Thursday, July 2, 2020

Watchman Report: Fear and Control



Watchman Report: Fear and Control

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Jul 2, 2020
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Watchman Report: Fear and Control

In this week's Prophecy Update with Tom Hughes, we look at how pandemics or other disasters can be used to create fear and how that fear can be used as a means of control.

Pastor Tom Hughes

Pastors Tom Hughes

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Pastor Tom Hughes
412 Church
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All the signs of the last days are converging at the same time. Bible Prophecy is happening right before our eyes and like birth pains, the predicted events are happening more frequently and more intently. Never, in the history throughout the world have so many forces, including economic, scientific, techno-logic, ecologic, cultural, geopolitical, moral, spiritual and religion, converged together to bring this world that's already teetering over the edge into the abyss, to a point of no return. Jesus said when you see all these signs happening, know that I am near, even at the door.

For more in-depth studies, commentary, and analysis of Bible Prophecy and End Times events visit our web site www.prophecyupdate.com and sign-up for our free newsletter…

Beatrice the Butterfly: A Covid-19 Story for Children

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Beatrice the Butterfly: A Covid-19 Story for Children
Remembering what makes life magical.

Once there was a butterfly named Beatrice.
Beatrice had the most extraordinary dots. But that wasn’t the only thing that was special about Beatrice. Beatrice had wings and she loved to flutter them. When Beatrice fluttered her wings the most amazing thing happened – she flew! She flew high, she flew low. She flew wherever she wanted to go.
One day, Beatrice’s Mommy told her she had to stop flying. Beatrice didn’t understand.
“But I love to fly!” she protested.
“Yes,” Beatrice’s mommy said, “I also love flying, but there are some butterflies who are getting very, very, sick and the only way to stop that from happening is to give our wings a rest.”
So Beatrice listened. She stopped fluttering. Instead, Beatrice and her mommy sat.
Her mommy showed her new things, different things. Sometimes they would sit side by side and just move their wings very slowly. Other times they studied their dots. Beatrice had never noticed how beautiful her mommy’s wings were! Some days Beatrice longed to fly, she missed her friends and seeing the world.
Then one day her mommy said, "It’s almost time to fly again. Soon. Not yet. But we need to get ready. When we do fly there will be rules, places you can go and places you can’t.”
Beatrice didn’t know how to feel. She was a bit excited. She had been waiting for this day. But she was also scared. She was used to the slow fluttering now. In fact, she had come to like it.
“Mommy, I’m not so sure I want to fly again,” Beatrice said.
“I know honey, me too,” said her mommy. Then her mommy fluttered a little closer to her.
“Shall I tell you a secret?” she asked.
“Yes,” said Beatrice.
“You didn’t always know how to fly,” her mommy said. “In fact, you didn’t start out as a butterfly. Once you were a caterpillar. You built yourself a cocoon, you went inside, it was while you were hidden away that you became who you are today. Your daddy and I waited a long time for you to grow your wings and dots and practice fluttering. Now shall I tell you the real secret?”
Beatrice nodded her best butterfly yes.
“Sometimes our cocoon is invisible. Sometimes we go inside to grow, and sometimes our wings change; but no matter what, the you inside of you is here, with your special dots. Wherever you are, wherever you go, you are the Beatrice that God created, and that is what makes life magical. Not the flying or the fluttering, but you being you. Which means sometimes we fly, and sometimes we sit. But all the time we grow. Don’t worry about the new world. As soon as you are used to how it is, it will change again. So best to just get really good at being you. In your cocoon, out of your cocoon, flapping, fluttering, flying or still."
"Okay," Beatrice said. “But what if I forget?”
“That's what your dots are for! Whenever you get that worried feeling inside just look at your dots, they will whisper to you – ‘you are Beatrice, God gave you those dots to remind you that you’re special, to remind you that you have a spark of Him inside, that you are the most extraordinary butterfly!’ As long as you remember that, wherever you are whatever you do, you’ll be okay, because you’ll be you.”
Beatrice thought for a moment, then she looked at her dots, she looked at her mommy and she gave a gentle flutter.
She was Beatrice, God’s special butterfly. She didn’t know what she would do tomorrow or where she would be, but she did know who she was, and that was all she needed.

