Sharing Shearim

she has 100 gates, all of them leading in

but alike in appearance when locked or not

so one needs to turn the handle

a hearty heft of shoulder and

hip to see if the hinges will budge

some of them are marked to

beware of dogged thought

alarm wire hidden on thresh, behold

key under the fake, bolder

under surveillance of query

but one needs to turn the handle

and reveal layers of conquest

gates within guarding the heart of the matter

secondary and tertiary considerations

 one leading to others, a diverged path, 

thus forced to choose an identity

this maze of gates can bog the weary 

traveler that may freeze with indecision 

others may prefer to jump the fence

out before they find the way

in they might be surprised

if they would only turn the handle

Beginnings

This week I had the privilege to lead my cohort in prayer, the first official student led teffilot of the year (you've gotta love alphabetical order).  In light of the initial nature of the service, the start of the school term, and the quickly approaching Rosh HaShana, my cantor partner and I themed the service after beginnings.  What follows is a consolidated copy of my comments:

Before we begin

We are in a season of beginnings; with new classes, the onset of our professional journeys, and the beginning of the religious calendar upon us, we begin again.  New beginnings can be a challenge or a relief.  Some experiences can be unsettling at first during a period of acclimation.  Take a moment to take stock: will you use your own beginning as a fresh start? Is there an ending that made this beginning possible? What do you carry with you and what do you leave behind?

For me when I open a new book, wafting the smell of crisp new pages, or I settle back as the opening movie credits begin to roll, or I meet someone new for the first time, I feel a sense of mystery and excitement.  There is anticipation for what may be found down the road: a promise of what is to come.  Even though I am eager to know what lies ahead, I like to pause during moments like this. Beginnings, while sweet, are also fleeting.  So often, we dive into new experiences without hesitation, eager to encounter something novel, but then we may find ourselves caught up, lost even, or lacking closure from where we were before.  Beginnings are a liminal state; if we stop and reflect I think we may enjoy the new experience all the more.

Thus, as I begin a new year, I look back.  The previous year was characterized by change as I concluded my jobs working with Friedman Place, Temple Sholom, and Avodah in Chicago, I moved away from communities that supported me, and I entered a new community on the other side of the planet.  My family has expanded with new births and weddings recently.  My loved ones have engaged with new opportunities, and experienced a plethora of beginnings of their own.  In leading services for the first time here today, I look forward.  This symbolically and literally leads me into a new chapter of my life. I am unsure if what I do is sufficient nor do I know where my actions and decisions lead me, but I do know that I am here now.  For Plato, "The beginning is the most important part of the work." In actively reflecting and planning for the year and years ahead, the work is the most important part of the beginning.

Northern Exposure

Morning Services IN the Kinneret!

In quick succession, I have had new opportunities to explore the hilly northern regions of Israel.  The first came as a getaway among friends during the break between summer and fall academic terms. Seven of us piled into small little car and wound our way among earthen redoubts and bovine sanctuaries.  Our main destination was Tzfat (Safed?), the ancient city of mysticism and art.  Some say this is the highest city in the Galilee and Israel; the view from our rented apartment would support this claim.  I remember stopping in Tzfat during Birthright. Walking down the cobblestone sidewalks, I was reminded of the colorful places of worship and the rows of galleries with their windows looking out on the countryside.  My friends and I spent our break relaxing by sampling  locally produced wine, goat cheese, and olive oils.  We admired the artisanry  and ritual objects.  As we browsed talliyot and jewelry, the microcalligrapher who illustrates biblical scenes with the complete text promised a free print if we could find an error.  Perhaps a return trip is in order after the completion of our Biblical Grammar course?

Smiles at Tel Hai

Busy schedules drew us back to Jerusalem after two nights, but within a week, we found ourselves driving northwards again as part of the first study tiyul of our year for our Israel Seminar with the rest of our colleagues. This journey brought us to the Kinneret region including Kibbutz Degania, the city of Tiberias, and a stop in Nazareth.  Framing our trip was the pioneer experience of the early kibbutznikim, people who gave up lives elsewhere to reinvent themselves and the land 100 years ago.  This concept informs a piece of Israel's identity and continues to be played out through agricultural and modern urban kibbutzim. We stopped by one urban kibbutz whose mission is built on education and youth outreach.  The group relies on consensus model decision making, something with which I am only too familiar (shout out #weareavodah), to coordinate daily operations and life with young children.  As a long term arrangement, I wonder what life would be like in a complete cooperative.  Can such a model persist alongside a society built on capitalist ideals?

