Tag Archives: Gilad Shalit

the Shalit Debate

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On Monday, October 24, Pardes students and staff were treated to a brilliant intellectual exercise as Pardes Dean Dr. David Bernstein and Pardes teacher Rabbi David Levin-Kruss debated the recent events which brought hostage Gilad Shalit home to Israel in exchange for over 1,000 incarcerated Palestinian prisoners.

The twist?  Neither man knew which side of the debate he was to defend until lots were drawn in front of the audience of nearly three dozen students, faculty and staff members.  Dr. Bernstein introduced the topic and the rules of engagement.  He sketched the situation, saying the exchange included a number of people with blood on their hands, responsible for numerous civilian deaths.  He also commented that some of those released were sent to Turkey, Egypt and Qatar rather than to their “home” countries.

Rabbi Levin-Kruss (DLK) speaking first, argued against the deal, while Dr. Bernstein (DDB) responded, defending it.

Their most salient points included:

  • DLK: The Entebbe air raid was one of the most powerful events in my life.  In 1976, hostages were captured and the Israeli Air Force went in and saved most of them.  Last week was entirely different.  At Entebbe Israel used strength to save people.
    And the price on victim families is tremendous.  It will cause trouble between Israeli soldiers too.  Sometimes it’s sad in life, an individual has to suffer for the whole; the collective, the society comes first.  I’d have felt differently if the price had been more equivalent.  But now, terrorists know they’ll be traded when the next trade comes.
  • DDB: (holding up a faded green ribbon that used to be yellow):  This was on my car for years.  Shalit’s family tried to create support to bring him home.  He was taken from the pre-67 side of the border, from inside Israel.  We quickly started saying psalms for him daily.  Today it’s eerie in its absence, happily.
    There’s no question that this was a difficult decision.  The cost was very high.  But close to 80% of Israelis supported the exchange.  Almost 80% said they expect it to lead to more terrorist activity, but they still support it.    People in the tent cities, at mass rallies, mentioned his name to express approval that he should be freed.
    Bibi agreed to do what seemed a crazy exchange, but he was doing the people’s will.  We have exchanged hundreds of prisoners for dead bodies. We wanted Gilad back alive.  He represents every man, every child, every soldier.  There’s a feeling that this could be my child.  He was just a few miles away, but you can’t always pull off an Entebbe.  The public wanted him back alive.  The only way was to pay a high price.
    All the freed prisoners had to sign a document agreeing not to revert back to terrorism (laughter in the audience at this statement).  Either 40% or 60%, according to two sources I saw, do not revert.
    Why ever, maybe the deal isn’t as bad as it looks at first.  He created a tremendous amount of solidarity in the country.  I can only compare it to Yom Ha Atzmaut, because the statement was made—when we can do an Entebbe, we will.  When we can’t, we’ll still bring them home alive.
  • DLK in rebuttal:  We rule by democracy—Churchill said that democracy is the worst form of government but it’s still better than the others.  It’s not good to rule by the public, who will say, “It won’t happen to me, but to somebody else.”  People should vote, but that said, these deep decisions shouldn’t be made by popular sentiment, but by the knowledge and wisdom of elected, informed leaders.
  • DDB: Terrorists are always trying kidnapping.  It’s one of their tactics.
    They will continue to have high motivation. Families felt bad seeing murderers go free.  Two Pardes students were killed in the attack at Hebrew University.  Their killer was let go.  Still, many families supported the deal.  The price of 1,000 is close to the number Israel has had to pay to release our people since 1948-that’s been the going price.  There has been a cartoon, published in the International Herald Tribune, circulating, showing two prisoners walking out of jail.  One is saying to the other I did the math—I’m worth 70 grams of an Israeli soldier.

A lively discussion followed the mock debate, with students asking pointed questions aimed at the debaters’ real thoughts as well as their assumed positions. Each gave a sense of his actual feelings on the topic.

  • DDB: Before the announcement, I’d have said no exchange, but once it happened I was happy.  I’m ambivalent—an unhappy mind, but a happy heart.
  • DLK:  Once I had to make a very difficult personal decision.  Someone sent me an email saying there are some decisions that are just too hard to make.  Our leaders have to make those decisions, for better or for worse.  My heart and mind are unhappy but I waver.  My argument works in a theoretical way, but it’s an important discussion.
  • DDB: (Asked about the possibility of instituting the death penalty for terrorists)…The death penalty exists, but it’s only been used once, for Adolf Eichmann.  There’s popular support for it when terror is high.  I don’t think it will happen.  Judges and lawmakers are against it.
    To Israelis, wanton killing is wrong—even of our enemies.
    (Asked why the trade happened now)  Hamas and Bibi were at a low point; they both needed a deal.  Also, there was a fear that Egypt is moving in an uncertain direction and can’t be trusted to be a partner in the future.  The social protest movement was a factor too.  This is an attempt to resurrect Bibi politically.
  • DLK:  Why now and not two years ago?  We knew he was alive now.  We can’t be sure Hamas would keep him alive.
  • DDB: There were feelings of guilt over Ron Arad—we presumed he was dead.  Israel believes that Ron Arad died in captivity; he was certainly alive when captured, and for a period afterwards as well.  We didn’t want to reenact what happened with him.
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Exploring Jerusalem communities

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Interesting experience a couple weeks ago. As some of you know, I’m exploring Jerusalem’s various shuls and traditions. Carlebach, Sephardic, traditional, Modern Orthodox, egalitarian so far. Since I’m in a city with a minyan on every corner, why not!

