It’s not often you get to be the first (I hope) to catch an error on Google. So when I found a Google error this morning, I though it was so cool.

I wanted to learn more about the Fast of Esther, so I Googled, “Fast of Esther”.

I was quite (pleasantly) surprised to see the big box on top of the results with the date information on the fast. I guess that’s a new Google feature.

But what surprised me more, was that it said that the fast began yesterday evening, particularly, when right below it, in Wikipedia, it says the fast began at sunrise this morning.

This is what Wikipedia has to say about the fast:

 The Fast of Esther (Ta’anit Ester, Hebrew: תַּעֲנִית אֶסְתֵּר‎) is a Jewish fast from dawn until dusk on Purim eve, commemorating the three-day fast observed by the Jewish people in the story of Purim. It is a common misconception that this fast was accepted by the Jews for all future generations during the time of Esther, as it is stated in the Book of Esther: They had established for themselves and their descendants the matters of the fasts and their cry (Esther 9:31). This verse actually refers to the four fasts which relate to mourning for the Temple. Rather, the first mention of this fast is a Minhag that is referenced in the Gaonic period.^[1] Recently, Mitchell First has written a detailed study of the origin of the fast and provided an explanation for its arisal in the Gaonic period.^[2]

The Fast is observed on the 13th day of the Hebrew month of Adar. If the date of the Fast of Esther falls on Shabbat (Saturday), the fast is instead observed on the preceding Thursday, as is the case in 2010, 2011, 2013 and 2014.^{[citation needed]}

As the Fast of Esther is not one of the four public fasts ordained by the Prophets, the laws concerning its observance are more lenient; pregnant women, nursing mothers, and those who are weak are not required to observe it.^[3] (Note: in certain situations a weak, sick, or pregnant person is not required or even permitted to observe any Jewish fast day; a rabbi should be consulted to determine the law for one’s specific situation.^{[citation needed]})

Misconceptions

It is generally accepted in the rabbinic tradition that the original three-day “Fast of Esther” mentioned in chapter 4 of Book of Esther occurred on the 14th, 15th, and 16th days of Nisan, these being the eve and first two days ofPassover.^[4] They fasted on Passover because Esther reasoned it would be better to fast on one Pesach lest they all be destroyed and thus never be able to observe the holiday in the future. The 13th of Adar was a fast day for the warriors while going out to battle, as it is believed to have been customary to fast during the battle in order to gain divine favor. Because fasting during Passover would be inappropriate in almost all circumstances, the “Fast of Esther” became attached to the eve of Purim, the 13th of Adar.^[4]

Dates observer

The Gregorian date for the Fast of Esther in 2013 is Thursday, February 21st, from sunrise until nightfall.

How do you contact Google to let them know they’ve made a mistake?

[Editor's note: This is a blog post that we cross-posted into News]

Police have agreed to allow the niece of American comedian Sarah Silverman will be allowed to attend a women’s Megillah reading at the Western Wall despite being banned from the site.

Hallel Abramowitz Silverman, 17, was one of 10 female worshipers arrested for wearing prayer shawls during a women’s Rosh Chodesh prayer service at the Western Wall earlier this month. Her mother, Rabbi Susan Abramowitz Silverman, also was arrested.

The women were released on condition that they not visit the site for 15 days and were required by police to sign a document agreeing to the condition.

After realizing she would not be able to attend the Women of the Wall organization’s women’s Megillah reading at the Kotel because of the restriction, the younger Silverman went to the Old City of Jerusalem police station and presented a letter to request an exception to the ban. She arrived with her lawyer and her father.

Police agreed to allow her to visit the Western Wall on Shushan Purim in Jerusalem  Sunday night and Monday, one day after the Purim holiday is celebrated in most other places.

“I wasn’t going to sign, but my mom had a flight leaving in a few hours, and we were afraid there would be complications and she would miss her flight,” she told Haaretz. “Plus, I was nervous. After all, I am 17 years old and I was being held in a police station.

“I was feeling so pressured, I didn’t realize it would mean missing the Megillah,” she told the newspaper. “If I had really understood this, I don’t know if I would have signed.”

