Hanukkah Never Happened

Hanukkah Never Happened.

That’s what Maen Rashid Areikat, the PLO’s chief representative to the United States, would no doubt say.  In a recent op-ed piece in the Washington Post Areikat makes the claim that the Palestinian people have a rich and deep history, one that dates back as far as 10,000 B.C.E. He claims that Palestinians “have lived under the rule of a plethora of empires: the Canaanites, Egyptians, Philistines, Israelites, Persians, Greeks, Romans, Crusaders, Mongols, Ottomans and, finally, the British.”  (You can read Areikat’s piece in full here: http://www.washingtonpost.com/opinions/palestine-a-history-rich-and-deep/2011/12/21/gIQALJ6GLP_story.html)

Did you notice the obscurity of one well - documented indigenous group?   That’s right, the Jewish people are left out of his narrative.  After mentioning the Israelites in a chain of occupiers the Jewish people seemingly disappear from the scene.  Palestinians don't encounter Jews in the land until we arrive from Europe.  We're nothing more than carpet-baggers.  This is all part of the Palestinian attempt to eradicate the Jewish people's historical claims and connection to the Land of Israel.  Palestinian nationalism is a modern movement born of the 20^th century.  It evolved when Arabs living in Palestine (named by the Romans after the Philistines) during the British Mandate realized that their Arab brethren (e.g. Egyptians, Syrians, and the Hashemites) had abandoned them in the quest for their own respective territorial interests. 

But that is neither here nor there.  The Palestinian people (once called Palestinian Arabs) exist as a political reality.  They have their own national aspirations that deserve to be fulfilled by way of a two-state solution.  As a people who yearned for 2,000 years for a restoration to our national homeland, we understand those yearnings better than anyone else.  But Areikat’s revisionist history is the sort of fiction that is both ironic and tragic.  Ironic in that it’s yet another example of the Palestinians proclivity to cry foul when others, like Newt Gingrich, call into question their historicity as a people; a strategy they’ve been employing against the Jewish people for decades.  Tragic in that it's the way the Palestinians teach their children history in school.  It's also the way they continue to make their people ill prepared for a final resolution of their status with Israel. 

An Open and Sent Email to Tom Friedman

Dear Tom,

I'm emailing to express my sadness, distress, anger, incredulity and outright exasperation related to your column of December 13th entitled, “Newt, Mitt, Bibi and Vladimir."  Mine is probably one of many emails you've no doubt received from other angry readers and subscribers of The New York Times. I've been a subscriber of the paper for many years.  But now that I've paid my most recent bill I'll be cancelling my subscription.

My decision - not an easy one for me to make - is a result of the unrelenting assault on the Time's Op-Ed page against the State of Israel and it's supporters; one which reached a crecendo this week in your column.  I won't restate the critique of your intial words, or of your apology.  I'm sure you're well aware of what folks like the AJC's David Harris and the editors of The Jewish Week have written related to both.  As a Rabbi who loves and supports Israel but who is also critical of Israel when a tokhekha is necessary, I completely agree with your critics.

I would only add that my decision to leave the Times as a subscriber is also a  result of the paper's decision to edit the heart of David Harris' letter to the editor; the only letter published by the Times in response to your column.  I find it tragically ironic that the Times rightfully applauds expressions of free speech and political dissent and admonshes political leaders like Vladimir Putin when those expressions are attacked, curtailed or manipluated, but employs some of the same tactics when it comes to its own columnists.  Perhaps I'd feel a bit better knowing that you walked into your editor's office and said something like, "I'm a big boy, I can take criticism.  Go ahead and print David Harris' letter in full.  He's a well-respected leader of the American Jewish community, I'm not afraid of his critique, and print some of the other letters we got too.  We should be role models when it comes to expemplifying free and fair political discourse."

I'm hoping in the future I'll want to renew my subscription.  In all honesty, it will depend on you and your editors.

Hag urim sameah,

Rabbi Jacob Herber
Congregation Beth Israel
6880 N. Green Bay Avenue
Glendale, WI 53209

Israel Just Made Engaging with Israel That Much More Difficult

My friend, colleague, and Hartman RLI hevrutah partner, Rabbi David Cohen, and I have spent the last four weeks presenting the Hartman Institute's Engaging Israel program to our respective congregants and other members of Milwaukee's Jewish community.  The  goal of  the Engaging Israel Project is to respond to growing feelings of disenchantment and disinterest toward Israel among an ever-increasing number of Jews worldwide by creating a new narrative regarding the significance of Israel for Jewish life.  So far it's been an extraordinary experience, but a challenging one nonetheless, as we've attempted to help how our participants reconcile their strongly held and beloved American values with traditional Jewish values as they all relate to Israel.  I think we've made some substantive, real progress.  

But now I wonder if all of our work is threatened with being undone.  Today, videos produced by Israel's Ministry of Immigrant Absorption and distributed in key American cities have gone viral.  The Atlantic's Jeffrey Goldberg has blogged about them (you can read his post and watch the videos here: http://www.theatlantic.com/international/archive/2011/11/netanyahu-government-suggests-israelis-avoid-marrying-american-jews/249166/and they are all over social media forums like facebook. The t.v. spots are aimed at Israelis who live here in America.  If you listen to the dialogue and watch the body language of the actors it's quite clear that the ads present a negative critique of the Jewish American experience. The Israeli Jew is imperiled by the non-Jewish religious and cultural milieu that surrounds American Jews who are seemingly either incapable or uninterested in responding to those influences. The message is quite clear:  if you're an Israeli living in America your Jewishness (and that of your children) is endangered.  

Other innuendos abound.  Israeli Jewishness is apparently richer, more profound and more pure that that of American Jewry.  That critique is an unfair, untrue and myopic description of American Jewish life.  The fact is, Israeli culture, both social and religious, is and continues to be deeply enriched by our Jewish culture here in America.   Just as we American Jews can learn much from our Israeli brothers and sisters - the importance of the Hebrew language and literature to Jewish life - is but one example that comes to mind, Israelis can learn much from us American Jews about religious pluralism and the paradigms we've developed for living a meaningful Jewish life in the face of modernity.  

Instead of validating the Judaism of Jerusalem and New York, Tel Aviv and Chicago, Haifa and Los Angeles, these cynical ads pit one against the other.  Most damaging and troubling they demean and devalue the American Jewish community.  They throw up one more impediment to American Jews reconnecting and engaging with Israel.  And speaking tahlis, they make my job and Rabbi Cohen's job that much more difficult.