Gan HaShlosha: sunnyday destination

Our adventures concluded with a visit to Gan HaShlosha, a national park and natural spring.  Few things are as refreshing as a quick swim with nibbling fish, waterfalls, and some swimming buddies. In these clear waters, you can see people of all denominations and races swimming together.  Now fall term is in full swing, but hopefully more refreshing swimming excursions lie ahead in my future!

Repeated Stories

With the conclusion of the summer term, I can report completing the first few classes of my 5 year grad school career.  This benchmark feels like it has been a long time coming, but in the larger scope of my learning, I realize there are miles to go before I sleep.  Still I'd like to stop here and reflect, especially because one of the classes under our collective belts in Biblical History, a survey of early experiences and geography in this region.  We shared lectures and field trips to see remains of the civilizations that ruled the Levant and traversed Mesopotamia in the centuries before the common era.  This historical material record of building foundations, tools, inscriptions, and materials of daily life we placed in the context of the biblical narrative.

If walls could talk, would they also read the Bible?

It is fun to visit the places where the Matriarchs and Patriarchs lived and the sites of great religious significance, but it can be challenging to establish the historicity of all bible stories.  Some of the historical relics that archaeologists have uncovered are inconsistent with the chronology of the text.  Such anachronisms pose a serious challenge to views that the Bible is a record of the history of the Hebrew people.  This makes me wonder whether as a teacher or faith leader it is more important to study history or the text.  Are these mutually exclusive fields? We lack evidence for some of the places and people but clearly many parts of the Bible are corroborated by the mention of places that existed, actual internal leaders and the leaders of neighboring kingdoms.

My previous entry is a work of imagination inspired by our journey to Tel Laqish, a stronghold of the Judean kingdom, where Assyrian forces under Sennacherib held an 8 month siege around 701 BCE.  This conquest is documented in the Laqish letters found on the Tel and by the victory stele found in the Palace of Sennacherib in Ninevah.  These detailed composite illustrations (now on display in the British museum, copies in the Israel Museum) document the ramps and engines used to break through the stone walls built atop the already soaring tel.  Walking the site today, you can still see the stones of the ramp as well as the remaining structures of the gate, palace, and temple from the Iron Age occupation.

Photo credit to Josh Gischner 

Laqish is found in the Bible - several times actually - with the siege being described in II Kings 18, Chronicles, and Isaiah.  This, then, is an example of the biblical narrative upheld by history. However, just as I created a piece inspired by this story, it is possible to evaluate the biblical sources in reference to an author with an intended message.  Such a reading pulls me in contrary directions, feeling both sacrilegious and realistic. However, I think wrestling with these questions is precisely the point, and I hope to continue parsing out meaning with colleagues and congregants to come.

Also found at Ninevah

Atop the walls of Tel Laqish we stood
eight months straight, watching ramp's ascension
compiling stocks with heaps of rock and wood
slowly breaking disbelief suspension.
Siege engines promise imminent attack
Assyrians held off with tête-à-tête
weak of heart realize no going back
and searing pitch offers no welcome mat -
we held up our hands with white flag aloft
resigned, forced to bow our heads in defeat
and give up our spoils, dignity coifed -
humble pie crumbling beneath desert heat

  winds of glum surreality breezing
  relief from our walls silently easing

Memory for a blessing

First off, I was not present for the terrible incident on Thursday July 30th during which 6 individuals were attacked while voicing support for equality at the Jerusalem Pride Parade. I was not standing with my classmates and the other brave souls who let their voices be known and in doing so unwittingly faced the very malevolence they sought to combat.  I regret my absence, but no distance can shield one from the ripples of reaction that reverberate outwards from such tragedy. Thus, I am humbled by the rallies to action and words of support that have cavalcaded forth in the wake of this destruction.  My heart goes out to all those who experienced emotional turmoil during or following the attack, all of those injured, and most of all to the family of Shira Banki, who succumbed to the wounds she sustained last Sunday.

