*Let me preface by saying that I have visited Jerusalem three or four times and each visit is filled with mystique, nuance, and learning.  This place truly is unlike anywhere else.  Its intensity both of spirituality and history leave their mark on all who walk the 5,000 year old streets.  

*Also would like to give credit to my step-dad, Steve Adelman, who encouraged me to find a way to get to the old city on this particular evening – the start of Tisha B’Av. 

Background on Tisha B’Av:   

Although relatively un-observed amongst reform and conservative communities in the United States, Tisha B’Av is one of only two major fast days in our tradition (the second being Yom Kippur).  Like Yom Kippur, Tisha B’av is a solemn day of recollection and remorse; however, unlike Yom Kippur where we individually recount and repent for sins committed during the year, Tisha B’av is a day of collective mourning and remembrance of major tragedies in Jewish History.  The fast in Jewish tradition is meant to facilitate stronger focus and connection to the spirit of the holy day.  While many incorporate modern Jewish calamities such as the Spanish Inquisition, pogroms in Europe, and the Holocaust, into their mourning, the central focus remains centered around the destruction of the first and second temples (442 BCE, 70 BCE) as well as the brutal suppression of the Bar Kochba Revolt (135 CE).  “Through the reading of the book of Lamentations or (“איכה  “) written by the Prophet Jeremiah, we reflect on some of the mistakes which lead to these terrible events: murder, idolatry, illicit relations, and senseless hatred for fellow jews” (Rabbi Avraham Goldhar @ aish.com)

Through this collective reflection we strengthen our bonds as a people and our connection with the land of Israel.  As with Shavuot, I had never in the past seriously observed this holiday before spending the summer here in Israel.  My experiences in Jerusalem on Tisha B’Av were a piece of my growing appreciation and love for the Jewish tradition that I have been lucky enough to inherit.    

Entering the Old City - Ramadan Meets Tisha B’Av:

I decided to spend the night with my friend and former roommate, Andrew Steinberg, at the Har Hatzofim campus of Hebrew University (located in East Jerusalem).  I made a quick pit stop there to drop off my things and change into more modest/traditional clothing (white dress shirt, black slacks, non-leather shoes + belt, and knitted yarmulke).  I figured that if I dressed as many orthodox would be dressed I could experience the evening in a more real/intense fashion. 

Andrew and I rode the Egged Bus #13 to the Eastern entrance to the old city.  I was immediately confronted with a reality far different from the homogenous existence of מדינת תל-אביב (“The State of Tel Aviv” – reference to its surreal/ultra-secular nature): a large number of Arab passengers.  On the bus sat a mixed crowd of yarmulkes, burkas, and crosses.  Andrew, who had moved to Jerusalem from Tel Aviv about a month previously, quickly told me to lower my voice as I asked him a question pertaining to the ownership status of certain parts of East Jerusalem.  I began to feel slightly uncomfortable as our journey continued. 

Entering through the Jaffa Gate and into the Muslim quarter of the Old City was something new for me.  Again, I was confronted by the reality that while the Jews claim Jerusalem as their most holy place in their tradition (the site of Abraham’s near sacrifice of Isaac and the capital of David’s biblical kingdom in the land promised by to the Jewish people by God), the Muslims also consider Jerusalem to be the 3^rd-most holy place in their tradition (the site of Muhammad’s “night ride” in 620 CE).  We walked down the narrow stone corridor amongst Christian tourists and ultra-orthodox Jews.  Movement down the path reached a crawl as Muslims began exiting the old city towards us upon the conclusion of their prayer observance for Ramadan that evening. 

The tension was evident not only in the small pushes and nudges that these Abrahamic religionists exchanged but also in the stinging glares that more than once caught my eye.  I chuckled in the moment for despite this tension, we all didn’t seem that different at all:

·         Just as the Muslims carried prayer rugs over their shoulders, the ultra-orthodox Jews carried blankets and pillows over theirs in preparation for sleeping at the Western Wall

·         Some people’s dress code (a robe and head-covering)

·         The remarkable spiritual connection  to the same temple mount

Andrew and I passed the off-shoot leading to the Western Wall and soon found ourselves deep in the Muslim Quarter (much to my chagrin and worry).  My choice of attire must have appeared significantly more foreign/threatening than Andrew with his short blond hair and tourist-y polo.   We made it all the way to the entrance of the al-Aqsa Mosque on the Temple Mount when we were stopped by an Israeli military policeman.  After a translation we understood he was checking to see if we were Muslim.  We explained that we were Jewish and he told us that we had gone as far as we could at that particular time. 