No Tom, Palestinians Will Determine Salam Fayyad's Success, Not Israelis

Tom Friedman needs to visit Gaza and the west Bank, and soon.  In his most recent New York Times column (http://www.nytimes.com/2011/11/30/opinion/israel-and-the-arab-awakening.html?_r=1&ref=opinion) Friedman argues that Israel holds the key - the only key it seems - to peace with the Palestinians.  That key is visionary support for Salam Fayyad, the Palestinian Authority's Prime Minister.  "He's [Fayyad] been the most radical Arab leader of all," Friedman writes,  "He is the first Palestinian leader to say: judge me on my performance in improving my peoples' lives, not on my rhetoric.  His focus has been on building institutions - including what Israelis admit is a security force that has helped to keep Israel peaceful  - so Palestinans will be ready for a two-state solution."  While I would claim that Israel's security from terrorist attacks is due in large part to the unfortunate exitsence of the security barrier, it's hard to argue with Friedman's assertion that the Palestinians' success is tied inextricably with Fayyad's.  He is a serious leader who - unlike other Palestinian leaders before him as well as contemporaries like Mahmoud Abbas - has quietly gone about building the infrastutre necessary for a future Palestinian state.  As Tal Becker, a Senior Fellow at the Shalom Hartman Institute, once told me and my Hartman RLI colleagues, "I never before met a Palestinian leader who gets excited about budgets until I met Salam Fayyad."  Plain and simple, Fayad is a technocrat and a state builder.  Revolutionary leaders like Yassar Arafat have gotten the Palestinans nothing.  They need more leaders like Salaym Fayyad who build schools, hospitals, museums, etc.; all of the necessary institutions that will make a future Palestinian viable, while at the same time eschewing terrorism as a moral and effective form of resistance.

But here's where Friedman is wrong.  Israel will not determine whether Fayyad succeeds.  The Palestinian people will.  Yes, Israel can and certainly should help Fayyad, not out of some altruistic reason, but for its own sake, for the sake of its own security and desire to achieve a lasting peace.  But if the Palestinian people don't support Fayyad, if other Palestinian leaders don't support Fayyad, his future and that of the Palestinian people will be imperiled.  Isn't that what the "Arab Spring" was supposedly all about, the people throwing out tryrants and oppressors and supporting instead leaders who had their interests at heart?  The fact is, Fayyad is reviled and hated by Hamas and by Mahmoud Abbas in large part because of his success in rooting out graft and corruption, and because they view him as serious political threat.  He can't even enter the Gaza Strip for fear of being assassinated by his Hamas rivals. Friedman criticizes the Israelis for withholding $100 million in in Palestinian tax revenues and argues that they should reward Fayyad by giving him the money he needs.  Prime Minister Netanyahu has indeed agreed to release the $100 million to the P.A..  But if Fayyad is under threat from his own Palestinian interlocutors what difference would it make if Israel showers him with hunderds of millions of shekels? Yes, Israel should wisely leverage its power and make its political calculations for the sake of supporting true agents of peace.  But in the end, those who will determine the success of their leaders are the people, and in this case the Palestinian people.  Perhaps if Tom Friedman visited Gaza and Ramallah he would see things a bit more clearly.   

A Poem for September 11th

On My Bike One September 11th
by Rabbi Jacob Herber

While on my bike turning the pedals
contemplating the meaning of this day,
a truck approaches in the lane across from mine.
A tall flag flutters from behind the cab
the stripes and stars a familiar sight.
I raise my arm with thumb extended heavenward,
The flagbearer extends his hand through a window;
It greets mine in a quiet salute.
Two strangers sharing a mournful, yet proud kinship.
We pass each other and continue on our separate journeys,
nevertheless bound together by the numerals 9,11,01.

Encountering the Other in Jerusalem

For nearly a month my Hartman RLI cohort and I have been immersed in a sea of Jewish texts.  We focused on subjects of vital concern like Jewish peoplehood and Israel.  This week the focus of our attention was briefly diverted.  For one day we explored and encountered the other - we visited Christian holy space and studied with Christian religious leaders.

Our day began with a tiyyul (i.e. tour) to Ein Kerem.  This village within the city boundaries of Jerusalem has deep roots in our biblical tradition.  Today, however, it's more widely associated with Christianity and primarily because it's believed to be the birth place of the John the Baptist.  There are many churches in this tiny hamlet of 2,000 residents (many of them secular Israeli Jews) which attracts 3 million visitors a year.

A Typical Home in Ein Kerem . . . Large But Quaint With a Large Lot

A Greek Orthodox Church

We walked through the charming streets of Ein kerem and arrived at the Convent of the the Sisters of Our Lady of Zion.  The notion of a group touring a church, convent of monastery on a Sunday, the Christian Sabbath, is unheard of.  When the Sisters of Our Lady of Zion were told that a group of Rabbis was interested in visiting their convent they enthusiastically agreed to host us.  The order, which was founded in the 19th Century by a Catholic priest who had converted from Judaism, was once nortorious for its evangelizing of Jews.  In the wake of the Shoah the Sisters engaged in a rethinking of their theology and mission.  They became champions of ecumenism building bridges with the Jewish community.

Our guide was the leader of the Order in Ein Kerem; a soft spoken French nun who has lived in Israel for over forty years.  She took us on a tour of the convent's grounds and then invited us to refreshments.  Everything is kosher," she assured us, "the cups and plates are plastic, the bottles are unopened, and the fruit is uncut."  I was so touched by her thoughtfulness and sensitivity that I felt felt compelled to personally thank her for taking time out of her Sabbath to meet with us.  "Rabbi," the Reverend Mother replied, "sharing my Shabbat with all of you makes it that much more holy."

The Main Gate of the Convent of The Sisters of Zion

Our Guide . . . The Reverend Mother

The Convent Chapel

The Sisters' Living Quarters

The Vista from The Convent of the Sisters of Zion

Out tiyyul in Ein Kerem set the mood for what awaited us back at Machon Hartman.  We met with members of the Christian Leadership Initiative (Learn more about the CLI here: http://www.hartmaninstitute.com/SHINews_View.aspArticle_Id=770&Cat_Id=274&Cat_Type=SHINews).  After studying texts from Maimonides' Mishneh Torah and his responsa with members of the CLI we participated in a shiur with Rabbi Donniel Hartman, President of the SHI, related to the Rambam's radical halakhic paradigm shift vis-a-vis who is included in and excluded from the Jewish community.  It was fascinating to study texts from my tradition with religious leaders of another faith and eye opening to see how they reacted to the Rambam's definition of Jewish peoplehood.

Thanks Machon Hartman for another phenomenal experience!