Aish Academy Raising Children Course
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Kohelet, Tolstoy and the Red Heifer Chukat (Numbers 19:1-22:1)

Kohelet, Tolstoy and the Red Heifer

Chukat (Numbers 19:1-22:1)

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Kohelet, Tolstoy and the Red Heifer
Death forces us to confront our deepest fears.

The command of the parah adumah, the red heifer, with which our parsha begins, is known as the hardest of the mitzvot to understand. The opening words, zot chukat ha-Torah, are taken to mean, this is the supreme example of a chok in the Torah, that is, a law whose logic is obscure, perhaps unfathomable.
It was a ritual for the purification of those who had been in contact with, or in, certain forms of proximity to a dead body. A dead body is the primary source of impurity, and the defilement it caused to the living meant that the person so affected could not enter the precincts of the Tabernacle or Temple until cleansed, in a process that lasted seven days.
A key element of the purification process involved a Priest sprinkling the person so affected, on the third and seventh day, with a specially prepared liquid known as “the water of cleansing.” First a red heifer had to be found, without a blemish, and which had never been used to perform work: a yoke had never been placed on it. This was ritually killed and burned outside the camp. Cedar wood, hyssop, and scarlet wool were added to the fire, and the ashes placed in a vessel containing “living” i.e. fresh water. It was this that was sprinkled on those who had become impure by contact with death. One of the more paradoxical features of the rite is that though it cleansed the impure, it rendered impure those who were involved with the preparation of the water of cleansing.
Though the ritual has not been practised since the days of the Temple, it nonetheless remains significant, in itself and for an understanding of what a chok, usually translated as “statute,” actually is. Other instances include the prohibition against eating meat and milk together, wearing clothes of mixed wool and linen (shatnez) and sowing a field with two kinds of grain (kilayim). There have been several very different explanations of chukim.
The most famous is that a chok is a law whose logic we cannot understand. It makes sense to God, but it makes no sense to us. We cannot aspire to the kind of cosmic wisdom that would allow us to see its point and purpose. Or perhaps, as Rav Saadia Gaon put it, it is a command issued for no other reason than to reward us for obeying it.1
The Sages recognised that whereas Gentiles might understand Jewish laws based on social justice (mishpatim) or historical memory (edot), commands such as the prohibition of eating meat and milk together seemed irrational and superstitious. The chukim were laws of which “Satan and the nations of the world made fun.”2
Maimonides had a quite different view. He believed that no Divine command was irrational. To suppose otherwise was to think God inferior to human beings. The chukim only appear to be inexplicable because we have forgotten the original context in which they were ordained. Each of them was a rejection of, and education against, some idolatrous practice. For the most part, however, such practises have died out, which is why we now find the commands hard to understand.3
A third view, adopted by Nahmanides in the thirteenth century4 and further articulated by Samson Raphael Hirsch in the nineteenth, is that the chukim were laws designed to teach the integrity of nature. Nature has its own laws, domains and boundaries, to cross which is to dishonour the divinely created order, and to threaten nature itself. So we do not combine animal (wool) and vegetable (linen) textiles, or mix animal life (milk) and animal death (meat). As for the red heifer, Hirsch says that the ritual is to cleanse humans from depression brought about by reminders of human mortality.
My own view is that chukim are commands deliberately intended to bypass the rational brain, the pre-frontal cortex. The root from which the word chok comes is h-k-k, meaning, “to engrave.” Writing is on the surface; engraving cuts much deeper than the surface. Rituals go deep below the surface of the mind, and for an important reason. We are not fully rational animals, and we can make momentous mistakes if we think we are. We have a limbic system, an emotional brain. We also have an extremely powerful set of reactions to potential danger, located in the amygdala, that lead us to flee, freeze or fight. A moral system, to be adequate to the human condition, must recognise the nature of the human condition. It must speak to our fears.
The most profound fear most of us have is of death. As La Rochefoucauld said, “Neither the sun nor death can be looked on with a steady eye.” Few have explored death and the tragic shadow it casts over life more profoundly than the author of Kohelet (Ecclesiastes):