A friend had told me that Kol Haneshama, a Reform kehillah, was holding Simchat Torah services at the Magen Home for challenged adults. Once, I’d seen a woman in a wheelchair given the honor of carrying the Torah. She had to be helped. I found it most touching, and thought I’d like to help others celebrate. The service at Kol Haneshama was outdoors, under the clearest cloudless blue sky I’d seen yet in Jerusalem. Birds crowded the trees, and the sukkah sat behind the Torah. How fitting. I won’t even talk about the cats, Jerusalem’s most ubiquitous feature.

I’d never before thought of a Reform service all in Hebrew (yes, Israel is taking some getting used to. Most people speak English, so one tends to forget that Hebrew is not just the language of prayer here, but the language of the streets, the media, the advertisements, even the sale flyers in the stores. But I was pleased that not only could I follow the service, I could even find my place! For me, that’s major.

When the Torahs were taken out and given to people, the glow on their faces eclipsed the noontime sunshine. I was so glad I’d come. Dancing behind them, clapping and singing, rejoicing over the sacred scrolls–that’s what Jerusalem is all about. And how wonderful that we prayed for Gilad Shalit, but no longer for his release, but giving thanks for his safe return!

Thank you Idele for alerting me to this extraordinary mitzvah.

And afterwards, home to my apartment and lunch with a dozen young women already far more Jewishly educated than I’m afraid I’ll ever be. They were and are an inspiration. And almost make me wish I were back in my early 20s. I wonder what I’d change if I could. Every positive change impacts everything else and causes unanticipated consequences.

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A Week of Fullness, Friends and Fun

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Cross-posted from the Peaceable Pilgrim:

Shalom friends! It is the beginning of a new week here in Jerusalem, and the past one was filled with SO MUCH AWESOMENESS that I just have to share with you.

Classes started up again full-swing on Sunday, and even though I was somewhat dreading getting back to a normal routine after vacation, it was actually quite nice to be learning again. It’s what I came here to Jerusalem to do, after all! On Sunday I had Chumash class, where we learn Hebrew and study the book of Exodus, in the morning. Then I had Prophets with Master Tanakh Teacher Michael Hattin from 12-1 where we study the books of Joshua, Judges, Samuel and Kings.

After Prophets I ran back to my apartment to get my things together for a trip we were taking that day in my Social Justice class to the area around the Shuk, an open-air market in Jerusalem. It was a tour to learn more about poverty in Jerusalem and our guide first took us to a restaurant called Carmei Ha’ir whose goal is to feed the hungry and leave them with dignity, so those who can pay do, but those who can’t they don’t require payment from. After listening to and asking questions of the restaurant’s owner, we continued on to different neighborhoods around the Shuk, seeing the extent of the Russian and Ethiopian communities and what life is like for people of many different backgrounds.

Some poverty statistics:

  • In 2009, 36% of households in Jerusalem were below the poverty line: 23% of Jewish households were below the poverty line as compared with 68% of non-Jewish families.
  • In 2009, 60.5% of children were below the poverty line: 44.5% of Jewish children and 82% of non-Jewish children. [As opposed to 59% overall, 48% Jewish and 74% non-Jewish in 2007]

The next day, Monday, I had my Foundations of Judaism class which I really like. After that was Prophets again, and then during lunch was a special mock debate between David Bernstein, the Dean of Pardes, and David Levin Kruss, my Foundations of Judaism teacher. It was a debate over the deal to free Gilad Shalit, which was a major occurrence in Israel over the break, and each teacher took either a for or against stance that neither knew ahead of time. The debate was interesting for me to see, not only to hear both sides of the coin, but also because there was time for questions after the speakers finished which were amazing. Many people shared their own stories and feelings about what Gilad being free meant to them, and hearing their own personal histories with the issue meant a lot to me and made it more real.

The debate also allowed me to see it from a more human perspective and not just a moral one, which was where I originally fell on the line since we learned in Social Justice class that the Talmud says not to pay exorbitant amounts for hostages for the sake of the general good. 1,000+ people to me was an exorbitant amount, and not having much emotional stake in the issue I didn’t see the good in it, but after seeing some videos of the welcome the Palestinian prisoners received when they came home (which were very warm and human, and even heartbreaking as some prisoners had developed something akin to PTSD in prison and were different people when arriving home, not acknowledging children they had never met or just not knowing how to deal with the unfamiliarity of it all) and hearing that all the prisoners signed a statement that they would not resume hostile activities I felt a lot more understanding of the deal to bring Gilad back alive.

