A little nostalgia; a taste of Armageddon

I only moved here 3 months ago, so I don't have much to compare it to-- is this place always crazy?!?!

 

With everything else we are dealing with here, whodda thunk we'd experience the most massive forest fire in the country's history?  And whodda thunk that Rav Ovadia Yosef would attribute it to people not lighting Shabbat candles?  (OK, maybe that one could have been predicted...)  Then we get a warning of a massive storm (A "sufa," which I know from my college Hebrew production of The Wizard of Oz means a tornado, but it turns out that it can just mean a very windy storm), so we prepare the balcony and unplug the computers (as advised), but last night, it literally felt like Armageddon.  Not that Armageddon would wake me (anyone out there remember when I was fired from my volunteer duty as fire captain of my suite in college because the fire alarms never woke me?), but it woke my daughter, apparently because the light went out in her room, so we were without power at I have no idea what hour in the morning (it was after 3:00, because our dishwasher, which was set to go off at 1:00, ran properly-- our little "Shabbes miracle") and we lay there listening to the howling outside and waiting for the roof to blow off or the whole house to get thrown.  It was SOOOO LOUD!!!  I stepped outside to see what it felt like.  It wasn't cold and there was no rain.  I don't even think the sky was particularly cloudy.  But I came back in for fear of being blown away (it was mostly Tali's fear.  I actually loved the feel of it).  At some point Tali was so hysterical that Ross woke enough to point out the thing about it not being a tornado. 

 

We woke up without power, to discover that we were the only house on the kibbutz who lost it (our downstairs neighbors lost it too).  Then today was howling winds and intermittent downpours.  I could say that that made me nostalgic about Vancouver, but I hadn't thought of that until friends pointed it out-- the friends who let us heat our food on their warming tray.  The nostalgia was more about the power loss.  In Baltimore, we would lose power whenever someone sneezed too hard.  And of course there was the unforgettable night when our whole little BT ghetto (the 4 BT houses at the end of the block) lost power in the second massive snow storm in a row and we gathered in the Dennens kitchen because she was the one with the gas stove (we have a gas stove now!!!).  And Brandon, a maintenance guy who they asked to sleep overnight at the school in  case a pipe broke like it had in the last storm, knowing that the news was predicting that the city would be immomilized by the morning and he would be trapped, joined us for soup, fried potatoes and monopoly.  We had that same feeling of, this time the power will go out and no one will be able to get here to fix it.  Indeed, we had no idea how it works here.  Would we call an electric company who would drive all the way up the mountain?  Would they do that in the storm?  And we still had Shabbat to get through first.  But just before Shabbat was over, I ran into the guy who does electric stuff here (like he installed our A/C and fixed our Shababt clock) told us he would take care of it, but he said it with a shrug, saying that of course he couldn't climb the pole in the storm.  And the storm is supposed to last till Monday!!!  So we went to shul for Havdallah, came home, I started heating soup on our GAS STOVE, and before it was warm, the lights came on.  Bless that guy's heart!

 

Things had been so politically and religiously volatile since we got here, but suddenly it was all very visceral.  In uncertain times such as these, they say we are supposed to look inward (do heshbon nefesh), but the Rabbinic establishment is saying the problem is that people aren't lighting Shabbat candles, and the other rabbis are saying it's because the Rabbinic establishment is so obsessed with Shabbat candles, and more to the point, with deligitimating conversions and failing to solve the agunah crisis and declaring it's forbidden to sell homes to non-Jews.   Rav Yoel Bin-Nun just wrote a scathing article against the Rabbis, starting with attacking them for not taking a more proactive role regarding the fire, but moving on to slam their for their inability to handle the conversion crisis or to solve the agunah crisis (pointing out that Rav Ovadia Yosef was able to halachically "free" the wives of a whole submarine-ful of people (the Dakkar) who sunk and whose deaths couldn't be confirmed).  He claimed that the Rabbis have been irrelevant to the people since they failed to council people to get out of Europe as fast as possible before the Holocaust.  He praised Netanyahu for his handling of the fire crisis, and his mobilizing of the international community, and said that we must make our decisions with the democratic people, because the rabbis have proven themselves untrustworthy and ineffectual.  (If I misrepresented any of what he said, please feel free to correct me and I'll pass it along to the group, but I'm pretty sure that's the gist.  I do wish everyone would stop writing everything in Hebrew around here, though...).  Is the Rabbinic establishment going to collapse?  I mean, I can't see how it could go on much longer like this, but it feels like it's around the corner.  But I suppose it may have felt this way years ago with other issues.  What do I know?

