A poem of Rabbi Yehudah HaLevi - The Hall of G-d

I'm working on translating a poem of Rabbi Yehudah HaLevi. I find this challenging because I prefer to be literal, but I want to preserve the poetry. I'd welcome corrections/suggestions:

The Hebrew:

הֵיכַל ד' וּמִקְדַּשׁ הֲדֹמוֹ

,גָּלָה כְבוֹדוֹ וְנִפְזַר עַמּוֹ

וּמִמֶרְחַקִּים יִדְרְשׁוּ שְׁלוֹמוֹ

.וְיִשְׁתַּחֲווּ לוֹ אִישׁ מִמְּקוֹמוֹ

גּוֹלִים בְּמַעֲרָב בְּכוּשׁ וּמִצְרָיִם

,מְגַמַּת פְּנֵיהֶם יְרוּשָׁלָיִם

,אֶל אֲבִיהֶם אֲשֶׁר בַּשָּׁמָיִם

.לַעֲמֹד לְשָׁרְתוֹ וּלְבָרֵךְ בִּשְׁמוֹ

אוֹבֵד בְּעֵילָם וְנִדָּח בְּשִׁנְעָר

.לְדֶרֶךְ אַרְצוֹ פִּיהוּ יִפְעַר

מִבֵּין שִׁנֵּי זְאֵבֵי יָעַר

.וּמִתּוֹךְ צַעַר יַחֲזִיק בְּתֻמּוֹ

,גָּלוּת צִיּוֹן אֲשֶר בִּסְפָרַד

בַּעֲרָב מְפֻזָּר וּבֶאֱדוֹם מְפֹרָד

לִפְאַת מִקְדָּשׁ יִתַּר וְיֵחֱרַד

.לְבָבוֹ, כְּגָמוּל עֲלֵי אִמּוֹ

,שָׁפַךְ תְּפִלָּה, וְצוּר מִתְעַלֵּם

.וְשָׁמַע חֲרָפוֹת וַיְהִי כְאִלֵּם

בְשׁוּב שְׁבוּת צִיּוֹן הָיָה כְּחוֹלֵם

.ובַהֲקִיצוֹ, אֵין פּוֹתֵר חֲלוֹמוֹ

מָתַי אֶקְרָא וְאַתָּה תִרְצֶה

,וְאֶת מִשְׁפָּטִי לָאוֹר תּוֹצֵא

,וְיִוָּדַע, יוֹם תַּצִּיל וְתִפְצֶה

?אֱמֶת כִּי רוֹצֶה ד‘ בְּעַמּוֹ

Translation:

The Hall of G-d, the Sanctuary that is His footstool,¹

His honour is exiled, His nation scattered,²

and from afar they seek His welfare,³

and bow to Him, each from his place.⁴

Exiled in the West, in Kush and Egypt,⁵

the goal of their faces is Jerusalem,⁶

toward their Father in the heavens,

to stand to serve Him and to bless in His Name.⁷

Wandering in Elam and pushed away in Shinar,⁸

to the path toward his land he opens his mouth.⁹

From between the teeth of the wolves of the forest,¹⁰

and in the midst of pain he maintains his purity.¹¹

The exile of Zion in Spain,¹²

in Arabia scattered, and in Rome divided,¹³

in the direction of the Sanctuary will leap and tremble¹⁴

his heart, like a weaned child for his mother.¹⁵

He pours out prayer, and the Rock remains hidden,¹⁶

and he hears calumny, and is as one mute.

Of the return of Zion’s captives he is as a dreamer,¹⁷

and when he awakes – none can explain his dream.¹⁸

When will I cry out and You will desire,¹⁹

and You will produce my verdict before the light,²⁰

and it will be known, on the day You rescue and release,²¹

that in truth, G-d desires His nation?

Related verses:

¹ Yeshayah 66:1

² Shemuel I 4:21, Esther 3:8

³ Yirmiyahu 8:19

⁴ Tzefaniah 2:11

⁵ Yeshayah 11:11

⁶ Chavakuk 1:9, Daniel 6:11

⁷ Devarim 10:8

⁸ Yeshayah 11:11, 27:13

⁹ Iyov 29:23

¹⁰ Yirmiyahu 5:6

¹¹ Iyov 2:3

¹² Ovadia 1:20

¹³ Esther 3:8

¹⁴ Iyov 37:1

¹⁵ Tehillim 131:2

¹⁶ Tehillim 102:1

¹⁷ Tehillim 126:1

¹⁸ Bereishit 41:8

¹⁹ Yeshayah 58:9

²⁰ Yeshayah 51:4

²¹ Yirmiyahu 9:17, Tehillim 144:10

Two reflections from a wonderful Shabbos

I had the pleasure of hearing Rabbi Dr. Avraham Steinberg speak three times this past Shabbos, on issues related to advances in reproductive medicine and the question of how we define (1) human being, (2) mother, and (3) father. I've read him and many others on these topics before, but live is different, particularly when you are hearing from a person who has discussed these questions with many of the leading halachic authorities of the past forty years.

Listening to the shiurim brought home a couple of key points I have thought about before, but perhaps not as clearly:

1. The hierarchy of halachic authority when dealing with cutting-edge questions

There are people like me, who read as widely as possible and disseminate the information in classes. Our contribution is in making the information accessible, and perhaps, occasionally, raising a question for those higher up to discuss.