Now on Tuesdays, what is noteworthy is that instead of our regular 12-1 class we have something called “Critical Issues,” where Pardes teachers or outside experts in their field come to the Beit Midrash and talk about a topic that is relevant to Israel society today. On this past Tuesday, we had the honor of listening in on a discussion between Pardes teachers Michael Hattin and Daniel Roth, who talked about what Kedushat Eretz Yisrael (the sanctity/holiness of the Land of Israel) meant to them. This discussion was absolutely AMAZING! Everyone was raptly glued to their chairs as these two questioned each other and ultimately got down to what it meant to say that the Jews belong in Israel, and not just some territory in Canada, or anywhere else. Why Israel? What does it mean for the Jews, and everyone else? Can there be peaceful borders? Can non-Jews live in the land too? (The answer is yes.) I felt honored and privileged to witness such a frank and open discussion, and I am so thankful to Pardes and these two teachers for facilitating such a conversation.

On Wednesday I made my name change official at Community Lunch, and it was a truly moving experience for me. First, we had a Social Justice speaker named Joseph Gitler come and speak to us about his organization called Leket, which provides work for Arab-Israeli citizens and food for the needy in Israel. Then, we had faculty and student announcements. When it was my turn to speak, I stood up and announced to all my friends and teachers that I would like to be known from now on by my Hebrew name, and the Hebrew name of my grandfather, Eliyahu. When I was finished everyone applauded, and it really touched me to receive such a warm recognition of who I am. It is something I will never forget as long as I live, and I am so thankful to be part of such an open and amazing community of people.

On Thursdays, we have a half day at Pardes to allow time for our Social Action projects, so this Thursday I got home from school early, took care of some errands and tasks I needed to do, and then went to Kol Haneshama at 4:30 to prepare for teaching English to disadvantaged kids in the community at 5. I have to say, these kids are absolutely amazing and most have the greatest attitudes ever. It makes teaching them fun, and getting to know them even more fun. I was the “point person” that day and our normal coordinator is out of town for the next 2 weeks, so a lot of the responsibility of organization fell to me. I was happy to contribute, and all in all we had a successful day! At the end one of the girls needed a walk to the bus stop, so I volunteered and on our walk she taught me some Hebrew! I knew a little, so we could converse very simply, and she taught me how to say “left” and “right” and “forward” and “backward”. It was really nice and I felt we connected in a meaningful way. I’m so happy to be able to teach kids again, as it’s something that I was very passionate about leading up to my time in Korea and that didn’t quite materialize fully during my time there, but there were definitely high moments in Korea, and it seems like there are much more high moments in this new environment than low ones.

On Friday, I slept in until my landlord (who I was expecting) rang our buzzer around 10:30 so he could fix a few things around the apartment. After he left I did some chores, went online, read a little, and then got ready for Shabbat. I showered, got dressed, and made my way to Kol Haneshama where Nava Tehila, the renewal minyan I mentioned in my previous entry, was meeting for their monthly Kabbalat Shabbat service. I have never been to one of these services by them before, and it was one of the most beautiful experiences I’ve had during my time in Jerusalem so far.

Why was it so beautiful? To be surrounded, with chairs all in a circle, by people who I have been sharing experiences with since my time in Jerusalem and sing songs of peace and praise with them… I don’t think words can do justice to how much it meant to me. I saw people from my ulpan, some who I would never expect to see and some I would (including the Reform family I mentioned in a previous entry that I shared Shabbat with during my first month here). I saw friends from Pardes, some of whom I sat with. I saw Sam (a Pardes friend) beating on the drums in tune to the beat and felt like I was a part of him as I drummed my hands on my legs. But most of the time, to really experience the fullness of the experience, I closed my eyes and just tried to connect to myself knowing I was surrounded by all these people who are meaning more and more to me every day.

At first I was nervous, trying to be precise and read the Hebrew of the songs, but when I let go and just followed the words sung by everyone else intuitively I was really able to connect to the magic of Shabbat in moments, and I gained a sense of peace. It is an experience I am excited to share again, and I can’t wait for more meaningful moments with all of these people over the next 8 months. I’m sure they will keep on coming.

After services I walked with some Pardesnicks to our friend Naomi’s house (who was actually in Seoul the same time I was, and we met at a Chanukah party at her apartment) and we had a great Shabbat meal there. There was excellent conversation, of which turned to Harry Potter (what is one aspect of the Harry Potter world that you would like to be real? I chose flying) and “shtetl milfs”, and there were lots of laughs. I had a great time.

On Saturday, I joyfully slept in until 11:30 (slept for more than 10 hours, yea!) and then got ready to go to my Social Justice teacher’s house for Shabbat lunch where her and her family were hosting our class. It was another awesome meal, just adding to the wonderful Shabbat atmosphere, as there was GREAT food and even greater company. We even sung some great songs, one led by Sam, which I will include here because it was so awesome:

“Deep inside my heart I’ve got this everlasting light,
It’s shining like the sun, it radiates on everyone
And the more that I give
The more I’ve got to give
’cause it’s the way that I give
That’s what I’m livin’ for”

After lunch it was already 4:00 and I was planning on going home to rest, but the friends I was walking back with and I ran into our new classmate Amber who was going to the Tayelet and I decided to join. I am so glad that I did, because not only did I begin Shabbat surrounded by friends and meaning, but I got to end it the same way. The Tayelet was absolutely BREATH-TAKING with its panoramic view of Jerusalem and the Old City. I’ve never seen such a view and never knew it was so close to where I lived! More and more people kept coming, and soon there was a group of more than 20 of us Pardes students where we shared food, prayers, and even sat in a circle and shared something that was meaningful to us about the week’s Torah portion or something we had learned or felt recently. It was beautiful. There was even the most awesome cat who decided to join us on a nearby ledge, who’s eyes were fixed on us as if he were listening intently and appreciating all of us at that moment. I went over to him afterwards and petted him, of which he was happy to receive as he nuzzled my hand. I was surprised to find such an affectionate cat out in the middle of a park! It just added to the experience of an amazing Shabbat not to be forgotten, and it was the perfect end and perfect beginning of both an old week and a new one.

