel than all of the rest of the world combined?

There is no greater proof for God’s existence, for the truth of His Torah, and the distinctiveness of the Jewish people than history itself. It is said that King Louis XIV once asked the French polymath and Catholic theologian Blaise Pascal for proof of the supernatural, to which the latter simply replied: “the Jews”. Although Pascal—who was not a big fan of the Jews—probably meant it in a less than flattering way, he was totally correct.

The Consequences of Forgetting God

From the third aliyah onwards, Ha’azinu describes what the Jewish people have unfortunately experienced through the centuries: God gives tremendous blessings, which eventually leads to the Jews becoming “fat and rebellious”. They forget “the God who delivered” them (32:18). This is precisely when God hides His face (32:20), and just as the Jews provoked God with their foolishness and assimilation, God in turn “provokes [them] with a foolish nation”. God sends a wicked foreign nation to punish the Jews—whether Babylonians or Romans, Cossacks or Nazis—to remind the Jews who they are supposed to be: a righteous, Godly people; a light unto the nations. If the Jews will not be righteous and divine, God has no use for them.

Having said that, this does not exonerate those Cossacks and Nazis, for they, too, have been judged. They are a “foolish nation”, a “non-people”, who themselves merit destruction, and God “will avenge the blood of His servants” (32:43). The song ends with a promise: Israel will atone and fulfil its role, its enemies will be defeated, and God will restore His people to their land.

The Spiritual Power of Ha’azinu

The song of Ha’azinu beautifully summarizes the purpose and history of the Jewish people, and elegantly lays down the responsibilities, benefits, and consequences of being the nation tasked with God’s mission. Not surprisingly then, God wanted all of Israel to know Ha’azinu very well, and meditate upon this song at all times. This is why it was given in the format of a song, since songs are much easier to memorize and internalize then words alone. Music has the power to penetrate into the deepest cores of our souls.

In fact, the Zohar on this parasha writes that music is the central way to elevate spiritually, and can be used to attain Ruach HaKodesh, the prophetic Divine Spirit. Elsewhere, the Zohar goes so far as to say that Moses’ prophecy was unique in that all other prophets needed music to receive visions, while Moses alone could prophesy without the help of song!

Today, we have scientific evidence that music deeply affects the mind. It triggers the release of various neurotransmitters, and can rewire the brain. It has a profound impact on mood and wellbeing, and can be used to induce all sorts of mental and emotional states. Music is powerful.

And so, the Torah concludes with a song. After relaying Ha’azinu, the Torah says that “Moses finished speaking all of these words to Israel” (32:45). The lyrics were the last of the Torah’s instructions. Indeed, Ha’azinu is the last weekly Torah reading in the yearly cycle. (Although there is one more parasha, it is not read on its own Shabbat, but on the holiday of Simchat Torah, at which point we jump right ahead to Beresheet, the first parasha.)

So important is Ha’azinu that it is always read during the High Holiday period, usually on Shabbat Shuvah, the Sabbath of Repentance, or Return. So important is Ha’azinu that it is most often the first parasha read in the New Year. And so important is Ha’azinu that it was commonly believed the entire Torah is encoded within it. When our Sages derived the mitzvah of writing the Torah from the command of writing Ha’azinu, they literally meant that Ha’azinu encapsulates the whole Torah! The Ramban went so far as to teach that all of history, including the details of every individual, is somehow encrypted in Ha’azinu. This prompted one of the Ramban’s students, Rabbi Avner, to abandon Judaism and become an apostate. In a famous story, the Ramban later confronts Avner, and proves that Avner’s own name and fate is embedded in one of Ha’azinu’s verses.

In past generations, many people customarily memorized Ha’azinu. The Rambam (Hilkhot Tefillah 7:13) cites another custom to recite Ha’azinu every morning at the end of Shacharit, and the Talmud (Rosh Hashanah 31a) states that in those days it was read every Shabbat. This Shabbat, take the time to read Ha’azinu diligently, and see why it was always considered the most important Torah reading. Perhaps you will even find your own life encoded in its enigmatic verses.

Wishing everyone a sweet and happy new year! Shana tova v’metuka! 

Tu b’Shevat: The Prime Ministers of Israel and the Coming of Mashiach

This Shabbat we celebrate the little-known though highly significant holiday of Tu b’Shevat. This special day is commonly referred to as Rosh Hashanah l’Ilanot, “the New Year for Trees”. The Talmud (Rosh Hashanah 2a) tells us that there are four “new years” on the Hebrew Calendar:

The first of Nisan is the New Year for kings and festivals; the first of Elul is the New Year for tithing of cattle… The first of Tishrei is the New Year for years, for sabbaticals, Jubilees, plantation, and tithing of vegetables; on the first of Shevat is the New Year for trees according to Beit Shammai, however, Beit Hillel places it on the fifteenth of that month.

