Blogging the Torah — Shabbat Zachor: Remembering, Zippori and Beyond

by Gail F. Nalven

I marvel at the resilience of the Jewish people. Their best characteristic is their desire to remember. No other people has such an obsession with memory.  — Elie Wiesel

Elie Wiesel was right.  We Jews are big on remembering.

We remember those who have come before us at their yarzeits, and with the breaking of a glass under the chuppah.  We remember our redemption from Pharaoh’s hands each year at our seders.  We remember the military victory of the Maccabees every Hanukah. And we remember the murder of 6 million each year on Yom HaShoah and utter the words “Never forget,” as if we need an extra reminder to remember.

This Shabbat is the Shabbat of memory: Shabbat Zachor, which always falls on the Shabbat before Purim.  Just before we celebrate one of our most joyous holidays, we remember the evil.  The Torah tells us, in our special maftir section from the end of Chapter 25 in Deuteronomy, “You shall blot out the memory of Amalek from under heaven. Lo tishcach: Don’t forget.”  Essentially we are told to remember to forget Amalek, and his descendants, who are thought to include Haman, whose name we blot out with boos during the reading of Megillat Esther.

Remember to forget?  If we forget entirely, we will not remember.  If we remember entirely, can we go about our lives?

Memory is a funny thing.  When I was younger, and I would complain about something, my Aunt Minnie used to say that there was my version, the other person’s version (the other person was usually my mother,) and somewhere in the middle was the truth.  There is personal memory and collective memory and it can be somewhat disarming when we hear a story that is so far from the story that we have always learned.

This idea was never as evident as during our day in Zippori with the Leadership Institute, a group 40 Jewish educators from the NY area who have been traveling thoroughout Israel and discussing change.  Zippori is about halfway between Haifa and Tiberias in northern Israel. There we met Amin Muhammad Ali who told us the story of his childhood in the town he calls Saffuriyya.  He now lives in Nazareth “temporarily” as he says, but keeps the memory alive of the night of July 16, 1948, when, as he says, the Zionists forced his family and his neighbors from their homes and their land. Amin told us this story, with great drama and emotion, through an interpreter, in a Arab cemetery in Zippori.  I suspect that he remembers this story quite a lot. I suspect that he has made a life of remembering.  He told us his tale of war and relocation.  He told us his history.  He told us that he wants to “come back to Saffuriyya and live with the Jews who live here now…We are waiting for peace, real peace.”  He sees no differences between the Arab and the Jew but has a problem with the Zionists.  (Shlomit, an Israeli educator who was part of our guide team, explained that by Zionist he means “everyone who came to Zippori after 1948.” So that would essentially mean all of the Israelis.  Was she correct?)  I was waiting to hear why Amin wanted to meet in this cemetery.  Was there a massacre? A desecration? No, not that we heard.  Clearly, this was a place where the impact of his memory could be felt most strongly.
We then heard an entirely different narrative.  This was our story.  We visited the ruins that have been uncovered in Zippori.  The ruins where Yehudah HaNasi, the redactor of the Mishnah, lived and worked.  We sat in the remains of the synagogue where he prayed and we remembered the beginnings of the Talmud.  We saw the amazing mosaics and imagined his life and the society there. Why did Yehudah HaNasi go to Zippori? The Talmud answers that question (Ketubot 103b): “Rabbi Yehudah HaNasi was in Bet She’arim, but when he became ill, they brought him to Zippori, for it is high and has good air.”  That it does. So this place has become part of our collective memory, our history as Jews.

And after being steeped in Jewish memory, memory that goes back almost 2,000 years, we were brought to the present.  We visited the home of our leader, Roberta Bell-Kligler, the Head of the Department for Jewish Peoplehood at the Shdemot Center for Community Leadership at Oranim College.  The previous day, Roberta and her colleagues had organized a ground-breaking conference bringing Israeli educators and American educators together.  Roberta and her family lived on Moshav Zippori, a collective founded by 200 holocaust survivors in 1950. She explained that she moved to Israel years ago with a group of friends from Berkeley. In her lovely home, a stone’s throw away from the digs we had just visited, we were shown pottery handles, stones, and ancient money that she had found nearby.  We heard of the children that she and her husband raised there. We also heard the view of Israelis who live their lives in the modern Zippori.  This is their home. The Zippori where they live, and work, and created families, and created new memories.

As with most stories, the story of Zippori is complicated.  And it is filled with many sides of remembering, all of which we should not forget.  Albert Einstein said: “Memory is deceptive because it is colored by today’s events.”  That certainly is true in Zippori.  Today’s events and yesterday’s events.  And as my Aunt Minnie might have said, somewhere in the middle of all of these stories lies the truth.

For more information, check out these links:
Article on Amin Muhammad Ali: http://electronicintifada.net/content/israel-begins-sell-refugees-land/8394

Zippori National Park: http://www.parks.org.il/BuildaGate5/general2/data_card.php?Cat=~25~~685252593

Oranim College: http://friends.oranim.ac.il/node/86

The reflecting continues....

Twelve days, 39 educators and 575 miles later, I am still unpacking and reflecting upon my time in Israel as a Fellow in the Leadership Institute. We learned, studied, pushed the boundaries and one another’s comfort zones. We brought tough, difficult and sometimes painful dialogue to the table. We laughed until we cried, and at times, only cried.

We visited schools and participated in an international conference with Israeli teachers. We met a man named Amin who shared his family’s story of losing his home in 1949 and his dreams of one day seeing his grandchildren play on that land. We spoke with Jews who were trying to build community in a land where they felt they had no community. We met with innovators and leaders in grassroots movements from inspiring at-risk youth to emboldening a liberal, pluralistic voice in an increasingly conservative, intolerant atmosphere. We walked in the footsteps of the Talmud and watched the newest in modern performance art and audience participation. We celebrated Shabbat with progressive Jews who are pioneers in Israel by taking their inspiration for practice from Jews in the United States. We forged the beginnings of relationships for our schools and classrooms that are built on ancient connections in a modern context. We met people who are as concerned as we are about our future; and together we embraced a challenge to find a new language in which to converse about what lies ahead. In the words of Amin, we are “one land, many peoples.”