 

In other news, I went with Adin to his little parasha (Torah) class for 5-6 year olds this morning, and the dad (it rotates people's houses) was reviewing with them the story of Joseph, and he got to the part where they throw him in a pit, and one girl called out "but he didn't die!" and the father pedagogically repeated her statement back, "Really?  He didn't die?" and she responded, "At least not in the movie!"

 

With that little word of Torah, I will conclude here, and wish everyone a terrific week, full of health, happiness, and meaning.

 

Love,

 

Em

Hanukah Tiyul

Hi again,

As we were preparing Sunday for our 2 day trip to the Negev with friends (the Richters), the fire was blazing in the Carmel, and there were reports of rain on Monday. I was cleaning off the balcony in anticipation of the rain. There was some laundry that was still damp. I was faced with a philosophical dilemma-- do I make sure to bring everything in to show, like Honi HaMeagel, that I have faith that the rain will come, and be substantial enough that my laundry could get ruined, or do I leave some out, to show my understanding of Murphy's Law, that it will rain if (and only if) there is laundry out to get ruined. This would of course result in moldy laundry, but for the greater good of rain in the region. Already feeling guilty for my part in the fire (I had told you guys that rain is not as serious an issue today as it once was, and the next day the fire broke out. It would not have happened, or would not have spread as quickly and devastatingly as it did if there had been rain), I decided to leave out the laundry, and off we went. (Does anyone think I am a little narcissistic here, taking personal credit and responsibility for the climate of the region?)

We slept Sunday night at the Richters (they live near Jerusalem) so we could get an early start down south the next morning. When we woke up, there were reports of heavy rain in the north and center of the country, and the sky was covered with clouds and the air around thick with fog. It felf like the fog itself could put out fires. In the meantime, we were packing up the cars for the trip. We were headed south, where no rain was predicted. The Richters had a full car, and needed to tie three duffels onto their roof. We were worried they would get soaked, but Tzvi thought (hoped) that if we got started early enough, we could get out before the rain, and make it in time to dry territory. As they were busy strapping the bags "securely" (more on that later) to the roof, the heavens opened up, angels started singing, and rain gushed down on the duffels. Undeterred, we hopped in our cars, and drove to a hardware store, where we bought a tarp to keep the rest of the bags dry (or perhaps more accurately, to seal in the moisture from the rain, but we didn't know that then, and we were hoping...).

We followed them down south, for an anticipated hour and a quarter drive to Beer Sheva, stopping periodically to "resecure" the bags that kept slipping off the roof. Along the way, I said to Ross, "Do you really think the weather will be so different only an hour and a quarter from here?" He said that oh yes, it is a totally different terrain and climate. This is the mountains, and that will be desert. I asked again when we were ten minutes from our destination, and not yet dry. Sure enough, the rain had reached Beer Sheva (though it stopped amazingly for us to get out and tour a really amazing memorial site




and the Air Force Museum). The museum has a collection of many of the planes used by the airforce over the years. Some of them are set up so you can climb inside. They have a little "cadets course) for the kids, where they go through training, such as learning the Air Force chant. I had a hard time picturing real 18-22 year old men flapping their arms in the air as they screamed their chant about flying for the Air Force, but I'm sure that is how they really do it. They wouldn't make stuff up for the 5 year olds, would they? Adin loved it!

The highlight of the museum for the kids was a room where they had playstation flight simulators. There was a game you could play in which you were presumably trying to shoot down an enemy plane. The kids were glued to the game for an hour, until we had to rip them away, despite the fact that no one had the foggiest idea how to play (except maybe Ross, who had what I would call a very foggy idea of how to play). It was amazing to me how the kids were so excited to sit in front of a screen and push buttons and maneuver joysticks, even if they had no idea what they were supposed to with them. We could barely remove the 6 year olds from the screen, even though all they were doing was smashing plane after plane head first into the ground. (Is this our future?)

