The Reason that my Tallit Belongs at the Kotel

Reflections on Rosh Hodesh Sivan with Women of the Wall, 5773 – 2013

Throughout the year I have studied here in Jerusalem, I have learned that the Wall has its own identity crisis. It is part of a larger structure that was built and carried, lost, built again and then destroyed, and built again, and built over again and destroyed again. There are more stages in between of deeper and deeper details. The figurative symbol of complete purity, it was more often an embodiment of utter corruption. The man who inspired the design of the particular Wall before which we stand today was a gifted, paranoid maniac, maddened by grief and riches and conflicting loyalties. The Temple itself, and the Wall it became, changed owners and took on ideologies of shocking variance over the centuries. And yet here it still stands, a testament to physical stability, containing all of its tumultuous history behind the serenity of its stones.


On the first Shabbat I was in Jerusalem, I walked with a group of very new friends into the Old City for the first time. I knew nothing about it except that it was the last of the Temple, a remnant of a Judaism from long ago, one with which I had trouble relating, but that it was “supposed to”, maybe, inspire a surge of feeling within me. Perhaps a feeling of closeness to the Divine? Perhaps an intense unification with the Jewish people? Perhaps bafflement or even, perhaps nothing? I was curious, and determined not to judge whatever feeling arose. Continue reading

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Toxic Davening

From my blog:

When you are praying the words “Shema Yisrael”, “Listen Israel”, but instead you hear the sound of people yelling at you.

When there are more photographers and journalists than people praying.

After months of hesitation and apprehension I visit the kotel for Rosh Chodesh. I go to finally see what it is like to be a part of Women of the Wall, an organization that some of my friends have been very active in all year. I have come up with every excuse in the book to not go: “I’m too tired, I really need to sleep”, or “I don’t want to get arrested for being there when I don’t even know how I feel about it”. But after realizing I have successfully not gone for 9 months, and I only have 1 or 2 more opportunities before I leave Israel this time, I pushed my self to wake up and go.

I was waiting on line with this huge group of Argentinian Jews who, from overhearing their conversation, had just come from Poland. And they looked like it, exhausted, drained, and happy to be in Eretz Yisrael. With the look in their eyes, like they know the last week of their lives changed them forever, even if some haven’t realized it yet. Continue reading

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In Pain, but Numb.

From my blog:
Photo of Israeli traffic on a major road stopping for 2 minutes for Yom Hashoah

Photo of Israeli traffic on a major road stopping for 2 minutes for Yom Hashoah

Monday was my second Yom HaShoah in Israel. I was standing in the middle of the partition in the road on Rivkah and Pierre Koenig to get a good view of the people stopping their cars and getting out to pay their respects to the dead when the wail of the memorial siren sounded. Another woman stood with me, her phone out for video taping the streets during the two minutes that all of Israel stops on its tracks, and hopefully, takes the moment to remember what the world has lost. Last year, I was standing in a similar place, quietly battling an inner turmoil that comes with the day, and had been carrying around an ache that had settled from my throat to my chest, like I needed to let out a good cry, when I witnessed the unified mourning of a country at a standstill, even if only for a few moments. This year though, something happened that deeply disturbed me.

During the siren, a single car, a worker’s vehicle, came careening down the road, as if the driver not only refused to stop for those two minutes, but was driving in such a way that indicated that he wanted the rest of us who were standing and acknowledging the siren to know, that he was in no way with us on this. The woman with the camera on the partition stepped out into the road in front of the car to get him to stop, which he was forced to do, and at that point, he was caught at the red light. She shoved the camera close to his smug face through his open window, where he proceeded to Continue reading

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The Sirens Blared

From my blog:
Pardesniks listening to the Yom HaShoah siren on the roof of Pardes - by Rachel Rosenbluth (Spring '13)

Pardesniks listening to the Yom HaShoah siren on the roof of Pardes – by Rachel Rosenbluth (Spring ’13)

There are certain moments in my life where everything has come to a screeching halt. Most of these have just been moments when my personal world, or maybe my family or community, has stopped. Today (Yom HaShoah), I experienced an entire country ceasing all activity – learning, work, driving, shopping – and pause for two minutes to remember to remember the 11 million who perished in the Holocaust – 6 million of whom were Jews, and 1.5 million of whom were children. Children who hadn’t done a single thing wrong except be born into unlucky circumstances. Continue reading

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My Ayeka Journey

Among the many blessings I have experienced this year is the Ayeka course facilitated by David Bogomolny.  I share here some of my favourite take-aways from the course (handily preserved in my writing exercises and reflections.)

This module was about bringing God back to the conversation.  I felt like it gave me a place to engage with my relationship with God and my beliefs in a spiritual way amidst a year of otherwise mostly intellectual pursuits.  I always manage to find my way back to faith and my relationship with God but in the Ayeka sessions, God was our starting point, not only the destination.