For me, being in Israel is at once complex and a home-coming. I am overwhelmed by emotions and questions. I feel a part of the very land, something I don’t feel in New York. I have traveled all over the world, photographing and working; I feel different in Israel, and the complexities and emotions are not numbed, but heightened with each visit.

Our physical journey began in the desert and we traveled north to the bustling metropolis of Tel Aviv, then north to the Galil and south again to end in Jerusalem. Every day was a coalescence of the historical and the modern, our collective memories and the individual experience. And every day I was forced to face the troubling questions and conflicting emotions. Visiting a public school in Haifa and seeing all the wonderful accomplishments this community has made in the face of adversity filled me with pride; and yet, the school remains segregated and Arab children attend a different school. Local leaders in Yerucham have seen real success in turning inward for strength, notable in the number of young adults who have now returned as teachers to a place they once ran from in droves; and yet, those on the outside still scornfully refer to this isolated place in the desert as a “settlement town,” even after 60 years.

And then there is Jerusalem. So much complexity wrapped up in the framework of religion, identity, history, past and present. Avraham Infeld, a leader and trailblazer in Jewish education tells us that “…Jews do not have history; Jews have memory.” In Jerusalem, this electrifies the air.

Our story is tied to every story in Israel, whether it is thousands of years old or unfolding today in front of us. Our story is connected to every story of every Jew around the world, whether it is thousands of years old or unfolding in front of us. This pulls me in and reminds me of why I am a Jewish educator. This is more than an idea and tugs at my heart; it reminds me of why I am an artist. My story is part of this incredible tapestry. My children and my students are a continuation of the threads.

I am still here and as confused as ever

Our Israel Seminar highlighted the complexities of the life here in Israel. Visiting my friends who have made aliyah has emphasized the challenges our people face here.  All my friends’ political views span the entire spectrum from right to left.  Last night one friend told me she won't ride the new light railroad train because it passes through Arab villages and their is no security on board.  She took me and showed me a new Jewish neighborhood built in the middle of Arab villages.  Because of the way I framed a question, she finally said that the Jews did encroach upon Arab land but saw nothing wrong with that. 

Afterwards I joined another group of friends who are left wingers.  We talked about the Jewish settlers disregard for Arab Lands.  How there really is a land grab and the government either can't or won't stop them.  In yesterday's Ha'aretz Newspaper, an article reported that the legislature is allowing settlers to build unpaved roads around their settlements on Arab Lands.  Another article talks about settlers violating the Oslo accords by incorporating Arab lands from territory that is under PA control and Israel security.  I highly recommend following Allen Katzoff's blog "Seven Months in Tel Aviv" for me hard hitting investigative fact filled blogging.

Today I attended my first commanders' ceremony.  Still another family's son graduated as a sargent in the Tank Corp.  They invited me to attend.  How could I refuse?  There were 140 young standing tall, proud, and enthusiastic getting their stripes.  Before the ceremonies, the families gather around picnic baskets for a festive meal.  We watched them march in and fall in formation.  With the razzle dazzle of presenting arms, standing at attention, and at ease, these young men wowed their families.

At the end of the ceremonies after they received their promotion and threw their berets in the air, the official part of the ceremonies were over.  My friend's son unit danced and sang arm in arm.  The sheer happiness on their faces was infectious.  Their whole future lay in front of them.  Along with the mazal tovs, I also thought to myself these young men will have to deal with all of Israel's complexities and challenges of settler vs those who want a 2 state solution, of the ultra-orthodox vs those who want no religious coercion, of Jews vs Palestinians, and of Jews vs Arabs.  What a heavy and hard burden for these 19-20 years old.

Yerucham -- Digging Deeper

 By Gail F. Nalven

Yeruham (Hebrew: יְרוּחָם‎‎, יְרוֹחַם, Yeroham) is a town (local council) in the Southern District of Israel, in the Negev desert. It covers 38,584 dunams (~38.6 km²) and had a population of 9,400 in 2006. It is named after the Biblical Jeroham. Modern Yeruham was founded on January 9, 1951 as Kfar Yeruham (Hebrew: כְּפַר יְרֻחָם‎‎). It was one of Israel's first development towns, created to settle frontier areas in the early days of the state. It was located near the Large Makhtesh, an area thought at the time to be rich with natural resources.

For many years, Yeruham was economically depressed and suffered from image problems, but major efforts to improve the quality of life are under way.

--- Wikipedia

Yerucham is a story that goes much deeper than its Wikipedia description.
It was our second day in Israel with the Leadership Institute.  We arrived after sundown and spent the first night at Kibbutz Mashabei Sadeh. http://www.m-sadeh.org.il/ewelcome.htm  under and almost full moon.

Reuven Sthal

Still tired from our journey, we entered Yerucham, a town deep in the Negev.  There we met Debbie Goldman HaGolan who introduced us to this growing town and  Atid Bamidbar -- the Future is the Desert, an organization that organizes Jewish study programs and community projects.  Yerucham is a town where religious and non-religious live and they all come to the Youth Center where we met Reuven Sthal.  Reuven is helping to expose kids to math, engineering, and science through robotics.  This is about "giving kids a way to dream, widen their horizons...the sky's the limit."   There are robotics teams for all ages and one team is currently involved in a national

Debbie HaGolan

The Robot

competition. frc3211.com

We then met Rachel, from a religious school for girls.  This school is providing high level education for 130 students from different communities.  The curriculum includes religious studies and modern studies.  Students go from Talmud to the sciences, physics, and biology.  They use the shared laboratories for the high schools in town and engage in art, drama and the study of Israel.  There is even family

Rachel at school, with her daught

education in this school.  Funded by the Ministry of Education, almost all of the students pass the Bagrut, the standardized test for all students in Israel.