Anyway, that night we went camping in a Beduin tent. That was an amazing experience. When we got there the owner had started a fire and prepared for us a delicious sweet sage tea that the kids loved. He showed us some of his camels, and told us about the amazing healing properties of camel milk (which unfortunately is not kosher). Apparently, it contains insulin, which is good for diabetics, and something else against cancer. He told us about the lives of the Beduins, who he said are very different than our other Arab neighbors. He explained that they are not interested in government or leadership or autonomy. They just want the freedom to live their lives peacefully and run their businesses (which for him is camel milk, as well as this tent thing). He himself served 10 years in the Israeli army, and he said that one of his brothers was the first Beduin to serve in the paratroopers (the most elite unit of the army). He was married, and had 8 sons in nine years (or his wife did...). They were exceedingly cute.

The tent was enormous, and full of mattresses and pillows. The kids had a blast setting up their sleeping space, as Tzvi made a great barbecue for us, topped off with smores. We lit Hanuka candles, ate, and got ready for bed. We had a furry little feline visitor who tried to partake of our barbecue. We tried shoeing it away a million times, before we took the if you can't beat em let em join you approach, and fed it leftover hotdogs way outside of the tent. One of the kids said, "Won't that just make him come back for more?" which was astoute thinking, except for the fact that we clearly were not getting rid of it anyway.

Sleep was challenging-- between the kids who needed to read and the kids who needed darkness (and were bothered by flashlights) and the cat (who kept returning) and the cars that, when they drove by (which wasn't often) sounded like they were headed straight for the tent, and the guy (probably a family member) who moseyed in looking for a light for his cigarette, and then, suddenly the dogs (Oh the dogs!!!) who were barking and barking like mad throughout the night, followed, eventually, by the roosters and the Muslim call to prayer. But nevertheless, it was tremendous fun, and everyone insisted we go back again for another night (though we didn't). In the morning, when we woke up, the kids were all gathered around Ross (who was sleeping), because the cat had decided to crawl up with him for the night, and they had all made great friends. The kids kept asking if we could keep it (we didn't).

The next day we went for a long and arduous and beautiful and exhilarating hike in the Negev, through a water-carved crater. It was a very challenging hike that I would not have chosen if I were planning it (due to its length an difficulty), but I am so glad we did it. Everyone was amazing!!!! And so proud of themselves afterwards!! We went for a great dinner in Dimona, and drove home exhausted.

That's all I can think to tell you for now, though I feel there must be more. I hope you are all having a terrific holiday!!

All the best,

Emily

Devar Torah Vayechi

Happy Chanukah!!!

Hey there,

 

I feel like it has been awhile since I have written, and it's time for an update.  Usually I get inspired by something I particularly want to report about that happened, but that hasn't happened for awhile, as things are settling into everyday life.  But I thought of you guys yesterday, when I was getting ready for Hanuka. 

 

The kids came home so excited for Hanuka.  We were having company for dinner, and there was going to be a big communal candlelighting at the shul.  I was trying to figure out how I could have everything ready in order to go with the kids.  Then I realized that I could just send them to meet Ross there, so I sent them off, and I had the house to myself for an hour.  I turned on the radio, and there was non-stop Hanuka music.  When we first moved here I was worried that I would miss Christmas time.   I really love the music and the holiday spirit of that time of year in America.  I used to love walking downtown in NY and seeing all the store windows and Christmas decorations.  Anyway, here I was listening to the radio,and it was even more amazing.  There were so many songs I didn't know-- first the pioneer songs that I LOVE (Ross makes fun of me, but I love all that early Israeli music), and then the Hassidic songs, and of course the children's songs, but they were all remixed for adult ears (I was listentening to Galei Tzahal, the army radio station, which is one of the only ones we get up here, and anyway I love it).  In between songs, lots of hoilday cheer.  They even apologized for interrupting with the news (like-- we have to take a short break from all this beautiful music to hear real quickly what's going on-- or something like that).  I got to make latkes without anyone in the way.  That's always fun until I remember that no one in my family really likes them so much, so now I have like 30 latkes in the fridge going begging, but oh well).  There are some potato, and some potato, sweet potato and zucchini.  Wanna come?  Adin tried one, but he didn't like it.  He asked if there are any without vegetables.  I gave him a plain potato one and he tore it apart, looking for the part with no vegetables.  It turns out he thinks potatoes are a vegetable.  I guess they are.  But a latke without potatoes or vegetables just somehow isn't the same....

