Joke: yankel is a billionaire

Harry called up his old friend Berny . Can we meet Saturday morning?
 I’m busy, Berny says. What are you up to? I go to shul now Saturday mornings!
 Really? You? You go to shul? Asks Harry.  You are an atheist! And you are on a diet, so you can’t even enjoy the Kiddish? I will tell you, says Berny. You remember our friend Yankel Miller? Rumor has it that he started to go to shul on Shabbos morning, and he became a billionaire. So I also started to go to shul on Saturday mornings. Really Berny? And what do you do in shul? You talk to G-d? You don’t even believe He exists? No, says Berny. Never! That’s what Yankel does in shul. He talks to G-d. I go to shul to talk to Yankel!

"I eat pork on Shabbat."

There is a rabbi in Israel, Yechezkel Sofer, who taught a Talmud class for

professors at Hebrew University. One particular professor, for years,

refused to come. One day the rabbi meets the professor and says to him,

"Why don't you join the class? Your colleagues come; it's in your building

right down the hall."

The professor responds, "Oh no, I don't belong in the class. We have nothing

in common."

The rabbi says, "What do you mean we have nothing in common?"

"You don't understand", says the professor, "I eat pork on Shabbat."

The rabbi says, "Only on Shabbat, not during the weekday?"

The professor says, "Specifically, spitefully on Shabbat!"

"Ah, in that case" says the rabbi, "You should come to the class.

 We do have something in common."

The professor asks, "What do you mean?"

The rabbi says, "I celebrate Shabbat and you celebrate Shabbat. I do it in a

traditional way. Your way is not so traditional."

After the conversation the Professor began attending the Talmud class.

He had re-discovered something about his Jewish identity.

This professor had survived the Holocaust as a young boy and saw Jewish life

in Europe destroyed. When he arrived in Israel, he threw his Judaism away.

He was angry with G-d and wanted to get back at Him. So he ate pork on

Shabbat. Why specifically on Shabbat? He wanted to punish G-d in the most

hurtful way. He figured that eating pork on Tuesday is one thing, but doing

it on Shabbat was really bad -because Shabbat is a holy day.

Upon reflection, the professor realized that his rebellious act showed that

he too believed in Torah and Judaism and that Shabbat was still a holy day

for him. That is why he ate pork on Shabbat. Not because Shabbat is an

ordinary day but because it's the holy day.

“Forget the brakes; fix the horn!”

An Israeli driver takes his car into the shop to have the brakes repaired.
The mechanic tells him, “It’s going to cost 6,000 shekels.”
So the car owner says to the mechanic, “Forget the brakes; fix the horn!”

Faithful Friends

One sunny Sabbath afternoon Shlomo and Moishe, two old friends, meet for the
first time in a few years. After exchanging the usual pleasantries Shlomo
says, "Moishe, people are telling me you don't go to synagogue anymore. Can
it be true? You no longer believe in God?"
Moishe looks uncomfortable and quickly changes the subject.
The next afternoon, they meet on the bench again and Shlomo persists. "You
must tell me Moishe. You don't believe in God anymore?
Moishe replies, "Here's a straight answer to your straight question: no I
don't."
Shlomo asks, "So why didn't you tell me yesterday?"
Moishe shocked to the point of disgust, exclaims, "On Shabbos?! God forbid!"

"You put him to sleep. YOU wake him up!"

The new rabbi was in the middle of a sermon when he suddenly beckoned to the
shammes to come over. The rabbi said to him, "That man in the third row is
asleep. Wake him up."
The shammes replied, "You put him to sleep. YOU wake him up!"

Year 2100: Jewish women will be lighting Shabbos candles.