Shavua tov (Have a good week) all!

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Week 8: Leftovers

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Ever since I’ve arrived here there’s been stuff I wanted to talk about but just didn’t have room for in that week’s blog post. Since this was a relatively slow week, I thought this would be a good opportunity to share some of them, but I’ll start with the biggest story from this week:

*So Wednesday at around 11:50 my chevruta and I are studying Mishna (Brachot Ch.1 Mishna 2 to be precise) when I hear someone say, “Rain!” I didn’t think much of it until I heard the scuttle of chairs across the linoleum. That’s when I looked up to see that, my God it really was raining! My chevruta and I got up to join the crowd gathered around the window to watch the rain, amazed. It was beautiful–the first serious rain of the season (called the Yoreh), and since it was also the first real weather I’ve seen since I’ve been here, it was also quite surreal. Six days ago we said the traditional prayer for rain on Shmini Atzeret, and it was thrilling to see that, at least for now, our prayers were answered. It was only after we were already standing in wonder that I realized how funny it is that a Pittsburgher should actually be excited about that huge pain in the   rain. Now if only we could be so radically amazed about all weather.

Maybe 10 minutes later it stopped and hasn’t been back since.

Rain!!!! In Jerusalem!!!!!!!

*We hear a lot in school, especially from guest speakers for my Social Justice class, about how, even though Israel is still widely associated with Kibbutzim and the Kibbutz mentality, while most Israelis were able to at least get by during the years of the welfare state, now, because of the capitalist reforms of the 80′s and 90′s Israel is now almost as bad as the US in terms of income disparity among industrialized nations, and times are tough for much of the country. Much of the Tzedek Chevrati, or Social Justice protesting here has been focused on just this issue. Yet in spite of this, at least compared to America, Israel is still a strongly communal culture and it shows in nearly every facet of society.

After dinner on the first night of Sukkot I took a nice walk around the neighborhood. Sukkas were on every mirpeset and driveway, in every alleyway, and on most rooftops. Most of them were filled with Jews of all kinds talking, eating, singing, spending time together, and just being joyful. It was so inspiring. It was also inspiring how people could leave chairs, tables, crockery and other things in their sukkahs without any fear of them being stolen. Regardless of how secular most Israelis may be, I strongly believe shared Judaism and Jewish values play a strong role in the communal nature of Israel. This spirit explains why seats on busses here are arraigned in blocks of 4 to allow group conversation (this could never work in America and I shudder to think what would happen if we tried it). It explains why a stranger would pick up your lost key and put it on a ledge knowing its owner would find it there and why a woman at a bus stop would caution a stranger about a check sticking a little too far out of his pocket. Yes, people argue, yell, and critique the actions of strangers more here (for example, someone once said a woman behind him at the ATM once yelled that he would need to take out more money, and someone else told me how once when he picked up a container of skim milk, a woman said, “That’s water!” put it back, and gave him a fatty milk instead. Every non-native here has stories like this.) but I think even that is because people here aren’t really strangers the way we know them, they’re all Israelis, they’re all in this together. It also explains why this country, for better or for worse, would be willing to release over 1,000 people, many of them bent on its destruction, just to get its son back.

*The Tuesday Critical Issues Group Lecture from 12-1 is always one of the highlights of the week. This past week the lecture was a debate between two of our rabbis about the meaning of Israel as a holy place, one felt holiness was intrinsic to the Land of Israel, the other felt it is imposed on the Land by Jewish culture, and that the lived consequences of believing that a place is intrinsically holy for you has and will continue to cause much more harm than good. The debate was riveting as much for its content as for the passion both brought to their positions. But the most inspirational part was how, even in the midst of passionate debate about real, serious issues, both participants maintained a mutual respect for each other and never resorted to stereotyping or name-calling.

I really don’t think any other yeshiva in the world provides its students with such a wide-range of views, then leaves it up to them to decide whose side, if any, they take. This is what I love so much about Pardes, it respects your intelligence—no one ever tells you how to think or what to feel. They believe the Jewish tradition can speak for itself on its own terms, so they provide the education and allow you to ask questions and draw your own conclusions. When the Palestinian Authority first went to the UN about a month ago, we had presenters from 3 groups present information and analysis of the ramifications this could have for Israel from 3 different perspectives then had them field questions. Not all Group Lectures are so controversial though: During the High Holiday season, we had a choices of classes about t’shuvah and one week, we had a class on whether a non-denominational, non-coercive yeshiva is an oxymoron and if its even possible to build a community this way (the answers our teacher ended up with [though of course we were allowed to disagree {not that anyone did, though you can and that's perfectly alright}] were “no” and “yes,” respectively).