“The fate of man is the fate of cattle; the same fate awaits them both, the death of one is like the death of the other, their spirits are the same, and the pre-eminence of man over beast is nothing, for it is all shallow breath. All end in the same place; all emerge from dust and all go back to dust” (Eccl. 3:19-20).
The knowledge that he will die robs Kohelet of any sense of the meaningfulness of life. We have no idea what will happen, after our death, to what we have achieved in life. Death makes mockery of virtue: the hero may die young while the coward lives to old age. And bereavement is tragic in a different way. To lose those we love is to have the fabric of our life torn, perhaps irreparably. Death defiles in the simplest, starkest sense: mortality opens an abyss between us and God’s eternity.
It is this fear, existential and elemental, to which the rite of the heifer is addressed. The animal itself is the starkest symbol of pure, animal life, untamed, undomesticated. The red, like the scarlet of the wool, is the colour of blood, the essence of life. The cedar, tallest of trees, represents vegetative life. The hyssop symbolises purity. All these were reduced to ash in the fire, a powerful drama of mortality. The ash itself was then dissolved in water, symbolising continuity, the flow of life, and the potential of rebirth. The body dies but the spirit flows on. A generation dies but another is born. Lives may end but life does not. Those who live after us continue what we began, and we live on in them. Life is a never-ending stream, and a trace of us is carried onward to the future.
The person in modern times who most deeply experienced and expressed what Kohelet felt was Tolstoy, who told the story in his essay, A Confession.5 By the time he wrote it, in his early fifties, he had already published two of the greatest novels ever written, War and Peace and Anna Karenina. His literary legacy was secure. His greatness was universally recognised. He was married, with children. He had a large estate. His health was good. Yet he was overcome with a sense of the meaninglessness of life in the face of the knowledge that we will all die. He quoted Kohelet at length. He contemplated suicide. The question that haunted him was: “Is there any meaning in my life that will not be annihilated by the inevitability of death which awaits me?”6
He searched for an answer in science, but all it told him was that “in the infinity of space and the infinity of time infinitely small particles mutate with infinite complexity.” Science deals in causes and effects, not purpose and meaning. In the end, he concluded that only religious faith rescues life from meaninglessness. “Rational knowledge, as presented by the learned and wise, negates the meaning of life.”7 What is needed is something other than rational knowledge. “Faith is the force of life. If a man lives, then he must believe in something … If he does understand the illusion of the finite, he is bound to believe in the infinite. Without faith it is impossible to live.”8
That is why, to defeat the defilement of contact with death, there must be a ritual that bypasses rational knowledge. Hence the rite of the red heifer, in which death is dissolved in the waters of life, and those on whom it is sprinkled are made pure again so that they can enter the precincts of the Shechinah and re-establish contact with eternity.
We no longer have the red heifer and its seven-day purification ritual, but we do have the shiva, the seven days of mourning during which we are comforted by others and thus reconnected with life. Our grief is gradually dissolved by the contact with friends and family, as the ashes of the heifer were dissolved in the “living water.” We emerge, still bereaved, but to in some measure cleansed, purified, able again to face life.
I believe that we can emerge from the shadow of death if we allow ourselves to be healed by the God of life. To do so, though, we need the help of others. “A prisoner cannot release himself from prison,”9 says the Talmud. It took a Kohen to sprinkle the waters of cleansing. It takes comforters to lift our grief. But faith – faith from the world of chok, deeper than the rational mind – can help cure our deepest fears.
NOTES
  1. Saadia Gaon, Beliefs and Opinions, book III.
  2. Yoma 67b.
  3. The Guide for the Perplexed, III:31.
  4. Commentary to Leviticus 19:19.
  5. Leo Tolstoy, A Confession and other religious writings, Penguin Classics, 1987.
  6. ibid., 35.
  7. ibid., 50.
  8. ibid., 54.
  9. Berakhot 5b.

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Uncovering Jewish History in Vilna

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Uncovering Jewish History in Vilna
Cutting edge technology is unearthing fascinating new evidence regarding the Jews of Vilna.