The general rule is that we always follow Hillel’s opinion over Shammai’s, and so the New Year for Trees is commemorated on the 15th of Shevat. The Talmud doesn’t explain why Hillel and Shammai disagreed about the date. Perhaps because of this confusion, we are told that Rabbi Akiva would tithe his fruits on both the first and fifteenth of Shevat.

Nonetheless, by the 16th century, Tu b’Shevat had developed into an important mystical holiday, and the Arizal (Rabbi Itzchak Luria) introduced a Tu b’Shevat seder that mirrors the Passover seder. In addition to eating a variety of different fruits that are kabbalistically symbolic, the Tu b’Shevat seder includes drinking four cups of wine like on Passover. The connection is made very clear: Passover celebrates our First Redemption, and Tu b’Shevat celebrates our future redemption with the coming of Mashiach.

Indeed, Mashiach is often likened to a tree or sprouting plant. For example, Zechariah 6:2 tells us that Mashiach’s name is Tzemach, literally “plant”, while Psalms 92:13, in describing the End of Days, says “the righteous one will flourish like a palm tree.” Jewish tradition holds that a potential messiah lives in each generation, so that he may come immediately if the world is ready. Moses was the first redeemer, so his successor Joshua was the first possible mashiach.

Joshua was the first of the so-called “Judges”, the Shoftim that led Israel over the period of nearly five centuries before Israel had a king. It wasn’t just Joshua who was a potential messiah, but each and every one of the Judges. Each was a saviour in their generation, fighting off Israel’s enemies and bringing peace to the Holy Land. Each had the opportunity to reclaim Jerusalem and build the Holy Temple upon it, but failed. We read in Joshua 13:1 how God reprimands Joshua for growing old without completing his task, while the commentaries on Genesis 49:18 tell us how downtrodden Jacob was to prophetically foresee Samson fail to bring about the redemption.

The period of Judges would come to an end, and soon David would ascend the throne. It was he who acquired the Temple Mount in Jerusalem and brought the Ark of the Covenant there. David besought God to allow him to build the Temple, but God denied the request. However, he promised David that his dynasty would be everlasting, and that he would be the progenitor of the Messiah, who would complete David’s divine task.

It took a long and difficult, lawless period of Judges (where each person falsely did “what was right in their own eyes”, as we are told in Judges 17:6 and 21:25), full of warfare and oppression before the first footsteps of the Final Redemption were laid. This strongly resembles our present situation. “There is nothing new under the sun,” said King Solomon, and it appears we are reliving the past in our modern day.

Israel’s Prime Ministers

In 1948, a fully independent Jewish state in the Holy Land was finally re-established, under miraculous circumstances. Jews were returning en masse to their ancestral home, on a scale unseen since the time of Joshua. There was a chance to reclaim all of the ancient borders and even (though it would be astronomically difficult) rebuild the Temple. An even better opportunity presented itself in 1967, after the phenomenal Six-Day War. Yet time and again Israel failed to fulfil its Biblical mission. Alas, we must wait for Mashiach, the scion of David’s dynasty, to get the job done. The feeling among many Jews today is probably similar to that of the Jews in the period of Judges. And the similarities don’t end there.

The Israelite leaders in the period of Judges did some great things, but ultimately failed to realize their main task. A careful reading of the Book of Judges reveals that not all of the Judges were divinely appointed, and some weren’t even righteous! For the most part, the Judges were military leaders selected by the people. The Judge Avimelech was a powerful warrior, but such a wicked man that he was severely punished by God. Nonetheless, he is counted among the Judges because he was elected by the people. Sound familiar?

The situation in Israel today is much the same, with the people electing their leader – the prime minister – who is often a military hero and sometimes not so righteous. The parallels between the ancient Judges and the modern prime ministers of Israel are striking:

The fifth Judge was Deborah, the only female; the fifth prime minister was Golda Meir, also the only female. Prior to Deborah was Shamgar, who had such a brief stint that he is not included in the chronological record. Likewise, before Golda Meir was Yigal Allon, who served for just 19 days and is often excluded from the list of official prime ministers. Unfortunately, we don’t know very much about the Judges to make more detailed comparisons. Many are described in only one or two verses, and some just by name. (Did Prime Minister Ehud Barak appreciate the significance of his name, considering both Ehud and Barak were two central figures in the Book of Judges?)

