The Controversy of the Omer

I have to say, Bnei Akiva has played such a part in keeping the ruach of Judaism and Jewish identity alive in New Zealand in a remarkable way. So my special congratulations to them. And Birmingham and Manchester are real powerhouses.

I will never forget the opening of the Bayit in Manchester, which was one of the first things that I did in my Chief Rabbinate. And there were a thousand people there and everyone was dancing around. And there happened to be a journalist from the Independent there and did this big article in the national press, having seen Bnei Akiva dance around with the Sefer Torah saying, now I know - this was a non-Jewish journalist saying - now I know what it was like to see King David bring the Ark to Jerusalem.

And that was the impact that Bnei Akiva had on that non-Jewish journalist. But I think Bnei Akiva has given so much to British Jewry, to world Jewry, but in particular to British Jewry. You've been a constant source of inspiration from those ancient, prehistoric days.

When I was in Bnei Akiva (it was my tenua) till now, when you just lift the roof every Yom HaAtzmaut in Kinloss. And I will never forget how, when he was Prime Minister, Gordon Brown invited himself, actually asked to be able to come to Yom HaAtzmaut and so loved the ruach of your singing that he continued to invite himself as long as he was Prime Minister. And that meant a great deal to me.

You have that enthusiasm, that passion that comes from deep, deep commitment to things that are incredibly important. And the combination of Torah and Avodah really is so important. So you bring a spirit of Eretz Yisrael to Chutz La'aretz, while reminding us that this is still Chutz La'aretz.

We still have a way to go on the journey. So I thank you for the incredible contribution you've made to British Jewish life. I wish you bracha veHatzlachah for the future and to say that you have truly inspired me.

So let's learn something together. And since we're in the middle of Sefirat HaOmer, let's learn about Sefirat HaOmer and see whether there may not be a really important message here as far as the whole hashkafa of Bnei Akiva and Torah, Avodah, Religious Zionism is concerned. And here we are.

Let's just remind ourselves, source one. “Usfartem lachem miMacharat haShabbat miYom haviachem et omer haTnufa sheva shabbatot temimot tihiyena. Ad miMacharat haShabbat haShvi’it tisperu chamishim yom… etc. etc.” 

Now we have two fundamental questions. Number one, what actually is the role of this counting of days? What is the ta’am ha’mitzvah [the reason for the mitzvah]? And number two, as you know, there was a historical controversy with immense ramifications that arose out of differing interpretations of the words “miMacharat HaShabbat.”

So let us first ask, what is the logic of Sefirat HaOmer? Number one, I think I'm going to let you learn the sources yourselves and I will only look at some of them and you can learn the mekorot subsequently. But let us remind ourselves of the two different readings. Have a look. Can you see on the bottom foot of the page? Toldot Yitzchak. Let's look, learn inside. Okay.

[reads from the source] A very interesting reason. Why did people count the days specifically up to Shavuot and not up to Pesach or not up to Succot? The answer is Shavuot comes in the middle of a period in which people are very busy and therefore they may just forget it. It's the way Mincha comes in the middle of the day. You're not going to forget Shacharit, you're not going to forget Ma’ariv, but you can be so preoccupied that you forget that the time for Mincha has come. So says the Toldot Yitzchak, that is what was happening in the fields in Israel around Shavuot time. Because everyone was so preoccupied with bringing in the harvest.

And therefore it was conceivable that they would forget that the time had come to go to Yerushalayim and go there for the regel. So that is the first reason given by the Toldot Yitzchak, which is that you might just forget in the thick of the agricultural thing in the time before there were newspapers, before there was radio, before there was television, before there was iPhone, if you can imagine such a time. And so nobody had a standard reminder of what day and what date this actually is.

Another reason… [reads from the source] Somebody is in prison, and he cries out to the king to liberate him. Not only, says the king, will I liberate you, I will actually make you part of my family. Have a nice marriage with my daughter and I'm going to marry you so you're going to become a prince. Well obviously, the prisoner is counting the days until that great moment. The Israelites were in prison in Egypt and God not only said, I will liberate you, but I will also marry you with the Torah as a ketubah and with Har Sinai or the heavens as a chupah.

That of course is associated with who in the Middle Ages? Who gives this? This is the Rambam's explanation. The Zohar gives a different explanation.