 

* Related to this, I have a great idea for Pardes’ next slogan: “The Pardes Institute: Judaism as it can be.”

 

* I don’t have the facts to back this up, but I believe that every Jew in the Diaspora has an Israeli doppelganger. I feel this way because the Jewish population is now split roughly evenly between Israel and the Diaspora, and it seems like almost every time I’m out—though this happened twice as often when I lived in the Old City—I do a double-take after thinking I see a Jew I know from home on the sidewalk, but it usually turns out to be someone else. (not always, though—by week 2 already I mentioned that I had bumped into nearly everyone I know who has made aliya, but I have since bumped randomly bumped into even more friends from home who are here either permanently or as students.) I realize the obvious gaping hole in my theory however: In order for this to be true, there would need to be a mass repository of swarthy bald Jewish men with gold earrings living in some remote corner of the exile. To the best of my knowledge, no such place exists. Yet.

To answer your question, there is an Israeli Derek and he’s currently in Washington, D.C. studying differential calculus.

 

Quote of the Week: (while studying Heschel’s The Sabbath in chevruta):

She: Wow! So the Sabbath is really like the model of the perfect relationship-

He: Yep, one day a week.

 

Hebrew word of the week: גם (“gahm”) – Also, too

 

(Photo stolen from Lauren)

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Political Lenses

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It has been a week since Gilad Shalit was released back to Israel as part of the prisoner swap Israel made with Hamas, freeing 1,027 Palestinian prisoners in exchange for the soldier who had been in captivity for over five years.  Trying to collate the different sources and viewpoints on this momentous event in modern Israeli history brought home to me just how varied the reactions of to events of this nature by different interest groups are.  Each group (depending on how nuanced your analysis is, those groups will either be large, encompassing who political ‘wings’ or much more granular) brings their own message into current events, and with the Gilad Shalit prisoner swap — as with many aspects of the Middle East conflict — those messages can be diametrically opposed.  I am not saying that political analysis of this sort is wrong or not worth listening to.  It is biased, as everything everyone says is, but this type of analysis, bringing one’s own lens to bear on an issue, is immensely important in order to glean the various truths that interest groups bring to light.

So to take Gilad Shalit as an example, I read many enunciations of mainstream pro-Israel opinions highlighting the importance Israel (and, by extension, the IDF) places on each life. In contrast, the mainstream media painted Palestinians as rejoicing over the stupidity of the price Israel is willing to pay for one life, or at least the sentiment that trading 1,027 people for 1 was a good deal for the Palestinians.  I think, in fact, that the families of the 447 released prisoners were happy in a very similar way to Noam and Aviva Shalit (see here).  Finally, the less-heard voice in the media was a genuine Left-wing voice highlighting the imbalance of power, the occupation, in showing why this is always how prisoner swaps transpire, in a roughly 1,000:1 ratio.

I think that, without considering all of these legitimate perspectives (with the exception of the caricature that I noted of the Palestinian view by the mainstream media, if in fact it is just a caricature), one will lose sight of some of the important factors at play in how an event of this magnitude affects different groups in society.  It is crucial not to forget that for some, this deal is just a further reminder of the occupation; for some, this deal means reconnecting with long-lost family members or friends and rejoicing over that; and for some, this means championing the value the State of Israel places on returning all of its soldiers home at all costs.

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Week 7: Sukkot

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(X-posted from my home blog Yinzer in Yerushalayim)

We had all of Sukkot off, plus 3 days, making for 2 weeks of free time. Many of my peers went on trips through the country of went camping. While I didn’t do either of those, I had an adventurous holiday nonetheless.
The adventure started before Sukkot when I bought my first-ever lulav and etrog. It’s not that I’ve suddenly become so pious, it’s just that the whole kit is SO much cheaper here–I got the whole package, including carrying case and myrtle and willow holders, for less than $20 USD–in America, you can’t even get a good etrog for that much.

My lulav and etrog in our sukkah

The first night of Sukkot, I went to Yedidya for services then went back home, not really having any plans for a meal. As I stood alone outside my apartment contemplating what to do, a neighbor of mine, whom I never saw nor met before, invited me into his sukkah for a meal. As I followed him into his sukkah pretending to protest, I discovered an absolute smorgasbord, way more than just he and his mother would need– stacked Tupperware containers filled with two kinds of homemade borekas, beans and rice, chicken, homemade challah…as I chewed the host told me his mother once won second-place in a major Israeli cooking contest. It wasn’t hard to understand why. The quality of the food matched the quality of the company and conversation. This–fullness, kindness, neighborliness–is the essence of Sukkot and these themes repeated themselves in nearly all my experiences during the holiday: On Shabbat Chol HaMoed, I ate with host families from Yedidya and Shira Hadasha who likewise very much understood the point of the holiday.