What we do know is that there were a total of fifteen Judges, who reigned from the time the Jews returned to Israel after their calamity in Egypt. Three thousand years later, the Jews once again return to Israel after the Holocaust, and thus far there have been thirteen prime ministers. The era of Judges concluded with the start of the monarchy and the subsequent construction of the Temple. It took fifteen judges to get there. Will it take fifteen prime ministers to do it again?

The Secret of Tu b’Shevat

Although the School of Shammai taught that the “New Year for Trees” is the first of Shevat, the School of Hillel insisted that it was on the fifteenth. This is where the holiday gets its name: Tu b’Shevat literally means “fifteenth of Shevat”, where Tu is the traditional Hebrew designation for the number fifteen. (In Hebrew, Tu [ט”ו] is composed of the letters ט and ו, where the former has a value of 9 and the latter 6, totalling 15. It might seem more logical to use the letters yud [10] and hei [5] to represent 15, but that would inadvertently spell a name of God in vain!)

Perhaps the School of Hillel insisted on the fifteenth to remind us of the deeper meaning of the holiday: the Final Redemption that it symbolizes, the foundation of which was laid by the first fifteen Judges and which, perhaps, will be fulfilled by another set of fifteen modern “judges”.

The Kabbalists teach that the letters beit and pei are linked, and are sometimes interchangeable. In fact, within the shape of the letter pei is a hidden beit. With this in mind, the word Shevat (שבט) can be read Shofet (שפט), “Judge”. Thus, Tu b’Shevat may very well hint to the fifteen Judges.

When it comes to the modern-day “judges”, the Prime Minster of Israel is officially the leading member of the Knesset, Israel’s parliament. And it is the Knesset that gives the necessary “vote of confidence” to elect a prime minister. Incredibly, Israel’s very first Knesset convened on February 14, 1949, which just happened to be Tu b’Shevat!

Prophecies and Miracles

The Tu b’Shevat seder instituted by the Kabbalists cites the Talmud (Sanhedrin 98a) that “there is no greater sign of the Redemption than the fulfilment of the verse, ‘And you, mountains of Israel, you shall give forth your branches and you shall bear your fruit for my people Israel, for they shall soon come’ (Ezekiel 36:8).” The Sages state then when we see the land of Israel flourishing once more, and yielding great quantities of fruit, we should know that the Redemption is imminent. Indeed, the modern State of Israel has flourished, growing a whopping 95% of its own produce, and exporting over $1.3 billion in agricultural goods – despite having a land mass that is officially 50% desert!

Back in 1890, Rabbi Ze’ev Yavetz started a tradition by taking his students to plants trees on Tu b’Shevat. Soon after, the custom was adopted by the Jewish National Fund, which has since planted an astonishing 260 million trees in Israel, and played a central role in the nascent state’s success. Today, it is estimated that over a million Jews still participate yearly in JNF’s Tu b’Shevat tree-planting. As such, Tu b’Shevat has grown from an obscure, mystical holiday – a footnote on the Hebrew calendar – to an important holiday marked even by secular Jews, bringing the entire nation together, very much in the spirit of the coming Redemption.

‘The Mulberry Tree’ (1889) by Vincent Van Gogh

Yehoshua and the Origins of Christianity

This week’s Torah portion is Pinchas, named after the grandson of Aaron, who stemmed the tide of immorality that followed the Moabite and Midianite ploy to bring Israel to sin. For his efforts, God blessed Pinchas with an everlasting blessing of peace. In the past, we explored the nature of this blessing, and how it resulted in Pinchas’ apparent immortality, as well as his eventual rebirth as Elijah the Prophet. This week, we will explore another critical figure in the Torah: Yehoshua, better known as Joshua.

Midway through this week’s parasha we read how God commanded Moses to officially appoint Yehoshua as Moses’ successor. Yehoshua is described as a person within whom rests the spirit of God. Although there are a number of Torah figures who are described as possessing some sort of Divine Spirit, Yehoshua is one of only two who are described as having the spirit within them. In most cases throughout the Bible, the spirit of God is said to rest upon an individual (‘alav in Hebrew), or to have temporarily filled an individual (mal’e or timal’e in Hebrew). With regards to Yehoshua, it says that the spirit was within him. The only other person in the Torah who is described in such a way is Yehoshua’s direct forefather Yosef (Genesis 41:38).

An even more peculiar detail about Yehoshua is that he is called “Yehoshua bin Nun”. Every other person in the Bible is referred to by their name, as well as by their father’s name, with the designation ben – “son of” – in the middle. Yehoshua alone is called bin Nun instead of the regular ben Nun. Moreover, a person named Nun cannot be found anywhere in the Torah, and unlike most other Torah figures, Yehoshua’s genealogy is not given (although one is provided in the Book of I Chronicles, written many centuries after the Torah). Other than the fact that Yehoshua stems from the tribe of Ephraim, nothing else of his origins is divulged.