Anyone know? Can you turn to the next page? Can you see at the top of the page? [reads from the source] And the sages in the Zohar said, “They were steeped in the impurity of Egypt. And God wanted to join Himself to this people. It is like a woman who is niddah, who counts seven clean days. And in the case of the people as a whole, God commanded them as a preparation for their wedding to count seven clean weeks when they would purify themselves. And admittedly, there it was seven days in the case of a niddah. Here in the case of a nation, it's seven weeks.

But there are two differences. Number one, the Israelites were steeped in impurity to a very radical extent, not like a nidda. And secondly, for a whole nation to purify itself takes longer than for an individual.”

So you have, on the one hand, the Rambam saying, you're counting the days to Har Sinai and Matan Torah. And the Zohar says you count the days of purification as we say in the siddurim of Nusach Ari. And Chassidim talk about purifying the Chesed sheBeChesed or the 49 different middot.

Give me two other mitzvot in the Torah that involve, we've just had one of them, niddah. What's another count that involves, what's another command that involves counting time? Going to have it this week in shul. Yovel. Counting the seven cycles of seven years to the Yovel.

Now, what is the difference between the counting seven days of the niddah and the counting seven times seven years for the Yovel? What's the difference in the direction of the count? Yes, exactly so. You know, when you're counting towards the Yovel, you're counting to. But when you're trying to distance yourself from impurity, you're counting from.

So you see why the Zohar and the Rambam come up with their explanations. Because according to the Rambam, Sefirat HaOmer is counting to, like the Yovel. And according to the Zohar, it's counting from, like niddah.

Are you with me? So, the Rambam and the Zohar have that difference. One says it's counting from, one says it's counting to. But the tzad haShaveh sheBeineihem [common denominator] is that both of them are predicated on the historical journey from Egypt to Sinai, from Yetziyat Mitzrayim to Zman Matan Torateinu.

What is the only problem with that explanation according to the Torah itself? According to the Torah itself, is Shavuot described as Zman Matan Torateinu? No, it's not mentioned in the whole of Tanach. So the Rambam and the Zohar are both functioning on the basis of Torah SheBa’al Peh, not Torah SheBichtav.

What does the Torah itself emphasize when it talks about Sefirat HaOmer? The harvest, exactly. The seasonal thing. And that's why the Toldot Yitzchak makes a great deal of sense lefi pshuto shel mikra [according to the simple meaning of the text].

Because, you know, Shavuot, unlike Pesach, which has clearly got a historical resonance, and Succot, as we said on Shabbat in shul in Parshat Emor. So there the historical dimension is essential and is stated explicitly in the Torah. But what's stated explicitly in the case of Shavuot is only the agricultural dimension. And thus far, that makes a lot of sense.

And can you just look back down at the Toldot Yitzchak? Yes? Can you see the line that begins "Hazeh"? Six lines down. VeYesh omrim ta’am acher. Some give a different explanation.

“Mipnei sheHaOlam beTza'ar miPesach ad Shavuot al haTvuot veHaIlanot.” What is the tza’ar? They're very anxious in case something, God forbid, might happen that would damage the harvest. There's too little rain. Or there's too much rain. This year, didn't they have a plague of locusts that came up from Egypt? So these are the times. The critical time for a farmer is, will the grain be okay during the harvest period? And therefore, everyone has that on their mind.

And we find this in relation to other festivals. [reads from source] Since the Omer is brought as a sign of the beginning of the barley harvest, we pray, we do Nisuch HaMayim on Succot, so that beChag haOlam nidon al haMayim. Because rainfall for the year is determined at that time. So we do these things throughout the wheat harvest, throughout the grain harvest, which begins with barley and ends with wheat.

Throughout that, we count the days in order to bring down Hashem's bracha. So these are the two agricultural explanations that we count in order that the produce should be blessed, or in order that we should not forget the date, right? Etc. Etc.

Those are the reasons for Sefirat HaOmer. Now, the second question arose as to the meaning of miMacharat haShabbat, which literally means Sunday. And of course, we know through Torah Sheba'al Peh that it means, as you can see in the Targum, I brought it just there, Keter Yonatan, the second source, “tisperu lachem meAcharei yom tov rishon shel Pesach.”

We understand miMacharat haShabbat meaning the day after the first day of Pesach. And we know that through Torah Sheba'al Peh. But the Tzedokim and the Baitusim, very similar little groups of Tzadok and Baitos, both of whom were among the priestly circles in the Second Temple period, who did not agree with Torah Sheba'al Peh.

