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[Alumni Guest Post] Build a House like Solomon

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Dvar Torah by Daniel Shibley (Year '11, Fellows '12)
in honor of Hannah Landes and Eitan Gavson:
Photo credit: Andrea Wiese (PEP '14)

Photo credit:
Andrea Wiese (PEP ’14)

Last evening I had the extraordinary pleasure of celebrating the marriage of two friends who are dear members of our community. The chatan and kallah sparkled with radiance as their parents beamed with pride. As the chatan and then the kallah were escorted to the marriage canopy, which symbolizes the home that they have begun to build together, I could not help but think of the beauty and purity of the candelabra that is kindled in our parasha this week in Numbers 8:4

וְזֶה מַעֲשֵׂה הַמְּנֹרָה מִקְשָׁה זָהָב, עַד-יְרֵכָהּ עַד-פִּרְחָהּ מִקְשָׁה הִוא: כַּמַּרְאֶה, אֲשֶׁר הֶרְאָה יְהוָה אֶת-מֹשֶׁה–כֵּן עָשָׂה, אֶת-הַמְּנֹרָה. פ And this was the work of the candlestick, beaten work of gold; unto the base thereof, and unto the flowers thereof, it was beaten work; according unto the pattern which the LORD had shown Moses, so he made the candlestick

Like the gold mentioned in the verse, the chatan and the kallah were models of perfection, each one completing the other, while we looked on, sharing in and hopefully adding to their unbridled happiness. Continue reading →

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[Alumni Guest Post] Peter Avniel Salzman of Blessed Memory

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Alicia Jo Rabins (Year '99, Fellows '00) wrote the following
in memory of her friend Peter Avniel Salzman z"l

ajrWhen the Pardes students asked me to write something for the Pardes blog a few weeks ago, I thought I’d write about how Pardes changed my life. How I was, at twenty, a secular American Jew hungry for spiritual wisdom, cobbling together rituals based on the few blessings I knew, reciting the Kiddush over beer on a Friday night in my college dorm room. How a chance encounter with an Orthodox student led me to Pardes, where I was introduced to the depth and beauty of Torah, and fell in love. How I now strive to bring some of that electric energy and excitement to my own teaching, and also to my work as an artist, in which I often build on Jewish texts and traditions. And how I am eternally grateful to Pardes for creating a space where I could dive deep into Torah without having to pretend to be anyone other than my young, eager, critical, exuberant self.

I thought I’d write about the palpable holiness of studying after-hours during night seder and on Shavuot – that feeling of navigating the depths while others sleep, and how it reminded me of the weeks I spent living on a boat in the middle of the ocean during my junior year. Or about the daytime energy of the beit midrash, the French press and bag of coffee grounds my chavruta Marc and I kept in our locker to fuel our learning sessions, my exhilaration as we dug into Talmud, the compassion and brilliance of our teachers. Or about the Shabbat dinners I hosted with my dear roommate Jill that first year – we couldn’t afford a table, so our guests ate on my twin mattress, which we flipped over and covered with a length of leopard-print material we’d bought in the shuk. I thought I’d write a simple love letter to Pardes.

Avniel

Avniel

But this past Sunday, Peter Avniel Salzman passed away. Those of you who knew me in Jerusalem know how close we were during the years I was at Pardes; I loved him, as did many of you. He was 38 years old. So, with a heavy heart and the knowledge that my words are insufficient, I will write a few words in Peter’s memory. Continue reading →

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Wall Museum in Bethlehem

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During my December Encounter trip to Bethlehem we had a short tour of the Wall as it looks facing the city. I heard from previous trip participants that the graffiti on the Wall is constantly changing, with pictures large and small, and messages written in various languages. One of the newer additions to the wall is posters with personal stories written by Palestinian men and women, collectively called the “Wall Museum”.

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Enlisting the Torah: My Encounter Trip Reflection

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Our bus returned to Jerusalem an hour before Shabbat candle-lighting time. I quickly biked home to shower and light the candles before heading out to my friend’s place for dinner. It was only at twilight, while walking along the Rakevet (the old railroad tracks that cut across the south Jerusalem) and reading from a commentary on the week’s Torah potion, that some of what I had seen and experienced in the West Bank earlier that day started to come into focus. I was struck by the poignant connection between the week’s parsha and my day’s immersion into The Conflict.