What we didn't know was that the highlight of our day was still to come.  We were invited into homes in the community for lunch. Atid Bamidbar established this program as a way for these women to earn some extra cash and to share their stories.  One group went to the home of Mazel and Jojo. http://leadershipinstitutetheblog.blogspot.com/2012/02/culinary-queens-of-yerucham-put-sallah.html.  My group went to the home of Leah who insisted that we eat before we talk.  After a wonderful meal of many courses, she told us of herTunisian father and her Libyan mother.  They met in a camp for new olim -- immigrants to Israel and helped to establish a moshav and lived on Kibbutz Tirat Ziv, a religiously kibbutz. Leah spoke lovingly of her parents who were nurturing and encouraged her and her siblings to grow. She was one of a family of 9 sisters and 4 brothers, all of whom became "academics." Leah said that she was a teacher.

She told us of her husband was mental illness.  And knowing that she had to leave the marriage, she called her husband's brother, a doctor in America.  Afterwards, we discussed how we were all speculating on what she would ask for. I thought she would asked her brother-in-law to take him to America.  Others thought she would ask for money for a divorce. What Leah did ask for was money to go to therapy, because she knew that with therapy, she could gain the strength to leave her husband and move on with her life.  Her son and then daughter were there to hear the story and even a grandchild appeared. She has 4 children.

At the conclusion, Leah asked for questions.  I asked for recipes.  And she was thrilled to share.



Red Cabbage Salad
Sauce   
Balsamic Vinegar, Soy Sauce, Olive Oil, Sugar  
Make the sauce two days in advance
Cut cabbage and cover with sugar in fridge for two hours.
Rinse off the sugar, and mix with the sauce.  Add sesame seeds and nuts.
"Whatever you have in the house."

Tirsme  (I think this is what it was called.)                                                                                    
This was a tasty orange dip.
Cook and mash (I think you could process)
1 pumpkin -- I think she meant butternut squash                                                                    
white potatoes, 1 kilo
Mix with 2 sweet peppers (red, orange, yellow), a little hot pepper, kimmel, garlic, and oil.
Add lemon to taste

Orange Peel
Rachel added the most wonderful orange peel to her cookies.  She put the orange peel in the over to dry.  When it was completely dry, she ground it into a powder.  She sent me off with a wonderful sample of the powder.

Mifgash Means Encounter, Part 1

By Ira Wise

Six months ago, some of us thought holding a day long conference with the Fellows and Mentors of the Leadership Institute and a group of Israel public school principals was not a good idea. We are bringing people thousands of miles for a mere 9 days of traveling and learning in the land. How could we devote more than 10% of that time in classrooms? We were certain there would be a revolt.

Still, the plans progressed. Evie Rotstein - our fearless leader - along with Roberta Bell-Kligler and David Mittelberg and the rest of their staff at Oranim framed the conference around the idea of Jewish Peoplehood.  Mittelberg described the idea of Jewish Peoplehood as emerging from a dialogic discourse. It describes both process and content. He invited the combined American/Israeli group of educators to explore and model what Jewish People can emerge to be. 

Doctor David Mittelberg

He cited two studies (NJPS 2000 and Avi Chai/Guttman 2012) that indicate that both American and Israeli Jews have between an 80 - 93% sense of connection to the Jewish people. So what is the problem with that? Why a conference and a whole department of Jewish Peoplehood at Oranim? Mittelberg says that both Israeli and Diaspora Jewries are partial and incomplete. Neither can do it on their own. Both communities see imparting a sense of connectedness to our children as real challenge.

In Israel, he said, being Jewish is a matter of fact. In the United States, it is a matter of choice. The problem is both in variety of degree and in type. In Israel being Jewish is taken for granted. In the U.S. being Jewish cannot be taken for granted. And being born Jewish in either place is no guarantee anymore that you will stay Jewish. He suggested that only in our mifgash (encounter) with each other can we make up for each of our deficiencies.

He said quite a bit more, and I refer you to the resources at the bottom of this posting for more detail. It was an amazing mifgash. So much so that this is coming in three posts, as I sit at Ben Gurion waiting to go home a week later. I was skeptical about having this conference. It was the highlight of an amazing trip with a wonderful group of educators. Evie, I was wrong. You, Roberta and David were right. Now we need to have more of these mifgashim between American and Israeli educators or it will just have been a great day. It needs to be the beginning of a long and truly essential conversation.


Resources on Peoplehood:
Convergent and Divergent Dimensions of Jewish Peoplehood - David Mittelberg (pdf)
Jewish Peoplehood Education: Framing the Field - Shlomi Ravid & Varda Rafaeli
Towards Jewish Peoplehood - David Mittelberg (pdf)
Jewish Educational Leadership - A Guide to Jewish Peoplehood

Crossposted to Welcome to the Next Level

My Dvar Torah for Shabbat Shekalim our last Shabbat together

By Rabbi Gary Greene

I have to admit that I am a bit nervous speaking to you. You are my friends who have high expectations from me and I’ve seen what wonderful educators you are.  I don’t want to let you down.  The committee didn’t give me any instructions about the length of this D'var Torah. I don’t know how long or short it should be. When I am nervous, I tend to ramble.  I remember when I was a “green” rabbi interviewing for my first pulpit, I was nervous and spoke a little too long.  In the receiving line, I began to apologize for speaking too long.  One woman tried to make me feel better by saying: “Oh Rabbi, you didn’t speak too long. It only felt long.”  I figure it would be good to do both again today.

As you well know there are 4 special Shabbatot surrounding Purim and Passover to help us prepare physically and spiritually for those holidays.  This Shabbat marks the first special Shabbat, Shabbat Shekalim.  In the second Torah portion, the Torah imposes a flat tax of a half Shekel upon Israel.  “This is what everyone who is entered in the records shall pay; a half-shekel and from the age of 20 years up, shall give the Lord’s offering: the rich shall not pay more and the poor shall not pay less than a half a shekel.”  (Exodus 30:13-15)  Everybody had an equal share in maintaining the Holy Temple, the Bet HaMikdosh. 