The Hartman Institute's RLI Peer Roundtable: Rabbis Teaching Rabbis

One of the hallmarks of the Shalom Hartman Institute's Religious Leadership Initiative rabbininc fellowship program (RLI) is the peer led roundtable; a session in which each member of the RLI cohort teaches a text or presents a programmatic idea to his or her colleagues.  Regardless of the kind of rabbinate we've pursued - pulpit, formal education, Jewish camping, etc. - Rabbis are accustomed to teaching individuals of different ages and backgrounds.  The RLI roundtable is unique and special in that it enables us to teach our peers; a daunting, yet exhilarating endeavor.  It's one thing to teach a group of lay people and quite another to present a text or idea to a room full of colleagues who know as much if not more than you.

Today my colleague, Rabbi Jonathan Hecht, led a fascinating and compelling roundtable session on a subject of historical significance, and did it with aplomb.  He presented primary sources related to the Barcelona Disputation of 1263.  The debate took place between Dominican friar Pablo Christiani (a Jewish convert to Catholism) and Rabbi Moses ben Nachman (Nachmanides) and in the presence of King James I of Aragon.  Leading us through both Nachmanides' and the Latin written accounts of the disputation, Rabbi Hecht argued that a crititical turn had taken place; namely, the Church transitioned from burning rabbinic texts like the Talmud to using those texts to prove the validity and merit of Christianity in an attempt to convert Jews to the Christian faith.  Rabbi Hecht also held up Nachmanides as a dugma, an exemplar, of the courageous rabbinic leader who jeapordized his life by defending Judaism in a hostile polemical arena and later publishing his account to provide much needed moral support to an embattled and oppressed Jewish community.  He encouraged all of us to follow the Ramban's example of heroic religious leadership

As the roundtable came to a conclusion Rabbi Rachel Sabath Beit-Halachmi, the director of our RLI  program, asked us the key, overarching and crucial question: "What is today's disputation?"  I would argue that it's an internal one.  The parties involved are Jewish and the forum in which it takes place is within the Jewish community.  The disputation is about the very controversial issue of political discourse relating to the State of Israel.  I think Rabbi Sabath Beit-Halachmi's question was really a rhetorical one.  How can we as Jewish religious leaders help to engender a respectful and empathetic discourse that can heal our community and unite us rather than divide us over the one issue that has, up until this point, always kept our multi-denominational community together?

In the wake of the disputation Nachmanides had to flee Aragon and seek refuge in Eretz Israel.  He might have won the battle but in the end he personally lost the war.  We can ill afford a similar pyrrhic victory; one where a significant segment of the Jewish community feels as though it has been delegitimized and set apart.

Not Balabusta, Balabasta!

balabasta, noun (Hebrew) - literally "come to the mall,"  a centennial carnival.

Machane Yehudah, Jerusalem's large spawrling outdoor market, is celebrating its 100th anniversary this year. If you ever want to experience a wondrous mass of humanity the best day to visit the Machane Yehudah is Friday when much of the city descends on the market to buy provisions for Shabbat from pita to fresh fish to hummus and, of course, freshly baked rugelach from Marzipan.

A Sea of Humanity at an Entrance to Machane Yehudah 

I had thought that Friday at the market could never be outdone in terms of the number of people who are present.  Boy was I wrong.  Tonight my RLI colleagues and I joined members of the Hartman Institute's North American Scholars Circle (http://www.hartman.org.il/Programs_View.asp?Program_Id=26&Cat_Id=290&Cat_Type=Programs) for an excursion to to Machane Yehudah to experience Balabasta, - a carnival of sorts replete with street performances, concerts, giant puppets, DJs and bands - held every Monday evening in July to commerate and celebrate the shuk's centennial.  I was amazed to see the overwhelming mass of people who had converged to shop, but mostly to join in on the carnival like atmosphere.  

A Band Plays Atop the Stalls at Machane Yehudah

A Flower Clad Balabasta Dancer Entertains the Crowd

After shopping and watching the entertainment both on the street and above the market stalls my friends, Rabbis David Cohen and Alfredo Borodowski, and I had dinner at my favorite restaurant in Machane Yehudah, Okhlim Bashuk, a neighborhood establishment frequented first and foremost by Israelis.  Every day the resteraunt's menu changes.  You walk up to an array of 6-7 large pots and choose your entree, usually a selection of some of the most mouth-watering Yemenite quisine.  It's Israeli comfort food at its finest.

Dinner at Okhlim Bashuk, Yummy!

We then returned to one of the Shuk's main arteries for more balabasta, but the crush of humanity was so acute that we decided to leave and make our way to the relative quite of Ben Yehudah Street for some shopping, before finally walking home.  After an intense and full day of havruta and study at the Machon (today's subject was Hilkhot Melakhim: Foundations for Political Community) experiencing the balabasta at Machane Yehudah was the perfect way to end a great day.

You'll Never Believe Who I Saw Jaywalking

Emek Refaim, the bustling street that runs through the heart of Hamoshavah Hagermanit (Jerusalem's "German Colony") is known for it's many fine restaurants, bars, shops and traffic.  Yesterday as my friend, colleague and roommate, Rabbi David Cohen, and I were driving on Emek to pick a friend up in Talbiyah our car and the cars in front of us came to a standstill.  We were already ten minutes later to the rendezvous point and we thought we would be even more late because we had arrived at a long jam (By the way, Rabbi Cohen reminds me of a Grand Prix race driver; one who skillfully navigates Jerusalem's streets with dexterity and speed) and then I noticed that trademark white hat bobbing up and then down just enough to be seen above the parked cars on the side of the street.  I knew the person under that hat, it was former refusnick, former Knesset member and minister and now Jewish Agency head, Natan Sharansky.

"It's Sharansky," I said with a just a hint of excitement.   And then I witnessed the unbelievable.  Sharansky jaywalked in the middle of the block to an awaiting car across the street.  In Israel, and most especially in Jerusalem the only people jaywalk are Americans and other foreign nationals.  Occasionally you'll see an Israeli illegally cross the street in such fashion, but their numbers are small.  Jaywalking in Jerusalem can earn you a hefty fine.  While Rabbi Cohen was miffed by the fact that we were in a traffic jam I was aghast at the fact that Natan Sharansky was jaywalking with such utter abandon.  But hey, it's Israel and anything is possible.

Shabbat shalom!   

Visiting Rawabi, The First Planned Palestinian City

I felt good about seeing a Palestinian flag.  Actually there were many of them lining the road leading into Rawabi, the first planned Palestinian city in the West Bank.  Monday was tiyul day at Machon Hartman and I chose to spend the day visiting the West Bank, (a.k.a. Judea and Samaria, The Palestinian Territories, the Territories and Palestine).  The "field trip" began with Danny Seidman, a left of center advocate for  a two-state solution who also serves as sort of an unofficial advisor to Dennis Ross, President Obama's chief Middle east advisor.  We met with Danny at Highway 1, the seam or dividing line between East and West Jerusalem and then travelled with him to Sheikh Jarakh, the east Jerusalem neighborhood that has become a flash point between Jewish settlers and Palestinians residents.  Danny claimed that the settlers who have moved into this neighborhood pose a serious threat to a peaceful resolution for Palestinians and Israelis.