They read it literally as miMacharat haShabbat, meaning Sunday. And since you begin the count on Sunday, it means Shavuot always falls on a Sunday. Now, why would Hashem command that on Shavuot it should be a specific day of the week? Whereas on Pesach and Succot and Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur, it's not on a specific day of the week, but a specific day of the month.

Why is Shavuot different? And here you'll see if you turn on the second page, Gemara, second source, Talmud Bavli, Masechet Menachot, ”SheHayu Baitusim omrim,” the Baitusim, and as I say, they were also, the Sadducees had the same shita. They used to say, Shavuot always falls on Sunday. Rabbi Yochanan ben Zakkai took it on himself to challenge them.

He said, “Fools, why do you have this idea?” There was one elder who had the temerity to stand up to Rabbi Yochanan ben Zakkai and actually gave him a very good reason. He said, “Moshe Rabbeinu ohev Yisrael hayah.” Moshe Rabbeinu had rachmanut on Jews.

What have they been doing? They've been labouring in the field for seven weeks. They're completely exhausted. And he knew that you only get a little break for Shavuot.

For Succot and for Pesach, you get a break of a week. You got a week's holiday. But on Shavuot, you only get a day's holiday.

That was the invention of the long weekend. Moshe Rabbeinu gave them a long weekend. Shabbat Sunday, you get a long weekend.

So that was the answer given by the Boethusians. What reason would you give for saying that Chazal were right in saying that miMacharat haShabbat is the day after the first day of Pesach? Anyone got a good one? Well, can you see this source here? That source there, there is a little extract there from Rav Zevin zt”l’s “Moadim BeHalacha.” And you look it up, he gives you one, there are many, many explanations. It gives you one characteristic, one from Chazal, one from the Rambam, and one from the Acharonim. I think we're going to have a look just at the Rambam. Can you see that line that begins with a bit of a dash, a Rambam, halfway down that source? Yes? This is what the Rambam says.

[reads from source] That is, they learned according to the Torah Sheba’al Peh, that the meaning of Shabbat in the phrase miMacharat HaShabbat does not refer to Saturday, but to the first day of Pesach. And that is the tradition that they received ba’al peh, orally from Moshe Rabbeinu and handed it on through the Nevi'im and the Sanhedrin generation after generation. They offered up the omer on the 16th of Nissan, bein beChol, bein beShabbat, regardless of when, which day of the week Pesach was.

You are not allowed to eat of the new crop until you've offered up the omer. And then it says in the book of Joshua in the fifth chapter, when they crossed the Jordan and entered the Land, it says they ate of the new produce, miMacharat haPesach and not miMacharat haShabbat. The Rambam says, you see here that the word Shabbat means Pesach. In the Shabbat era, he says, the Boethusians would argue with you. Why did they eat the day after Pesach? Because that year Pesach fell on a Shabbat.

But the Rambam says, well, in that case, it should have emphasised that it was on Shabbat, not on Pesach. Now that is the Rambam's proof. And have a little look here. Can you see on the second page halfway down? Three down on the second page. Here is this moment. The Israelites under Joshua encamped in Gilgal. And they celebrated Pesach on the 14th of the month. In the evening, they offered the Korban Pesach. They ate of the produce of the Land the next day. And the next day, the manna ceased. 

Okay. That is the straightforward explanation.

What was Sefirat HaOmer? The Rambam, the Zohar is counting the days from the Exodus to the Revelation of Sinai. And according to the Toldot Yitzchak, two agricultural explanations. And why does it say miMacharat haShabbat? According to the Tzedokim, it was a long weekend. But according to the Rambam, we can see that the Book of Joshua uses the phrase miMacharat haPesach the way it uses the phrase miMacharat haShabbat in Parshat Emor, right? And that is the standard explanation. Okay. And now let me suggest completely and absolutely, radically, a new way of reading this.

Here we go. Number one. Why does the Torah say miMacharat haShabbat? Let me explain to you.

Throughout, and I've got an obvious question, how come this became a controversy in the late Second Temple Period? Be with me. It was more than a thousand years, thirteen hundred years, that they celebrated Shavuot from the time of Moshe Rabbeinu to the late Second Temple Period. How come they never had an argument for it for over a thousand years? And all of a sudden, in the Bayit Sheini, they had an argument about it? Okay. See the question?

I want to suggest a very simple answer. And a very simple explanation why miMacharat haShabbat means the day after the first day of Pesach. And why this became controversial.