This tax was due by the 1st of Nisan.  The rabbis ordained that this parasha reminder should be read the Shabbat before Rosh Hodash Adar as to give the Jewish people time to save their prutot in order to pay their tax bill. 

Ever since we landed in Israel, we‘ve been spending shekalim instead of dollars.  What a way to make the Torah reading more tangible!  Since shekalim look and spend more like monopoly money I’ve been thinking a lot about money.

I’ve learned more Torah from Mary Douglas, a British Catholic anthropologist, than almost all my JTS professors. She wrote in her book The World of Good that our money has no intrinsic value.  Unlike the silver dollars of old, our paper bills are literally worth only the value of the raw materials plus the manufacturing costs.  We assign value to the bills and make them one dollar, five dollar, ten dollar, 50 dollar, and 100 dollar bills.

Looking at money that way, we can understand money as value markers.  Where we spend our money shows us where our true values lie.  One person will value a car more than another and is willing to spend top dollar for the newest car with all the bells and whistles while another is just as happy with an old jalopy to get him back and forth from work.  Both cars do the same thing, travel from point a to point b, but one person values a car more than the other.  When I was a rabbinical school student and needed to buy a set of Talmud, off course I had to purchase the top of the line and not a cheap off-set copy.  They both contain the same words, but I valued the Talmud and my money flowed to the most expensive set as an expression of my values.

My father z”l taught me that if you really want to learn about a person’s deepest held values, don’t read his autobiography.  You’ll just get his politically correct spin. Which book do you have to read? Read his check book! Our ancestors valued the Temple and its central role in the life of the people and demonstrated it by donating a half shekel to the Bet HaMikdosh. 

Although I haven’t seen any the check books of the following people I know where their values lie.  I want to appreciate and thank all the people who truly value  the Leadership Institute.  First I appreciate and acknowledge the contribution of the Federation who by their grant makes this whole institute possible along with this trip.  I’ve already learned so much.  It has changed my life.  I know all of you share my sentiment that this institute and this trip to Israel is a real gift.

I want to appreciate thank all the mentors, those here and those who could not come.  Although they are actually working hard while we are enjoying the fruits of their labor here, they had to contribute out of their own pocket towards their trip like all of us did.  They have truly put their money where there mouths are.

Of course, I want to thank Roberta and Ronit on this side of the pond and Evie and Beth on our side of the pond for all they have done for us.  Words are inadequate to describe their contribution to our success as educators.

I know that I speak on behalf of all of us as I conclude “Todah Rabah min halev!”

Shabbat Shalom!

Once Again, A Moment in Time

 by Gail F. Nalven

Pre-Shabbat and the shuk, Jerusalem’s Machane Yehudah marketplace is bustling with shoppers.  All are walking fast through the rows and rows of luscious fruits and vegetables.  The colors are amazing.  The smells of the home baked challah and cakes are in the air.  I quickly bypass the meat and fish stalls which are not so appetizing.  I notice that there are new stores, “real” stores, and not just open stalls.  There are now sit down restaurants and not just quick falafel stands.

Rehov Sukkat Shalom, just outside the shuk

I find myself standing in almost the exact spot I stood on Yom HaZikaron, 1997 when the 10am siren blew.  Yom HaZikaron is Israel’s memorial day.  A day to remember those who died on the battlefield, and in terrorist attacks.  It is not marked with sales and bar-b-ques as in the US.  It is a solemn day.  When the sirens blast, everyone stops in their tracks.  People get out of cars, off buses.  And they remember. For just a moment. For everyone knows at least one person who has died, before their time.


As I stood in that same spot before this Shabbat, I remembered the woman who had stood in front of me 14 years before, holding her packages and weeping.  I remembered the newly painted stalls that terrorists had blown up just a short time before, killing innocent shopkeepers.  I remembered people stopping to mourn. There was a silence not often heard in the marketplace. And then the siren stopped.  Everyone picked up their bags. Everyone move on, getting on with their lives and the business of keeping Israel going, keeping Israel alive.

Mourning is not a business here.  It is not a full time occupation that makes Israeli’s building monuments taller and taller into the sky.  It is appropriate and life goes on.  And Israel continues to stand.

Note:  This post is also published @tefillah.wordpress.com.

Israeli vs Jewish Identity

All through our Israel seminar, we've been discussing the difference between an Israeli identity and a Jewish identity. Speaking to high school seniors from the Carmel High School near Haifa, we learned that they feel Israeli but not Jewish.

The opposite happened to me. Thursday night we went to the Zappa Bar to hear Tzvika Pik perform.  He was a popular rock star in the 70's and 80's.  To tell you the truth I was never a fan of his and he did not endear himself to me by arriving on the stage 1 hour and 15 minutes late.  Instead of starting a 9:00 pm he began at 10:15 pm. On top of every thing the song that announced him was Ave Maria which had nothing to do with anything with his concert.  He only sang the songs he wrote.

The Israelis there really got into his music.  They swayed with their hands over their heads singing along with him the songs of their youth.  The music didn't touch me in any way (I admit that I was tired and cranky).  This was the first time on the trip I felt a gap between me and the Israelis.  I have a very strong Jewish identity that couldn't relate to their Israeli identity.

So today I bought some Israeli music, the biluyim and Kobi Oz, to bridge that gap.

Hashkedidei Porachat: Almond Tree Blooming

By Robin Kahn
Tuesday, February 14, 2012

Shalom L'Kulam!

Greetings from Haifa, Israel.

After dancing at a friend's wedding in New York, I boarded the plane for Tel Aviv, and made my way to Haifa where I was warmly welcomed by my group.

Ofek Meir, principle of the
Leo Baeck Junior High School

Today, Tuesday, I took an early morning walk on the promenade to the Baha'i Gardens, and had a full Israeli breakfast (vegetables, fruit, fish, eggs, pastries and more). My morning was spent at the Leo Baeck School, a K-12 progressive, partially public and partially private Israeli School with a connection with the Reform movement.