Danny Seidman Speak to Us at the Seamline

Visiting Sheikh Jarrakh

Our trip continued as we travelled to Beit Aryeh, a Jewish settlement in Area C (i.e. an area under both Israeli administrative and military authority) of Judea and Samaria.  We received an in-depth briefing from Danny Stern, a retired IDF Colonel who was the architect of the Security Barrier that separates the West Bank from Israel proper.  Col. Stern explained to us how he walked the full length of what would become the course of the Fence encountering all of the Palestinian villages and towns which would fall along its path, and shared with us the many challenges he faced in deciding where the fence should fall; the security needs versus the disruption of the lives of Palestinians who live near its route.  He also spoke to us from "Sharon's Balcony," the spot where former Prime Minister Ariel Sharon would take foreign leaders - like former President George W. Bush - to show them how vulnerable Israel's coastal plain is from the high ground of the West Bank.  From the Balcony we could see Ben Gurion Airport's runway just 20 short kilometers away.  Col. Stern's concern was obvious - there is a strategic threat to Israel's security vis-a-vis a future Palestinian state's control of the high ground that is so proximate to Israel's most populous cities.

Col. (Res.) Danny Stern Talks About the Challenges of Determining
the Route of the Security Barrier

We had met with two men named who share the same name, who both support a two-state solution, but who have two very different ways of arriving there.  

And then we travelled to the heart of will be that future Palestinian state.  Crossing Areas A and B we arrived at the entrance of Rawabi, described by it's developers as "Palestine's First Planned City."  Rawabi is located in Area A (i.e. Palestinian land under both Palestinian Authority administrative and military authority).  In order for us (and especially the Israelis who were a part of our group) to enter A we had to secure both the permission of the Israeli government and the Palestinian Authority. 

Inside the Rawabi Conference Room

We were escorted through a small Palestinian village to the Rawabi project site by a truck from Rawabi.  Our escort was meant as a gesture to the Palestinian villagers we passed that our Israeli bus posed no threat to them.

Grading and excavating at the Rawabi Site

Standing at Rawabi with Ramallah in the Background Behind My Right Shoulder (Photo Credit: Rabbi David Cohen)

When we entered the project site we were warmly welcomed by the Rawabi project managers.  They were articulate and impressive.  We were treated to a power-point presentation about the project and learned that Rawabi ("hills" in Arabic) was being developed as a mixed-use city for young, upwardly mobile, middle class Palestinians.  It will have apartments, office buildings, schools, parks, two mosques and a church, among the rest of the development's important municipal infrastructure (you can learn more about Rawabi at http://www.rawabi.ps/press_show.phpid=6&page=no).

While no Israeli citizens will ever live in this city because it is against Israeli law for any Israeli to live in Area A the connection between Israelis and this project are many.  The project itself relies on dozens of Israeli engineers and other contractors and building trades people who work on the site every day.  Over half of the construction materials that are used for the project are purchased from Israeli (excluding those produced from Israeli settlers) companies.  Our hosts, including Bashar Al-Masri, the Palestinian born American business man who is the mastermind and chief financial backer of the project, emphasized that they could have purchased building materials and relied on engineers and contractors from other countries, but that would have cut into their profit margin and also prevented the project from serving as an opportunity for Palestinian-Israeli economic cooperation.  It was quite clear that Mr. Al-Masri is a businessman who, like any businessperson, wants to make a profit, that he is a Palestinian nationalist, and someone who believes in living in peace with his Israeli neighbors.

For the first time many of the others in my group and I felt that we were seeing Palestinians working positively to build their state.  As unwavering Zionists we saw this building project and the spirit behind it and we recognized something familiar.  The question is, what steps will be taken to ensure that more Rawabis are developed so that that high ground of a future Palestinian state won't be used to reign down missiles on Tel Aviv, Ben Gurion, Haifa, Netanya and other Israeli towns and cities?

Images from Israel

It's been a phenomenal week in Jerusalem at the Shalom Hartman Institute.  The weather has been absolutely spectacular.  The daily temperatures have been in the mid 80's and the nights have been downright chilly; worthy of a light jacket.  The overarching theme of our summer session is "Jewish Peoplehood: The Meaning of the Collective in Modern Jewish Life".  Each and every day as I walk onto the Hartman Institute campus I feel like a child walking into a candy shop; our faculty are the best Judaic scholars in the world.  Everything I've learned from them has enriched my knowledge and provided me with material for dozens of sermons and classes.  

The Pomegranate (Rimonim) Tree that Rabbi David Cohen and I Walk Under on Our Way to The Hartman Institute

One highlight was studying this week with the director of my RLI (Religious Leadership Initiative) fellowship program.  Rabbi Rachel Sabath Beit-Halachmi, who was ordained by HUC-JIR and received her doctorate from JTS, taught a seminar entitled "Between God, Community and the Individual: Modern Jewish Thinkers on Religion and Religiosity".  She gave us a compelling and new read on Leo Baeck, Martin Buber and Mordecai Kaplan.

Last night I attended a very powerful and wonderful concert featuring secular Israeli musical artist, Kobi Oz.  Oz  's music - a blend of Ashkenazi and Sephardi musical motifs woven together with religious themes and librettos - best exemplifies the growing trend in Israel of secular musicians using religious themes and imagery to comment on the major issues facing Israeli society.

Kobi Oz Performing in Liberty Bell Park in Jerusalem

Today (Friday) saw a dramatic change in the weather.  The mercury hit an easy 100 degrees and the forecast call for the same weather for Shabbat.  I walked with my friend and colleague, Rabbi Eric Gurvis to the Museum of the Seam which is located on what was the seamiline between east and west Jerusalem before and up to 1967.  The museum is located in Beit Tiurjeman, the forward position of the Israeli Army during the Six Day War.  The museum's mission is to promote tolerance and pluralism between Israel and Palestinian, secular and Haredi.  Rabbi Gurvis and I walked through the museum's current exhibit which explores the issue of war and violence.  It was both provocative and fascinating.

Museum on the Seam

We then walked to Mahane Yehudah for some pre-Shabbat shopping and lunch.  The shuk was buslting with people and activity.  There's nothing like buying freshly baked pita, hummus, fruits and nuts (no pun intended for MJDS families!) in Mahane Yehudah!

Mahane Yehudah on Friday

Shabbat shalom from Jeusalem!

Only in Israel!