 

After dinner, the kids got together and fought about what dreidel game to play until we had to take away the chocolate gelt.  Just like old times....

 

The weather is starting to get nippy in the mornings.  This morning I wore a sweatshirt to bring Adin to gan, and I kept my hands in the pockets the whole way there (7:45 AM).  Though by the time I was heading home (7:55?), it was already too hot for it, and we are back to short sleeves.  It is crazy!  It's December, right?  People here are worried about the rain.  A couple of weeks ago the kids came home from school informing us that the next day was a fast day.  We asked what they are talking about, and they said that a fast day has been declared to help bring rain.  (The Israeli Rabbinate can't solve the problem of agunot or deal with the current conversion crisis, but they can pull themselves together for this!  Ah-- my tax dollars at work...).  Sure enough, it says in the Mishna that if the rains don't start by a certain date, you are supposed to fast.  Ross was skeptical, and he asked Rav Gilead.  Rav Gilead said he hadn't heard about it, and that he thought it was premature.  He said that those fasts were meant for times of crisis and famine, and in today's world, lack of water doesn't create a famine.  It just makes things more expensive.  SO that was that.  Though what a great educational tool it was for the kids at school.  Anyway, I really don't have much of a sense of how serious the water shortage is here.  I mean, I know it's a problem in the long run, but I sure don't feel it in the day to day.  Though my skin is really dry.  Will rain help that?

 

So at the beginning of this week, still no rain.  The kibbutz decided to have a special prayer service for rain outside in the courtyard.  (We can handle the prayer service.  The fasts are much more incapacitating).  Ross went to the service (I stayed home with kvetchy kids).  One guy laughed, saying we are the opposite of Honi HaMeagel-- the guy who demanded rain from G-d by drawing a circle and saying he was going to stand in it until it rained.  He had no doubt that his prayer would be heard.  At the kibbutz thing, this guy pointed out, everyone arrived in sandals and T-shirts.  They prayed and went home.  Maybe if they would have brought umbrellas?  Then again, it is when I bring an umbrella that it doesn't rain.  So the sandals may have been the right way to go.  Apparently, right after the service, the sprinklers opened up and watering the grass everywhere.  Everyone was laughing about that at the parent meeting that night (see below)

 

The highlight of my week/month/three months since we have been here, has got to have been last Sunday night.  It was Rivital's first parent-teacher conferences.  Oh my gosh, do her teachers love her!!!!  She is doing so amazing in every possible way (except perhaps her handwriting, but I have just about given up on that one at this point.  I'm guessing it means she will be a doctor...).  Getting to the teachers was an ordeal with all the figuring out where to go and who everybody is (there was an enormous dining hall full of teachers at every table, and of course most people know the teachers by sight), but once I would find a teacher, they had so many amazing things to say about her-- Her Hebrew is so amazing; she is fitting in so well and so quickly; so smart and so humble; thoughtful and insightful; participates great; creative, etc etc.  Math and Talmud and Halacha are way too easy for her.  There is a thing where in each class they get a mark at the end if they have been outstanding during that class (participation and tha sort of thing).  She showed me that Rivital has over 30 of these.  Then she randomly flipped through others just to point out that most kids have fewer than half of this.   It was such a pleasure!!! 

While I was there I ran into Abaye's teacher (who has a kid in middle school), and she also told me amazing things about him.  He was having a hard time, but I really think things are turning around for him.  He was very excited to get his first A on a test back, and he took another one which he also thinks he aced, and was feeling great about.  He loves his Hebrew tutor (which they finally got for him), and he loves his special class for English speakers (which is him, Shai, and a few other kids).  He also loves his regular English class, where they let him sit and read.  He just reread Hugo Cabret for the billionth time (thanks Becky and Jacob!!), and now he has decided to reread it AGAIN for the billion and first time!!!  (BTW-- we were visiting friends, and they have it in Hebrew!!!  It is such a beautiful book!).  And then there is this guy who does gardening with kids, and Abaye goes out to him once or twice a week to work on the landscaping.  He seems to be really enoying things a lot more (phew phew phew...). 