The answer is very simple. Pesach has two separate celebrations associated with it. Number one is called Pesach. When was Pesach in the Biblical era? Let me tell you. When was Pesach? The 14th of Nissan. Pesach was the day on which you offered up the Korban Pesach.

Are you with me? That was the day. What we call Pesach today, which begins on the 15th of Nissan, what does the Torah call it? Chag HaMatzot. It never calls it Pesach. Pesach is a different day completely. Pesach is the 14th of Nissan. Chag HaMatzot is the festival from the 15th to the 21st. Are you with me? These are completely different days.

Pesach is one thing and Chag HaMatzot is a different thing. So what was the Torah supposed to say? MiMacharat HaPesach, the day after Pesach, that's the 15th of Nissan. Not the 16th.

If it said miMacharat haChag, that would be the 20, whatever it is, 22nd, 23rd of Nissan, not the 16th. Are you following? The Torah couldn't have said miMacharat haPesach because we'd get the wrong day and it couldn't say miMacharat haChag because we'd still get the wrong day. What is the difference between Pesach… I've got my idea, I'm marching on this.

Okay, what is the difference between Pesach and Chag HaMatzot? Guys, what's the difference? Chag HaMatzot, beginning and end, you can't work. There's issur melacha, right? It's Yom Tov. Whereas Pesach, the 15th, when you offer up the Korban Pesach, there's no issur melacha, right? Are you with me? So, therefore, if you want to say in the simplest, economical way so that people will not get confused between Pesach and Chag HaMatzot, you have to say after the day of rest, miMacharat haShabbat.

Because Pesach is not haShabbat. Pesach is the 14th of Nissan. You can do work, you can write, you can buy and sell, you can do whatever you like. You offer up the Korban Pesach. There's no issur melacha. But the day of, first day of Pesach, there's issur melacha. You can't call it a chag because the chag lasts for seven days. You want to describe the first day? The day of… miMacharat haShabbat. Therefore, the Torah was absolutely clear and is simple for anyone living in the Biblical era.

The trouble is, after the Biblical era, we suddenly discover people calling Chag HaMatzot, Pesach. What's the name of the tractate dealing with Pesach? Pesachim. Arvei Pesachim. All of a sudden, Chag HaMatzot comes to be called Pesach.

And all of a sudden, people get confused. Why does it say miMacharat haShabbat and not miMacharat haPesach? Because they forgot that Pesach, which to them is the seven-day festival beginning on the 15th of Nissan, in the Biblical age, meant the 14th of Nissan. So they only got confused when linguistic convention changed, of which we have the evidence that the tractate dealing with the festival is called Pesachim, whereas it should have been called Chag HaMatzot.

Because of that linguistic change, an ambiguity began, which never existed in the Biblical age. And that's why it was not a controversy throughout the whole Biblical age. But in the post-Biblical era… you know, you're saying now, oh, they could have taken a book and worked out the Pesach… They didn't have books. No sefarim. They didn't have the books to read.

They couldn't look it up. So they didn't know. So when they heard they wanted the day after the first day of the festival, how would we say miMacharat HaPesach? Because that's how you spoke in the first century of B.C. and the first century of C.E. But it's not how you speak now.

So that's number one. So now, we just cut through about 2,000 years of argument, and now we understand it. Now, I want to come up with a radically different explanation of Sefirat HaOmer.

Tell me very simple. What else in the Torah is associated with the word “omer”? There's only one thing. What is it? Manna. Exactly so. Open Shemot Chapter 16, and you will see the word “omer” appears six times. It's the only other place it appears. Always in connection with the manna. The manna fell, and however much you collected or however little you collected, when you measured it up, it was an omer. Right? That's how much manna you got, except on Shabbat, when you got on Friday, two omers fell, etc., etc.

Now, is it conceivable that Sefirat HaOmer has something to do with the manna? Well, what's Pesach got to do with it? It is about matzot. Pesach is about one kind of food. Lechem oni, the bread of affliction. Ha lach ma anya di achalu avoteinu beAra deMitzrayim… When did they start eating the manna? Answer, when the matzah ran out. So, the manna was the food of freedom. It was the food of the journey. Are you with me? And that is what Sefirat HaOmer is. It's a reminder that our ancestors ate the omer called the manna. Right? 