Sunday, I went with a bunch of other Pardes students on the Alex Singer Hike. Alex Singer (don’t miss the Hagada) was an American who made alyiah in the ’80′s, joined the Army, and was killed in Lebanon by terrorists in 1987, leaving behind his beautiful letters and drawings, which have since been collected into a book. Each year, in his memory, his family organizes a hike somewhere in Israel in honor of him and his deep love for the Land. This year’s was in Kfar Uriya, a small town right where the coastal plain meets the Judean Hills. At one point I spoke to Alex’s father (his whole family has since made aliya and his brother is Saul Singer, a columnist for the Jerusalem Post and co-author of Start-Up Nation) as we hiked, and when he asked why I came ,I told him the truth: As inspiring as Alex’s story is, I never heard of him when I signed up for the hike, all I knew was that I love hiking and this sounded like a great chance to take my first trek outside Jerusalem since arriving. He responded by pointing out that, from where we were standing, I actually could see most of the country, and he was right: Standing on the hills right as they meet the plain, I could see Tel-Aviv was against the horizon in front of me, Modiin to my right, Ashdod distantly to my left, and when I turned around, I saw the hills leading up to Jerusalem behind me, not to mention the ancient and modern farmland and the little moshav of Kfar Uriya immediately surrounding me on all sides. Pictures here. (The kid in the Pitt shirt is the son of one of our rabbis. I told him how much I liked his shirt and he just said “I’ve never actually been to Pittsburgh.”) It’s unreal just how small and beautiful this country is.
All during the hike, people who knew Alex (who comprised just about all of the hiking group not from Pardes) shared memories of what an amazing and special person he was. As beautiful and moving as the memories were, what their reminiscing got me to thinking about most was whether I would want people reading select choices from my writings to make me out to be some kind of saint if–God forbid–something happened to me, and the thought made me sick. Perhaps this is why the most profound memories of Alex, for me, were those shared by the couple he used to babysit for who generously gave me a ride home. They said they go on the hike each year, but they feel very uncomfortable at events like this because people tend to make him into “St. Alex,” which they said he wasn’t. They said if I talked to people about him, I should tell them that, special as he was, Alex was ultimately a person, just like anyone else. Sometimes he was goofy, and sometimes, they said, he even got annoying. Just like a real person. To emphasize their point, they asked me if I would want people treating me in a similar fashion if God-forbid something happened to me and I answered maybe a little too quickly with a resounding “No!” Though, thinking about it now, there are worse ways to be remembered…

When I first heard of the Gilad Shalit deal, I was strongly opposed–he seems so familiar to me that when I think of him I usually just call him “Gilad” without even thinking about it, like I know him, yet even still I can’t understand the logic of jeopardizing all of Israel to redeem the life of one person–yes, every life is precious, and that is exactly why we can’t take such a big risk. I’d like to say I went to the Knesset or the Shalit family’s tent tent to experience his redemption first-hand with Israelis, but I didn’t. Instead I stayed in my room and followed the live blog on Haaretz, updating it every few minutes, anxiously gobbling up the latest news and pictures exactly like I would have done back in the States if I didn’t have anything to be up for the next morning. The whole time my brain kept telling me this is nothing to celebrate, yet with each new image of Gilad–Gilad looking emaciated as a concentration camp survivor being cruelly “interviewed” by Egyptian TV, Gilad arriving back home in Israel where he belongs–my heart swelled bigger and bigger in spite of my brain’s protestations, so that by the time I saw the first pictures of Gilad embracing his family, who has endured things no one should ever have to know, my brain knew full well what it could do with its logic. As a Jew, I should know by now that this “logic” business doesn’t apply in Israel: If we were “logical,” we never would have even considered negotiating this deal to begin with. If we were “logical” we would have been rioting instead of celebrating. If we were “logical,” people would have been calling for Bibi’s head instead of calling it one of his finest moments. But then again, if we were “logical,” we wouldn’t exist. And I’m one to talk– if I were so “logical” I wouldn’t have taken a year out of my life to go on a trip I can’t afford to a pushy, maladjusted little country in the Middle-East to learn books written 1,000′s of years ago that most probably won’t really help my career plans nor would I get excited about leaving my good apartment to eat in a booth and getting up early each morning to perform an arcane ritual involving shaking overpriced flora. So what do I do about this horribly unfair deal? I’ll pursue the only reasonable, illogical option available to me: I’ll pray.

I eventually did make my way outside on Tuesday to find people crowded around TVs, the sign on the left everywhere, and myself able to understand at least one word in every conversation, “Gilad.” It was something I’ll never forget.

Translation: "How good that you've come home!!!"

As it happens, I had been planning a party under my sukkah that night since before the deal, and it didn’t take long for the conversation to turn to Gilad. It didn’t take long for the tone to become typically Jewish, but I wouldn’t have wanted it any other way.