 

Adin also seems to be enjoying much more.  This morning, his teacher told me that they were learning about bees, and he didn't ask to leave (which he often does when there is a lot of Hebrew talking), and he got so excited and had to tell everyone something and he jumped up and talked and talked and all the kids listened excitedly.  I asked what he said, and she said she has no idea.  She didn't want to interfere-- he was so excited!  I asked him what he said, but he doens't remember.

 

Shai seems well to, though I have nothing to report.  He's been pretty quiet about school and friends, though when asked he says school is great, and he has a couple of good friends there.  I met one when I went in for the special rain ceremony, and he seemed really sweet and was very excited to meet me.  He is from Ethiopia.  Mostly, Shai's life has been on hold as he is plowing through Harry Potter.  He is on the seventh book, and we have seen the first 5 movies (thanks Rav Elisha and Uriah!!).  I am hoping he won't finish it until the movie comes out in DVD (Rav Elisha and Uriah-- when do you think you'll have it for us to borrow?  : )   Going to movies here is expensive!!) 

 

 I feel like there is more I want to say about our Shabbatot in Modiin and Elezar, but they seem like such a long time ago, I can't remember what was so amazing about them (Other than seeing Debby and Joel and Alissa and Morey-- You guys look GREAT!  And of course the ole Richters!!!!!)  The Richters threw not one but two birthday celebrations!  One for Adin' (whose birthday it was), and one for Abaye because Tzvi had promised him a birthday celebration ever since he failed to get the NBN pilot to change the date of our Aliyah flight in order to coincide with his birthday (though he offered the pilot candy...).  Next week we are going camping in the Negev in a Bedoin tent with those guys!  I'll try to write about that after it happens and before I forget).

 

Oh, I know what I am forgetting -- Adin's birthday party!!!  His gan did SUCH a beautiful job!!!  Very Israeli-- low budget and adorable.  All the kids sat in a circle and sang songs played little games like where a kid hides his eyes and 5 kids hide under a blanket and the kid has to figure out who is under there (by process of elimination.  Not by stepping on them and trying to recognize their screams... though that's a good idea-- I wonder if anyone's tried that before!)  He had the special birthday crown for his head.  The only thing they didn't do that I love is that thing where everyone goes around and gives him a blessing.  But I don't know that so many 4-6 year olds could have sat still for that much longer.  Anyway, it was fabulous!!!  I brought an ice cream cake, which they served in little muffin cups-- like they had never seen ice cream cake before.  By the time we distributed 30 pieces, you can imagine the mess.  But it's not like they were so clean to start with.  The cake had a big pink Elmo.  I couldn't get food coloring, so I colored it with beet juice.  No one minded. 

 

A couple of nights ago we went to a meeting about an Ulpena (a religious school for girls) they are thinking of opening here.  It actually seemed pretty close to a done deal.  They said "we" have to make a decsion by right after Hanuka if we want to open it (the choices are that they open it as part of our school's campus or we don't and someone else will...).  After we decide, we will see what it will actually look like.  She mentioned something about the school wanting "Educational autonomy".  This is not a very American approach to consumerism (though it was actually VERY reminiscent to me of when they brought the Hafetz Haim yeshiva to Vancouver-- remember how they said it was so important for the community, which maybe it was, but it also split the already tiny population of religious kids in Vancouver, making the previous educational structure much weaker).  The woman presenting was quite adamant that we had to either do it or it would destroy our school.  Then all these parents and teachers spoke up about how they fear it will undermine the school as it is now.  It is one of the few Orthodox schools with mixed classes (though most of the learning is indeed separate, kid have some specials together and can socialize outside of the classroom).  The ulpena would probably mean separating the campuses.  Kibbutzniks are very proud of their more open, tolerant, mixed approach to education-- especially those that graduated the school.  It was a shame, because we were very excited about the school going into the meeting.  It is supposed to specialize in arts, which Rivital wants desperately.  We also thought that being more religious, it would be more educationally intensive.  But (correct me if I'm wrong, all you ulpena graduates and other Israelis in the know), as it turns out, the school has the same hours and the same instruction time.  NO extra Judaic studies.  AND girls would probably not be taught Talmud (though as I mentioned, details are to follow).  When we asked what is so great about the school, this one mom and teacher who went to one said it's the "Hoo wah!"  Apparently, they are a lot of fun, and encourage lots of excitement.  The woman who said this said she loved her ulpena and is not sorry she went, but that she really believes in the philosophy of the school as it is now, and that they also have their share of fun and great projects.  Another teacher (who is Rivital's Talmud teacher and wife of one of the yeshiva rabbis) is worried that they won't be encouraged to think critical.  She seemed pretty worried about the whole thing.  It will be tough, because after the meeting, Ross and I agreed we'd rather keep the school as it is, but if they open the ulpena, I fear that all the religious and more serious students may leave the school for it, and then we would probably send Tali as well (Which is probably what we would have done with our boys in Vancouver as well if we would have stayed).  Oh well.  We'll see.  I am really open to input from others who have thoughts --especially who know about these schools.  But it was all very interesting anyway. 