Israeli archeologists are world-renowned for identifying and excavating ancient sites within Israel and beyond, adding to our understanding of life thousands of years ago.
In recent years, some archeologists from the Israeli Antiquities Authority, working with other archeologists from around the world, have been uncovering secrets from a more recent past, namely synagogues and other Jewish buildings in Vilnius, Lithuania, which were destroyed during World War Two by the Nazis, and an escape tunnel used by Lithuanian Jews during the Holocaust. In the process, these scientists have reminded the world that the history of Vilnius is largely the history of its Jews.
Before World War Two, Vilnius (also known as Vilna) was home to one of the largest Jewish communities in Europe. 100,000 Jews called the city home, nearly half the population. Some of the most famous rabbis of the modern era lived in or near Vilnius, including the Vilna Gaon (1720-1797), his student, Rabbi Chaim of Volozhin (1749-1821), who established the famed yeshiva in Volozhin, about 70 miles from Vilnius, and Rabbi Israel Meir Kagan (1838-1933), known as the Chofetz Chaim, who studied and lived part of his life in Vilnius.
Bimah & Aron Kodesh of the Great Synagogue.
(Thanks to http://www.seligman.org.il)
Known as the “Jerusalem of Lithuania”, Vilnius was home to 105 synagogues and six daily Jewish newspapers. At the heart of this bustling Jewish life was the Great Synagogue of Vilnius. In reality not one synagogue but 12, the Great Synagogue was built in a grand 17th Century lavish Renaissance-Baroque style. In the middle was the “Great” synagogue, a huge hall used to study Torah and host communal events. Around this grand building were 12 synagogues, Jewish schools, mikvahs, the Jewish community council building, the famous Strashun Library, and space for kosher vendors.
Vilna Synagogue Facade, the Strashun Library and the Shops on Zydu Street
For 300 years this vast complex was the heart of Lithuanian Jewry, until German soldiers captured the city in June 1941, ransacked and burned the Great Synagogue and all its surrounding Jewish buildings. German soldiers and local collaborators killed 95% of Lithuania’s Jews.
The Aron Kodesh of the Great Synagogue of Vilna
In 1944, when the Soviet Army captured Vilnius, a modern school was built atop the Great Synagogue’s ashes. “My parents told me that my school was on top of the synagogue but no one knew where,” explained Amit Belaite, a member of the European Union of Jewish Students. For decades, the spot where the Great Synagogue and its surrounding buildings once stood was unknown and largely unremembered.

Finding the Synagogue

In 2015, a team led by Dr. Jon Seligman of the Israel Antiquities Authority and Prof. Richard, Director of the Maurice Greenberg Center for Judaic Studies at the University of Hartford, set out to uncover the site of the synagogue, approaching the site the way they explored archeological ruins. They conducted a Ground Penetrating Radar survey and in July 2015, announced they had located the underground ruins of the buildings.
The researchers have uncovered some ground-breaking new evidence of Jewish history in the region.
“We felt tremendous excitement when the radar located signs of possible remains of the synagogue,” Dr. Seligman explained at the time. Drs. Seligman and Freund quickly planned an archeological dig of the area and started recruiting scientists, archeologists and volunteers from Israel, Lithuania, and Jewish communities around the world.
“The goal is to ensure that the Jewish heritage of Vilnius is understood as an important and inseparable part of the Lithuanian and Jewish heritage. It’s important that the site be preserved forever, for the benefit of everyone who arrives there in the future,” Drs. Seligman and Freund promised. Nearly two years on, the researchers have uncovered some ground-breaking new evidence of Jewish history in the region.
At the site of the Great Synagogue, researchers in 2016 unearthed part of the buildings for the first time in decades. Treating the site as an archeological dig, using vast screens to sift earth and uncover artifacts, volunteers from Britain, Canada, Israel, Lithuania, and the United States revealed part of a staircase and underground passageways. As researchers continue to excavate the site, Lithuania’s government weighs plans to rebuild and memorialize part of the synagogue.