As is my longtime custom, I went to שילה הקדומה Shiloh HaKeduma, Tel Shiloh to pray on Rosh Chodesh Adar.  Considering the problems Prime Minister Binyamin Netanyahu is having constructing/negotiating his latest coalition, maybe he should go to Tel Shiloh, site of the Mishkan, Tabernacle to pray, too. 

Biblical Chana prayed in Shiloh for a son who would be the national and spiritual leader of the Jewish People to establish monarchy.  So, considering the state of our nation today, Shiloh is the perfect location for prayers.

The Jewish Month of Adar is known as a time of change, reversals, bad to good, winter to spring.

Yes, I was amazed at how richly the trees were in bloom and how beautifully the wildflowers had begun to cover the ground.  Last month, Rosh Chodesh Shvat, we saw green and brown, but now we also see red, pink and white.

Shiloh has been the location for prayer since Joshua made it the capital of the Jewish Nation after the Exodus from Egypt.  The Mishkan, Tabernacle, which had been a mobile synagogue during the forty years we wandered the desert, was set up in Shiloh and stayed there for 369 years.

That location, a large flat area to the north is now being excavated by archaeologists.

Wherever you look you can see signs of ancient building and construction.  Stones don’t naturally look like these.

Next Rosh Chodesh is Nissan.  Women are invited to join us for Women’s Rosh Chodesh Prayers.

New and old observation towers, plus ancient ruins at Tel Shiloh

Visit Shiloh Musings.

(((CLICK BELOW TO HEAR AUDIO)))

Yishai and Malkah broadcast away from our Mt. of Olives studio and start off by talking about the major differences between life in the US and in Israel. They discuss celebrating Purim in the US and end the segment with a discussion about American President Barack Obama’s upcoming trip to Israel.

Yishai Fleisher on Twitter: @YishaiFleisher
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We first met Shlomie (name and some details have been changed) over 20 years ago. He davens in our shul, and he and my husband share a love of photography. Over time, we got to know each other well.

Every year, Shlomie would come to our house for Purim seudah. He would wear a costume and bring his famous chocolate Oznei Haman (Hamantashen). Together with the rest of us, he would don a funny clown’s hat and we would pose for our annual family Purim photograph. He considers himself an uncle to our children, and they have adopted him as well.

Shlomie had a history of health issues. There was a point in time when he was relatively young and the doctors did not have too much hope for him to survive. As he lay in his hospital bed, he overheard the doctors discussing his helpless case. With Hashem’s blessing, he proved them wrong.

Shlomie was always full of emunah. He always wore a smile and was friendly to everyone. He loved learning Torah and had recently taken on a new chavrutah, a young yeshiva student learning in our neighborhood.

A few months ago, Shlomie was tested again. It was late Friday night when he tripped and found himself on the floor of his living room, unable to get up. As no one could hear him, he spent the night on the cold floor. He unsuccessfully tried to get up on Shabbat morning. He lay there all of Shabbat, Sunday and Monday. There was a bottle of water on the floor nearby, and he was able to reach it and drink some of it. He had no food to eat, and he could not reach his much-needed medicines.

On Tuesday, a neighbor began to wonder if Shlomie was okay. Having not seen him for a few days, she called for help. An emergency crew showed up at the apartment building, and broke open the windows. They found a very disoriented, but very alive, Shlomie lying helplessly on the floor.

The doctors could not believe he had survived this nightmare – but once again he had. We went to visit him in the hospital, and he amazed us with his optimistic attitude. He did not feel sorry for himself; rather, he told me how thankful he was that Hashem was still watching over him. He told me how he was waiting to feel stronger so he could begin several projects he had long been planning to undertake. Each one involved completing a cycle of Torah learning. Instead of looking at what he just experienced as a setback, he saw it as an opportunity for advancement.

I told him that he inspired me with his strong faith and positive outlook. He smiled, saying, “Debbie, I inspire myself.”

May Hashem continue to watch over him and give him the good health and strength he needs to fulfill his dreams of continued Torah learning. May he continue to inspire others as he inspires himself.