I don't know why I bothered to set my alarm last night.  This morning I was awakened at 5:30 am by the guy who picked all the recycleables that are collected on the street.  I swear, I heard each and every bottle and can hit the bottom of his truck.  My day had begun!

It continued with a wonderful surprise.  As I was walking down my street I heard a voice, "Rabbi Herber, Rabbi Herber!"  I backed up, looked up at the window of a second floor apartment and saw a familiar face.  It belonged to Uri Ish-Shalom, a young man who had been a member of my synagogue, Congregation Beth Israel.  Uri and his family had returned to live in Israel (Uri's father, Oded, is a native Israeli).  I had officiated at Uri's Bar Mitzvah and his confirmation, and just a few weeks agao had seen him in Milwaukee. I thought that the Ish-Shalom family was living in the Jerusalem neighborhood of Talpiyot.  Little did I know that they were living down the street from me.  I spent a few minutes catching up with Uri in their apartment and then was off to Machon Hartman, looking forward to seeing the rest of the family during my stay.

I had just experienced a wonderful, "only in Israel" moment, one that more than trumped that annoying moment when I woke up.

Boker Tov From Israel!

It's Sunday morning here and I'm blogging from my Baka apartment while drinking an expertly made cafe afukh (purchased from a neighborhood cafe bearing the same name) and a delicious freshly baked chocolate rugelach.  On the way to the cafe I had the pleasure of running into Judy Werlin who was on a walk with a friend from Chicago.   Judy and Steve are also spending the month in Jerusalem.  They're living in nearby Talpiyot. 

Many of you know that I've returned to Jerusalem for the month of July to begin my second summer session of the Shalom Hartman Institute's Religious Leadership Initiative, an intense, three-year rabbinic fellowship program.  Joining me is my friend and colleague, Rabbi David Cohen, Temple Sinai's spiritual leader.  Rabbi Cohen is in my RLI cohort and is my hevruta partner during the course of the year when we study with our Hartman faculty via weekly distance learning.  Rabbi Cohen and I are sharing an apartment in this vibrant southern Jerusalem neighborhood sandwhiched between the German Colony to the north, Arnona to the south, Talpiyot to the east and the Greek Colony to the west.  Our apartment is literraly around the corner of the offices of Tenuat Masorti, the headquarters of the Masorti/Conservative Movement in Israel.  I'm hoping to drop by to visit with Rakefet Ginsberg, our former sh'liha, who works for the Masorti Movement.

Getting here was a bit of a challenge.  My US Airways plane sat at the gate for about an hour as maintenance crew worked to fix a blown circuit breaker.  We then had to wait in a very long line for takeoff because Air Force One was given departure priority (I guess being President of the United States does have its benefits).  By the time I arrived in Jerusalem the city was in shutdown mode as Shabbat was fast approaching.  

After unpacking and taking a very quick shower I walked 30 mins to Shira Hadasha, the feminist Orthodox minyan in the German Colony founded by Tova Hartman, Rabbi David Hartman's daughter.  Shira Hadasha is the closest thing you'll find to an egalitarian minyan in the Orthodox world.  While it utilizes a mehitza, men and women lead the davening, chant from and are called to the Torah.  The music of the service is spiritually moving; a blend of Carlebach,  traditional Orthodox and Camp Ramah.  What's more, everyone present knows the melodies and sings along.  It makes for an incredible davening experience.  

As I made my way to what was one of the few empty seats in the packed room I sat down and looked around to see if I knew anyone.  In front of me was my teacher Dr. Ismar Schorsch, Chancellor Ermeritus of the Jewish Theological Seminary of America, behind me was Rabbi Joel Myers, Emeritus Executive Vice-President of the Rabbinical Assembly and throughout the congregation were five or six other Conservative colleagues of mine.  Sitting just to my left was Steve Werlin.  By the time I had gotten to services the minyan had already completed Kabbalat Shabbat and was in the midst of Ma'ariv.  When I explained to Steve about my flight delay he said he knew something must have happened because he had expected to see me much earlier.  It's the first and I sure the only time that Steve Werlin will ever get to services before me!

After attending Shabbat morning services at Shira Hadasha I returned to my apartment for a quick Shabbat lunch and a much needed Shabbat shluf.  Later in the day I went on an hour long walk.  I wasn't alone.  Everyone was out walking - families, couples, groups of young people - enjoying the glorious, sunny day filled with a cool breeze from the west.  The rest of the day and evening was spent reading and preparing for the start of the summer session.  The summer session is entitled, Jewish Peoplehood: The Meaning of the Collective in Modern Jewish Life.  I'll give you just a sampling of some of the shiurim (lectures) I'll be taking:  Jewish People - What's at Stake with Rabbi Donniel Hartman, Halakhah and the Challenges of Peoplehood with Dr. Micah Goodman, Hilkhot Melakhim: Foundations for Political Community with Menachem Lorberbaum, and The God Who Hates Lies with Rabbi David Hartman.  A week from today I'll be leading a round table where I'll be teaching my colleagues and leading a follow-up discussion.  The title of my shiur is A Case of Mistaken Identity:  The Surprise Encounter Between Rabbi Yohanan and Resh Lakish.  You can read all about this fascinating talmudic story in Tractate Bava Metzia 84a. 

Well I've finished my cappuccino (cafe hafukh in Hebrew) and managed to consume three rugelach during the course of writing this post which means I need to walk off my rather indulgent breakfast.  I look forward to keeping all of you posted on my experiences at Hartman and in Israel.

L'hitraot!

Shame on the New York Times

The New York Times publsihed and edotirial excoriating CUNY for refusing to award playright Tony Kushner with an honorary degree.  Mr. Kushner has accused the State of Israel of many things, chief among engaging in the ethinic-cleansing of Palestinians.  A member of the CUNY Board of Trustees, Jeffrey Wiesenfeld, led the campaign to withhold the degree from Kushner; claiming that Kushner's accusation crossed a red-line.  It should be noted that In the past he has voted in favor of awarding honorary degrees to individuals who have voiced criticsm of Israeli policies.

If the NY Times editorial board had any intellectual integrity it would censure both Kushner and Wiesenfeld. This editorial is the exemplar of hypocrisy. It calls Kushner's comments "not all that remarkable" and under the purview of "free speech and free thought" and demands that Wiesenfeld resign for expressing his thought which were not gategorical in nature. Would anyone of us not say that people who wish death for their children aren't human? The terrorists (and parents) who idoctrinate their children with hate and encourage them to strap explosive belts around their waists or engage in other forms of terror aren't human.  

The standard should be support and protection for free speech and academic freedom for all. The New York Times has a different standard: freedom of expression only applies if you articulate beliefs and opinions with which we agree.  Shame on them.