The school's mission is Torah, avodah(work) and gemilut hasadim - very similar to our schools's guiding principal.

In our conversations with 8th graders we listened to their reflections on the questions, "Why is it important for Israelis to engage in Jewish studies?" and "Why is it a waste of time for Israelis to engage in Judaic studies?" I learned that while the American Jewish community is grappling with Israel education, educators in Israeli schools are grappling with how to teach Jewish studies in a secular environment.

We spent the afternoon focused on "bringing religious community and change to the Galilee." In the Galilee we met with Marc, Nir, Gallit, and Tova, 4 inspiring leaders from various yishuvot (roughly translated as a closed community, think something like a condo association) who shared with us the reasons their families have chosen to live in the yishuvot in the Galilee. Much of our dialogue focused on the relationship between the Jewish and Arab communities in Northern Israel and longstanding partnerships.

Meir Shalev and Yossi Abulafia

This evening Meir Shalev and Yossi Abulafia, an Israeli novelist/children's book author and cartoonist/illustrator shared their work with us. Their presentation was light, fun and a real treat. Many of their books have been translated to English and I look forward to sharing some of the stories with our community.

Tomorrow we're heading to Jerusalem!

L'Shalom,

Robin

Music Speaks Louder than Words: Connecting Personally with Davening

By Susan Cosden


Throughout our trip in Israel we have had opportunities to pray together as a community, to experience how some of our fellows teach prayer to their students/congregants, and to attend services at synagogues in Tel Aviv and Jerusalem. Each prayer opportunity has come down to: How do we connect to pray individually and help each individual we teach connect with prayer, connect with the Jewish people through prayer and connect to God?

Our first service together was spent at the Leonardo Basel Hotel in Tel Aviv. That evening a group of fellows and mentors led a very moving Kabbalat Shabbat and Minchah service for us. At this service they decided to use instruments for Kabbalat Shabbat but not for minchah. The service was full of joyous singing as it was our first Shabbat together and our first Shabbat together in Israel. For me personally, all the emotions I have felt building up to this trip and since we arrived came flooding out during this service and I am grateful for my colleagues who created the kavannah - the intention, mood and focus.

Once again music was a key component this erev Shabbat when several of us had the opportunity to pray at Kol HaNeshamah for Kabbalat Shabbat and Minchah. This seems appropriate as the translation of this congregation's name is Voice of the Soul. On one level this service allowed me to connect with memories as this was the congregation I belonged to when I was a first year student at Hebrew Union College.

On a second level this service allowed me to connect with other Jews as I was greeted by Israeli friends I hadn't seen in a long time, including a classmate from my time at Hebrew Union College who lives in Jerusalem.

 On a third level this service allowed me to connect with Jews around the world as each Shabbat there are guests from around the world and this Shabbat was no exception.

Rabbi Levi Weiman-Kelman

On a fourth level this service allowed me to connect with the prayers themselves as Rabbi Levi Weiman-Kelman led us in deep breathing before some of the prayers, led us in guided meditation reflecting on the past week before other prayers, and led the congregation in different paces of singing the prayers to add to the kavannah.

On a fifth level this service allowed me to connect with God as the beautiful singing of the congregation, especially when in harmony or in rounds, was able to carry all of our prayers Higher.

The service that moved me the most and got me to think about applying techniques to my school's prayer experiences was the study session and then havdallah with Bet T'fillah Israeli led by Esteban Gottfried and Company. During our study session and havdallah we were introduced to their siddur, whose design in some ways reminded me of Mishkan Tefillah, the Reform Movement's new siddur. Their siddur is designed with the right hand page being the traditional prayers and the left hand page being a collection of songs and poems whose themes match the traditional prayers yet are part of the popular culture or cultural history of Israel, e.g. Arik Einstein's Ani V'atah for Aleinu. Through our experience with them it was clear to me how they were able to attract hundreds of Israelis to the pier in Tel Aviv during the summer to welcome Shabbat. The experience was so powerful that many of us felt moved to share through song our gratitudes that Shabbat and our hopes for the upcoming week.

Afterwards, a few of us were discussing how could we create a service like this for our teens and how would we know which songs would connect them with this same deep meaning. I shared with my colleagues how twice this year with our seventh graders at Temple Beth El of Northern Westchester, thanks to our wonderful seventh grade coordinator, we gave our students a rubric of the service with an explanation of each prayer and asked them to find songs on their MP3 players that had the same themes. Then we had a service of playing these songs. The experience must have connected with our students because several parents shared with me how their teen came home and shared this with them and some even shared it with extended family.

My thought of how to take it to the next level is to do this a few more times to gather more ideas and create a siddur for our teen tefillah experiences each week at religious school. Even better would be for several of us to do this activity with our teens and create a siddur we all can use. What a great way to allow prosumer learning.

This trip has given us many wonderful gifts. In the case of prayer, this trip has given me many more tools in my tool box to bring our students closer to prayer, each other, Jews around the world, and God. What an awe-inspiring gift this is.

Bookends

By Lisa Friedman

To post at the beginning and the end of an experience like we've had is quite special. I am always mindful of the opportunity to see if I have done what I had set out to do. Ten days ago I stood under the full moon near the desert, and we shared an opening ceremony through all of our senses. I stated then that it would be my goal to experience all of Israel through every sense. This is not hard to do!

What did I see? People, schools, stunning architecture, gorgeous wild flowers, the interplay of old & new....

What did I taste? Falafel, cheese, olives, feta, pita, hummus, rugelach....

What did I hear? Hebrew, children laughing, friends greeting, praying, music, rain, hail...

What did I smell? Flowers, grilled meats, frying oil, spices, candles burning...

What did I feel? Hugs, tears, good belly laughs, a silk tallit, warmth, cold....

All this and so much more. And I am grateful. Grateful for the experience and grateful for the ability to use all my senses. Thank you, Israel.