A traditional Purim in Hong Kong requires an obligatory visit to Pottinger Street in the bustling Central District. Also known locally as Stone Step Street, Pottinger Street is more of a steep, irregularly paved pedestrian stone path (with steps too small for Western feet) than a street. My children run ahead up the stone slabs as I carefully balance my size nine feet on the thin, uneven stairs. My five year old stumbles but quickly recovers and catches up to the big kids.

There is a cacophony of bartering and city sounds surrounding us. And while the buzz of Cantonese is expected, sounds of Hebrew, French and English also fill the air. My children bounce from stall to stall, greeting their friends on similar Purim missions. I have counted 11 children from the Jewish community though we have been here for less than 30 seconds.

It is not mere coincidence nor fate that has brought us to totter together on these indiscriminately paved concrete slabs the day before Purim, it is rather the work of our own procrastination and Asian efficiency. In Hong Kong, similar to other cities in Asia, markets are often segregated by the types of wares they specialize in. For sneakers, there is Sneaker Street, for computers the Computer Centre, for games the Gaming Center and for aquariums and related goods, the Goldfish Market. There is a flower market, a street of only fabric shops, one of only costume jewelry and another of only beads. And at some point in time, long predating our arrival in Hong Kong nearly a decade ago, Pottinger Street became the costume cornucopia of Central. Synthetic wigs in every color and style hang from above, stalls are crammed with thousands of props, costumes are bunched together on racks and rubber masks line the walls.

Between haggling with stall owners and negotiating with my children, I tell them the stories of Purim from my childhood. They have heard them all and can likely retell them as well, but this retelling is all part of our tradition. A favorite, of course, is the story of my brother’s post-Megillah reading fall that necessitated five stitches in his knee. The highlight of the story not being his unfortunate hospital visit, but the image of my Synagogue’s chazzan, dressed as a surgeon, now speckled with real blood on his full operating theater gear, running by carrying the patient to my parents’ car.

To me, Purim-costume-past also conjures up a secret, unmet childhood longing. I coveted those leftover Halloween flimsy, tie-on, extremely flammable costumes that came neatly folded and incased in plastic that other kids were allowed to don. Those costumes, with their lingering scent of toxins and plastic, spoke of seventies and eighties pop-culture. But my parents were unimpressed and, although secular, when it came to Purim, they were costume traditionalists and Purim theme purists. I am pretty certain that I was about 12 different renditions of Queen Esther, one every year until I was finally old enough to protest. And, of course, my mother sewed my classic costumes from neatly planned patterns. While I am more of a pen than a pincushion type of person, I do now appreciate the process.

Photo Credit Linda Cheung

When it came to my own parents and their friends though, Purim was decidedly a children’s holiday. Aside from the chazzan and the rabbi, few adults dared to don costumes. I wonder if there is any irony to the fact that many of the adults in my community seemingly declined to fully engage in a holiday that speaks to a theme of assimilation. Likewise, while many of my friends grew to relish the costume tradition, they simply referred to Purim as the Jewish Halloween.

In Hong Kong, however, the return of the humidity also invariably signals the joy of Purim for many. As I stand in the courtyard of the Ohel Leah Synagogue, which itself is in costume this year, complete with a clown hat, I watch the parade of costumes swirl around me in the heavy spring air. Adults and children alike, decked in unmistakably Pottinger Street purchases, happily chatter outside as they await the notoriously late start to the Megillah reading. I sometimes struggle to recognize even my own friends. There are pop culture connected costumes, a strong showing for Disney characters generally speaking (with an overabundance of Disney princesses, a phase that fortunately dissipates by age 7), historical figures, career-themed costumes and creative interpretations of favorite foods. Not surprisingly, a couple of giant homemade iPods wander past. My fellow last minute shoppers and I nod in approval at our final decisions and purchases.

Question: Why do we read four special Torah sections between Purim and Pesach. Also, why do we call each of the four Shabbatot on which we read these sections by a special name – such as Shabbat Shekalim, Shabbat Zachor etc.?

Celia Gluck
(Via E-Mail)

Answer: The four sections you refer to – the arba parshiyot – are read starting from the Shabbat preceding the first of Adar through the Shabbat preceding the first of Nissan. This year, the 25th of Shevat, Shabbat Parshat Mishpatim, was Shabbat Shekalim; Shabbat Parshat Tetzaveh on the 9th of Adar was Shabbat Zachor; the 23rd of Adar, Shabbat Parshat Vayakhel-Pekudei, was Shabbat Parah; and Rosh Chodesh Nissan, Shabbat Parshat Vayikra, will be Shabbat HaChodesh.