Photo credit: Josh Gischner

What is most sad for me is that such incidents are not rare.  For some residents of the Middle East, encounters with terror are a daily occurrence.  The important thing, then, must not to become tempered to these events; how then to preserve the daily functions and yet pay due heed to travesty?  What is difficult about this latest incident is that it was perpetrated by a religious Jewish man.  As a student of religion, how can I reconcile destructive behavior in the name of faith with an act so clearly in violation of our commandments? It would behoove my interests to say the perpetrator is not truly Jewish - or did not act Jewishly - giving in to hate and malice, committing murder, and attempting to silence voices of equality.  Yet, by taking his religious banner, this is on par with those who do not consider Reform Judaism a true expression of the faith.

Among the many reasons for my presence here is to confront and understand Israel in all her iterations.  That this should include the volatility and violence displayed last week is beyond the scope of learning for which I might have hoped.  Still, for better or worse, my observations also include the unity and resolutions that have resulted, the statements by leaders political and religious condemning such actions, and the integration of many communities in the pursuit of peace.  On the whole I am left with many questions, some of which I lack the means of expressing, but I am comforted that I have a community among my cohort to provide support and an avenue for exploration.

Averse to sand

"What's for desert?" - a question oft misheard
yet not unsweet decadence beheld
spices subtle, blooming flowers upon the tongue
lingering notes dip over palate horizon
take in, savor, and digest
not to rush nor clear your plate
take seconds with abandon
flavors ruminate, eyes engorge their fill
so ask your query
the answer lies ahead, save room

Feet on the ground, head in the clouds

Although each day brings its own opportunities to learn about my surroundings and become increasingly accustomed to patterns of life, I can report attaining a new stage of awareness having completed "Orientation Week".  Our cohort reached full strength - 33 in number - and we shared a series of programs to become better acquainted with one another, our campus, and our host city.
Orientation began with discussions about Hebrew and culture shared with members of the administration and HUC alumni.  This happened to fall on July 4th, but of course Independence Day is not a widely observed holiday among my neighbors.  To add even more humor to the situation, several faculty members are of British origin and provided their own hearty well wishes.  I don't believe I have experienced Independence Day outside the U.S. before, but fear not, I still got my fireworks fix in honor of Ramadan.

כִּי מִצִּיּוֹן תֵּצֵא תוֹרָה, וּדְבַר יְיָ מִירוּשָׁלָֽיִם

Another highlight from orientation week included conducting an anthropological observation of life in Jerusalem.  In a place replete with historical significance, it was notable to speak with the shopkeepers and residents about their relationships with the landmarks they pass everyday.  We discovered that they experience these evocative places so often that they lose significance.  This growing tolerance is a natural part of human nature, but it leads to a necessary question.  Is it better to keep our most important relics and sentimental reminders close at hand or out of sight to be examined only during special moments?  Does a wedding ring worn daily lose its meaning? Is the Sefer Torah best left concealed in the ark until sacred moments and rituals require its use?  Should I decorate my home with reminders of things I do not value and squirrel away my mementos and keepsakes?

Orientation posed many such questions as we got a taste of some of our experiences to come.  I may have learned much during the various sessions on the meaning of history vs heritage, Israel-Palestinian relations, and several dvrei torah, I but I'm certain I came to know how much I do not yet know.  Eventually, we wrapped up the week with a wonderful havdalah during which everyone shared their own blessing.  Havdalah has consistently been one of my favorite ceremonies to observe at camp, during Avodah, and with so many Jewish communities.  It is clear that my fellow classmates also hold the ceremony dear and that they are not afraid of singing out - the passion and volume of song rings in my ears still now, 24 hours later.

Photo Cred: Josh Gischner

Springs in Summer

Apparently, even if I don't post as frequently, the pace of life here in Jerusalem does not slow.  We are nearing the end of the first ulpan chapter, which means it is time to welcome more friends to our cohort. Luckily there is ample opportunity to invite newcomers along on adventures.