Speaking of times for rejoicing, Simchat Torah was amazing, though I admit it was an abrupt transition–I’m used to having a day of Shmini Atzeret to rest and eat up in preparation for Simchat Torah, but here, with the one-day Yom Tov, you are thrust right from the week into the chaos–one minute you’re checking your email, the next you’re riding on your friends’ shoulders screaming Hebrew songs and hi-fiveing strangers. I went to Pardes’ celebration Wednesday night, and it really was fantastic, different from the Chabad House celebrations I’m used to but no less fun and crazy, then to a great after party featuring, in addition to the wonderful people, maybe the greatest applecake I’ve ever eaten, and that’s saying a lot. I went to Shira Hadasha on Thrusday morning for what, between the dancing, and Hallel, and everyone getting an aliya, and Kiddush before Musaf, and Yizkor, turned out to be the longest service of the year, longer than Yom Kippur, though with considerably more dancing and eating. By the time services ended, and a group of friends and I ate at a friends house, the 25 hour ecstatic episode was over as soon as it began. During the lunch, my friends and I realized none of us had plans for Shabbat and began planning a meal together. This planning led to us hanging out under my friend’s sukkah listening to music and drinking beer long into the night. The next day at noon, we all met up again to cook our meal: challah with salatim (dips), Israeli salad (that I made!) with cheese, butternut squash soup with cheese, spicy Chinese tofu with rice that I learned how to make, and Marzipan and fruit salad for dessert.
That night, we davened Kabbalat Shabbat at Mizmor LeDavid, a wonderful nusach Sfard shul made up of almost entirely white Ashkenazi English-speaking olim that is arguably the hippie-est, singy-est, Carlebachy-est Orthodox shul in Jerusalem, and, as anyone whose been following my shul-hopping knows, that’s saying a lot. I had already been there for services the first day of Sukkot and enjoyed it, but I heard from many people that if you haven’t been there for Kabbalat Shabbat, you just haven’t been there. They were right. By Psalm 96, the small shul was packed—almost literally bursting at the seams—on both sides of the mechitza, all of them singing passionately, eyes closed, at the top of their lungs, pounding any and every available surface to the beat, or else stretching out their arms to Heaven, just totally and completely losing themselves in the prayer, pouring their entire soul into this tornado of ruakh so powerful and so inescapable that even an object so unmovable as Richard Dawkins would have had no choice but to find himself utterly swept up in it. Within 5 minutes of crossing the threshold, he would be pounding his siddur, and shaking his head, tears beading in his shut eyes, feeling Rav Shlomo’s Shiru L’Hashem with us. It was an incredibly amazing experience, definitely in my top 3 Kabbalat Shabbats, and was made even better by the fact that (speaking of Jewish hippies) seemingly half of Pardes was there. I will be back next week.

The spirit continued at the meal. The food turned out fantastic and we had equally great conversation over it. Once we could eat no more, we sat around and read chapters of the first half of The Little Prince to each other. I’m not sure how I managed to go 23 years without ever reading that book or attending a Mizmor Kabbalat Shabbat, but thank God I experienced both now before I could become too much in danger of ever becoming a grown-up.
Shabbat morning we went back to Mizmor. While the guy passing out snuff midway through the morning services made a noble effort at bridging the gap between the spiritual levels of the Friday night and Saturday morning services, even with performance-enhancing substances, the energy level, while still higher than most other shuls, still just wasn’t the same as the previous night. But it was a rollicking service nonetheless and it gave me a great idea for how to boost membership at YPS when I get back. (No, Mom, I didn’t take any.)

For lunch we and our guest had leftovers and a vegetable bake we didn’t have room to even consider starting the previous night. After stuffing ourselves again we finished The Little Prince. Around sunset, we woke up from our naps, davened Mincha, ate cake and leftovers, then went out to the mirpeset to welcome the stars with song. By the time the sun set, we were all feeling very full.
Quote of the Week: “I don’t want to lecture anymore about Zionism and decisionmaking. I’d rather tell you about walking through a wadi in the middle of the night with a million stars over my head, and singing as I walk because I’m so content and so enjoying myself, and climbing mountains and looking over the desert, and seeing eagles and a huge waddling porcupine, and the goodness of the rest which always comes after a night of trekking with so much weight on my shoulders. There are nights which make the weight disappear, and I love those nights.

I’m feeling wonderful and very much at peace with my decision to stay on.”
-Alex Singer, July 5, 1986

Hebrew Word of the Week חופש (“khofesh”) – Freedom

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a Shuk experience

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I wrote this last Friday, after Sukkot:

Someone dear to me used to say I saw the big picture bigger and the details as if through a microscope, but couldn’t see the real world as it exists in front of me. Is that why I set off happily for the shuk today, oblivious to the obvious fact that, after a week of entertaining in the sukkah, and with Shabbat just hours away, everybody in Jerusalem would be restocking their refrigerators and pantries today? After being elbowed, tramped on, shoved out of the way and worse, I got what I needed (bare minimums) and got out of there. Not quite everything–for the second time at Marzipan Bakery, I chose what I wanted, handed it to the cashier, and it disappeared. I hope whoever took my stuff likes poppy seeds, and I hope they paid for it. But wow! You should have seen the mounds of freshly baked challah, the HUGE still hot from the oven pitas, the stacks of pastries of every shape and filling, the brilliantly hued fruits and vegetables, even the glistening stinking fish heads, lined up with their mouths gaping at passersby. Strangely, the buses weren’t even half full. I’ll take what I can get. Being here, seeing (and feeling and smelling) the swarms of people is a high not to replicated anywhere. And yes, people were still talking about the release of Gilad Shalit. Not much anger or animosity, mostly sympathy and hopes that he will recover quickly and completely from his ordeal. I hope the same for the released Arab prisoners, that they should grow tall and not warped with hate from their time in prison. Somehow, some way this fraternal fighting HAS to stop. A beneficent G-d could not have created a world in which peace is out of reach, if we only know how to stretch ourselves to find it. Shabbat shalom everyone. To my guys at Hashkama minyan–I wish I could cook for you with the bounty on display here. Maybe next year?

