I use the word “appeared” here hesitantly. Something I have learned from the taxi drivers here is that using appearance as a basis for assessing religious piety or commitment can be very misleading and inaccurate. Yet despite these reservations, I felt that the Kotel was a perfect place to work on Ahavat Yisrael [loving all types of Jews]. As I looked around, I tried to reflect on the diversity and continuum of Jewish commitment and expression that was around me, and to realize that all of these individuals had come, just as I had, to the Kotel seeking to enhance their connection with Hashem. The contemporary disunity among the Jewish people, even (or perhaps especially) among different groups within Orthodoxy, is disquieting. This is something I will need to reflect on more and try to instill within myself a greater sense of Ahavat Yisrael.

I am spending Shabbat in Ma’ale Adumim – I haven’t been there yet and am looking forward to experiencing the community.

Photos (including full-size originals) can be viewed and downloaded here.

Wishing you a great summer!

About a month ago, I went with some fellow students on a Shabbaton of sorts to Kochav Yaakov. Kochav Yaakov is a settlement north of Jerusalem consisting of a diverse mix of residents that span the spectrum of observant Judaism in Israel. It was founded in 1984 and today has approximately 380 families. I stayed with a very nice family. I attended a very interesting Kabbalat Shabbat / Maariv prayer service on the outskirts of the Yishuv, where a lone house stood with a small landscaped area around it. Together various residents and guests of the Yishuv sang, danced, and prayed as the sun set, illuminating the clouds and sky with beautiful shades of red. The bare desert lay in front of us, with what I believe was a Arab settlement over the hill to our left. After having dinner at my hosts, we all met up again and ventured over to a Chasidish Tish with Rabbi Kornreich (the local chief rabbi) in Tel Tzion, an adjacent community. After Shacharit, we all met up for lunch with a doctor who is an alumni of my Yeshiva who lives in the Yishuv. It was incredible to see an example of how the Jewish people have transformed the desert into beautiful, habitable communities. I am told that the flowers and foliage around the community are sustained by small “drip”-based water tubes. Kochav Yaakov was “established on the value of Jewish unity” according to their website, and such value was quite highly evident in the interactions I had there.

Last Shabbat, I went to Hashmonaim to spend Shabbat with Rabbi Ari Solomont and family. Hashmonaim is a Yishuv between Yerushalayim and Tel Aviv, near Modi’in. It is a beautiful religious-zionist community with nice large homes and a large percentage of English-speaking Olim. It felt very much like suburban North America with an Israeli aesthetic. Most of the other guests at the Solomonts were recent high-school graduates who are studying here for some time before continuing on to university (as is the practice) and it was interesting to hear their perspectives. I thoroughly enjoyed this Shabbat, and after Shabbat ended, on Saturday night, I was able to hear a lecture by Rabbi Herschel Shachter, Rosh Yeshiva (dean) of the Rabbi Isaac Elchanan Theological Seminary (RIETS) of Yeshiva University in New York. He spoke on the subject of Purim, drawing on a vast array of sources. He is, according to a Rabbi of mine, one of the leading American rabbis of our generation, and it was highly fortuitous that he happened to be speaking in Hashmonaim that night.

About three weeks ago, we attended the funeral of Rabbi Noah Weinberg. Rabbi Weinberg was founder and Rosh Yeshiva of Aish HaTorah, one of the foremost Jewish outreach organizations in the world, and an organization that has affected thousands of Jews though their Jewish learning programs, Israel activism training, and their very popular Aish.com website among others. The eulogies were delivered from the stairs at entrance of a Shul in the Kiryat Sanz neighborhood of Jerusalem. I was quite an emotional event, where seemingly thousands of people gathered.

On this past Wednesday, we went on a Tiyul (tour/excursion) in the area to the northwest of Yerushalayim. We toured the area where Operation Nachshon, the 1948 military operation to stop the Arab blockade that prevented supply convoys from reaching Jerusalem, took place. This was a crucial corridor to the northeast of the city, surrounded by 40 Arab towns. The success of this mission facilitated the inclusion of West Jerusalem in the 1948 borders of the State of Israel (the Old City and East Jerusalem not having been captured until the Six Day War in June 1967). The area has become Castel National Park, a commemoration, and includes the trenches from the battles. We then walked along a trail in the hills in the area. It was incredible to be able to see the city of Jerusalem from a neighboring hilltop in the Mivaseret Tzion area – the Jerusalem Forest lay in front of us, behind it Har Nof, and then the other western neighborhoods of the city were visible, including the huge bridge that will be part of the light rail transit project.