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The passage was “Behar” in the book of Leviticus, which deals mainly with the laws surrounding the Shemitta (or Sabbatical Year) and the Yovel (or Jubilee Year). The Torah commands that every seven years the land is to lie fallow, and any fruits that the land produces by itself are to be shared equally with all. And after seven cycles of the Shemitta, or every fifty years, the Yovel is celebrated and all lands are to revert back to their ancestral owners. The commentary I was reading, written by Rabbi Michael Hattin in his book “Passages,” said that what we are to spiritually take away from this practice is that we must frequently “relax our grasp on the illusion of physical permanence that land possession affords.” Continue reading →

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Irony’s Revenge: The Post-Modern Shidduch Date

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Jewish Dating Tips #1: If we call ourselves single, we make ourselves lonely—A single is a person shipwrecked on an island. Adam HaRishon, the first man was single. Nobody else has been single since. When you feel alone and single, make your life more meaningful. Start appreciating those around you. Use the most precious gift an unmarried person has – your free time – to help others.

Black yarmulke? Check. White shirt? Check. Black pants? Check. Black Shabbos shoes? Check. Tzitzit out? Check. Sense of self?….As I walk down my street, telling a lie with each footstep, I feel the stares and the subtle resentment of each passerby as they rightfully judge me as something I’m not. I never thought of t-shirts, jean shorts, colorful knitted kippas, and tiztizit, as a statement of who I am before, but in this moment, I long to be me again. Or at least to get to my “date”’s house sooner where they get it.

When I arrive, she’s in the bathroom putting the finishing touches on her costume. From the back, I can already see the difference. The vivacious girl known for wearing clothing so loud that if it actually covered more of her body, everyone within a 10-yard radius would be in danger of becoming blind and deaf, has transformed herself into Frumma Blahstein for our “date.”

“Call me Shua,” I say, arms behind my back and avoiding her gaze as though making eye-contact were signing a ketuba kesuba.

“I’m Nomi,” she says, doing the same (I guess). “Laura, take our picture! Derek, let’s make this as awkward as possible!”

“It’s Shua, and that won’t be hard,” I say. We settle on a position on either side of a plant and look anywhere but at each other. “This is going to be so much fun!” we say, almost in unison.

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What A Pardes Student Thinks About on Mother’s Day

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What A Pardes Student Thinks About on Mother’s Day

(if they hold by it)

I think about you most when I’m walking around Jerusalem. It is so beautiful- tiny curved streets with antique stone houses. Everything is a little bit smaller and closer together (perfectly sized for me) or maybe it all just seems little and quaint because every building has to be uncovered by your eyes from all of the amazing plants. Tall thin trees, tropical flowers in huge bushes full, palm trees, vines in full like trees themselves all covered with flowers I’ve never seen before.

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Walking down the street you’re suddenly overcome by some new fragrance. It’s half amazement at the smell and half curiosity that makes me stop in my tracks and investigate the new color/ shape/ feel of some completely unique flower. I always think how you would love all of the flowers, and I like to imagine in those moments that if you were here you would Continue reading →

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Rosh Chodesh Sivan at the Kotel

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From my blog:
Watch the actual video: here.

Watch the actual video: here.