The three of us began talking.  I was eager to practice my Hebrew and thanked him for his service (not an easy assignment) as he was no older than me.  Just as we turned to leave a young Arab boy ran up a meter from the soldier, curled his hand into a gun and began making shooting sounds in his direction.  The soldier, most likely used to such an unfortunate outburst, seemed unaffected and simply ignored the young child.  I, however, was extremely shaken-up by the incident.  I know that kids across the world of all religions and cultures have a crazy fascination with war and guns, but something about this particular outburst did not seem so innocent.  I lost myself in anger as I contemplated the way these young children, no older than 5 years, were taught to hate Jews, taught to lash out against their neighbors.  How can any progress towards co-existence be made before both sides learn to tolerate each other’s existence, most especially in Jerusalem where 478,464 Jews and 239,232 Muslims reside together (Israeli Central Bureau of Statistics, 2008). 

Temani Prayer Circle:

The Western Wall on Tisha B’Av is happening!  We estimated between 7,000 and 10,000 people had gathered at this special place to pray, mourn, and partake in the reading of the scroll of Lamentations.  Many different circles had formed on the male side of the divide facing the Wall.  Each circle was relatively homogenous with one male leading the chanting.  All shapes and sizes of Jew had turned out that night from tourist-y, to Ashkenazi, Modern Orthodox, and תימני (Yemenite). 

Andrew and I sat on the outskirts of the largest such prayer circle.  We listened to the guttural Hebrew and followed along in prayer books without fully understanding this foreign dialect.  Without recognizing  many words, we easily understood  the kavannah (“intention”).  Many men in the circles sat their repeating words such as k’almana (“Like a Widow”) and oy mah kara lanu (“Wow, what happened to us”).  I noticed the young man to my left, not much older than me, bursting into tears repeatedly.  He clearly felt the historical tragedies as personal burdens. 

An experience that I will not soon forget!

Let me open by saying that I have not seen enough in the 7 weeks I’ve been here cooped up in a lovely office 40+ hours a week and read even less.  This post needs to be written regardless, if for no other reason than to sort out some thoughts…  

Questions of Interest:

• What role should Israel play in Judaism? 
• Can the same state successfully be “religious” and “democratic”? 
• What does the ideal “religious state” look and function like? 

Diversity of Opinions:

Jews are often portrayed as vigilantly stubborn in their beliefs.  Take the old joke about the deserted Jew for example: 

          Random Jew is stranded on a deserted island.  He is discovered by sailors who happen upon his island.  They see the typical things (makeshift hut built of sticks, collection of consumed fruits, etc) but are puzzled by the         sight of two different synagogues.  When they ask the Jewish man, he responds simply, “this is the temple I attend, and that is the temple I refuse to step foot in.”

I haven’t found this characterization to be too far from the truth in Israel or in the diaspora.  And there is certainly disagreement about the relationship between the “State of Israel” and personal Jewish belief.  

1st level of dissonance: the “חילונים” (Seculars) and the “דתים” (Religious).  

• If you ask the average person on the street in Tel Aviv (someone who is a “cultural” Jew in the American Jewish terminology) what (s)he thinks about Israel and his/her religion you will likely receive an answer ranging from “an important piece of my religious identity” to “the centerpiece of my Jewishness which has replaced all traditional/ritual Jewish observance.”
• If you ask a the Haredi Jew (someone who is a “black-hatter” in American Jewish terminology or literally translates to “someone who trembles before god”) what (s)he thinks about Israel and his/her religion you will likely receive an answer ranging from “unimportant to my religious identity” to “counterproductive or harmful for true religious belief.”

2nd level of dissonance: the “כיפה סרוגה” (Modern Orthodox) and the “חרידים” (Ultra-orthodox)

• If you ask a Haredi Jew… (see above) 
• If you ask a Modern Orthodox Jews (identified by Israelis as someone who wears a colorful knitted head-covering) what (s)he thinks about Israel and his/her religion you will likely receive an answer ranging from “Israel is important but only in conjunction with traditional Torah study and religious practice” to “Israel is the fundamental component of Judaism today for by living in the ancient holy land we are fulfilling God’s covenant and working to bring about the coming of the messiah!”