 

I must be forgetting other things, but this has gone on quite long already.  Hopefully I'll write again after our trip south....

 

Love,

 

Em

 

PS I am trying to attach pictures.  I was going to have kids in the pictures, but they're not here now.  Maybe I'l throw in some separate pix of them too....

 

 

 

I know.  I know.  I was adding pix and I realized that most of you are not interested if there are no kids in them.  And anyway, when I show you the boys' furniture, there is a very special treat (and an opportunity for extra credit-- stay tuned...) but alas, all that will have to wait until they get home from school.  In the meantime, though, I have been promising Jodi pix of the couches (which I designed-- they separate and have extra pillows, to be used as benches at the dining room table when we have a lot of company).  I took the last picture with a dining room chair next to the couch so you can see that the chairs have been recoved to match them (and to be wipe-clean friendly...)  This may be only interesting to Jodi, but just in case any others are interested here they are.  I threw in some pix from Adin's birthday to keep your attention, though they didn't some out so great.  There is a video from that somewhere, but I don't know how to find it.  There is also a picture of the penisula in the kitchen (also designed by moi), and in the back corner you can see Kojak, the bald dishwasher (that's for you, Joann!).  You can sort of make out how it is covered by a big piece of cardboard, and then held down by several cookbooks so it doesn't tip over when we open the drawers.  It is also covered in food, which will go in the cabinet that will be installed above it when the guy comes, which, according to him, will definitely be by two weeks ago, so not to worry!

 

Hope you enjoy (or that you can easily find the delete button or your browser)!!

 

Em

PPS.  Hi again!

 

Did you miss me?  After receiving a resonse from a friend here pointing out that the lack of rain is a VERY big deal, I wanted to just clarify my thoughts about that.  I am also hoping to protect the good name of one of our favorite rabbis, whom I may have misrepresented, but with that I have to add the caviat that I may still be misrepresenting him, so please don't judge him based on what I say he said.  I have a terrible memory for details.  Anyway, I just cut and pasted it from my response to my friend.  Hope you don't mind.  I've been emailing all morning, and am still hoping to see the light of a beautiful day....

 

 

Thanks so much for your thoughts.  As I read what you said about the water shortage being a REALLY BIG DEAL, I realized that I left something out that is important (in Rav Gilead's name I should really correct it-- I'll try to do that after), though it may not cause you to agree with him.  He made the point that there are other means available to us to deal with a water crisis (buying water, desalinating the Dead Sea, etc) that doesn't mean we have no water crisis, but not comparable to praying for our lives, as people were doing in the times of the Torah.  To get the difference, I am reminded of the unbelievably amazing book (in my opinion) about the African boy who created a wind mill and thus brought electricity to his village.  It's called, um...  The Boy Who Harnessed the Wind, I think.  It's a true story (autobigraphical) about a kid whose family could no longer afford to send him to school so in his spare time he found a really old physics book in a little local library and taught himself to make a windmill (it'a a little more complicated than that, but that's the idea).  When it didn't rain enough in his village, people didn't have enough food, and they suffered and died in large numbers as a result.  There was one year when they had just planted their crops and the rain came too hard and destroyed everything.  It was gruelling to read about the year that followed, when their was no food to be found anywhere.  I am trying to remember if prayer was a big thing for them.  I can't even remember.  but with his technology (eventually he was sent abroad and studied and was able to create something quite sophisticated), they were able to irrigate the fields from a river or something (I forget the details), but the point is they were able to add a whole second harvest season every year, and it virtually eliminated the phenomen of never knowing from year to year if they would have enough food to make it to another year, and being totally dependent on the weather for their fate.  I know rain is still really important, and it's not that we don't pray for it, as I am sure does Rav Gilead.  But you are totally right that it is a big problem, and especially right that some heshbon hanefesh is a great idea!  Definitely, as you mentioned, we can start with not calling  foreign workers parasites (like our interior minister did)!!  I'll stop if you think it will help : )  Your being good to strangers idea is good too.  Did you actually count how many times it says that in the Torah, or have you heard Israel Campbell's shtick about how we read so many subtleties into the Torah (like don't cook a kid in it's mother's milk surely means to keep separate dishes), but when we get to "Be kind to the stranger" we are baffled: "What could that mean?  There it is again.  It says it 48 (or however many) times, but what could that mean?  What are we supposed to actually do?"

