בְנֵי־לֹ֣וט
I'm proud of being part of an organization that gives priority to families who used to live in these gentrified neighborhoods to move back— j (@jssclvy) August 14, 2017
"If people don't want to tolerate this graffiti on the streets, maybe we shouldn't tolerate it on the internet either." #NoToHate #NoToAbuse https://t.co/qy7au7iGPc— Lea Salonga (@MsLeaSalonga) August 11, 2017
Carl Hoffman: After I had wandered around Manila's business district for more than an hour, a small, squat, gray building adorned with a large iron menorah and topped with a golden dome loomed sharply into view. Cleverly camouflaged amidst the gleaming office towers and five-star hotels, set behind a tall wrought-iron gate and protected by uniformed Filipino security guards, the Philippines' one and only synagogue stood shockingly before me. Later, at the lavishly catered kiddush, a pale, bespectacled and very young man in a black velvet kippa introduced himself to me as the Rabbi (The Rabbi! I gawked. In the middle of Manila!) and asked if this was my first visit to the shul.
"It's my first visit to any shul in more than thirty years," I said to him.
He smiled, shook my hand, and said, "Welcome home."
Bnei Lot are of an ancient origin. In the migratory tradition of Ruth begun more than two millennia ago, a remnant of David and Solomon migrated into Maritime Southeast Asia which comprises what is now Brunei, East Timor, Indonesia, Malaysia, New Zealand, Papua New Guinea, The Philippines, and Singapore, as well as Melanesia, Micronesia, and Polynesia, with a sizeable minority of Malays migrating back to their tribal allotments in Sephardic Judah, besides Terrestrial and Figurative Jordan.