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זמן שמחתנו The Time of our Joy

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Originally posted on Darkeynu דרכינו:

Here are some thoughts I shared with Shechter Westchester students about todays (this was originally posted a few days ago) events:

Gilad Shalit….Gilad Ben Aviva Shalit.

For too long this simple name has been in the prayers of Jews throughout the world, as we have waited and wondered about this young man’s future. When will Gilad come home? When will he be free? When will he have the chance to hug his parents, to see his friends, to live his life?

Last Tuesday, when news broke that Gilad was finally on his way home, my friends and I immediately jumped on Egged bus 71; we went down Derekh Hevron, across Gan Ha’pa’amon, and up Keren Hayesod. As the bus approached the Fuchsberg center, we quickly jumped off and ran down the street to the tent that Gilad’s family had set up. We expected that this tent—which for 5 years had been a solemn symbol of our yearning for his return—would have transformed into a party, a yom ha’atzmaut take-2.

Instead, we found quiet, scared parents gathered all around. While there was definitely a real excitement, there was also a genuine fear—tekhef tireh—we’ll believe it when it actually happens.

This morning, at about 8 am, I stood waiting for that same Egged bus. Except this time, the sign that read “Mikhakim lecha babayit (we’re waiting for you at home)” was replaced by one declaring “Kamah tov she batah habaitah (how good it is that you’ve come home).” As we got on the bus the radio was blasting, and everyone was crammed towards the front trying to listen to Gilad’s first interview. “Beynenu chozer, beynenu chozer (our son is returning, our son is returning) an old lady cries.

As I get off the bus, and return to that same tent, the trepidation has completely disappeared, and has been replaced with a contagious jubilation. Beynenu chozer, our son has come home.

Still, there are genuine fears. 1,027 freed prisoners is a large price to pay. It hurts the families of those killed by these very individuals. It incites a great fear that they may return to their terrorist tendencies. Will these terrorists continue to kill? What will come next? Has this given incentive to Hamas to keep stealing our soldiers? The fear is real, justified, and pervasive. But, it is also on hold.

For now, all fear is momentarily shelved away, as we come together to declare “am Yisrael chai.” Today Israel is not worried about consequences or potential fallout. Today, Israel can stand proud. It really is a miracle, and I am humbled to have been given the chance to experience it.

So, as I left the tent, on my way to Ben Yehudah street for some lunch, a man, a stranger, an average Israeli, turned to me and said in a deep accent, “be’emet, today, we can say ve’samachta be’chagecha.” Let us celebrate zman simchateynu (the time of our joy), and continue to greet everyone with a moadim lesimcha (time for joy). Today, in this country, in our country, you can see and feel the meaning of Jewish pride.

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Welcome Home Gilad

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Today is an amazing day for Israel and Israelis. Gilad Shalit who was was imprisoned in Gaza by Hamas for over five years, 1,941 days, was freed this morning after long negotiations in a prisoner exchange. 1,027 prisoners were released from Israel for Gilad’s return.


Many people are upset about the exchange, saying how could Israel release these murders for one life. But as a sister, daughter, and hopefully one day a mother, I believe Israel did the right thing. I am really proud to be an Israeli today. A good friend and rabbi said this, “Israel is like no another country. People may say that because we value life so much and care about each other so much -it is our greatest weakness, but it is actually our greatest strength.” I am happy to live in a country and be a citizen of a country that so greatly values life and sticks to its word. I really understand people’s concerns with releasing so many terrorists, but we don’t know what the future will bring. And so today we must rejoice that Israel saved a life and reunited a family.

Originally posted at: http://alwiese.blogspot.com/

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Sukkot

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Immediately following Yom Kippur, the hammer blows could be heard echoing behind my building. I was mightily surprised when I heard those construction noises following a fast, “who could be working now?” I thought, before realizing we had begun the transition to Sukkot.

All over town sukkot of all varieties began popping up on sidewalks, balconies, backyards, courtyards, even on the back of a truck. The ongoing physical labor was light-hearted, a stark contrast to the serious internal labor of the previous ten days. For me, it’s wonderful to see people rejoicing with a bounty of food while spending time with friends and family. Special thank yous to my hosts from yesterday who were just so gracious in opening and sharing their homes.

This sukkot will be one of lasting memory for the Schalit family, as they prepare to welcome home their son Gilad after five years as a captive of Hamas. While you’d be hard-pressed to find somebody who was not elated about Gilad Schalit’s return, questions are being asked about the cost. Redeeming captives is a mitzva, but at what point does the cloudy future that results from doing said mitzva mean that the mitzva should be pushed off? At this juncture, I am not presenting my view, just asking a question for discussion, one that will be debated around Shabbat tables and in sukkot all over the Jewish world.

Moadim l’simcha, Shabbat shalom.

http://shibbleseyes.blogspot.com/

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