Conclusions on question #1:

I am most interested in and impressed by the Bnei Akiva (“Children of Akiva”) movement in Israel which is a large majority of the Modern Orthodox here.  The group’s name is a reference to Rabbi Akiva (50-135CE), one of the founders of Rabbinical Judaism, who is said to have embodied the following qualities: love of God, devotion to the Torah, respect for labor, love of Israel, and his fight for its independence” (Wiki).  Its ideology centers around “”,תורה ועבודה the two pillars of “religious learning” and “work” - in relation to the state of Israel.  The “work” component - originally focused on agricultural labor and physical improvement of the land of Israel – now takes on a more varied meaning as it relates to all that furthers and improves the homeland. 

This “middle road” of sorts in the Jewish tradition manages to dodge BOTH of the generalized insults that the religious and the secular sling at one another respectively. 

• The Secular often decry the Haredim for their lack of loyalty to the state of Israel or their primitive and backward way of life.  They say things like “If you’re going to burn our flag and slur our politicians, why do you bother to live here” or stew over the fact that the ultra-orthodox contribute don’t pay taxes, serve in the Israeli army, or contribute productively to society in their eyes…
• The Religious often disapprove of the Seculars’ disregard for tradition and call them dismissively “Hebrew-speaking Goyim”.  They are offended by the majority of Israel’s citizens who subtly disregard Jewish law or openly reject it as no longer relevant

The success and visibility they have achieved relative to their demographic size in Israeli population is impressive in and of itself.  Many feel compelled to serve the state in the IDF as לוחמים (“warriors”) and then continue in the army and become officers.    They are also extremely active in high-tech, education and academia.  

This population in Israeli society embodies both religious intensity and loyal devotion to the State of Israel.  I connect so strongly to these ideals intellectually or mentally but have fallen short of living them literally.  I hope that in the next couple years I am able to increase my knowledge and understanding both of ritual Judaism and Israel. 

The Inner-Circle

The inner circle captures the similarities between the two objects of a comparison: “Religion” and “State.”  While there are many different potential cases through which to examine the operation/“success” of religious states, (a handful of Christian and Buddhist states and multiple hands full of Muslim states) there is only one Jewish State, Israel, and that is where I will focus my thoughts for now…

Israel was founded as the Jewish State of Israel in 1948.  Is this problematic?  Is Israel a “Jewish” state?  What does that mean?  Can a democracy also have a state religion?  Is that possible?  

The “Religion” Part

People have debated what it means to be a Jewish state since the earliest years of the Zionist project when independent and unaffiliated communities from Central and Eastern Europe purchased land tracts and emigrated to the British Mandate of Palestine in the late 1800s facing persecution in their fatherlands.  Yet answers are still elusive, most likely because there is not one standard Jewish faith.  

American Jews are notorious for attempting to segment their tiny Jewish population into ever smaller groups by donning sub-affiliations within the Jewish religion: “I grew up orthodox and then found my way in the reconstructionist faith…” for example. Whatever happened to those golden days before the destruction of the Great Temple in Jerusalem when Jews were just Jews! 

Beyond this level of Orthodox-Conservative-Reform-Reconstructionist typology, and the differing Orthodox traditions I have spoken about, there are racial and ethnic distinctions.  Goodness, do I laugh whenever I see someone labeling their ethnicity “Jewish” somewhere… What the heck does that mean?  I take a shared taxi and then a bus to and from work each day to find Jews that are Ethiopian, French, Spanish, English, Mexican, Brazilian, Indian :), and all nationalities in between.  These differences are often boiled down to the Ashkenazi (European) and Mizrahi (Middle-Eastern) divide which carries a history of strained relations and misunderstandings.  Everything from the Hebrew in their prayer books to the color of their skin to the kosher laws for Passover differ between the two divergent traditions.  How can these differences be reconciled?  Does making a Jewish state mean having one type of Jew?  One type of ritual practice?

Taking one giant step back at the risk of falling off the ledge entirely, let’s consider for a moment the demographic reality of Israel: only 75.6% of Israel is any kind of Jewish… as Muslims make up 16.9%, Christians 2.0%, Druze 1.7%, and those problematic “others” 3.8% (CIA World Factbook).  YIKES.  As we say here in Israel, “?מה לעשות”  (“What to do?”) 

The “State” Part

Wow.  When the question of democracy comes up in relation to Israel you can bet that people are going to get pretty heated, pretty quickly.  People who can’t define democracy in a classroom are ready to jump in to “defend” or “attack” the notion of an Israeli Democracy!  