Confirming Amazing Holocaust Story

Having identified underground ruins in Vilnius, Dr. Seligman and Prof. Freund decided to use their radar equipment to explore a nearby site – the Ponar Forest (today known as Paneriai), where Jews were said to have dug an escape tunnel, using only their bare hands, under the very noses of their Nazi captors. Although 11 surviving Jews insisted that the tunnel in Ponar had saved their lives, over the years many people became skeptical of this fantastic-sounding story, dismissing it as a myth. Without the physical evidence of the tunnel, whose location had long been lost, even some sympathetic people had trouble believing the survivors' account.
“I took them seriously but not literally,” Prof. Freund explained of survivors’ insistence that this tunnel was fact. “Without physical evidence, we have a lot of people that are skeptical about all of these stories. They want to see the evidence.” In 2004, the entrance to the tunnel had been discovered, but the tunnel itself could not be mapped. Prof. Freund and his team set out to provide that evidence and let the world know what occurred in the infamous Ponar Forest outside Vilnius.
Between 1941 and 1944, Nazi SS soldiers and Lithuanian collaborators shot 100,000 people, including 70,000 Jews, in the Ponar forest, throwing their bodies into hastily dug pits. In 1944, hoping to hide evidence of war crimes, the Nazis tried to erase evidence of the massacre. They brought in Jewish prisoners from the Stutthof concentration camp. With their legs in chains, these prisoners were made to dig up the mass graves, exhume the bodies, and burn them. Called the “Burning Brigade”, it was obvious to these prisoners that once their work was completed they, too, would be killed and all evidence of their murders erased.
One prisoner, Isaac Dogim, was moving decomposing bodies when he recognized the necklace he’d given his wife for their wedding on one of the corpses. He’d uncovered her body and was now tasked with burning her remains. Horrified, Mr. Dogim planned an audacious escape.
Each night, the prisoners were kept in one of the pits that had until recently been occupied by the murdered Jews. The work of burning the bodies went on for months, and for 76 nights, Mr. Dogim and his fellow prisoners dug a 112-foot long secret tunnel ten feet underground, leading from the pit they slept in. They used their bare hands and crude tools for the digging. Finally, on the night of April 15, 1944, 40 prisoners filed of the chains around their legs and escaped through the tunnel. The tunnel was narrow, just wide enough for one man at a time. Guards quickly discovered the escape, and shot most of the prisoners, but 11 managed to escape into the surrounding forest.
Using Electrical Resistivity Tomography, a way of examining underground structures used in mineral and oil exploration, Prof. Freund, Dr. Seligman and their team found the tunnel and its exit. (The tunnel entrance had been discovered by a Lithuanian archaeologist in 2004.) “It is a very important discovery, because this is another proof of resistance of those who were about to die,” explains Markas Zingeris, Director of the Vilna Gaon Jewish State Museum in Vilnius.

Today’s Threat in Lithuania

Today, the Jewish legacy of Lithuania is under siege. Some members of Lithuania’s 5,000 strong Jewish community have reacted with alarm at Government plans to rebuild part of the Great Synagogue complex, fearing the plans are an excuse to turn the site into a real estate development.
The Lithuanian government is planning to build a new convention center on the site of Vilnius’ old Jewish Cemetery.
The Lithuanian government is planning to build a new Vilnius Convention Center on the site of Vilnius’ old Jewish Cemetery. The cemetery, which opened in the 15th century and is the final resting site of thousands of Jews, including some of the greatest Jewish scholars who made Vilnius known as the “Jerusalem of Lithuania”, has been repeatedly desecrated since World War Two. The proposed convention center would be the final insult that erased all trace of this massive cemetery.
During Soviet rule of Lithuania, the gravestones were all stolen, many used as building materials in buildings in and around Vilnius. (In 2015, Lithuania’s Chief Rabbi called on the Evangelical Reformed Church in Vilnius to remove the 30 foot long staircase constructed of Jewish headstones that leads to the main entrance of the denomination’s largest church in the capital.) A sports arena was built in the middle of the cemetery on a base that includes human remains. Now, with European Union funding, the Lithuanian government has announced the $25 million center will sit atop the cemetery.
Local residents have started a petition to get the location of the proposed convention site changed. (Click here to sign the petition.)
As the Jewish history in Vilnius is increasingly erased and forgotten, the efforts of Israeli, American and other archeologists to uncover and preserve Jewish history is more important than ever.

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