Back in the mid nineties a Jewish advertising executive in New York came up with an idea.What if the New York Times - considered the world's most prestigious newspaper - listed the weekly Shabbat candle lighting time each week. Sure someone would have to pay for the space. But imagine the Jewish awareness and pride that might result from such a prominent mention of the Jewish Shabbat each week.He got in touch with a Jewish philanthropist and sold him on the idea. It cost almost two thousand dollars a week. But he did it. And for the next five years, each Friday, Jews around the world would see 'Jewish Women: Shabbat candle lighting time this Friday is .'. Eventually the philanthropist had to cut back on a number of his projects. And in June 1999, the little Shabbat notice and stopped appearing in the Friday Times. and from that week on it never appeared again.Except once.On January 1, 2000, the NY Times ran a Millennium edition. It was a special issue that featured three front pages. One had the news from January 1, 1900. The second was the actual news ofthe day, January 1, 2000. And then they had a third front page. Projecting future events of January 1, 2100. This fictional page included things like a welcome to the fifty-first state: Cuba. As well as a discussion as to whether robots should be allowed to vote. And so on. And in addition to the fascinating articles, there was one more thing. Down on the bottom of the Year 2100 front page, was the candle lighting time in New York for January 1, 2100. Nobody paid for it. It was just put in by the Times. The production manager of the New York Times - an Irish Catholic - was asked about it.His answer was right on the mark.And it speaks to the eternity of our people.And to the power of Jewish ritual."We don't know what will happen in the year 2100. It is impossible to predict the future. But of one thing you can be certain. That in the year 2100 Jewish women will be lighting Shabbos candles.

Machmud the Jew

You know there is a story told…

On his way out from shul in Jerusalem, Dan approached a young man in
Dungarees, backpack, dark skin, curly black hair -- looked Sephardi, maybe
Moroccan.

"Good Shabbos. My name is Dan Eisenblatt. Would you like to eat at my
house tonight?"

The young man's face broke in an instant from a worried look to a
smile.

"Yeah, thanks. My name is Machi."

Together they walked out of the shul. A few minutes later they were all
standing around Dan's Shabbos table. Dan noticed his guest fidgeting and
leafing through his songbook, apparently looking for something. He asked
with a smile, "Is there a song you want to sing? I can help if you're not
sure about the tune."

The guest's face lit up. "There is a song I'd like to sing, but I
can't find it here. I really liked what we sang in the synagogue tonight. What
was it called? Something 'dodi.'"

Dan paused for a moment, on the verge of saying, "It's not usually
sung at the table," but then he caught himself. "If that's what the kid
wants," he thought, "what's the harm?" Aloud he said, "You mean Lecha
Dodi.Wait, let me get you a siddur."

Once they had sung Lecha Dodi, the young man resumed his silence
until after the soup, when Dan asked him, "Which song now?" The guest looked
embarrassed, but after a bit of encouragement said firmly, "I'd really like
to sing Lecha Dodi again."

Dan was not really all that surprised when, after the chicken, he
asked his guest what song now, and the young man said, "Lecha Dodi, please."
Dan almost blurted out, "Let's sing it a little softer this time, the
neighbors are going to think I'm nuts." He finally said, "Don't you want to
sing something else?"

His guest blushed and looked down. "I just really like that one," he
mumbled. "Just something about it - I really like it."

In all, they must have sung "The Song" eight or nine times. Dan
wasn't sure -- he lost count. Later Dan asked, "Where are you from?" The boy
looked pained, then stared down at the floor and said softly, "Ramallah."

Dan's was sure he'd heard the boy say "Ramallah," a large Arab city
on the West Bank. Quickly he caught himself, and then realized that he must
have said Ramleh, an Israeli city. Dan said, "Oh, I have a cousin there. Do
you know Ephraim Warner? He lives on Herzl Street."

The young man shook his head sadly. "There are no Jews in Ramallah."

Dan gasped. He really had said "Ramallah"! His thoughts were racing.
Did he just spend Shabbos with an Arab? He told the boy, "I'm sorry, I'm a
bit confused. And now that I think of it, I haven't even asked your full
name. What is it, please?"