On the next rung up are the people who deal with these issues regularly, perhaps professionally, and not only when preparing a shiur. They are fluent in the relevant Torah and technical sources, and they converse with the major halachic authorities of the day. They raise the questions, provide information on the technical issues, study the work of the major halachic authorities and discuss and challenge and debate with them.

On the highest rung are the top halachic authorities. They have achieved this role by dint of their breadth and brilliance, demonstrated in their publications. They possess the creativity and diversity of knowledge to find precedents for dealing with new issues, and the depth of analytical skill to either pick apart those precedents or defend them against challenge.

This is important for someone in my position to remember; there is a real difference between the levels, and it should not be blurred.

2. The centrality of Israel

To the best of my recollection, the only non-Israeli halachic authority from the past 100 years to be mentioned in any of the three presentations was Rabbi Moshe Feinstein – and then only briefly. To my mind, this was not because Rabbi Dr. Steinberg was biased against any of the great halachic authorities of the Diaspora, but because the ones who are dealing with these issues, and publishing articles and teshuvot on them, tend to be in Israel. 

Depressingly, most of the names cited were of authorities who have left this world – Rav Elyashiv, Rav Shlomo Zalman Auerbach, Rav Eliezer Waldenberg, Rav Shaul Yisraeli, Rav Ovadia Yosef, Rav Unterman, Rav Neuwirth… but the point remains strong: This is yet another example of the fact that Jewish life in Israel is strong, and Jewish life outside of Israel is only, as it should be, a satellite.

Yet another reason for aliyah.

Unconditional Love

[Post I’m reading – The Yahrtzeit of Rav Yisrael Salanter, at Modern Uberdox]

Many years ago, when the world was young, I dated a girl who was bothered by the idea that my feelings for her might be, to use the term from Pirkei Avot, תלויה בדבר, dependent upon something external that wasn’t really her. Like the world, I was rather young in those days, and I don’t know that I fully grasped what she was talking about… and it didn’t matter in the long run, as I ended up marrying the wonderful Rebbetzin instead.

The memory of those conversations about אהבה שאינה תלויה בדבר (unconditional love) came to mind during the last few days, though, during my all-too-short stay here in Israel.

As always, being here has intensified my frustration at living in the Golah. In some part it’s due to the same litany of reasons I’ve discussed on the blog before; read the eight posts linked here to see those discussions. But it’s also something else, leading to this ninth post on the subject. At this point, it’s אהבה שאינה תלויה בדבר, a love which is not dependent upon anything in particular. It’s unconditional.

Maybe this is because aliyah has been a goal for me for so long (twenty years and counting) that the very goal-ness of it has overtaken any specific reason for moving here. My satisfaction is no longer tied to the reasons for moving to Israel, but to the move itself. If I were to move here and not have any of my reasons fulfilled, I would be happy just because I was here.

(It’s sort of like the shul rabbinate, come to think of it. People ask me what I miss about the pulpit, and I have a long list of answers, but at the end of the day it’s just that I enjoyed being Rabbi. But I digress.)

One other thought, while I’m writing: I enjoy visiting fruit markets in Israel, just to admire the produce grown in this wonderful land. I sometimes feel a little guilty about this, because the gemara (Sotah 14a) declares that Moshe did not want to enter Israel for the sake of its fruit – as the gemara asks, “וכי לאכול מפריה הוא צריך, או לשבוע מטובה הוא צריך? Did he need to eat from her fruit, or did he need to be sated from her goodness?”

But it occurred to me just yesterday that the sages included those very words in the berachah we recite after eating, thanking Gd for giving us this land “לאכול מפריה ולשבוע מטובה to eat from her fruit and to be sated from her goodness.” I guess if it’s good enough for the berachah, it’s good enough for me.

Reason #723 for Aliyah

[A post that's on my mind today: "Haredim are worse then crime and prostitution"]

During our trip to Israel this past summer, we spent a lot of time with friends who have made aliyah. All of them, of course, asked us about our own chances, discussing various issues in their own klitah.

One of them gave us her most-compelling reason for aliyah, and it was a bit unusual: Keeping the next generation together.

In a nutshell, the idea is this: People who live in North America tend to have kids who spread out, so that those kids’ children rarely see their first cousins, let alone second cousins. (This is not quite true in Toronto, where the great majority seem to settle down in this city, but the general point is valid.) Better to make aliyah, so that if the kids remain in Israel, they will all be within a couple of hours of each other.

The idea is funny, when compared with other reasons like Ahavas Eretz Yisrael, mitzvos of Eretz Yisrael, bringing Mashiach, living in a Jewish land, escaping virulent anti-Semitism and so on. Nonetheless, the point resonates.

We were at a family simcha recently, and because we live in Canada and our siblings are scattered around the American Northeast, our kids rarely see aunts and uncles and cousins. I saw siblings I haven’t seen since last Pesach, and that gap of 8 months is normal. Another branch of the family is spread between Baltimore, New York and Chicago; same problem, I expect. Granted that when we lived in Pennsylvania, much closer to New York, we still didn’t visit much, but we had more opportunites then than we do now. And knowing what I know now about life and about travel, I would take the opportunities now – but the opportunities are no longer present.