A Chance Encounter and a New Lens

By Alix Brown
Thursday, February 16, 2012

It is hard to be in Jerusalem and not go to the Kotel. When the prospect arose that our group would have some time to ourselves, I knew my path would be directly to the Old City. Meandering through the market, listening to the myriad of voices and languages, taking in the smells of spices, responding to the beckoning calls to enter a stall of goods...all of this pushes me through the people towards the Kotel. The rain begins to come down and the narrow, ancient streets become a river of water that everyone tries to dodge.

After passing through the usual security point, we entered the plaza from above. The rain forced many to take temporary shelter beneath the arches and tunnels; the plaza itself was not the bustling place that I had visited before: it was quiet and the sky was dreary with clouds. All the chatter was about snow that might be coming for Shabbat. Carefully descending the wet and slippery steps we made our way to separate sides. Having been in this place before, I wondered what I would feel: awe, God, belonging, boredom? It's different every time and I thought complacency would take over, but this didn't bother me so much. After all, I think I was looking only for quiet and a moment to just "be." This day was a week into our time together; learning, studying, pushing the boundaries and bringing tough, difficult and sometimes painful dialogue to the table.

I turned to enter the women's section and greeted two women leaving. I was drenched from the rain. It was not simply a passing "Shalom" but heart-felt and the women returned in kind. I kept walking and my eyes and thoughts were already two steps ahead when I felt a hand upon my shoulder.

"Please," she said. "Can I give you a hug?" Her accent was thick, but not Israeli.

She and her friend waited for me to respond. Even in the rain I could see that their eyes were filled with tears.

I don't know what moved me as I put my hand on her shoulder and said, "Can I give YOU a hug?" With that we embraced. I can not imagine how others passing by witnessed this moment. I only know that this woman hugged me and I hugged her; it lasted a few moments and her arms were strong. I could feel her sobs when she began to cry; I closed my eyes and cried along with her.

"Is this your first time here?" I asked.

I remember well how I felt the first time I put my hands upon those stones.

Their voices were soft and they answered together, "Yes."

They were here from Ghana and Ethiopia. "Bless you," they said as we parted ways. "Bless you."

Our hands were linked and then the connection was broken. I never even asked for her name.

I entered the women's section and slowly approached the Wall, listening again to the sounds around me: words of prayer, a voice from a cell phone held up to the Wall, shuffling feet, laughter, tears, rain. Buoyed forward by that woman's spontaneous hug and tears, I entered that space. I had arrived thinking that I couldn't possibly feel anything new or different. Instead, I saw and felt this place through her lens and her heart. She is the Kotel.

She will never know the gift she gave me.

~ Alix Brown

Congregation Kol Ami
White Plains, NY

Dream Revisited and Reformulated

By Susan Cosden

From the early days of Mashabei Sadeh

Before we left for Israel I was lamenting that the Dream of Israel, the dream of Labor Zionist Israel had died. I was therefore more than delighted to begin our trip last Thursday night in the at Kibbutz Mashabei Sadeh. While the kibbutz over the years has modernized by converting the abandoned children’s houses into country lodging and having members become silk artisans, this kibbutz still greeted us with sounds and smells of cows and roosters.The dining hall was still communal and the showers still had squeegees. So began my search for the dream and reality of kibbutzim in Israel.

On Shabbat afternoon in Tel Aviv, we were shown a different view of the dream of Israel through poetry. Lisa Grant, a professor of Education at the Hebrew Union College-Jewish Institute of Religion, led our group in an exploration of cultural change in Israel as seen through poetry, with some mention of Israeli music.  Grant shared with us how through the 60’s the poetry reflected the dream of a united Israel, turning everyone into the dream of one people – a Jewish people living the socialist, agricultural, Ashkenazic dream.

The next period of poetry began to celebrate the variety of individual voices – poets such as Erez Biton originally from Algeria, Lea Aini of Ladino-speaking Salonikan ancestry and Balfour Hakak. This current period of poetry now celebrates glocalization, looking at the world/changing the world globally while acting locally. This poetry forces us to see global issues from a local perspective, including a poem called Revenge by Taha Muhammad Ali.

So while the dream of Labor Zionist was represented as the national ideal for years Israel’s culture has grown to celebrate many more voices of Israel, In fact, our entire trip has been about the various narratives of one land, the land of Israel.

Tuesday afternoon we met members of a panel discussing Bringing Change to the Galilee. It was here that I learned that at least for a few Israelis the dream of socialist Zionism, kibbutz Zionism was alive - though it had been reformulated. Many of us had the great pleasure of meeting Tamir from Kibbutz Eshbal.

This is the newest kibbutz in the country.  Rather than being created as an agricultural kibbutz, which time has proven as an unsuccessful model, this kibbutz was created as an educational kibbutz. All of its members live an egalitarian, socialist lifestyle and work as educators in school, after school settings, and youth work. On the kibbutz is a boarding school for at risk youth. Tamir spends his days working on Kibbutz Eshbal and then returns at night to Carmiel, a town in the Galilee where he and the rest of his kvutzah (a small collective), with a few other collectives are working with the town of Carmiel to form a kibbutz within Carmiel. Tamir is a product of the youth movement of HaNoar HaOved U'HaLomed - which is the Israeli counterpart of Habonim Dror, from the United States.

I learned from Tamir that not only is the dream of socialism alive for some young adult in Israel but that it is being transformed. Just like the different period of poetry that were presented to us indicated, Israeli socialism has been converted from a dream that everyone would till the land as equals to make Israel green to as equals we can practice glocalization and make the world better by educating locally and improving our local towns and cities by making change from within.