Rabbis in training can get up to some monkey business

Last week a few of us went out to the Jerusalem Peace forest to hike among the maayanot - fresh springs that collect in small pools.  These oases are especially surprising to encounter along the side of a steep mountain, mostly populated by scrubby vegetation, dusty paths, and rocky caverns.  We made our way down one declivity, passing wild herbs, cacti, and scuttling lizards, then climbed up the other side.  Sure enough, like a mirage, soon we came upon the first spring.  The hiking trail we followed was desolate of fellow wanderers, but the green-tinged waters of the pool were crowded with swimmers.  Intern Udi reassured us that this was not the only one, so on we hiked.  Looking down into the lee of the summit, one can see Hadassah hospital, small villages, and the tops of the trees making up the rest of the forest.  The foliage is thick and mature in the valley, but from above one can see the unnatural orderliness characteristic of manual planting.  I am reminded how, despite the history of so many places here, other parts of this nation are still fledgling.

Hiking under the watchful sun, we earned a suitably sweaty countenance by the time we reached the next spring.  This one was less populated and we decided to test the waters.  Cold, certainly, but refreshing.  Living waters that they are, we were tempted to hold a mikvah.  Other patrons included families with young children, groups of young adults with barbeques, and dirt bikers - naturally we blended right in.

Later, after everyone had a chance to dry off and collect themselves, we retreated to one of the caverns to discuss the week's parshah.  Chukat (appropriately for our setting) centers on issues of water conservation among the Wandering Jews in the desert.  Perhaps their anxiety stemmed from their impending entrance to the Holy land?  We reflected on the theme of being on a precipice; the fear of what is to come or simply not knowing what that could be. For me, I am not scared, but I am certainly more than a little apprehensive.  Here I am starting something I know to be big and to have a significant influence on the person I continually become.  In taking on this academic and spiritual task, I am effectively making a commitment.  This is difficult for me in an age when the taste-sized ice cream spoons of life are ubiquitous and alluring.  Thankfully, I find affirmation in the discussions we have held so far and the casual interactions our team has shared.

Speaking of ice cream, we celebrated our victorious day with gelato at First Station. I don't know if it was due to the heat, the rigor of our excursion, or the fine company, but as my Pha always says: "Everything tastes better when you eat it outside."

"Spring forward, Fall back"

On Spies, Visitors, and Harlequins

In the land of milk and honey, adventures cease to abate.  Now my Hebrew language classes - called ulpan -are in full swing five days a week, which here means Sunday to Thursday.  This shift in what constitutes the lion's share of the week is pleasantly jarring but I think I've been more productive because I'm still in the habit of being productive on Fridays prior to Shabbat.  This past Friday for example, I did some serious knowledge acquisition in the Christian quarter of the Old City with exploration in the Church of the Holy Sepulchre.  The nave and transept proper are quite historic given that several of the stations of the cross may be found inside.  This translates to heavy traffic in the Church, but it is emotionally captivating to take in the vicarious experience of the other patrons.

Fewer feet fall on the staircase down to the cistern below the Church; my cohort made our way through a smaller door off to the side of the main courtyard and through a few winding hallways before heading down a damp, poorly lit passage.  The ceiling slunk low with the steps laden unevenly.  We traversed through this narrow place into a cavern, walls worn smooth by centuries of waterflow.  We took advantage of the excellent natural acoustics with a few songs of Kabbalat Shabbat - the echoes and reverberations are magnificent.  I was worried other patrons might be disturbed, but everyone who happened upon our group was very supportive - one woman even sang with us!

After our impromptu song sesh, we climbed up to the roofs of the Old City for some pre-Shabbos Torah study.  The portion of the week, Shlach L'cha brings us the tale of Moses sending an emissary from each of the 12 tribes into the Land of Israel to report back on what they find. Most of them come back warning of the intimidating size of the inhabitants and their impressive fruit production.  Only the voice of the minority remains optimistic at what the future may bring in this strange new land.  It does not take much imagination stretching to recognize that this portion is relevant to me and my fellow recent arrivals in the literal sense that we are exploring Israel and being shocked at the size of the grapes in the grocery store.  In a greater sense though this story is meaningful to anyone at the onset of a new chapter, unsure of what to expect and prone to the mercy of their own doubt.