Of course, aliyah would make it less likely that my children would get to know their own non-Israeli first cousins – but the next generation would have that hope.

Interesting.

Yom haZikaron, Yom haAtzmaut, and something larger than ourselves

I always cry on Yom haZikaron [Israel's Memorial Day], and this year was no exception as I listened to Cheryl Mandel, mother of Daniel Mandel z"l, speak at our local commemoration.

I am always moved to joy on Yom haAtzmaut [Israel's Independence Day], and this year was no exception to that, either.

But I did learn something new this year. I think I now understand a little bit more than before about why these days grab at me so, why aliyah grabs at me so, and even why the rabbinate grabs at me so.

Rabbi Dr. Abraham Twerski talks about how people harbor a hunger to give of themselves to others, to be more than just a machine that eats and sleeps and takes care of a myriad physical functions today in order to do them again tomorrow. (Or maybe he doesn’t talk about that, and it’s just what I’ve made up, hallucinating he said it. But it rings true regardless.)

We want to be part of something greater than our own small survival, and the feeling grows as we age and realize just how inevitably doomed that small survival is. It's a feeling that inspires people to build families, to volunteer for organizations, to give philanthropically, and so on. It's what some people call a 'search for meaning.'

I feel that. I get seriously depressed when I think about a self-centered existence, my own as well as that of others. It’s so… futile.

I think that’s one of the major reasons I went for the rabbinate, to be a crucial part of families and a community, something greater than myself.

And I think that’s one of the major reasons why aliyah calls to me: the desire to be part of that ambitious enterprise, the return of our people to our home.

I know the feeling of “part of something greater” wears off pretty quickly for an oleh as he gets cut by another "part of something greater" on a long line, or deals with the bureaucracy of "something greater" in an office, and so on, but I’m on the other end right now, and from here the idea of being part of this nation Israel is very attractive.

It tugs at me on Yom haZikaron, and Yom haAtzmaut. I am jealous; I want to be part of that greater entity, with all of the pain that it brings, as well as the celebration, the crying as well as the joy and dancing.

Oh, but these days are a great antidote for my inner cynic.

Yom haAtzmaut: Israel as Motherland and Mother

I wrote the following article for YU's "Yom ha'Atzmaut To-Go," but since that publication will not be issued in print (available here at YU Torah, though), I'll circulate it here.

The theme is simple, but important to me - Rav Yissachar Techtel introduces us to a unique concept in our love for Israel, and our imperative for aliyah: Israel as a conscious Motherland.

The theme needs greater expansion, which I intend to present in a shiur at the BAYT on Sunday morning, but here is my article on the topic:

ותאמר ציון עזבני ה' וה' שכחני

And Zion said: G-d has abandoned me, and G-d has forgotten me. (1)

לא יאמר לך עוד עזובה ולארצך לא יאמר עוד שממה כי לך יקרא חפצי בה

You shall no longer be called ‘Abandoned,’ and your land will no longer be called ‘Desolate,’ for you will be called ‘My desire is in her.’ (2)

Israel as our beloved intimate
The Jew has known many reasons for his millennia-old longing for the Land of Israel; our thrice-daily recitations of “ותחזינה עינינו בשובך לציון ברחמים, Let our eyes see when You return mercifully to Zion,” have been fueled by motivations both religious and secular, personal and national. Focus of the biblical universe, cradle of our nation, throne of King David’s theocentric empire, haven from our foes, coordinate at which our mitzvot are most practical and practicable, host of our most palpable connection to the world of the spirit, terraced hills across which the plangent Divine declaration, “פה אשב כי אויתיה, Here I will dwell, for I have desired her (3), ” still echoes – Eretz Yisrael has been all of these for the genetic and spiritual heirs of Avraham and Sarah.

In the vision of Rav Avraham Yitzchak haKohen Kook and Rav Yissachar Techtel, though, the Land of Israel plays a more active role. Earth and stone and river and sea are anthropomorphized as limbs controlled by a humanesque consciousness, and the space formerly known as Canaan is identified as a living being, an independent spiritual entity to whom we are bonded.

Rav Kook stated this explicitly:

ארץ ישראל איננה דבר חיצוני, קנין חיצוני לאומה, רק בתור אמצעי למטרה של ההתאגדות הכללית והחזקת קיומה החמרי או אפילו הרוחני. ארץ ישראל היא חטיבה עצמותית קשורה בקשר חיים עם האומה...

The Land of Israel is not an external thing, an external prize acquired by the nation, a means toward the end of national unification and reinforcement of the nation’s physical or even spiritual survival. The Land of Israel is an independent entity, bound to the nation in the bond of life… (4)

Seen in this light, Yeshayah’s identification of Zion as a bride is part of a broader depiction of the Land of Israel as a thinking, feeling, loving and beloved intimate who longs for us to return home.