Now, tell me, when did the manna start falling? Which day of the week? Have a look on the second page, middle of the page, Rashi. Anyone know how long the matzah lasted? How long does matzah last? Lasted 30 days. Rashi, Shemot Chapter 16, [reads from source] that was the day when they had camped halfway through the journey. That's when all the matzahs they brought with them out of Egypt ran out, and they needed the manna. They ate it for 30 days, 61 meals. And the manna first fell on the 16th Iyar, which was a Sunday. The manna began falling on Sunday and that is why we start counting the Omer on Sunday in memory of the manna that fell down on Sunday. Okay? It's true, we could start counting the Omer in the middle, but since we're remembering the Exodus on Pesach, and the journey through the wilderness on Shavuot, the food they ate during the wilderness, which wasn't the bread of slavery and the bread of affliction, was the manna, lechem miShamayim. Right? 

And that, it seems to me, was the view of the Tzedokim, the Sadducees. Yes? We count the Omer in memory of the miracle of the bread that fell for the Israelites, min haShamayim, lechem. The sefira of the Omer is a daily recall of the bread. Why daily? Because it fell daily. And it only lasted for a day, except on Friday. So if you stored it up for two days, by the time you woke on the second morning, it had gone.

So it was day by day by day, and so we count day by day by day to remember something which began before Mount Sinai. However, the Rambam says no, we have to look at the book of Joshua. And there we see miMacharat haPesach, instead of miMacharat haShabbat.

Now, have a look at that source from Joshua. Do you have it? Third line down, third one down on the second page. Vayachanu Bnei Yisrael BeGilgal, and the Israelites dwelt in Gilgal, and they made the Pesach on the 14th, etc., etc.

And they ate the produce of the Land, miMacharat haPesach, the day after the Pesach, on the 15th, they ate the produce of the Land, matzot veKalui beEtzem haYom hazeh, vayishbot haMan miMacharat, and the day after that, the 16th of Nissan, the manna ceased. Are you with me? Now we see the view of Chazal.

What do we celebrate on the 16th of Nissan? Not the day the manna first fell, but the day the manna stopped. And that is the dispute between the Tzedokim and the Perushim. The Tzedokim remembered. This is in memory of the manna that fell for our ancestors, and for the Perushim, this is in memory of the day the manna stopped, and what did we have instead? The bread of Eretz Yisrael. Right? 

Now what is the difference between the manna and the bread of Israel? Please explain to me the difference. Bread you grow in a farm and, you know, not the bread you buy in the local shop. What's the difference between manna and bread that you actually grow? Can we count them please? 

Yes, when it's given by God, with the other you have to make by yourself. Number two, what does the Torah call manna? Lechem min haShamayim. What is the bread from Eretz Yisrael? HaMotzi lechem min haAretz. One comes from heaven, one comes from down here. Difference three, the manna was miraculous. You know all the miracles associated with manna. The bread you grow in the Land of Israel is not miraculous. And according to Rabbi Akiva, lechem abirim, it's described in the psalm. What does Rabbi Akiva say? Lechem sheMalachei haShareit ochlim oto. This is the bread the angels eat. What was the omer from? What grain? Barley, which is even bread that animals eat. So one's very holy and one's not at all.

But what is the difference? One comes from God and one doesn't come from God. Now guys, I'm going to tell you something very simple and you'll think about it. Bread that falls from heaven without your having to do anything at all to produce it is very miraculous.

However, Jewish tradition called this bread Nahama DeKisufa. Anyone know what that means? Pardon? Yeah, the bread of shame. Why? You get it without working.

Somebody else gave it to you. You know, we say in the benching, Vena al tatzricheinu Hashem elokeinu lo lidei matnat basar vaDam velo lidei halva’atam… shelo neivosh velo nikalem… If you eat somebody else's bread that you didn't have to work for, that is shaming because you're dependent on somebody else's generosity.

Therefore, the Sages, no, not the Sages, you'll see in very little print here. Can you see in very little print that little bit there? Get a magnifying glass and you will see this is the Chatam Sofer who explains that the manna was called Nahama DeKisufa. It was the bread of shame.

Yes, it was miraculous, but because the Israelites didn't have to work for it, they felt shame because they didn't have the dignity of having produced it itself. The Chatam Sofer is the first person I could find who connects man, the manna, with Nahama DeKisufa. However, the bread that you grow in Eretz Yisrael through your own hard work, that is bread you eat with dignity.