 

The Chief Rabbi and the OU National Convention

A little over two weeks ago, the Orthodox Union (OU) held its annual National Convention in the Ramada hotel in Jerusalem, which happens to be a few minute walk from where I am studying. On the Thursday during the convention, I walked over to hear Rabbi Jonathan Sacks, Chief Rabbi of the British Commonweath, give a keynote address at the convention. Rabbi Sacks was asked to articulate a “mission statement for the 21st century” for the Orthodox Union – and by extension, the “centrist” or “modern” Orthodox community overall.

Rabbi Sacks set up his proposed “mission statement” by quoting a Biblical verse (Bamidbar/Numbers 13:19). When Moshe instructs the spies that are sent into the Land of Israel, one of the attributes they are told to look for is whether the people live in open or fortified (walled) cities. Rabbi Sacks explained that if the Canaanites lived in fortified cities, it would indicate that they feel weak and feel in need of the protection of the city walls. By contrast, if they lived in open cities, it would indicate that they feel strong and do not feel in need of the protection that walls would afford. Rabbi Sacks concluded that, in his estimation, it is preferable to live in open cities (perhaps, only if one feels that it is relatively safe to do so), and he compared living in open cities to the ideological position of “centrist” or “modern” Orthodoxy, which takes on the challenge of interacting with the non-Jewish world, within the boundaries of Jewish law and belief.

Rabbi Sacks then formulated a three faceted mission statement based around the Mishniac dictum that states that “…the world stands on three things: on Torah, on Divine worship, and on acts of loving-kindness. ” (Avot 1:2).  He spoke of an ideal contemporary Jewish community that is strong in its learning of and adherence to Torah so that its members are able to live in open cities. He also emphasized the tremendous importance of dedicating a significant portion of one’s time or resources toward acts of Tzedakah and Chesed (kindness) to others in need. I am afraid I do not recall as much about this part of the address (the actual “mission statement” ironically) as compared to the prefatory material (which touched upon my fascination with the sociology of contemporary Judaism), and for fear of misquoting Rabbi Sacks more than I may already have, I will not venture to further elaborate.

The next morning I again returned to the Ramada to hear Chief Rabbi Sacks speak as part of a Yeshiva University sponsored event. The audience consisted largely of recent high school graduates who were studying in Israel during their “gap year” before continuing on to university (much as I am doing prior to the next stage of my life). Thus Rabbi Sacks mostly dealt with the challenges that Jewishly-commited students will face when confronted for the first time with the intellectual and, even more so, the social pressures of university life. Sacks gave a passionate appeal that students take on a Jewish leadership role both on campuses and in their lives in general, in order to help address the monumental threat that intermarriage and assimilation poses to Jewish “continuity”.

I returned to the OU conference that evening during Shabbat after dinner and had the good fortune to find myself talking with a member of the staff of the OU’s Jewish Leadership Initiative on Campus, an organization that partners with Hillels to address the needs of observant students on campuses across North America. Such an organization on campus at UBC would have been incredible during my undergraduate degree. Later, the convention had a very uplifting Oneg Shabbat with singing and food. It was also great to see some of the people I used to work with as part of NCSY, which is a program of the OU.

Tragedy in Mumbai

Two Tuesdays ago, in the afternoon, I experienced a powerful and emotional event. We walked across Jerusalem to attend a part of the funeral for the Chabad  couple who were killed in the Mumbai terrorist attacks. Rabbi Gavriel and Rivka Holtzberg worked as Chabad emissaries in Mumbai, serving three Kosher meals a day, providing Shabbat hospitality and Jewish education, and a myriad of other services to Jewish travelers. At the funeral one of the speakers spoke of how the Holtzberg’s entire lives were dedicated to serving the Jewish people, sacrificing their own time to provide kosher food and an open non-judgemental Jewish connection for all different kinds of Jews who found themselves in Mumbai.  The funeral began in Kfar Chabad, between Jerusalem and Tel Aviv, then proceeded to the Chabad Yeshiva in Jerusalem (where we attended), and after that proceeded to the Mount of Olives cemetery to bury the couple. I am not sure how to conclude this paragraph in an adequate manner to properly convey the right sort of emotion so I will leave it as such.