Anthropomorphic land
Description of land as a thinking, feeling entity did not originate with the Land of Israel; the midrash places this concept at the start of the Torah, in the Divine creation of the third day, when G-d charged the land to create both עץ פרי and עץ עושה פרי, fruit tree and fruit-producing tree, but it only produced the latter:

ולמה נתקללה... ר' יהודה בר' שלום אמר שעברה על הצווי שכך אמר הקב"ה תדשא הארץ וגו' מה הפרי נאכל אף העץ נאכל, והיא לא עשתה כן...

Why was the land cursed? Rabbi Yehudah ben Rabbi Shalom said: She trespassed G-d’s command. G-d said, ‘Let the land produce vegetation, etc ’ meaning that just as the fruit is edible, so the tree should be edible, and she did not do this. (5)

The concept of territorial consciousness does not end with Creation, either, and it is not limited to wicked rebellion; the sages also envisioned stones desiring to serve righteous Yaakov. The Torah records an overnight condensing of Yaakov’s protective stones from the plural (6) to the singular (7), and regarding this change the sages explained:

כתיב ויקח מאבני המקום, וכתיב ויקח את האבן! אמר רבי יצחק: מלמד שנתקבצו כל אותן אבנים למקום אחד, וכל אחת ואחת אומרת עלי יניח צדיק זה ראשו; תנא: וכולן נבלעו באחד.

It is written, ‘And he took from the stones of the site,’ and it is written, ‘And he took the stone!’
Rabbi Yitzchak explained: This teaches that all of the stones were gathered to one place, and each one said, ‘This tzaddik will rest his head on me.’ We learned: All of them became absorbed into one. (8)

Many more classic sources ascribe consciousness to a range of inanimates, from the sun and moon to the plant kingdom. Certainly, at least some of these texts are meant to provide moral instruction rather than to describe ex-cerebrum thought processes. Nonetheless, the identity of Israel as person, as thinking and feeling entity, and particularly as mother to the Jewish people, adds depth of meaning to our exile, and intensifies the imperative for our return.

The meaning of Motherland
In itself, envisioning our birthplace as Motherland is not unique to the Jewish people; numerous nations describe their homelands in maternal terms, depicting these spaces as environments which passively provide nourishment, security and familiar comfort. As Professor Rosemary Marangoly George wrote (9), “Home is a place to escape to and a place to escape from. Its importance lies in the fact that it is not equally available to all. Home is the desired place that is fought for and established as the exclusive domain of a few. ” Our concept of Israel as Mother transcends this role, though; we envision the Land of Israel as an active matriarch, actively protecting us and summoning us home.

The Torah portrays mothers as dynamic protectors, intervening and risking their own well-being on behalf of their young. From Sarah declaring that Yishmael would not inherit “with my son, with Yitzchak,(10)” to Rivkah arranging Yaakov’s blessing and accepting his curse upon herself (11), to Rachel pleading with G-d on behalf of her descendants (12), to Batsheva orchestrating her son Shlomo’s ascendancy to the throne and then arranging the downfall of his challenger Adoniyahu (13), the Jewish “mother” is more than nurturer. The mother is a lioness, acting to ensure the safety and success of her offspring.

Along the same lines, the Land of Israel is seen as an active Mother for the Jewish people, evicting unworthy tenants and invoking her own merit on behalf of her longed-for children.

Rav Yissachar Techtel (14) saw this message in the Divine promise (15) to remember Avraham, Yitzchak, Yaakov and “The Land”:

ומתורת משה רבינו בעצמו למדתי זאת בפ׳ בחקתי כתיב וזכרתי את בריתי יעקב ואף את בריתי יצחק ואף את בריתי אברהם אזכור והארץ אזכור... כי עיין ברש״י שם שכתב למה נמנו אחורנית כלומר כדאי הוא יעקב הקטן לכך ואם אינו כדאי הרי יצחק עמו ואם אינו כדאי הרי אברהם עמו עיי״ש ועפי״ז יש להוסיף דאף אם כולם אינם כדאים היינו באופן דתמה זכות אבות ח״ו אבל ו״הארץ אזכור״ דזכות ארץ ישראל תחלצם ממיצר... היא תגן עלינו לחלצנו ממיצר בכל עת שאנו נתונים בצרה, ר"ל.

I have learned this from the Torah of our master Moshe himself. It is written, ‘And I will remember My covenant with Yaakov, and also My covenant with Yitzchak, and also My covenant with Avraham I will remember, and the land I will remember.’… Rashi there wrote, ‘Why are they listed in reverse? As if to say: Yaakov the youngest is worthy of this, and if he is not worthy then Yitzchak is with him, and if he is not worthy then Avraham is with him.’
Based on this, one may add that even if all of them are unworthy, meaning that the merit of our ancestors has ended, still, ‘The land I will remember,’ for the merit of the Land of Israel itself will save them from trouble… She will protect us, to free us whenever we are placed in trouble, Heaven forbid.

Like Queen Esther approaching Achashverosh and offering herself on behalf of her people, the Land of Israel approaches HaShem and offers her own merit on our behalf.

Returning to our mother
This personification of Israel as mother and protector should add a dimension to our longing for aliyah, inflaming our souls and inspiring our national return to Israel with the greatest urgency. Our impulse to return is not only a selfish desire to live in the land of our ancestors, or to use the land and its products for our rituals. We are not only walking the Bible and laying claim to the once and future home of the Beit haMikdash. Rather, we are returning to our mother, to a being who longs to have her children restored.