Our Innocence, Their Guilt

I give Robert Klitzman a lot of credit for sharing his grief with a worldwide audience, but then he turns to a political critique at the end of his New York Times op-ed piece and loses me when he states:

"When the members of Al Qaeda attacked on 9/11, Americans wondered, “Why do they hate us so much?” Many here believe they dislike us for our “freedom,” but I think otherwise.

There are lessons we have not yet learned. I feel Karen would share my concerns that underlying forces of greed and hate persevere. American imperialism, corporate avarice, abuses of our power abroad and our historical support of corrupt dictators like Hosni Mubarak have created an abhorrence of us that, unfortunately, persists. We need to recognize how the rest of the world sees us, and figure out how to change that. Until we do that, more Osama bin Ladens will arise, and more innocent people like my sister will die." (You can read the entire piece (http://www.nytimes.com/2011/05/04/opinion/04klitzman.html?ref=opinion)

Yes, Robert, they hate us; they hate anyone who doesn't submit to their brand of Islam. Al Qaeda has killed as many if not more Muslims as it has non-Muslim Americans. As an American and a Jew (a favorite target of Al Qaeda and other Muslim terrorists) I agree for the need for self-reflection and critique (greed, avarice and other vices are certainly a part of American society which we need to confront), but we, the victims, are not responsible for the crime that was committed against us. Osama bin Ladin and Al Qaeda are (were) evil. We are not. They are Islamic imperialists who will continue to seek to kill, maim, and dominate Muslim and non-Muslims alike. They are the guilty ones, the perpetrators, and they must be defeated!

The Obligation to Confront and Destroy Evil

"Jesus may have overturned the tables of the moneychangers in the Temple, but he never brought an army into Jerusalem."  That's how the woman sitting to my left responded to my attempt to explain how translating from one language to another is in and of itself a form of interpretation.  

In the case at hand, I was pointing out during my presentation this past Sunday evening on Judaism and Jewish belief at the First Congregational Church of Port Washington that the commandment "Lo tirtzah" which is commonly and mistakenly translated into english as "You shall not kill" really means in the original Hebrew "You shall not murder." (JPS)  Rev. Jeff Suddendorf, First Congregational's minister and my friend, pointed out with Bible in hand that the Newly Revised Standard Version is in fact faithful to the Hebrew and translates the prohibition as "You shall not murder."  I was delighted to point out to the laughter of those present that my Christian brothers and sisters had finally gotten it right!

That's when the rather serious looking woman to my left raised her hand and launched into a diatribe against the taking of life in any form and specifically the intervention in Libya.  It was at that moment that I realized I was dealing with a person who had an agenda and was waiting for that moment to interject her agenda regardless of the fact that it was at best tangential to the subject at hand.  My interlocutor it turned out was a retired Lutheran minister who failed to even flinch when I calmly responded to her assertion that killing in any way, shape or form is a sin by stating that Judaism values life above all else and that our tradition proclaims that to save one life is to save the whole world.  I went on to point out that Judaism seeks only a world without war and filled with peace, but it is not a religion of pacifism.  "There are times" I said, "when Judaism requires us to use force and, regrettably, to take life.  We are permitted to kill someone in self-defence."  I looked at the minister and said, "If you stand behind a tree with a knife and ambush me to kill me, my religion says that I have every right to defend myself even to the point of killing you."  Jewish law also permits us to take the life of another if they are pursuing ( in Hebrew a rodef) someone with the intent to commit murder.  

I closed my response by saying that I supported the foreign intervention in Libya because it exemplified the appropriate use of force against a dictator and evil man who had intentionally and willfully attacked and killed his own civilian population.  "Judaism," I said, "is a religion which seeks its followers to aspire to noble ideas and holy living, but it is also a realistic faith which recognizes that the world cannot be sustained and that noble ideals and holy living cannot be tenable if evil and injustice are left unchecked."  It was validating to see members of the audience politely clapping in silence in response to what I had said (if it had been a Jewish group they would no doubt had applauded with gusto!)

I thought of that unexpected exchange with Lutheran minister who, it turned out, is known for her very vocal and public pacifism, when I learned today of the bombing that took place on a crowded Jerusalem  bus.  I wondered, "Would my friend, the Lutheran minister, object to an Israeli police officer, soldier or civilian taking the life of the bomber before he could detonate himself and maim and kill innocent people?"  I get the feeling that with a misplaced and naive integrity she would say that the actions of the bomber and the person who would kill him in order to stop him would be guilty of committing the same sin.  I would say, the bomber is evil and must be stopped, the one who takes the bomber's life is a hero and should be admired for risking his life for the sake of others, and the victory of good over evil is that much more closer to attainment. 

Does Conservative Judaism Have a Future?

I don't know Rabbi Dana Evan Kaplan, but I like the way he thinks.

Rabbi Kaplan recently wrote a compelling and thought-provoking column about the challenges facing his movement, American Reform Judaism (you can read his column in its entirety at http://www.forward.com/articles/135476/#ixzz1EVN06X92).  Last July my RLI colleagues and I were sitting around our Friday night Shabbat tables at the Shalom Hartman Institute waiting for Kiddush to be recited.  One of my Reform colleagues shouted at me, "Jacob, we're the movement that's kicking your movement's butt!"  I don't quite recall what prompted the epithet that was said in jest.  I do remember every one laughing at my challenge to him to "step outside."  Implicit in my colleague’s comment was the contention that the Reform movement is in its ascent at the expense of a Conservative movement that is in its sharp descent.

Rabbi Kaplan argues that the days of such triumphalism in the Reform movement are over; Reform Judaism is facing a significant challenge to its survival as a viable, liberal Jewish stream.  The challenge, he claims, isn't related to structure (e.g. the efficient management of movement institutions like the Union for Reform Judaism) but rather theology.  It’s Reform Judaism’s theological principal of autonomy, or more specifically the movement’s extreme application of autonomy [my paraphrase] that’s jeopardizing Reform Judaism’s future.  The most prescient point of Rabbi Kaplan’s essay is found near its conclusion:

“One might think that most people would prefer a congregation that allows each member to find his or her own comfort level rather than one that requires all sorts of obligations, theological as well as ritualistic. That is not necessarily true.

Yes, many potential members are deterred by high upfront demands. But for those who join, the commitment is much greater. Since most of the members in a demanding congregation are deeply committed and religiously active, the collective religious experience is much more fulfilling. . . .There is a devil’s bargain being made between an often self-satisfied leadership and a mostly apathetic laity. Many Reform synagogues have large numbers on the books but few active participants. This unhealthy situation cannot continue indefinitely. We are now seeing the consequences of the benign neglect that has been plaguing Reform Judaism for many years.”