A little rooftop exploration in the Old City

Speaking of envoys coming from afar, I am so pleased to report my first visitors.  Shout out to Beth Tikvah Congregation and the group who spent a lovely day with me in Jerusalem while here on tour.  I love meeting new people always, but there is great comfort in visiting with familiar friendly faces.  I can also report my first house guest; jealous? You too are welcome to my hospitality.  Plan your visit today!

She'elot

questions

//where am I / this land of sand and cats and machine gun toting youths / so handsome and deadly
why are there no screens on my windows / pungently flowing with flies and lavender
who planted a desert flowering with an ancient novel language / double entendre headlines of athletic liturgy
when did voltaic cells and diesel smells outnumber magpie yells and pioneer bells
what am I doing on these hallowed grounds / kilometer worn sandals holding rites left wrong by dual identity streets
how can I hope to capture her majesty / caught between a cool shabbos breeze and an impending ulpanorama//

Shabbos Rishon

The first Shabbat brought with it an opportunity to see the city in a new light.  Although I had been warned, the quiet of Friday evening was pleasantly jarring.  Gone were the hectic motorists and the smooth talking shop owners, l'hitraot to the construction team hammering next door and the delivery trucks pulled up onto the sidewalk.  I welcomed kabbalat and maariv with a small group at an Orthodox minyan.  These are clearly people who have davened together regularly for years and yet still bring their own tunes and tempos to every prayer.  The congregant who had the most fun might have been the young daughter of the chazzen who darted from beyond the mechitza and consulted with every person individually about the contents of her coloring book.

I shared dinner with some of my fellow ulpan students at a potluck - the first of many, I'm sure.  There was something notable, an almost tangible quality, when we made kiddush.  I do not know if it was the joy of celebrating Shabbat for the first time here or if it was something about the company present, but no one could keep from smiling.  We dined in style of course with wonderful shakshuka, chickpeas, Israeli salad, and chocolate rugelach from Marzipan.  I felt positively about the whole experience and can't wait to do it all again.

The following day provided some much needed Shabbat m'nucha.  In the afternoon, I took a hike through the city and explored the sculptural gardens near the Museum.  The amount of greenery in this country is truly amazing given the climate and the lack of rainfall.  Our cohort came back together for Havdalah in a park near school overlooking the Old City.  As we sang together and watched the sun descend on the glimmering walls, I breathed easily and bid the First Shabbat adieu.

PS. Today's selection prepared while listening to: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xAGKdkf0viM

Old City, New Experiences

Excitedly, I report having arrived in Jerusalem, Israel to begin what promises to be a most fruitful year of study and exploration as well as the first chapter of my Hebrew Union College journey.  On these pages, I aim to reflect on the adventure and share as best I can with friends and family the world over.  Feel free to comment here or direct questions, suggestions, and exclamations of praise to my email.

photo cred: Dan Geigerman

When one thinks about the ancient city of Jerusalem, especially
the historic and culturally precious Old City, the first images that come to mind obviously include pyrotechnics, neon lights, booming bass lines, and a general party atmosphere.  Perhaps not, but upon my arrival in Israel's capital city following a smooth enough international flight and a marginally harrowing sherut ride from the airport, the sight of projected light displays greeted me in the Old City.  It is not my belief that the proprietors are planning a revision of the city's image, but rather that the inception of my Israel adventures coincided with the beginning of the Festival of Light in Jerusalem.  I had the chance to explore some of the routes independently and then to return the next evening with some of my new classmates to delve further.  We found that the exhibits were enjoyable, but my intrigue was magnified by their context; smoke machines in the Cardo and strobe shadows alighting upon the golden stone buildings made for an anachronistic gallery.  One of my favorite exhibits involved a live projection of dynamic sand art.  The curation of the Festival was also notable for what it wasn't - namely the fact that the routes did not disturb any of the four religious Quarters of the Old City.

I look forward to whatever new and unexpected turns may be coming in the near future.  Until then, I will be starting my Hebrew language studies tomorrow. L'hitraot!