A midrash highlights the intensity of this longing:

אמר ירמיהו כשהייתי עולה לירושלים נטלתי עיני וראיתי אשה אחת יושבת בראש ההר, לבושיה שחורים ושערה סתור צועקת מבקשת מי ינחמנה, ואני צועק ומבקש מי ינחמני, קרבתי אצלה ודברתי עמה, ואמרתי לה אם אשה את דברי עמי ואם רוח את הסתלקי מלפני, ענתה ואמרה לי, אינך מכירני, אני היא שהיו לי שבעה בנים, יצא אביהם למדינת הים, עד שאני עולה ובוכה עליו הרי שניבא ואמר לי נפל הבית על שבעה בנייך והרגם, איני יודע על מי אבכה ועל מי אסתור שעריי, עניתי ואמרתי אין אתה טובה מן אמי ציון והיא עשויה מרעית לחיות השדה, ענתה ואמרה לי, אני אמך ציון

Yirmiyah said: When I ascended to Yerushalayim, I raised my eyes and saw a woman sitting atop a mountain, wearing black clothing and with her hair undone, crying out, seeking one who would console her. I cried out as well, and sought one who would comfort me. I drew close to her and spoke with her, and told her, “If you are a woman, speak with me. If you are a spirit, leave me.” She replied, “Do you not recognize me? I am the one who had seven sons whose father left to go overseas. While I was yet crying for him, it was prophesied to me, ‘The house has collapsed upon your seven sons and killed them.’ I don’t know for whom to cry, and for whom to release my hair!” I replied and told her, “You are no greater than my mother, Zion, who has been turned into grazing for the wild animals of the field.” To which she replied and said to me, “I am your mother, Zion.” (16)

Rav Kook understood the Land of Israel as a partner of the Jewish people, and this partner suffers our exile as a bereaved mother mourns for her children. Yeshayah envisioned the day when the Land of Israel would be like a bride returned to her spouse. Rav Yissachar Techtel portrayed the emotions of that reunion by describing the reunion of a mother reunited with her husband and children in the Ghetto, concluding, “So I imagine will be the joy of our mother, the Land of Israel, at the moment when all of us will return to her.” (17)

May HaShem enable us to bring that day to reality, and to see the fulfillment of Dovid haMelech’s words:

מושיבי עקרת הבית אם הבנים שמחה הללוקה

He establishes the barren woman in the house as a joyous mother of children; Praise G-d! (18)

-
Footnotes:

1. Yeshayah 49:14
2. Yeshayah 62:4
3. Tehillim 132:14
4. Rabbi Avraham Yitzchak haKohen Kook, Orot, Eretz Yisrael I
5. Midrash, Bereishit Rabbah (Vilna) 5:9
6. Bereishit 1:11-12
7. Bereishit 28:11, 18
8. Talmud, Chullin 91b; see also Midrash, Bereishit Rabbah 68:11 and Rashi to Bereishit 28:11 for some variation
9. Rosemary M. George, The Politics of Home: Postcolonial Relocations and Twentieth-Century Fiction, pg. 9
10. Bereishit 21:10
11. Bereishit 27
12. Yirmiyah 31:14
13. Melachim I 1-2
14. Rabbi Yissachar Techtel, אם הבנים שמחה, First Prologue
15. Vayyikra 26:42
16. Midrash, Psikta Rabti 26
17. Rabbi Yissachar Techtel, אם הבנים שמחה, Second Prologue
18. Tehillim 113:9

[And now for something completely different: This week's Haveil Havalim is here]

CNN presents three reasons to make Aliyah

In case you needed more reasons to pack up and move to Israel, CNN provides three new reasons to apply to Nefesh b’Nefesh:

1. The Republican party has officially gone off the deep end
Yes, it’s true. I don’t know whether this is...
...the result of a level of intellectual dysfunction that comes from an endless loop of Limbaugh,
or
...the product of a breed of cognitive dissonance that forces Republicans to see no wrong in Sarah of the North,
or
...the effect of so many US governors spontaneously combusting in the past few years that Sarah Palin doesn't seem all that unusual...

...but can anyone explain to me why, “More than seven in 10 Republicans said they would be likely to vote for Palin for the presidency?”


2. Homeland Insecurity
Why do these reports not surprise us?

Plainclothes investigators sent to test security at federal buildings in four U.S. cities were successful in smuggling bomb components through guard posts at all 10 of the sites they visited, according to a government report.
The investigators then assembled the bombs in restrooms and freely entered numerous government offices while carrying the devices in briefcases, the report said.
The buildings contained offices of several federal lawmakers as well as agencies within the departments of State, Justice and Homeland Security, which is responsible for safeguarding federal office buildings.

I mean, really. 10 out of 10? Couldn’t you even make it look difficult?

3. And then the third reason to make aliyah: Iran is no longer a threat to Israel
No, not because the US has given a green light, or even a blinking yellow light, to Israel to attack Iran’s nuclear facilities.
And not because the Iranian government has been exposed to the world for the unpopular dictatorship it is.
Rather, it's because Iran, it turns out, is actually a benign, free society, functioning at the very height of democracy:

Iranian President Mahmoud Ahmadinejad, whose re-election last month led to massive protests, on Tuesday called the balloting "the most free election anywhere in the world."
"It was a great event," he said in a nationally televised address.

