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!