Friday morning was a blur. A scary blur. I didn’t wake up until 6:24 AM when my roommate screamed, “WIESE.” And I jumped out of bed, how could this happen, on a day that was so important to me? Never mind…we jumped in a taxi and I ran down to the women’s section with my bag. I couldn’t even get to the regular spot because there was a sea of light blue shirts of seminary girls from all over Israel. I quickly realized that they had been bussed in for the exact opposite reason I was there. I ran into my dear friend, and later saviour, Melissa. She was also lost. We didn’t know where “Women of the Wall” (WOW) was praying because there wasn’t space where they normally gather. (Smart thinking ultra-orthodox girls…if there isn’t space, maybe they can’t pray at the Kotel. Makes sense.) We went down together into the sea of blue, maybe they were there somewhere. They weren’t. But it was time to daven, so Melissa started pezukei dezimra (the “warm up” blessings, as I like to call them,) while I started to put on my tefillin. It was worse than the paparazzi that normally come to women of the wall. The girls thought they were seeing an alien or the devil…it was true what their rabbi told them, there are women who put on tefillin! They started taking pictures of my and then scuttled away, they didn’t want to be too close, maybe I could contaminate them. Many were already tisking at the action. But then, I pulled out my tallit (I know I should put on my tallit first and then tefillin, but there isn’t a lot of space and it’s difficult, so I reverse the order,) it was like poison. The girls backed away like if touching it would burn them, or something worse. They started making this hissing noise, I have never heard such a frightening/bizarre noise in my life. No one wanted to talk to me, it was too shocking to them. And I was there alone with my tallit and tefillin. I still didn’t know where the other women were. Melissa had finished pezukei dezimra and she looked at me, we knew we had to get out of there. It wasn’t safe. I was already flustered. Melissa, calm and cool, Continue reading →

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[Alumni Guest Post] Ready!

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Sarah Margles (Year '02, PEP '04) reflects upon preparing
for Shavuot... what does "readiness" mean?

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I remember when I first started at Pardes, I would spend much of Fridays getting ready for Shabbat – shopping, cooking, cleaning. When the siren went to light candles, my roommate would inevitably yell out, while running from the bathroom in a towel, “But I’m not ready!!” When we speak of Jewish holidays, we often say things like, “The holidays are so early this year,” or “I love it when Pesach is late.” There is something about readiness that seems integral to our Jewish experience.

Shavuot has a lot to teach about readiness. In Shmot 19:11, as the people are getting ready to receive Torah, God tells Moses to tell the people to go prepare for God will arrive on the third day. But Continue reading →

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Bare

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From my blog:

x

This is the story of a girl. Many girls, actually. This story was born long ago, but a recent confluence of events has compelled me to record it today. The events are as follows (some are more like situations than events):

  • Event 1: I live with two boys. This is a situation.
  • Event 2: I learn with boys. This is also a situation, but significant event-like moments are reached during the sessions in which we sit across the table from each other and stare into each other’s – um, gemaras.
  • Event 3. Last week, I went to a Shabbat dinner with males and females.
  • Event 4: Last week, I went to a Shabbat lunch with only females.
  • Fact: The difference was astounding.
Arak: a Mediterranean anise- flavored spirit

Arak: a Mediterranean
anise- flavored spirit

Friday night was fun. There was wine, Arak, deep-voiced singing, and heated debate about discovering the nature of God versus simply following His laws. There were, of course, the overt displays of “bro love,” and the subtle touching of men and women that revealed the underlying desire of every person in that room to get the hell married already.

Saturday lunch was fun. There was wine, a pearl necklace, musical chairs, and discussion about whether showing Continue reading →

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Bound. because I Want to.

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I’m leaving for Israel and my father hands me two bags. “Take these with you. The furrier, Shlomo, your great grandmother’s brother-in-law, left them to me. Find out if it’s meaningful for you.”

The first is black felt, light to the touch, with a golden Magen David embroidered in cord on its front. The Tallit inside is thin, composed of silky white fabric that is shifting towards an aged grey. Blue stripes run along its slender frame while an intricate latticework of linen falls away from the edges only to tangle up with the Tzitzit at the corners. It’s German Reform, classic and beautiful. So light I barely feel its weight when I try it on. So thin and delicate it barely covers my shoulders. It’s not my first Tallit.

The second bag is old and mustard yellow, fine prismatic threading has frayed across its front where it spells out the words “Tefillin” in Hebrew. The Tefillin inside are old with paper caps atop the Shel, each heavy with lacquer. The leather is cracked and aromatic, the black stain no longer present along the edges. The two bags go into my duffel, right next to my other Tallit, but as I put them down one Tefillin fall out of their yellow bag. The paper top tips off and the shin of the Rosh stares up at me like blurred eye still heavy with sleep. I stare back. What do I do with you?

Why does a Reform Jew wrap T’fillin? Continue reading →

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