You heard it from the man himself.

Israel is not Made in Germany (Derashah Naso 5769)

These words from this past Thursday are now famous:

[T]he aspiration for a Jewish homeland is rooted in a tragic history that cannot be denied. Around the world, the Jewish people were persecuted for centuries, and anti-Semitism in Europe culminated in an unprecedented Holocaust.

I appreciate President Obama’s earlier re-statement of the ‘unbreakable’ bond between the US and Israel, but I must protest this re-writing of the birth of the modern state of Israel.

Israel was not built in Roman brutality. Israel was not manufactured by Muslim massacres at Khaibar and along the Mediterranean. Israel was not created by Christian Crusades or European expulsions or the Catholic Inquisition or the pogroms of the Cossacks, and Israel certainly was not made in Germany.

Israel was made in Israel, thousands of years ago. We have more than our own Torah as evidence; we have the testimony of pottery shards and the Mesha stele and the historical memory of numerous races.

Israel is not a product of our enemies’ venomous anti-Semitism, but a product of our proud Torah and our proud ancestry.


Of course, President Obama’s speechwriters were not the first to view Israel, primarily, as a haven from our enemies.

Moses Hess wrote in 1862, [T]he Jews in exile, at least the majority of them, cannot devote themselves successfully to productive labor: in the first place, because they lack the most necessary condition - an ancestral soil; and, secondly, because they cannot assimilate with the peoples among whom they live without being untrue to their national religion and tradition. The irony, of course, is that Hess fulfilled his own dire prediction by marrying a Catholic woman.

Leo Pinsker wrote, twenty years later, We need nothing but a large piece of land for our poor brothers, a piece of land which shall remain our property, from which no foreign master can expel us. This was the idea behind the Uganda movement, which sought to acquire territory in East Africa for a Jewish land at a time when a return to Israel seemed unlikely.

Certainly, this approach of “Israel as Safe Haven” has an internal logic as well as a legitimate pedigree in modern Jewish and world history – but serious weaknesses undermine its meaning and application today.


First, what are we to make of a Jewish nation which so values its own survival that it will ride roughshod over the survival of other human beings in order to achieve it? If we desire Israel for the sake of our own security, do we not have a responsibility to help Palestinian Arabs find their security? Indeed, that was part of the president’s point of moral equivalence.

Second, in an age when millions of Jews feel comfortable and secure living outside of Israel, do we have the right to demand a homeland for our safety? Even if the world is not entirely safe for the Jew, we don’t see the Jews of North America or Australia expressing concern for their future!

And third, and most crucial for me today: Israel in the Torah was never meant to be a function of our enemies’ hatred; rather, Israel is supposed to be a positive expression of Judaism. It is the place where, as recorded in the Torah, our ancestors walked. It is the place where, according to the gemara, we can achieve purification from our sins. It is the place where, as Ramban noted, our mitzvot are real. It is the place where, as Rav Kook wrote, the Jewish heart can connect to Gd.


Indeed, in our own parshah, this is what the Nazir fails to understand regarding the Torah itself.

The nazir vows to abstain - for a period of time or indefinitely – from drinking intoxicating beverages, from contact with impurity, and from cutting his hair. These abstentions guarantee one thing: The Nazir will withdraw from society. He will drink with no one, he will mix with no one lest they contaminate him, he will grow his hair until it is long and tangled and dirty; he will become a hermit.

The gemara paints nezirut as a safety option taken by a Jew who feels that he is out of control, threatened by his own desires, but the gemara goes on to argue that this is not the purpose of Judaism and its Torah. The Torah labels nezirut a חטא, a sin; the Torah and its mitzvot are not about escaping this world for a spiritual place of our own, they are about developing and growing into model human beings.

And the same is true for Israel. Our homeland is not a mousehole to which the Jew can run and hide from the big bad Nazi. Israel is a place for the Jew to be a Jew.


But there’s a catch. If we really disagree with the President and believe what I just said, if we really believe that Israel is not only about safety but rather about creating a place where a Jew can live and develop as a Jew, if we buy the arguments of Tanach and the gemara and the Kuzari and so on, then we should all be rushing to live there, now.

Were Israel only a mousehole for protection, we could stay out of the mousehole until the cat came along. But if Israel is truly a religious imperative, then why aren’t we there, now? I don’t speak of those who have medical or financial or family reasons and the like for remaining in galut, but for the rest of us, is there any question as to where we belong?

The president’s speech should not be a simple opportunity for politicking; rather, it should be a challenge to us, all of us, a chance for us to think. If we don’t accept his narrative, if we do not view Israel as the nazir views Judaism, as an escape hatch, then let us ask ourselves what narrative we do accept, and put it into practice.

-
Notes:
1. Before you ask, "What about you, Torczyner?" know that I am in one of the categories mentioned above.

2. You can find the president's remarks here. Pinsker (Auto-Emancipation) and Hess (Rome and Jerusalem) are excerpted in Herzberg's excellent The Zionist Idea.