Session 4, on the conversation or hitbodedut, took place during the Pillar of Cloud preparations.  According to my reflections, hitbodedut at this time came as a welcome relief during a time of confusion, when I felt inarticulate and confused.  Here is what I wrote: Continue reading

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Women and Men at the Wall

Hello Pardesians!

I went to Women at the Wall this week, and I have to write about it! It was an incredible experience in so many ways!

I had gone to Women at the Wall once before, but I think this was the biggest turnout yet! Also, what gave it a different flavour was a group of 70 Haredi men who launched a counter protest from the men’s side. Every time that the women began to daven, the men would do everything possible to drown out the sound of the women’s voices, including playing the shofar! At that moment, when the shofar was used to drown out the sound of the Shema that was coming from the women’s side, all I could feel was anger and shame! This is a symbol that is used as a call to prayer, and here it was being used to mask prayer. I was glad that I could be there.

Have a wonderful, safe, and joyous Pesach everyone!

Love,
Stuart.

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[Pardes From Jerusalem Podcast] Ki Tissa 5773: Breaking the Tablets

Pardes 1000xThis week, Rabbi Meir Schweiger discusses Parashat Ki Tissa in “Breaking the Tablets.”

Ki Tissa ’73
Shabbat shalom!

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[Alumni Guest Post] Fire over T’Fillah

Daniel Shibley (Year '11, Fellows '12) started a new blog!
Here's one of his posts, from Dec. 11:

Although we are now a few weeks removed from the tense days of war that came to define the month of November, the exact moment of the first siren has remained with me, a quasi-trauma, a frozen second that I imagine will probably never depart my psyche. In a previous blog, I wrote regularly about t’fillah, aspects thereof, and I would be remiss to leave this particular experience undocumented.

Kabbalat Shabbat, a compilation of Psalms designated by the Kabbalists of the 16th Century, which is recited, often sung, every Friday night in most communities has become one of the most significant aspects of my week. When done “correctly,” the combination of singing, energy, and outpouring of emotion, can reach some near euphoric state. Somewhere between the vibrations of voices mingled and the sheer passion, there exists a supreme peace, an acknowledgement that the six working days have concluded and the transcendence of time and space, Shabbat, has begun. That is,until with a shrill and defined wail, the sound of an air raid siren shatters the peace.

It takes a few seconds for synapses to fire, it takes a few seconds to realize, it takes a few seconds to be able to uproot ones feet when davening is quieted at yeshiva and the announcement is made about incoming missiles necessitating an immediate scramble to a sheltered area. That Shabbat I was hosting a dear friend, as Continue reading

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Narrow Bridge

Originally posted on my blog:

“You’re worried? You don’t need to be worried. The rockets can’t reach Jerusalem,” they said.
“You don’t feel safe in Tel-Aviv? Come stay with us for Shabbat,” we said.
“No, Mom, I’m fine. Jerusalem is out of the range of the rockets. Don’t worry,” I said.

“The whole world is a very narrow bridge. And the most important thing is to not be afraid.”
-Rabbi Nachman of Breslov

Yesterday was Friday. I spent the day doing my usual “Friday things”: shopping, cooking, cleaning, coffee with a friend. Even though there is a heaviness in the country, with southern Israel and now Tel Aviv under rocket attack and many soldiers being mobilized near Gaza, LIFE in Israel goes on as usual.

As Shabbat was approaching, I was running around like any other week. I quickly finished cooking my dish for dinner, threw the dirty dishes in the sink (and promised my roommates I would do them later), took a 5 minute power-shower, threw on some clothes and make-up, and lit the candles. With all the events of the past week, I was eager for some Shabbat rest, while being fully aware that this was a luxury, as other parts of this country and region would be having no rest at all.

We arrived at shul (services) right before the beginning of the main prayer service. Just then, we heard it: the air raid siren, indicating that a rocket has been launched near the area, and we should get to a stairwell or shelter as soon as possible (in Jerusalem, you have about a minute).

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A Shabbat in Hevron

About a month and a half ago, I went to Hevron for Shabbat with a few Pardesniks to visit a fellow student’s wife’s family. His wife actually grew up in Hevron; and her parents still live there today. I was very grateful for the family’s generosity and hospitality, and for the chance they gave me to experience Hevron via something other than a quick tour. The following is my account of some of the moments that stood out for me about the weekend.

On Friday evening, we went to kabbalat Shabbat services at what they call “the Me’arah” (otherwise known as the Cave of Machpelah). It’s not really much of a cave – more of a big shrine sort of building with “graves” of matriarchs/patriarchs labeled. There are like 4 simultaneous kabbalat Shabbat minyanim there, but the one we attended seemed to be the largest and was held in this big, cavernous, freezing cold space. It was a mechitza minyan, of course – I’ve gotten used to that by now – but unlike the orthodox minyanim I tend to frequent in Jerusalem, Continue reading

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