Out of a Fish

A number of midrashim step in to fill some of the details about Yehoshua’s early life. There are a few versions of the story, with one particularly tragic variety that seems to be based on the Greek myth of Oedipus. All the versions agree that at birth, Yehoshua was left by his parents, possibly placed in the Nile River like Moses. Miraculously, a large fish swallowed him up, and Yehoshua was later saved by fishermen. In the Oedipus version, he is saved by the Pharaoh’s fisherman, and thus grows up in the palace, becoming the court executioner. He tragically ends up putting his own father to death, as was originally prophesized when Yehoshua was conceived (which is why his parents abandoned him to begin with).

I prefer to think of it more in the style of Moses, where Yehoshua was placed in the Nile just as Moses was, to avoid the Pharaoh’s decree of slaughtering all the male-born. By also growing up in the palace, alongside Moses, the two would have been well-acquainted, and that might explain why Yehoshua is so close to Moses throughout the Torah narrative.

His title of Bin Nun may come from the fact that he was taken out of a fish, since nun means “fish” in Aramaic. Thus, Nun is not the name of his father at all, explaining why he is not called Ben Nun. Rather, Bin Nun refers to his origins from the fish, with his true genealogy unknown.

Whatever the case, Yehoshua grows up to be a holy man, the personal servant of Moses, one of just two righteous spies, and the leader that finally brought the people into the Holy Land. The Sages describe him as the moon to Moses’ sun, and the key link in the chain of Jewish Oral Tradition.

The Origins of Christianity

'Joshua Commanding the Sun to Stand Still upon Gibeon' by John Martin

‘Joshua Commanding the Sun to Stand Still upon Gibeon’ by John Martin

When looking at the life story of Yehoshua, it is hard to miss the connection to Christianity. Like Yehoshua, Jesus is a Jew said to have had a miraculous birth, spent time growing up in Egypt, and was described as having the spirit of God within him. Like Yehoshua, Jesus is symbolized by a fish, and is seen as a sort-of successor to Moses (as suggested by his supposed “Transfiguration”, where he ascends to be blessed by Moses and Elijah). In the same way that Yehoshua stems from Joseph, Jesus’ earthly father is said to be Joseph. Jesus is described as a miracle-worker, just as Yehoshua facilitated a number of miracles, such as making the sun and moon stand still at Gibeon, and stopping the flow of the Jordan River. Of course, Jesus’ original name as pronounced in his day was Yeshu, the Aramaic version of Yehoshua.

The similarities don’t end there. Strangely, the Torah makes no mention of Yehoshua’s wife or children (even the genealogy given in I Chronicles ends with Yehoshua himself). Jesus, too, failed to marry or have kids. The Talmud (Megillah 14b) suggests that Yehoshua did later marry Rachav, the harlot that assisted the Israelites in the conquest of the Holy Land. Rachav had repented and become a righteous woman. Similarly, Jesus had close encounters with Mary Magdalene, also described as a harlot, and also rumoured to have possibly married Jesus!

It is important to remember that there is absolutely no evidence for the existence of Jesus outside of the New Testament. It is well-known that the New Testament was written long after Jesus would have lived, and is full of contradictions about the details of his life. Many have challenged the historicity of Jesus, with more and more scholars admitting that he likely did not exist at all.

Considering all that, it isn’t hard to imagine how early Christians would have put together the mythology of Jesus based on previous Torah ideas and narratives: a miraculously-born baby with the spirit of God, whose very name means “salvation”; celibate and childless, a humble, Godly servant bringing others to repentance, and leading the Israelites to the Promised Land… This is the story of the Torah’s Yehoshua, and the story that was adapted to fit the mold of a new religion a couple of millennia ago.

Ultimately, the Jewish Sages always saw Yehoshua as a prototype of Mashiach. After all, he is the one that defeated the embodiment of evil known as Amalek, and the one that ended the exile of the Jews, returning the people to their land. It isn’t surprising that Christians used Yehoshua as a prototype for their own supposed Messiah. Ironically, though, not only did Jesus fail to defeat evil, and fail to bring an end to the exile, he was also responsible for inspiring the murder of countless people thanks to all the holy wars, inquisitions, and crusades fought in his name.

May we all merit to see the coming of the true Messiah speedily and in our days.


Nisan: Transcending Nature

This week we start the third book of the Torah, Vayikra. The English name of the book is Leviticus, referring to the fact that much of the book is concerned with priestly laws. In addition to the week’s parasha, we also read an extra section called Parashat HaChodesh, meant to prepare us for the upcoming holiday of Passover.