The central feature of democracy is representation and participation of the entire populous in the political decision making of the government or the state.  Where the majority opinion goes but the rights of all citizens are protected.  

There is also an element of freedom in a democracy.  The organization Freedom House ranks countries of the world “Free,” “Partly Free,” or “Not Free.”  This rating is bast on the robustness of political rights and civil liberties that citizens and theoretically non-citizens as well experience within a state.  Milton Freedman writes about “the Freedom to Choice” and how that is what defines successful democracy and optimal society.  How then does this work in a religious state?

Ideal Mix

There is no simple solution or prescription because it is very difficult for a religious state to be a free and democratic one. 

Judaism with all its diversity of opinion is arguably one of the most difficult.  Its not like Israel was declared a Conservative Jewish state with large minorities of orthodox and reform Jews living within (similar to the many Muslim states) which would have its own challenges.  Rather each person defines their own religious belief and observance in relatively different ways.  Judaism is a religion that commends religious questioning and debate.  One of the foundational Jewish texts which (to my limited knowledge) functions as a practical rulebook for traditional observance is not a manuscript of an authoritarian, but rather a transcript of the debates between the most important rabbis of the days.  When you use the Talmud to look up a religious question or subject, you do not find one single answer but rather are taught to carefully dissect the differing opinions in an attempt to discover your own truth.  As my witty/scholarly step dad always says when I ask a Jewish question… “Sam, it’s between you and your god!”  The name Israel, after all, can be translated to mean “he who struggles with God”, a fitting name for a state with such a diverse and rich Jewish/non-Jewish cultural tapestry. 

The Law of Return, originally instituted in 1950, is one important feature of Israel’s Jewish and democratic state.  Israel was founded not as a community of believers but as a homeland for the Jewish people.  This law which entitles any person who is a Jew, child of a Jew, or grandchild of a Jew and his/her spouse immediate citizenship in the state of Israel (as of a 1970 amendment).  Hotly contested internationally, considering that no similar law exists allowing for immediate immigration of Palestinian refugees, I will argue the merits of this law and its fundamental importance in the operation of Israel.   First, it is important to clarify that this is not the only way to gain Israeli citizenship and therefore is at worst simply a form of “positive discrimination” (discrimination by benefiting one group, as opposed to punishing the other).  This law is by no means unique as more than 25 countries around the world have similar procedures for the immediate settlement/citizenship of a particular ethnic or religious minority. There is continued importance of a mechanism to protect the Jewish people.  Historical memory is rather short and subjective, but here is a nice summary of all the major genocides that the world, after saying a defiant and definitive “never again” in 1945, has watched unfold: http://www.spiegel.de/international/0,1518,338612,00.html.  Anti-Semitism has always existed and continues to exist.  While it is intellectual faux-pas these days to make such a claim I am unfazed.  We as Jews have been acquitted of the charges of blood-sucking and horn-wearing but many other racist and ethnic claims remain.  Holocaust-denial and genocidal threats are ever-present most especially in the Arab World.  I believe that Jews world-wide are so lucky to have a champion of human rights like the USA which has proved far and away to be a safe homeland to an incredibly diverse group of people.  Jews growing up in America today do not suffer and are no longer persecuted or bullied.  It is however most important to have a Jewish homeland, a final check against the continued existence of Anti-Semitic belief and action.       

Instead of enforcing one exclusive Jewish ritual existence the State of Israel must grant its citizens religious freedom by allowing them to practice Judaism or any other religion how they desire.  Sounds simple, proves difficult.  I do however believe that this means you must institutionalize some Jewish practice.  Unfortunately orthodox Jews, mostly Haredim, in Israel and abroad today are feared and impugned by much of the Jewish world let alone those outside the community.  They are an important part of the religious tapestry in Israel and accommodations must be made to address their religious comfort as well.  Healthy compromises today: (1) Bus schedules which stop on shabbat and (2) Only kosher food served in the army.  To me, secular Jews and non-Jews do not lose anything by these institutional choices.  While the largely visible buses stop on Shabbat, taxis and sherutim (shared-taxis) both run on Shabbat – many along the same bus routes that operate 6 days a week; similarly, by serving kosher food in the army (and paying for it) I don’t feel any non-religious Jew or non-Jew would feel uncomfortable.  *Although maybe do not wish to contribute tax money to purchasing more expensive kosher food in the army… I don’t know. 