Tonight we once again explored the cultural lens of Israel. We were divided into two groups and my group had the pleasure of attending Agrippas 12 Art Gallery– an art collective created after the 2^nd Intifada to help keep art alive in Jerusalem. This non-profit organization was created to bring artists closer to the public by having the artists themselves together be the curators. Tonight’s show was a group show by artists who are both members of the cooperative and others who were invited to show with them on the subject of Bringing Meaning Out of Darkness

In their own way these artists are redefining and reformatting the Israelite socialist dream to once again practice glocalization. These men and women discussed how this studio has influenced other studios in Jerusalem and throughout Israel and how they are even about to do a collaborative showing between various galleries in other regions of Israel and the Southwest United States, They also shared with us their desire to get lesser known artisans and artisan groups’ narratives seen and counted, such as artists with autism.

Most of the kibbutzim have chosen to privatize since I last lived in Israel. However, if Israel allows Labor Zionism to be a flexible definition that changes with the nation, it may continue to transform the nation into its highest ideals.

Susan Cosden, MAJE, RJE
Director of Education
Temple Beth El of Northern Westchester

Ohev Yisrael - Loving Israel

By Lynn Lancaster

We have spent the last few days listening to the stories of Israel, the stories of each other and following them up  with deep and meaningful conversations. Sometimes the stories drive home our long standing beliefs and sometimes they challenge us to move into places we have not been before.  Always they are framed by the question of how do they inform our work. 

Professor Alex Sinclair with our group
in the Library of Beit Schocken 

Alex Sinclair challenged us to move our learners beyond a simplistic understanding and love for Israel. He used the metaphor of a parent's relationship to an adolescent.  Those of us who are there (with our own adolescents) know that the relationship is complex, challenging, ever changing and yes built on a foundation of deep love and commitment.

Though I understand the metaphor, I wonder about the inequality of that relationship.  The innate push towards independence  and the power struggles. Who is parent, and who is child.  I think that I am more comfortable with the metaphor of marriage.  Sometimes passionate, sometimes not, sometimes easy, sometimes not - but always a relationship of equal and willing partners committed to each other and committed to making the relationship work.  Like a marriage, our engagement with Israel is not always easy nor is it always smooth but it is always meaningful and defining. 

I have no doubt that each of us will leave israel with a deeper relationship to Israel , a relationship that will effect the work we do with our learners and a relationship that will evolve over time.

Tzipori, Safforia - one place, two perspectives and more

By Hazzan Marian Turk

Today, on the seventh day of our Leadership Institute journey in Israel, I have seen beautiful landscapes, toured ancient ruins, met interesting people, seen an organic olive oil factory, and eaten the most delicious lunch I've ever had in my life. That's the snapshot of our day. Looking closer, a more complicated story of our day emerges, one that will have me thinking for quite a while. We spent the bulk of our day in and around the village of Tzippori, in northern Israel. 

Amin Muhammed Ali

We heard the story of a Palestinian who was born in 1935 in the village of Saffouria. In 1948, and in the aftermath of the war, Saffouria was evacuated and destroyed. It was settled by Jews and is now called Tzippori. Amin, the gentleman who shared his story with us, showed us a photograph of what Saffouria looked like before the 1948 war of independence. And we could see for ourselves what remained: nothing. 

No matter how fervently one believes in a Jewish homeland and the right of the Jews to live in Eretz Yisrael, it's impossible not to be moved by a human being standing before you telling his story. To make matters even more complicated, Amin is a close friend of Roberta Bell-Kligler, an American who made aliyah to Israel and who has been leading much of our trip. He even referred to Roberta as his sister. Yet they are both on opposite sides of the story. Amin told us that he wants to live in peace with Jews. Yet he also told us that he does not have a problem with the Jews, only the Zionists. None of us was able to get a direct answer from him about what the distinction is between Jews and Zionists, but in his mind there is one. 

After we heard from Amin, we visited the Tzippori National Park. Tzippori, or Sephoris as it was known in ancient times, was inhabited in the Roman and Byzantine periods. In addition, there was a thriving Jewish community there in ancient times, and the Mishnah, part of the code of Jewish law, was redacted by Yehuda HaNasi in Tzippori. We walked among excavated ancient ruins and saw evidence of the mingling of cultures at that time. We saw, in the villa of Yehuda HaNasi, a Greek-inspired mosaic with scenes of celebrations of the Greek god Dionysus. In the excavated site of one of Tzippori's 18 ancient synagogues, we saw another Greek-inspired mosaic portraying the Zodiac. We were reminded of how Judaism has always been influenced by the surrounding culture where Jews lived. 

By the time we were done exploring Tzippori National Park we were all ready for lunch. I don't think any of us could have imagined the fresh, delicious feast that awaited us at the Resh Lakish Cafe, an organic olive oil manufacturer and cafe named after the third century sage of the Talmud. 

A wonderful lunch
at Resh Lakish!

First we heard the story of one of Resh Lakish's proprietors, how she and her husband came with their 3 children to Israel, had 3 more children, and eventually converted a chicken coop into an olive oil factory. When we went inside to the cafe, we were greeted by tables full of olives, cheeses, fresh salads and tomatoes, and other fresh, delicious food. Everything about the meal was organic, down to the compostable plates, napkins, and flatware. 

After we had our fill of lunch and had purchased olive oil products, we headed to the home of Roberta Bell-Kligler, our teacher and guide in Israel. All 42 of us Leadership Institute fellows were warmly welcomed into Roberta's home on Moshav Tzippori, where we had dessert and admired the collection of ancient jug handles and mosaic pieces that Roberta had found on the moshav's property. 

Roberta told us the story of how she and her husband had come to Israel in the 70s and built a life for themselves in Israel, and how Holocaust survivors had come to Tzippori in 1950, been given 300-square-foot homes, and had farmed the land. Roberta spoke passionately about how she and her husband came to Israel to be in the Jewish homeland, and to build a life in the Jewish state. A one-state solution to the Israel/Palestinian conflict, as Amin had indicated this morning that he wanted, would mean the end of the Jewish state, as Jews would no longer be the numeric majority. 