 

Anyway, please don't misunderstant me, and most importantly-- please don't stop praying for rain!!!  (or please start....)  And a little heshbon hanefesh (s"oul searching?") would be great too. 

 

 

THanks,

 

Em

On The First Night of Chanukah...

Published in Hebrew

I turned my post on Rabbi Chaim David Halevi's opinion on selling homes to non-Jews into an opinion piece. A former student of Maale Gilboa translated it and its now on the web. Here's the link

I hope that it will be published in English as well.

Only in Israel

I know-- I hate when people say that, but seriously-- tell me when the last time was something like this happened to you.  (Really -- tell me!  I bet it was funny!!)

 

I went into the shop at Sachne to buy a coffee.  The guy told me where the sugar was.  I asked if he had "sucrazit" (sweet n low).  As he was handing it to me he said, "Lo ta-im li v'lo ozer l'ishti." (It doesn't taste good to me and it doesn't help my wife!) 

 

Some of you have been asking how the B'nei Akiva weekend extravaganze was and what we thought of it.  I've been meaning to write, but things got busy with the arrival of most of our furniture, and unpacking into it.  I want to write about that too, but by next week we will have all of our furniture, so I wanted to wait till then.  I can give you the preview (approved for all audiences):  It is AWESOME!!!!  It's mostly the kids' bedroom furniture.  Also our bed and the kitchen "peninsula" (not an island, as it attaches the counter with the short leg of an L, or as we say in Hebrew, the short leg of a "resh."  The kids' beds are SOOOO COOOOL!!!!  I'll try to send pix next time. 

 

About B'nei Akiva-- it was really amazing.  Our kids were slow to get into it when we first moved here.  Shai is very protective of his down time, of which there isn't much (outside of school, between Beit Yeladim-- the "children's house" and B'nei Akiva,  they've got the kids programmed round the clock).  Friday morning is their only day to stay in in the morning, and Shai refuses to give that up.  Abaye is slow to get into most social things, and he is also very particular, so when he did start going, he used to come home for the"boring parts" which I didn't think would fly with them, but I figured I'd let them handle that.  But when things got in gear for the big "hodesh irgun," they all really got into it (Tali too).  They all worked so hard, and what they produced was unbelievable impressive! 

 

On Shabbat after kiddush, they gave us a tour of the miklat where they set up what was literally a museum.  We kne wthey had been painting walls all month, but I didn't realize they were creating beautifully detailed murals!  Each age group had an exhibit, and in the end there was a contest bewteen them.  The walls were first covered in paper, and then murals over top.

 

The theme of the month, worldwide, was "aliyah."  Each age group focused on a different aspect of aliyah. One group was about aliyah to the Torah.  One was about aliyah from within (still not quite sure what that meant, but it sounds spiritual!).  But the overwhelming theme was about people moving to Israel.  Everyone kept joking that it was all about us!   The kids all thought it was cool that we were living what they were learning about. 

 

Then Saturday night there was a big marching and yelling ceremony around the kibbut, which ended in a parking lot, where they named the group a year ahead of Tali.  See, I never knew this, but when kids reach that age (9th grade), their group receives a name that will be unique to them forever.  If you meet someone and they were in B'nei Akiva, you could ask them what "tribe" and they would tell you, and from that you could know if they were 45 or 73 or 95 years old.  Then you can hoot with excitement if you happen to meet someone from your very own tribe!!  So they named the tribe "Na'aleh" (from the roo of aliyah, meaning "let's go up!"), and of course they had it spelled out on this humungous flammable thing that spelled the name out in giant letters of fire.  Then everyone did loud cheers for their groups (also part of the competition), and then we went to the dining hall for the plays.