Why? Because when you work for it, you have become HaKadosh Baruch Hu's partner in the work of creation. God gave us the Land, but the Israelites produced the labour. God gave us the grain, but the Israelites sowed the seed.

Hazorim beDima beRina yiktzoru. When you sow in tears, you will reap in joy. Why? Because, what is it? Yegiyah kapecha ki tochal ashrecha vetov lach. Because when you eat of the labour of your own hands, you feel a sense of dignity. And now you begin to see the fundamental philosophical difference between the Sadducees on the one hand and the Pharisees on the other.

The Sadducees, according to many theorists, were the well-off. They were the affluent. They were Kohanim in the Beit HaMikdash. They were in the circle of the court. They lived in urban environments. They mainly lived in Jerusalem. They were part of what we would call today the leisured class. They weren't interested in hard work. They were not working-class people. They were aristocrats. And so for them, the holiest of holies is the manna, which comes direct from God without your having to produce anything about it. It was miraculous. It was heavenly. It was the bread the angels eat. But the Perushim, who were working-class people, knew that dignity comes when you work the land.

And when you grow food in the Land and you're able, Baruch Hashem yom yom, to thank God every day for the ability to become His partner in His Land through your work and through your conquest and through your yishuv ha'aretz, that gives you dignity. And that is why, for the Perushim, the manna was what you recalled on the Omer and the manna first fell on a Sunday. But for the Perushim, what gave you dignity was the bread you grew yourself in the Land of Israel. And we know the manna ceased on the 16th of Nissan, and that is when they began eating from the produce. 

It turns out that the argument between the Perushim and the Tzedokim is pretty similar to the argument between the Eida Charedit and the world of Religious Zionism today. Which is holier? To be able to receive bread from heaven courtesy of the government without having to work? Or is it Torah VeAvodah? Avodah means amal.

Bnei Akiva believed that going back to the Land, working the Land, producing bread from the Land, in partnership with HaKadosh Baruch Hu. He gave the Land, we gave the labour. He gave the Eretz, and we gave the Avodah, that was where dignity is. And that's what we celebrate on Sefirat HaOmer. 

The real freedom is not that you stop eating the bread of affliction and start eating the bread of heaven.

The real freedom is you stop having to work for somebody else, and you start working for yourself, for your people. To build up the Land, to build up the people, and to be the people of Hashem, who, despite the fact that they're engaged in avodah, never forget the Torah that inspires them. 

In which case, it turns out that the argument is completely different from any other account that's been given. And it turns out to be absolutely to the core of the philosophy of Bnei Akiva.

In case you thought nobody ever said such a thing, pishpashti uMatzati, and you will find that in the last source I've given you, the Sfat Emet, the Midbar Shavuot, you will find that the Sfat Emet comes up with a very similar suggestion. I only discovered this a couple of days ago, but baruch sheKivanti. He says that the shtei haLachem of Shavuot represent that combination of lechem in Shamayim and lechem in Aretz, and he also uses the concept of Nahama DeKisufa, although he uses the language of the Yerushalmi, which is the source of our concept, but not of the wording. Can you see in the last source on the second page? Sfat Emet? Second line down, and can you see the next ones? DeMan deAchal d'lav d'ilei, bahit lista kulei bei. That is the Yerushalmi's way of describing Nahama DeKisufa. When you eat of bread that really belongs to somebody else, you're ashamed to eat. So that is the first indication of what the Kabbalists called Nahama DeKisufa. So I hope I've explained to you now both why there was a dispute and secondly, what there was a dispute about.

Friends, never, ever, ever doubt the validity, the continuing importance and davka now, when the whole political configuration of the new government is trying to create a new partnership between the religious public and the secular public, never, ever doubt that the hashkafa of Bnei Akiva is relevant to the spiritual challenge of Eretz Yisrael and a united Israel and today more than in a generation. Never was there a more fitting moment for us as religious Jews to go out to secular Jews who want to engage in dialogue and partnership. Let us take our commitment, as bogrim of Bnei Akiva, to Torah and Avodah and understand that that is the challenge of Medinat Yisrael.

In Chutz La'aretz, we are working for others. That's why Chutz LaAretz is always a little bit like Israel, even if it's quite comfortable. But in Israel, we are working for the sake of Am Yisrael, al pi Torat Yisrael.

It is that Avodah that gives us our dignity and that's us. May this be a great, great moment for the hashkafa of Torah VeAvodah and may Hashem continue to bless you and may you continue to be a blessing to Am Yisrael.