Some assorted updates:

The Shabbat before last, I travelled to Efrat – about an hour bus ride from Yerushalayim – to spend Shabbat with my cousins who are Olim (=”one who makes Aliyah”) from England. It was really nice to spend Shabbat with family here. I didn’t get to really see Efrat, but I will most definitely be there again and will attempt to get a greater feel for it then. Last Wednesday, we participated in a guided Tiyul of Ir David (”The City of David”) and the Kotel Tunnels. While I have seen both sites several times before, the particular tour guide we had was highly knowledgeable and provided some fascinating insights into the history of Yerushalayim vis-à-vis the various biblical periods. This last Shabbat, I spent Shabbat in Yerushalayim. As I looked out the window from the 7th floor apartment of the family I was staying with, I could see a magnificent view of the city. It was an awe-inspiring feeling to know that I am looking over the Jewish city, where myriads of people are also partaking in a Shabbat dinner with family and friends.

That’s all for now. As Hanukah is coming up, I figure I will have much more to write about in the coming weeks.

During Chol HaMoed, I travelled with some of the guys from the Yeshiva to Beitar Illit – a Hareidi (”Ultra-Orthodox”, though that term is generally not preferred by the Orthodox community in my experience) settlement in the “West Bank”. Wikipedia claims (based on official Israeli statistics) that it is the fastest growing city in Israel with the highest birthrate – with a present population of 32,000 that is expected to more than triple by 2020. We went to Beitar to have lunch in the Sukkah of one of our rabbis. We took a bulletproof bus that had separate seating for men and women – an interesting experience in itself. Beitar reminded me of Har Nof in terms of aesthetics, though it felt newer. From Rabbi Lerner’s Sukkah, it was possible to see the neighborhing Arab town – quite close – with the small security fence that political leftists make a huge fuss about (the so-called “Apartheid Wall”). During Chol HaMoed, I also was able to reconnect with some friends that I hadn’t seen in some time and become more comfortable moving around Yerushalayim (and enjoy some of the gastronomic offerings). We saw a stunning light show of sorts at Migdal David (the Tower of David in the Old City) depicting the history of the city of Yerushalayim.

Simchat Torah was spent back at the Yeshiva. During the Hakafot (dancing with the Sifre Torah) on the morning of Shmini Atzeret, we joined the rest of the Beit HaKerem community, where we danced in Kikar Denia (Denmark Square) a few blocks away. It was quite nice to see that kind of communal unity and public celebration. However, I really enjoyed the second day, where only the smaller group of students who keep two days (i.e. North Americans who do not intend to stay long term in Israel) had our own prayer services and meals – a much more personal experience.

This past Shabbat, we travelled south to Dimona for a Shabbaton. Dimona is a town of roughly 40,000 people in Negev desert. It is a development town – meaning it was established in the 1950s to encourage migration from the overcrowded urban centers to other areas of Israel. Such towns are generally among the most economically disadvantaged in Israel, with high levels of unemployment. According to one of the community’s rabbis, Dimona has a mixed population (Ashkenazi, Sefardi, secular, religious) and efforts by the rabbinate and Judaic institutions in the city to increase the religiosity among its residents have been so successful that it has become a movement of sorts. The sociology major in me would like to explore whether there is a possible correlation between poverty and increased religious commitment/involvement in a given region. Dimona is also, so I am told, adjacent to the site of Israel’s nuclear program. Jokes concerning the potential radioactive content of the food we ate and other nuclear-related humor were plentiful during the weekend. Even the logo of the “guest house” (i.e. high-end youth hostel) we stayed in resembled a nuclear explosion – though this could have been merely coincidental.

On Sunday following the Shabbaton, we went hiking with a tour guide (and former student of Shapell’s/Darche Noam) in the Ein Ovdat canyon. The guide explained the geological, political, and theological features and significance of the canyon. Ein Ovdat functions as the southern border, according to one of two opinions, of what was the Biblical Land of Israel. In the afternoon, we travelled into Be’er Sheva – the most populous town in the Negev – and took a tour of an archeological site, Tel Sheva, that was once an urban center and important outpost at various points in and around Biblical times. 