I’m sure that Rabbi Kaplan will have both his supporters and detractors.  Some will claim that he is right on the mark, others will accuse him of heresy, of betraying Reform Judaism’s big tent approach to Jewish life in North America.  As a Conservative Rabbi I’m not qualified to speak for what’s best for the Reform Movement, nor would it be appropriate for me to do so.  I do, however, believe that Rabbi Kaplan’s cogent argument is applicable to the movement to which I have dedicated my life to perpetuating and serving – Conservative Judaism.

As a liberal, non-Orthodox Jewish stream Conservative Judaism runs the risk of seeking to remain relevant by positioning itself as a slightly more traditional version of Reform.  This approach is an affront to both movements.  I value Reform Judaism as a valid, legitimate path for those Jews who are intellectually unwilling to subscribe to a halakhic expression of Judaism, and I deeply respect and admire my Reform colleagues for their service to God and the Jewish people. 

Any attempt to make Conservative Judaism appear to be like Reform Judaism would undercut the raison d’être of the Conservative movement; the idea that Conservative Judaism best exemplifies a classical rabbinic expression of Judaism, a Judaism which embraces both halakha and modernity.

Rabbi Kaplan’s message should also resonate with those of us affiliated with the Conservative movement. If we want to stem the flight of Conservative Judaism’s “best and brightest” to Modern Orthodoxy – Conservative Jews who grew up in the movement (i.e. those who raised in Conservative synagogues, were active in USY, attended Camp Ramah, and were involved in KOACH on college campus) and are Conservative in terms of their theology but look to the Orthodox world for a like-minded observant community – we need to challenge our congregants to aspire to live by the core values that define what it means to be a Conservative Jew.  

We do have standards and practices that define who we are and we shouldn't be embarrassed or feel the need to apologize for that.  Fair minded and thoughtful people respect and are more likely to affiliate or remain with a group that they perceive has ethical and intellectual integrity.  There is truth to the notion that a congregation or a movement that demands and expects creates more committed and invested members. If Conservative Judaism competes for “market share” by adopting a theological approach that in essence says, “We can be everything to everyone” will we tragically become “nothing to no one.”  If that happens we don't deserve to survive.




Getting Older Has Its Benefits

I'm was feeling old, really old . . .

In just four days I turn 48, just two years shy of 50.  I know, I know, "80 is the new 50."  Which means "50 is the new 18."  But I don't feel it: my body takes longer to recover from the intense physical workouts I perform on my bike, I seem to sleep fewer and fewer hours each night, and my hair is getting more thin and more grey.  I'm not much into celebrating birthdays, and this year I was beginning to feel even less so.

No, I'm not experiencing a mid-life crisis.  That's not supposed to happen until I hit that magic number 80.  I'm just beginning to take stock of my life; thinking about what I want to accomplish personally and professionally with the years I have left.  I'm also realizing that there are some wonderful benefits that come with growing older.  First and foremost there is the the gratification that comes from watching your childen grow older as well guided by the values you hold dear, and sharing the same experiences you yourself have come to cherish.

My daughter is currently visiting Israel for the very first time with her 8th grade Jewish day school class.   I've been to Israel close to 30 times and I'd always wanted to accompany her on her first trip but it just wasn't meant to be.  That's o.k. I've been savoring every moment of our daily chats (she just called to wish us a Shabbat shalom from Tel Aviv).  Hearing the excitement in her voice about her visit to Machane Yehuda, about eating a felafel at Moshiko's and climbing up on a Merkava tank at Latrun (the museum and memorial to Israel's armored division) has given me an unquantifiable amount of joy.  In short, watching my daughter fall in love with Israel has made getting older for me a tremendous b'rakha (blessing).   I now look forward to aging, to seeing my son walk on the same streets of Israel that I've walked and his older sister has tread, and watching both of my children living their Judaism and Zionism with passion.   Yes, getting older does have its benefits.

Is a Middle East Without Hosni Mubarek Good for Israel?

"Rabbi, what was it like to be in Israel during the protests in Egypt?"  I've been asked this question more than any other since I returned recently from Israel.  People are sincerely curious about how the tumult in Cairo, Alexandria and other major Egyptian cities was/is being viewed in Israel.

My answer has been and remains the same.  Israelis are deeply concerned about the unrest in Egypt.  At no time did I or anyone I talked with during my recent visit feel in any way endangered.  We walked the streets, shopped and dined with a sense of absolute peace and security.  That being said, Many Israelis were certainly glued to their televisions following the ever evolving situation in Tahrir Square.  News programs were filled with the commentary and analyses of Israel's top political experts.  And for the most part, those experts all shared the same concerns: how will the unrest impact Egyptian-Israeli bi-lateral relations?  If Hosni Mubarek falls will Israel's cold peace with Egypt come to an end?  Will an Egyptian government headed by the Muslim Brotherhood pose a grave threat on Israel's southern border?  Will Israel be able to find any friends in the Middle East now that Turkey and Egypt seem lost?

These are all serious and very real concerns, and they're held by average Israelis, not just by the foreign policy experts.  They also appear to be shared by the U.S. State Department and the Obama Administration.   They don't seem, however, to be shared by folks like Nicholas Kristoff and Thomas Friedman, both columnists for The New York Times.  Both have hailed the protests in Egypt as a harbinger of democracy in a long-standing autocratic state.  Kristoff has been so effusive in his admiration for those gathered in Tahrir Squar that he exclaimed in a recent column, "We are all Egyptians" (www.nytimes.com/2011/02/04/opinion/04kristof.html?_r=1&ref=nicholasdkristof).  I don't ever recall Kristoff claiming that "We are all Israelis" during the many years when Israel was the target of suicide bombers and katusha rockets, but that's another sermon.  Neither Friedman nor Kristoff have any real apprehension of an Islamist hijacking of the movement to oust Mubarek and replace his corrupt and oppressive government.  

I wish I could join these two venerable journalists in their naive political analysis.  The fact is the Muslim Brotherhood is a shrewd and politically adept organization; one which ably survived decades of suppression by the Mubarek government.  It knows that in its neighborhood it can say one thing while actually doing another.  I seriously doubt that the Muslim Brotherhood has jettisoned its hardline Islamist platform or its hatred of Israel.  If the Muslim Brotherhood successfully seizes control by taking advantage of Egypt's transition to "democracy" the consequences will be dire for the Jewish State.  With the exception of its eastern border Israel would be surrounded by hostile enemies bent on its destruction.  

As the facts on the ground in Egypt change with each and every minute we will soon know if Egypt will join Israel as the only other truly democratic nation in the Middle East or if it will pose an existential threat to that only democracy.

Planes, Trains and Automobiles

Good morning from Newark International Airport! 