There are additional Shabbatot referred to by special names, such as Shabbat Nachamu after Tisha B’Av; Shabbat Shuva (also known as Shabbat Teshuvah) between Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur; Shabbat Shira, the name given to the Shabbat on which we read Parshat Beshalach; and Shabbat Hagadol, which is always the Shabbat preceding Pesach.

On these Shabbatot we do not read a special Torah section in addition to the parshat ha’shavua, but their names denote a significant factor distinguishing them from a “regular” Shabbat. For example, Shabbat Shira is named such because it the Shabbat on which we read the Shirat Hayam – the songs of praise sung at the Red Sea by the Jewish people led by Moses and Miriam.

And now to the arba parshiyot. The gaon, Rabbi Shlomo Yosef Zevin, zt”l, writes as follows in his HaMoadim BaHalacha (Jerusalem, 1956, p. 188): “The unique importance of these parshiyot is found in rabbinic literature. Even before the parshiyot of the Torah were divided among the Shabbatot of the year, the requirement [to read] the arba parshiyot was already noted [Megillah 29a]. However, in both the Mishnah and the Tosefta we find no mention of the names of the weekly parshiyot [nor the requirement to read parshat ha’shavua].

“The requirement to read the Torah every Shabbat (in a congregation of ten) actually dates back to the time of Moses [Bava Kamma 82a].”

This Gemara enumerates 10 enactments of the prophet Ezra. Among them is that the Torah be read publicly every Shabbat at Mincha, as well as on Monday and Thursday. The Gemara questions this list of 10, arguing that the enactment to read the Torah on Shabbat, Monday, and Thursday dates back to Moses.

The Gemara proves (or roots) its point based on two verses. Exodus 15:22 states, “Moses brought the Children of Israel from the Red Sea and they went out toward the Desert of Shur; they traveled three days in the desert without finding water.” And Isaiah 55:1 states “Everyone who is thirsty, go for water.” “Water” is often used metaphorically to refer to Torah. The verse makes evident that going for three days without water is not desirable and, hence, we learn that we should read the Torah, i.e. “water,” thrice weekly so that three days never pass without Torah.

In light of this point, the Gemara backtracks and clarifies that reading from the Torah began with Moses and states that Ezra’s enactment was merely an “upgrade” – Moses required that three verses be read while Ezra enacted that we must read 10 verses and call up three people to the Torah, a kohen, a levi, and yisrael.

Rabbi Zevin continues: “Dividing the Torah reading into 54 [weekly] parshiyot came at a much later time [than Ezra]. We find (in Megillah 29b) that the bnei ma’arava in Eretz Yisrael, [as opposed to the Jews in Babylonia] used to conclude reading the entire Torah every three years.”

The Mechaber (Shulchan Aruch, Orach Chayim 669:1) clearly states that on the second day of Shemini Atzeret, we in the Diaspora read Vezot HaBeracha, the last parshah of the Torah, until its conclusion and then begin reading Parshat Bereishit until “asher bara Elokim la’asot.” (We then read, for maftir, “Bayom hashemini atzeret.”)

Since the Gemara states that the bnei ma’arava would complete the Torah once every three years, we might infer that the Jews in exile in Babylonia completed the Torah every year. The Gemara does not state this specifically, but we can derive it from two statements in the Gemara. First, R. Yirmiyah (Megillah 30b) rules that the four parshiyot’s Torah readings only cause a change in the haftarah; on the succeeding Shabbat we resume reading the usual weekly haftarah (see Rashi sv. “l’seder haftarot…”). Second, the Gemara (ibid., 31a) states that on the last day of Shemini Atzeret (Simchat Torah in the diaspora) congregations would read Vezot HaBeracha.

Thus we have answered your second question first. The arba parshiyot and the times we read them are clearly mentioned in the Mishnah (Megillah 29a) by name. Therefore the Shabbatot on which one of them is read are referred to by its name.