3. Re: Nazir - I presented the midrashic rationale for nazir, but I wonder about another type of nazir, someone who chooses nezirut as a way to fuel passion and direct intensity, as might arguably be observed in Shimshon, Shemuel and Avshalom.

Making Aliyah a Reality in Allentown, Pennsylvania

My shul, Congregation Sons of Israel in Allentown, Pennsylvania, has seen quite a few families, as well as individuals, make aliyah over the past several years. Certainly, the number of olim per capita is higher here than in many larger communities.

There are various reasons for this phenomenon, but today I am interested in finding ways to build on this success – to promote Aliyah to Israel as an achievable goal for members of our Jewish community.

Our Jewish Day School already helps, bringing in Israelis to teach and hosting girls from the “Bat Ami” program. And, of course, our shul offers both regular and special Israel-related events, and Israel is at the top of everyone’s radar screen. But I’d like to do more.

So I had a new idea just this morning, and I expect to implement it this year: A Shabbat Aliyah, juxtaposed with Yom ha’Atzmaut, in which we honor our Allentown Olim.
• I’m thinking of asking our olim to send family photographs, which we could post on the walls of the shul.
• I would ask a few of them, including a former rabbi of our shul, to send divrei torah for Friday night, Shabbat morning and Seudah Shlishit.
• I want to put up a wall mural of the map of Israel, highlighting the places where our Olim now live.

Building on that, I’d like to have an “Allentown Oleh” column in our special HaModia bulletins, which we publish six times per year. Not necessarily a political, even aliyah-oriented column; I'm thinking more of a blog post talking about life, updating us on lifecycle events, that sort of thing.

The overall idea is to make people more aware of their peers who have made aliyah, to provide insights into the process of aliyah, to help people understand כי יכול נוכל לה, that, yes, we can do this.

I find that one of the major obstacles to aliyah is simply the sense that this is a major, years-long, arduous task. In truth, it is. But Nefesh b’Nefesh has done a lot to smooth the way – and, perhaps, seeing how others have succeeded will help people to envision doing it themselves.

So I'll ask you: What ideas do you have? In particular, I’d like to hear from the Olim who read this blog – what else could we do, to promote aliyah from our shul?

We don’t have the funds to run pilot trips or start building a development, but I am a firm believer in the idea that small steps count, too - so let’s hear your advice.

Liveblogging the JFLV Mission to Israel, Day 2-3

Click here for Part I, here for Part II.

TUESDAY, continued

We resume our story with a trip to Beit haTefutsot, aka The Diaspora Museum.
I love the idea of this museum: To memorialize Jewish existence in communities outside Israel, since all of us will eventually move to Israel and those communities will disappear. My only problem is that while the communities are, indeed, losing their relevance, it's not really happening because we are making aliyah. The communities are, by and large, disappearing into the landscape.
Unfortunately, the exhibits clearly have not been updated in a while. In particular, their once-vaunted genealogy/community database is now far outstripped by Internet resources, and should either be converted into an Internet search tool or seriously mega-updated.

Then we went to the Palmach Museum, which I thought was absolutely wonderful. With its personal story and its way of incorporating the visitor into the exhibit, this creative presentation draws you into the Palmach experience of defending Jewish lives in Israel in the 1940's, before and during the formation of the State.
Here I began to think about the glaring need to draw religious and secular Israeli society together. Does the haredi in Geulah know the story of the Palmach fighter – not in a vague historical sense, but in a personal and emotional sense? Does the grandson of the Palmach fighter know the story of a Bnei Braker – again, not in a distant sense but in a direct and emotional way? What if every resident of Meah Shearim would be paired with a kibbutznik for a week, for them to really sit and talk, but also to live life together, to see the passions and emotions of the other?
Yes, I know, I'm naïve regarding the effect this would have, but I still dream.

WEDNESDAY
For Shacharit this morning we tried another shul, a small Sephardic shtiebel close to the hotel (21 Gruzenberg).
I am already a closet Sephardi; Sephardic davening and minhag pull at me, not just because they are different from my lifelong norm but because of the authenticity of their roots and the sincerity of so many of their adherents. My Cordovero blood rebels against my Torczyner Ashkenazus. This morning was no exception; I drew a lot from the experience.

Also: Today, (or really with Maariv last night), Israelis began saying v'ten tal umatar, davening for rain. Per the Mishneh Berurah's counsel, I didn't recite it, but that was really uncomfortable. How could you be in Israel at this time of year and not daven for rain?!

Our travel day began with a trip to Sderot and two nearby kibbutzim, Ruhama and Sa'ad, the latter a religious kibbutz. The disclaimer UJC insisted on giving us beforehand, regarding potential harm, reminded me of my first year in Kerem b'Yavneh. It was the year of the Gulf War, when many chutznik parents asked (or insisted) that their children come before the war. In KBY, very few of us left. My family came to Israel to be with me. To alter the Disengagement mantra, יהודי לא בורח מיהודי, a Jew does not flee from another Jew.
Turns out that forty kassams were launched at the region that morning, and they hit Ashkelon while we were in the Sderot area, but we were fine, thank Gd.
Credit is due to UJC for not skirting the problem of the Disengagement. Twice today, in Sderot and then in a program I'll describe in a few minutes, we came face-to-face with its failure.
We met with kids, saw the bomb shelters and schools, and had discussions with school personnel. My favorite part: When the principal was surprised to hear there are still Orthodox communities in America. He won my heart with that line; forget Zichron Yaakov, Kibbutz Sa'ad is for me.