What we Leadership Institute fellows got today from our travels in Tzippori was a mosaic of narratives. We heard three very different stories and explored the remains of some ancient stories. And we were left with many more questions than answers. Everything in life has a cost, and I came away from this amazing, challenging day wondering what the cost of Jewish survival will be, and what the future holds for our beloved Jewish homeland. 

Shalom u’vracha from the holy land, 

Hazzan Marian Turk

The Culinary Queens of Yerucham put Sallah Shabbati to bed!

Topol as Sallah Shabbati

Many of us of a certain age (50ish and older) were shown the Israeli movie Sallah Shbbati - in youth group, or in religious school, or - as in my case - on a rainy day at camp, cooped up in a M*A*S*H style tent we called the Beit Am. It was a black and white, and was made in 1964. It was for a long time the most successful film in Israeli history. It starred two actors who were then unknown outside of Israel, Gila Almagor and Topol - before he starred as Tevye in Fiddler on the Roof or as Hans Zarkov in Flash Gordon.
Danny Yarhi, writing in iMDB describes the film:

A Yemenite Jewish family that was flown to Israel during "Operation Magic Carpet" - a clandestine operation that flew 49,000 Yemenite Jews to Israel the year after the state was formed - is forced to move to a government settlement camp. The patriarch of the family tries to make money and get better housing, in a country that can barely provide for its own and is in the midst absorbing hundreds of thousands of Jewish refugees from Arab countries. Humor, sensitivity, politics and music highlight this capsule of history.

It was an hysterically funny comedy. Seeing it years later with a much deeper knowledge of Israeli history, that comedy turns out to be an incredibly biting dark satire and social commentary on Israeli society in the 50's. It brings out the best and worst of Israel - the wondrous rescue of nearly forgotten Jews and the far less than ideal treatment of non-Ashkenazi Jews by the European born or descended elites of Israel.

I recall one scene where Sallah is given a job planting trees by the Jewish National Fund. An official plants a sign next to the saplings with the name of a couple from the Diaspora. As a driver brings them up to the forest, the official tells them that thanks to their generosity, this was "their" forest. As soon as they left, the official took down the sign and replaced it with one with another name, just as another official drove up with another donor from abroad. Sallah accuses the official of dishonesty. When the next donors come to see "their" forest, Sallah starts plucking the new trees out of the ground!

As a member of the Leadership Institute, I had the pleasure for the second time to visit with one of the Culinary Queens of Yerucham. It was created by Atid Bamidbar (The Future is in the Desert) to "create opportunities for local women with no or low incomes, from diverse ethnic groups in town, to host visiting groups from Israel and abroad in their homes for an enriching multicultural culinary and human experience. The encounter gives visitors a great meal, warm hospitality, and insight into the lives of local residents and Jewish ethnic traditions; it provides the hostesses with added income, a boost to self-esteem and a widening of horizons."

It was all of that and more.

Mazal and her husband Jojo were wonderful and 20 of us had a wonderful meal. And the best part was Jojo's storytelling. He was animated, expressive and funny. He told of coming from Tunisia at the age of five with his parents. They wanted to go to Jerusalem. They were loaded on a truck at the port and driven through the night. They were told they were in Jerusalem and dumped in the desert. He has been in Yerucham ever since. He also told the story of their courtship. Rather than explain it, here are three videos!

Enjoy.

Part I 

Mazal and the other Queens have taken the dark satire of Sallah Shabbati and set it aside. They are part of several projects from Atid Bamidbar and other agencies like Nativ that are changing the face of Yerucham and other development towns in the Negev. Sallah seemed to have little hope. Not so any more.

And think about how the culinary queens are one of many projects that is helping this community that has spent so long in the economic trough climb out. And make it a point to visit them for lunch! It is worth it!

Part II 

  Part III

Crossposted to Welcome to the Next Level

What a great first day in Israel!

After landing at Ben Gurion Airport in Tel Aviv we drove south to go into the Negev, and spent our first night in Kibbutz Mashabei Sadeh.  It was my first time in the desert, and my first time staying at a 'real' kibbutz.  Just smelling the desert air was a new and special experience.

Our first morning in Israel we took a meditative hike in the desert, another new experience for me.  I highly recommend it!

And then we were on our way to Yerucham, a development town that is remaking itself into a center of  social, educational and cultural life in the desert.  We visited with the Ass't Principal of a local school, and then went to the home of one of the 'Culinary Queens of Yerucham' - another unbelievable experience! These are women who are economically disadvantaged, and are great cooks and gracious hosts.  They open up their homes to visitors, and cook multi-course meals.  There were 20 in our group, and we sampled 15 or so different homemade dishes.  We were also regaled with the family's story of how they came to Yerucham, and some insights into their lives here.  I am happy to share their cookbook with you.

As I type this we are on the bus on our way to Tel Aviv, to prepare for Shabbat.  We are excited to be hosting 11 Lone Soldiers for Shabbat dinner tonight.

A special note to our friends who came to Israel last year with SHJC....our friend and tour guide Shari Robins is on this trip.  She sends love and regards to each of you, and is excited to lead another SHJC trip next February.  We are working on some of the details this week.

I'm here less than 24 hours....and it already feels 'home'.

With gratitude, and Shabbat Shalom,

Sherry Gutes.

Our Journey Begins...

Here I am!

I was hoping to post last nightafter our Opening Ceremony, but lack of wifi and a little jet lag got in the way. But make no mistake, we are here, and this is definitely a huge WE. 42 fellows and mentors of the Leadership Institute have begun a magnificent journey together. Under last night's full moon we came together to sing & read poetry to frame our experience. My favorite: "Using all of our senses: Let's gaze at the moon. Let's smell the air. Let's feel the wind. Let's hear the night. Let's touch the earth. Let us sense the gifts of nature around us."

As a Jewish Educator commited to disability awareness, I know that this multi-sensory approach is a blessing. In the midst of Jewish Disabilty Awareness Month I am keenly aware of the significance of reaching every learner. My goal will be to experience Israel with all of my senses. As I honor those who learn differently. Then will I know that I am truly here.