I know I’m going to be crucified, but if the appeal I make below helps even one girl in shidduchim, then it will be worth all the fury and outrage that shall inevitably descend upon my soon-to-be beleaguered head.

The other night, I was invited to a fascinating new shidduch initiative. Endorsed by leading rabbonim and spearheaded by a few righteous women valiantly trying to transcend the spiraling “shidduch crisis” in some small but meaningful way, the concept was to bring mothers of eligible young men together with young women looking for shidduchim (members of both groups were pre-screened and issued personal and discreet invitations by the organizers) in both a balabatish setting and a dignified way.

Everybody knows that the experiences of boys in shidduchim–in contradistinction to their female counterparts–is vastly different. This is the harsh truth: The mothers of “good boys” are bombarded with shidduch suggestions on a daily basis – a veritable barrage of resumes either flooding their fax machines or pouring out of their e-mail inboxes– while those with similarly “top” daughters sit with pinched faces anxiously waiting for the phone to ring. The disparity is bare, bold-faced and veritably heartbreaking: In the shidduch “parsha,” boys are constantly being courted and pursued, while the best girls’ resumes barely elicit a modicum of interest.

As a friend recently told me: “When my nephew was 19 and started shidduchim, he went out with 19-year-old girls. When he turned 20, he still went out with 19-year-old girls. He kept getting older, but the shidduchim that he was “redt” continued to be 19-year-old girls. Now he is 24 and baruch Hashem just got engaged –to a 19-year old girl.” Sadly, women do not have this same recourse.

To rectify this inequity, a few concerned mothers brain stormed together and concluded that “shidduch resumes” (which never even existed as a concept when I was dating 35 years ago) fail to accurately capture the essence of the person being “summed up” and often–especially in the case of the girls– get lost in the shuffle. One organizer told me: “The boys’ mothers barely give the girls’ resumes a passing glance–they are so overwhelmed by the sheer numbers coming their way–and it becomes a daunting task to sift through them. And the resumes themselves are severely limiting. Can you really get a genuine sense of who the girl is from the resume? What does it tell you about her personality, her character, her intellect, her neshoma? It is demeaning to reduce a girl to a few sentences.”

The rationale underlying the new shidduch initiative was this: If eligible girls would be given personal and meaningful “face time” with prospective mother-in-laws, they would be able to present their qualities far more efficaciously than a cold and lifeless curriculum vitae.

Now for my full disclosure: I am the mother (baruch Hashem) of a great boy. He is continuously sought out, “in perpetual demand” (kinehora). I should be grateful that in shidduchim, he “wields the upper hand.” But as a woman who identifies with and feels great compassion for the throngs of girls in a parallel universe who are not being chased, I feel a little sad each time the fax machine cranks out yet another resume for my son. I know full well that there are fantastic girls out there who are his equals–perhaps even his superiors–who are NOT receiving comparable treatment. They are neither being hounded nor pursued half as vigorously as he, and they are denied the latitude of choices that he receives every day. I ache for their mothers who repeatedly call the shadchanim who never call back, but are visibly more responsive if you are the mother of a boy. Inwardly, I rail against the unfairness of it all (although the shadchanim are completely innocent of any wrongdoing, whatsoever; it is the system that is at fault– not they—the stark realities of supply and demand). Thinking of the mothers who do not have the privilege to wade through as many resumes as me, I try consciously not to revel in the continuous stream that cascade over my desk. I know how fortunate my son is, and I feel for those who aren’t.

So, when one of the extraordinary women who organized this event invited me to participate, I was actually reluctant to attend. Quite simply, there was no need. But because I like and respect this woman so much, and wanted to validate her efforts, I RSVP’d “Yes.”

“How are you going to work this?” I asked. “How are you going to ensure that all the girls get equal time? Are they not going to feel degraded? Is this process not going to end up even more demeaning than a resume?”

The organizer assured me that there would be facilitators on site who would introduce each girl to every mother. The facilitator would escort the mother to the tables where the girls sat, and be hyper-vigilant that no girl gets bypassed. I wondered how many girls would feel comfortable with this arrangement and actually show up, but as I said before, I wanted to support my acquaintance’s endeavor with my physical presence, so I went.