I have posted a variety of photos below. Please be aware that some of the photos were taken by Benji Cheirif (noted in the comments below the photos). He’s an awesome photographer and his work can be viewed here.

 

 

On Sunday, I spent the day wandering the streets of Jerusalem with my camera (a Nikon D80 dSLR with SB-600 speedlight and a 18-70mm Nikkor DX lens). I started off at the Shuk Arba Minim (the market for the Four Species for Sukkot) that was set up on Yaffa Street just west of Machane Yehudah (if I remember correctly). There were a significant number of vendors selling various Lulavim, Etrogim and the like. Each time I would make eye contact with a seller, he would begin trying to sell me his offerings. More times than not, the seller would talk to me in English, I suppose able to recognize me as a non-native.

I then ventured over to the Shuk, Machane Yehudah, with more of a goal of taking photos of the colourful scenes than making a purchase. I met an overly friendly vendor selling his art and other nicknacks.

I then made my way toward the Mea Shearim / Geula area, the streets were crowded with people buying and selling Arba Minim (Four Species), Sukkah decorations, and building materials for constructing Sukkahs. I picked up an inexpensive tape measure that, in addition to inches, has markings for the Biblical/Mishnaic measurement units that are used for, among other areas of Jewish law, constructing a valid Sukkah and ensuring a Lulav of adequate length.

 

I’ve been thinking about an interesting phenomenon that I have observed here in Israel. With regard to homes and buildings, it seems that here in Israel there is less of a separation between what is outside and what is inside. Whereas in Vancouver, by and large in my observation, people do not extend their indoor mode of living so naturally to the outdoors – in terms of using the outdoor space on their property in the manner that one would use indoor space – by contrast, in Israel, it seems that outdoor space functions as more of an extension of indoor space, rather than something separate that demands its own mode of use entirely. I am told that this is evidently due to the dry weather conditions that exist for most of the year. I nonetheless find it quite interesting. During the holiday of Sukkot, where people dine and sleep in their Sukkahs, this relationship between outdoor and indoor living space becomes even more emphasized. 

Last night I attended a Simchat Beit HaShoeva – a celebration mirroring the celebration in the Beit HaMigdash (Temple) during Sukkot that would include the water libation ceremony, though contemporary celebrations do not include this ceremony – at Darche Noam / Shapell’s. It was a nice evening consisting of refreshments in the Sukkah with a D’var Torah, followed by rounds of dancing to live music. Sukkot is described in our liturgy as “Z’man Simchataynu” – the time of our rejoicing. While all the Jewish festivals consist of happiness, Sukkot stands as special in this regard, where happiness and rejoicing is effectively legislated as a explicit fundamental component of the Chag. Perhaps one way of looking at this is to understand Pesach as the time of redemption for the Jewish people, then Shavuot as the time we receive the Torah, followed by the introspective month of Elul that precedes Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur, which in turn is the time of our collective judgement, where Sukkot is the joyous culmination of this yearly cycle.

Today I went down to the Old City and prayed Shacharit (the morning prayer service) at the Kotel (Western Wall). Today, as it was the second day of Chol HaMoed (the intermediate days of Sukkot) – or the first for those from outside of Israel (like myself) – there was a large scale Birkat HaKohanim (the Priestly Blessing that Kohanim recite) at the Kotel. The Old City and the Kotel Plaza in particular were packed with people. It took a significant amount of time to get down to the Kotel itself. When coming back up, I found myself squeezed into a narrow block of the Jewish Quarter, with a huge number of other people all pushing and yelling to get through. It was a rather uncomfortable experience to say the least. I had lunch with friends at Rimon in the new mall just outside the Jaffa Gate. It was really good food. We ate in the restaurant’s massive Sukkah. We then walked around the Old City for a while and observed the festivities.

 

That’s it for now. Feel free to comment by clicking the comment link below. Please note that to protect against spam if you comment you will now need to enter the text in the box below the comment field (it is also part of a project to digitize old books that computer OCR software cannot read).