Marriage in Israel is problematic.  One of the major concessions to the religious Jewish groups in the founding of the state, Ben Gurion handed over control of marriage to the Rabbinate.  As a result anyone who is not by halacha (law) Jewish, meaning Jewish mother, cannot be married in the state of Israel.  Since there are no civil marriages in Israel, only religious (Jewish) ones, many who have trouble often get married legally outside the country (often in Cyprus) and then return where they are received by Israel as “married” but not as Jewish…  There are many difficulties here.  It is also problematic for Israel to simply issue civil unions or civil marriages because in essence it would be supporting inter-marriage.  Israel must guarantee the rights of its people like any democracy; however as a Jewish state too, Israel is more than just a secular democracy.  Israel has a responsibility Jews within and without the state to protect Jewish unity and identity for generations to come.  It is disheartening today however to hear the hardships of couples who have grown up as Jews in Israel since birth and yet cannot get married because the mother of the groom, an oleh hadash (new immigrant) from Russia, cannot prove her Jewishness…  I think the solution is defining a shared conversion process that can be owned by a majority of Jews in the state of Israel.  Forcing people to undertake an arduous orthodox conversion and way of life simply to be married in the state seems imperfect.  Not exactly sure what the solution is here. 

Thanks for listening to my musings feel free to comment or respond to me, publicly or privately. 

Hope everyone is still doing well and enjoying the heart of the summer!

What a shabbat afternoon.  Two weekends ago I had a birthright reunion ON A BOAT.  5 of the 8 soldiers from the trip and I got together for a little fun on the water.  The father of one of the girls, Hila, is a major sailing enthusiast and took us out for a couple hours.  The only downside: half of us getting sea sick and the insane amount of jellyfish that speckled the deep blue water.  So relaxing.  Beer and salty snacks completed the outing which will go down as one of the best “good life” experiences of my time here.    

Back story: One night my second week of being in Israel I wondered in Hummus Ashkara, a small food joint close to my apartment.  I sat outside at a long picnic-style table next two a man and woman furiously debating some new piece of Israeli legislation in english.  I did not have the courage to butt in.  However, after I placed my order in strained/broken hebrew the man leaned over shook my hand and introduced himself as Sidney Shapiro.  Over the course of dinner I got to know Sidney pretty well.  Originally from Canada, Sidney was very eager to share his immigration stories and explain a little bit about his life in Israel.  I took down his number as we were leaving and stayed with his family on Moshav Mevo Modi’im the following weekend.  

The weekend: Definitely glad that I decided to spend a weekend out of the secular buzzing atmosphere of Tel Aviv.  My first and really only spiritual experience so far, the weekend opened my eyes to another of the many styles of Jewish life that exists in Israel. Thomas Friedman in his book From Beirut to Jerusalem says:  

“Israel is probably the most confusing place to ‘find yourself’ as a Jew.  It is the place to lose yourself as a Jew, because if you don’t know who you are before you arrive, you can get totally lost in the maze of options that present themselves as soon as you plant your feet on the land. (285)” 

This was the “modern orthodox” blend of Judaism if I had to put a label on it.  The moshav was a very interesting community to me.  Small little houses packed densely around a central grassy area with a playground, temple, and ceremonial eating room.  The collective feel of the place was overwhelming.  I arrived in the mid-afternoon on Friday, so I had only a little time to grill and relax before the shabbat was upon us.  I had told myself before that “when in Moshav Modi’im…” I was going to do as my hosts did.  

Shabbat was such a relaxing experience.  Each meal consisted of a ton of small salads (everything from pickles, to harif, to pastas, and cheeses) then lots of bread and some soup.  I met a number of couples with kids on the moshav, many of whom were only 5 or 6 years older than me…  Learned a lot about possible army options from Sidney and spoke with him a lot about the work that he does working in the Prime Minister’s office.  Practiced some hebrew and did some davening (first since arriving in Israel).  Got to play with Sidney and Shira’s cute little baby girl, Vanilla for a bunch of the day.  There was a beautiful Havdalah service with multiple guitars done outside in the common area with over 20 families participating (again COMMUNITY).  When I turned on my phone on the bus ride home, I found two worried voice mails on my machine wondering why I hadn’t been picking up my phone.  Needless to say, shabbat observance is more an exception to the rule than the rule in the Israeli/Tel Aviv circles I’ve been travelling.    

Some serious pre-shabbat grilling (Israeli-style)!

Moshav Mevo Modiim’s beautiful sanctuary