The boy looked nervous for a moment, then squared his shoulders and
said quietly, "Machmud Ibn-esh-Sharif."

Dan stood there speechless. What could he say? Machmud broke the
silence hesitantly: "I was born and grew up in Ramallah. I was taught to
hate my Jewish oppressors, and to think that killing them was heroism. But I
always had my doubts. I mean, we were taught that the Sunna, the tradition,
says, 'No one of you is a believer until he desires for his brother that
which he desires for himself.' I used to sit and wonder, Weren't the Yahud
(Jews) people, too? Didn't they have the right to live the same as us? If
we're supposed to be good to everyone, how come nobody includes Jews in
that? "I put these questions to my father, and he threw me out of the house.
By now my mind was made up: I was going to run away and live with the Yahud,
until I could find out what they were really like. I snuck back into the
house that night, to get my things and my backpack.

My mother caught me in the middle of packing. I told her that I wanted
to go live with the Jews for a while and find out what they're really like
and maybe I would even want to convert.

She was turning more and more pale while I said all this, and I
thought she was angry, but that wasn't it. Something else was hurting her
and she whispered gently, 'You don't have to convert. You already are a
Jew.'

"I was shocked. My head started spinning, and for a moment I couldn't
speak. Then I stammered, 'What do you mean?'

'In Judaism,' she told me, 'the religion goes according to the mother. I'm
Jewish, so that means you're Jewish.'

"I never had any idea my mother was Jewish. I guess she didn't want
anyone to know. She whispered suddenly, 'I made a mistake by marrying an
Arab man. In you, my mistake will be redeemed.'

"My mother always talked that way, poetic-like. She went and dug out
some old documents, and handed them to me: things like my birth certificate
and her old Israeli ID card, so I could prove I was a Jew. I've got them
here, but I don't know what to do with them.

"My mother hesitated about one piece of paper. Then she said, 'You may
as well take this. It is an old photograph of my grand-parents which was
taken when they went visiting the grave of some great ancestor of ours.'
"Now I have traveled here to Israel. I'm just trying to find out where I
belong."

Dan gently put his hand on Machmud's shoulder. Machmud looked up,
scared and hopeful at the same time. Dan asked, "Do you have the photo
here?"

The boy's face lit up. ""Sure! I always carry it with me." He reached
in his backpack and pulled out an old, tattered envelope.

When Dan read the gravestone inscription, he nearly dropped the photo.
He rubbed his eyes to make sure. There was no doubt. This was a grave in the
old cemetery in Tzfat, and the inscription identified it as the grave of the
great Kabbalist and tzaddik Rabbi Shlomo Alkabetz.

Dan's voice quivered with excitement as he explained to Machmud who
his ancestor was. "He was a friend of the Arizal, a great Torah scholar, a
tzaddik, a mystic. And, Machmud, your ancestor wrote that song we were
singing all Shabbos: Lecha Dodi!"

This time it was Machmud's turn to be struck speechless. Dan extended
his trembling hand and said, "Welcome home, Machmud."

Two astronauts land on Mars - Joke

Two astronauts land on Mars
Their mission: to check whether there is oxygen on the planet.
'Give me the box of matches,' says one.'Either it burns and there is oxygen, or nothing happens.'
He takes the box, and is ready to strike a match when, out of the blue, a Martian appears waving all his arms...
'No, no, don't!'
The two guys look at each other, worried. Could there be an unknown explosive gas on Mars?
Still, he takes another match... and...
A crowd of hysterical Martians are coming, all waving their arms: 'No, no, don't do that!'
One of the astronauts says: 'This looks serious. What are they afraid of? Nonetheless, we're here for Science, to know if man can breathe on Mars'.
So he strikes a match - which flames up, burns down, and.... nothing happens.
So he turns to the Martians and asks: 'Why did you want to prevent us from striking a match?'
The leader of the Martians says: 'It's Shabbos'! (Sabbath)