In the afternoon we traveled to a few different programs in the Yoav region, our community's UJC Partnership 2000 partner area. I was approached by a man whose brother is a developer in moshavim; he wanted to know if I and a few others from the Lehigh Valley might be interested in starting a moshav for ourselves.

We also saw a play put on by families evicted in the Disengagement, and had a chance for Q&A with one of the evacuees. We talked about what the evicted families were doing now, and how people deal with the depression. I asked about political preference in the current Israeli elections, but didn't get a clear answer. As I said earlier: I'm glad the mission dealt with the Disengagement issue head-on, and didn't try to skirt it.

One post left to go - Day 4, Thursday.

The Increasing Irrelevance of the American Jewish Community

In the past year I’ve watched three of my rabbinic peers, all in the 30-40 year old prime of their rabbinate, announce their aliyah. I’ve cheered on several congregants along their path of aliyah over the past few years. While much of the decision-making process for these olim has been individual, focusing on factors like children’s education or job situation or personal Zionism, I also see in it a sign of the increasing irrelevance of the American Jewish community. (Note: This isn’t a value judgment, just an observation.) Just as individual Jewish communities move their centers of gravity over time, so the world Jewish community is inexorably moving its center to Israel.

This is not a religious statement about the centrality of Israel for Torah observance, it’s not a Zionist statement about the future of Jewish life, it’s not a negation of everything American life has offered Jews for centuries. It’s just a recognition of a social shift which is already underway.

Certainly, the American Jewish community is currently the wealthiest and most politically connected in the world, but I’m looking at this community’s relevance for the future of the Jewish people, and I see three major signs of communal irrelevance: Satellitism, Entropy and Individualism.

Satellitism:
The American Jewish community is losing its relevance because, religiously as well as politically, the American Jewish community functions increasingly as a satellite of Israeli Jewry.
For education of our children, for Birthright connections, for halachic guidance, for the leadership of institutions which address issues of modernity in the context of Judaism, we look to the Israeli Jewish community. Much of our political leadership is currently in America, and much of our philanthropic is as well, but this landscape is shifting.

Entropy:
The American Jewish community is losing its relevance because its institutional infrastructure is decaying and is not being replaced.
This is true across the spectrum of religious observances. From schools to philanthropic umbrella organizations to synagogues, the problem of funding as well as communal participation (and even communal interest) is proving difficult to solve. Major challenges include the tuition crisis, the drift away from umbrella philanthropy, Jewish disaffiliation from JCCs, and the tendency of younger Americans not to affiliate with synagogues. Just look at the numbers at the Jewish Databank’s surveys; it’s all there in the community studies.
Much institutional time and energy is being devoted to finding solutions to these major problems.
Non-Orthodox movements have developed an approach of solving the problems by negating the questions. Example: Intermarriage is not a problem, because intermarrieds can now be members, are seen to be making a legitimate lifestyle decision, and are labelled as “on the cusp of Jewish confrontation with secular society.” The biggest question is how we can serve them. Another example: The choice of sports activities over religious school is not a problem, because one can engage in sports Jewishly, and religious schools can fit everything into one afternoon a week.
Orthodoxy has done no better in solving these problems. Schools are underfunded, JCCs and Umbrella philanthropies are ignored. Institutional dissolution is considered acceptable; we’ll just look elsewhere to meet our needs. Creative, effective solutions are few and far between.

Individualism
The American Jewish community is losing its relevance because American Jews seem to be more committed to the welfare of the individual than the welfare of the community.
There just seems to be little interest in guaranteeing the future of Jewish life in America. Intermarriage rates are one indicator of this problem. Affiliation with institutions is another. A third indicator is the failure of the Jewish community to adopt any sense of sacrifice for the sake of the future. George Hanus’s “Five Percent for Jewish Education” plan is a program which could work, but I’d like to see it at 10% or 15%. It’s not going to happen, of course; too many of us are more interested in Caribbean vacations and building on to our homes and purchasing fancy cars. Think back to great-grandparents who had little to spend on food, and yet they gave money to Hebrew Loan Funds and to support mikvaos, and contributed their time to Jewish community infrastructure; today’s level of consumerism would have been unthinkable to them.

Ultimately, this may just be the natural evolution of a community, from its early growth to its institutional strength to its senescence. It may be a function of the failure of Jewish education for some, and the success of Jewish education for others, leading each group to abandon this community, whether to pursue Jewish oblivion or to pursue aliyah. Call it a Divinely orchestrated pattern of events, if you like.
As I see it: American Jewry will remain as a Jewish community, at least for the foreseeable non-Mashiach era, just as there are Jewish communities in South America, Western Europe, Eastern Europe, the FSU and Hong Kong. However, it will be a community with decreasing potency and decreasing leadership. The strongest institutions will open branches elsewhere, particularly in Israel, and those branches will eventually become their centers. Our children and their children will increase their rates of aliyah. Kibbutz Galuyot will happen naturally. בעתה אחישנה.