Parashat HaChodesh recalls God’s command to the Jewish people to set the month of Nisan as the first month of the year. Although we count the years from the start of Tishrei – which is the 7th month – the months themselves are counted from Nisan. The Mishnah (Rosh HaShanah 1:1) tells us that there are actually four new years: “the first of Nisan is the new year for kings and festivals; the first of Elul is the new year for animal tithes… the first of Tishrei is the new year for years, for sabbaticals, jubilees, for planting and for vegetables; the first of Shevat is the new year for trees according to the house of Shammai; according to the house of Hillel, however, it is the fifteenth of Shevat.”

Nisan represents the new year when it comes to the sequence of holidays, and to the counting of the reigning of kings. The Gemara explains here that even if a king took the throne at the end of the month of Adar, and the month of Nisan begins just a week later, he is already considered to have started his second year of kingship! The big question is, why is Nisan singled out as the month to start all months, and what does kingship have to do with any of it?

The Straight Serpent and the Twisted Serpent

The prophet Ezekiel describes Pharaoh as “the great serpent” (Ezekiel 29:3). Meanwhile, the prophet Isaiah mentions two serpents: nachash bariach, the “straight serpent”, and nachash ‘akalaton, the “twisted serpent”. The Kabbalistic Sages state that the straight serpent represents Moses, while the twisted serpent represents Pharaoh. The twisted serpent is depicted as one with its tail in its mouth, forming the shape of a circle (a mystical symbol often known as the ouroboros in Greek).



The circle is a shape that represents cycles, and is symbolic of nature. In nature, just about everything is cyclical: the movements of the stars and planets in their orbits, the months and years, the seasons, the water cycle, the circle of life, and so on. The circle thus represents the physical world and its strict, repeating laws of nature.

The straight line – Moses’ nachash bariach – represents the very opposite. It is a symbol of a direct connection to the upper worlds. It is about breaking free from the strict, cyclical laws of nature, and transcending into a higher realm. Indeed, this is one of the meanings of the name “Israel” (ישראל) which can be split into yashar el (ישר-אל), literally “straight to God”.

The Egyptians, with Pharaoh central among them, believed in nature and its various forces. They worshipped the sun and the moon, the earth and the sky, the Nile river (and its cyclical, seasonal flooding), a host of animals, and countless other natural entities. This was their entire reality.

The Jews, on the other hand, with Moses central among them, believed in Hashem, the one infinite God, the creator of all natural forces. They knew there is a God above all the laws of nature, one who could perform supernatural miracles when necessary. This was the very essence of the Ten Plagues, which were meant to convince all doubters that the laws of nature can be totally broken. They are all under the supervision of One God.

This was also the symbolism behind the first encounter between Moses and Pharaoh. Moses’ straight staff turned into a serpent. The staffs of Pharaoh’s magicians turned into serpents, too, but “twisted” ones. In supernatural fashion, Moses’ serpent swallowed the others whole. The straight serpent devoured the twisted serpents.

The Central Lesson of Pesach

This central message here is to teach us that we are not bound by the laws of nature. God created us in His divine image, and told us from the very beginning that we are above nature (Genesis 1:27-28). Today, many would want to have us believe that we are nothing but biological machines, here because of strict, mechanistic, evolutionary laws – laws that we cannot break free from – subject to our genes, our neural wiring, and conditioning. The reality is in fact the very opposite: our bodies are only vessels for our souls, and we are in control of our bodies, not the other way around.

The Sages state that a person who is above the natural whims of their body is a true king. The Hebrew word for “king”, melekh, is spelled מ-ל-ך, where מ stands for מוח (brain, or mind), ל stands for לב (heart), and כ stands for כבד (liver). God created the body with the brain anatomically above the heart, and the heart above the liver. The lesson is that our minds should be “above” our hearts (representing emotions and desires), and above our livers (representing honour and pride). A king is one whose mind is in control of their body. The opposite case, where one’s desires are above their mind, and the ego above all, would carry the opposite sequence of letters: כ-ל-ם, which spells klum, meaning “nothing”. And finally, a person who does not necessarily have much pride, but nonetheless succumbs to the petty emotions and desires of their body, has the sequence ל-מ-ך, which spells lemekh, meaning “servant”. They are likened to one who is enslaved by their body.

The message of Passover is to free ourselves from slavery. To become real kings. The month of Nisan is the best opportunity to do this, a month whose very root is nes (נס), “miracles”. It is the month of transcending nature, the first of the months; the new year of festivals, and the new year of kings.