I’m back in the States after an absolutely tremendous week of study at the Shalom Hartman Institute.  The theme of the RLI (Religious Leadership Initiative) winter session was focused on ethics.  Sessions ran the gamut from “The Ethics of Shabbat” to “The Ethics of Purim.”  My teachers were exceptional as always.  It’s such an honor to study with scholars who are at the forefront of Jewish learning.  I never thought that my educational experience at JTS would ever be eclipsed.  I was wrong.  Each time I study at Hartman I appreciate how lucky and fortunate I am to be exposed to the cutting edge scholarship which has made the Institute famous throughout the Jewish world. 

I also walked away from the winter retreat enriched by the experience of studying with my rabbinic colleagues b’havruta (in small groups prior to a teacher’s shiur (lecture), sharing ideas with them as well as learning something new and innovative from each of them.  This winter I finally had the opportunity to study with my friend and colleague, Rabbi David Cohen.  During the year Rabbi Cohen is my designated havruta partner.  We study together in preparation for our weekly Hartman distance learning sessions.  Last July Rabbi Cohen was completing his studies at the Institute for Jewish Spirituality, which prevented him from joining our RLI cohort for the beginning of the program.  It was so great to finally study with him in Jerusalem, to walk its sidewalks with him, and to hang on for dear life as he drove on its streets!  I’d even go out on a limb and say that the “trains, planes and automobiles” journey we shared to get back to Milwaukee (we’re actually still in process) in the wake of the blizzard that struck the east coast and Midwest in the last two days has been blast; although I wouldn’t want to do it again.  I’m really blessed to have such an exceptional colleague with which to share my Hartman RLI experience.  Learning and collaborating together is good for the two of us, for our respective congregations and for the Milwaukee Jewish community.

In four short months we’ll both be back at Machon Hartman for our July seminar.  I’m looking forward again to studying at the “Harvard University of the Jewish world” in the Jewish world’s holiest city, Jerusalem!

What a Country!

Today I am 6,000 miles from where I was yesterday, and just in terms of geography.

I landed in Israel early this morning.  I'm here to attend the winter session of the Hartman Institute's RLI (Religious Leaders Institute) winter seminar and I'm very excited.  As a Senior Rabbinic Fellow at Hartman I get to study with some the best Judaic scholars in the world: David and Donniel Hartman, Micha Goodman, Alick Isaacs, Menachem, Moshe Idel, Moshe Halberthal, Menachem Lorberbaum, Melila Hellner-Esed, et al.  I can't wait!

I arrived a couple of days early so that I would have sufficient time to deal with the all too common effects of jet lag.  Last June I found myself dosing off in class at the start of the session.  We were studying the Zohar, it was very hot, and I was still on Milwaukee time.  And sitting next to the teacher didn't help.  The class was being video taped and I was doing everything short of snoring.  It would have been even more embarrassing had not most of my colleagues also been in the same situation.

My foresight has saved me this time.  I had a 4:00 am wake-up call so that I could make it to Chicago O'Hare from my hotel in time to catch a 6:00 am plane to Newark where I would connect with my 1:15 pm EL AL flight.  By the time I arrived at Ben Gurion this morning at 7:00 am I was exhausted.  Taking a sleeping pill helped, but I only slept for three hours.  I knew during my cab ride to Jerusalem that I had to do everything possible to stay awake and reset my internal clock.  I would go to sleep according to Israel time because if I didn't . . . most of you who have travelled internationally know the consequences.

So, I checked into the hotel, unpacked and went for a walk, a long walk, and in the process I did what I always do when I walked the streets of Jerusalem, I fell back in love with the city.  I put together a list of chores: exchange dollars for shekels, buy a universal converter (I forgot mine at home), eat lunch, and walk to stay awake.  I made my way to the Midrekhov (the pedestrian mall downtown) and accomplished goals one and two.  I could have gotten a shwarma at one of my favorite shwarma stands, Moshiko's, but after eating three heavy meals on the plane which were still embedded in my stomach I opted to walk still further to Mahane Yehuda (Jerusalem's large, open air market) for a felafel.  And I knew I would get it at Achim Levi's, the best felafel stand in the city.

But as soon as I had walked two blocks I noticed a dramatic change to the city's downtown landscape; Jaffa Road, a major artery which runs through downtown was now closed not only to cars, but buses as well.  For several years, more than Jerusalemites would like to count, the street has been torn up and perennially under construction for the laying of tracks which would serve as the foundation for the city's new light rail system.  Finally the construction was over!  As I crossed the street I saw a brand new, sleek light rail train approaching.  It was not in service; filled with transit workers for a trail run.  Watching that train come to a stop at a passenger platform right next to me was exhilarating!  I pulled out my Blackberry and snapped a photo (as soon as I get home I'll add that photo to this post).  Wow!  Jerusalem now has a modern light rail system, something we in Milwaukee could really use.

I eventually reached Mahane Yehuda. How could I miss the beehive of human activity.  It was packed as usual.  Vendors were hawking their produce and merchandise.  Staples like olives, dates, fish, eggs, breads, cheeses and halvah were impeccably placed on their table.  And then it was there,  Felafel Achim Levi, the market's famous, almost revered felafel stand.  I stood on line waiting to order (New Yorkers never stand "in line," we stand "on line") when the expected happened.  A woman walked up from behind me and stood in front of me.  She looked at me, I looked at her, and we laughed; collaborators in an all-too common Israeli phenomenon: rude behavior.  neither of would budge (at least I didn't let on that I would have relented).  Our game of chicken was finally resolved by the proprietor.  When my nemesis stepped forward to order he chided her, "He was here before you."  At in seem-less fashion he turned from her and directed his attention to me.  It was a beautiful moment of vindication and justice!

I stepped up to the counter and said, "Lafa, bevakasha."  I couldn't believe the words I had just uttered.  I asked for a giant, monster felafel comprised of 5 felafel balls instead of the usual 3; wrapped in an enormous flat pita instead of the half pita shell with which most are familiar.  But I was giddy over my moral victory and my euphoria had gotten the better of me.  "Harif?" - Spicy, hot sauce? - asked the owner.  "Ken, aval k'tzat," - Yes, but just a little, I said.  I was crazy, but not stupid!  "Salat, hummus, chips?" - Salad, hummus, french fries?  He further queried.  "Ken, b'vakaha," - Yes, please, I responded.  "Metzuyan." - Excellent, he approvingly said.  It was then that I knew that I was really in Israel.  It was a typical, archetypal Israeli comment and moment.
And I thought of that line made famous in the '80s by the Russian born American Jewish comic, "What a country!"

Yes, I did end up paying dearly for my indulgence with a whopper of a stomach ache.  But it was more than worth it; a forschbeis of what I hope will be more delicious and memorable culinary experiences and study of Torah.  So stay tuned for more posts to follow . . .