 

Each age group had a play based on their own theme, that they wrote, practiced and performed.  A few of you expressed concern about Abaye's protrayal of a drunk Russian (the stereotyping), and from what Rivital described, her play had a lot to do with making fun of "arsim" (which, Israelis correct me if I am not translating this right, is like "geeks."  Or maybe it's like "aggies" if you are from Houston). 

 

I was getting nervous about a repeat of our horrible experience when Rivital and Shai studied in the Old City of Jerusalem (5 years ago) and they had a big end of the year extravaganza (sorry to those of you who know this story already). Each class had its own song and production.  The first graders began with the Midrash when G-d goes to all the other nations, offering them the Torah.  One nation asks what's in it, G-d says "don't kill" and they say they don't want it.  The next nation asks what's in it and they say, (um... I forget, don't lie, maybe?) and they say they don't want it.  Then G-d asks another nation and they don't want it b/c it says "Don't steal.".  Finally G-d offers the Torah to the Jews, and they say "We'll take it!  Now tell us what it says!"  (Would we have really taken it if we knew we couldn't eat lobster?!  I guess we'll never know).  But anyway, so there is this peppy Hassidic rock song that makes a modern version of the Midrash.  In the first verse, G-d goes to the Russians and asks them if they want the Torah.  In the show, a group of little first graders were dressed up as Russians.  They ask, What does it say?  There's one G-d.  No thanks.  We don't believe in G-d.  Then they go to the Americans (picture kids dressed as Americans), and the Americans ask what it says and G-d says Honor your mother.  The Americans say that no, they only do that once a year on Mother's Day.  Finally, in the song,  they go to the Arabs (which kids are dressed like) and ask what it says and G-d says Don't steal and they say no thanks(!)  We were so appauled and mortified that they did this at our kids' school!  And that a first year old class spent weeks practicing this and drumming this idea into their heads!!  And that they were blasting it out in the courtyard of the Old City, where many passersby and Arab neighbors could hear!

 

But here, at the B'nei Akiva thing, my neighbor had reassured me that the point at the end would be about looking past the stereotypes, so I held my judgment.  After weeks of hard work, and a final week of late nights (for which they didn't have homework all week!), there we were witting and watching the show.  It was so impressive from scenery to organization to preparation. 

 

To be honest, Ross and I had a lot of trouble understanding most of what was going on (between the Hebrew and the sound system and the kids), but we got to see the script too.  In Abaye's play, there was a guy just moving to Israel, and he was walking around, meeting all different people along the way.  Each portrayed a different stereotype-- the French were all talking about fashion and some other group was focused on food.  Or maybe that was also the French.  When I saw Abaye stagger out on stage drinking "beer" I was nervous.  The kid making aliyah asked him what the Russians contributed to Israel, and he slurred, "Vodka vodka vodka!"  I could have melted out of my seat, I was so mortified.  But then the kid asked what else they brought, and he said, "Security!  Also malls! gardens! parks! pubs! and so much more!"  Rivital's play was similar in that it made fun of "arsim" only to show in the end how everyone helped each other to get along.  The "arsim" spend all their time on the computer, but they end up facingbooking with an elderly woman who teaches them about Hannah Senesh and how she founded kibbutzim and did so many other amazing things, convincing them that there is more to life than computers. 

 

Do the morals justify the steroetyping?  Hard to tell.  I don't know if it would meet American standards of political correctness, but definitely the point was about getting past the stereotypes and getting along.  And people around here are really amazing about getting along and enjoying differences, so I think they're doing a good job.  There is a really diverse population here-- no religiously so much, but ethnically.  And the kids really seem to get along amazingly well.  We heard so many nightmares about Americans being treated badly in school when they make aliyah.  But none of my kids seem to have experienced any of that.  People think it's cool that they are from America.  It may be cause it's such a small place that everybody has to get along.  Like when we lived in Vancouver and our kids went to the little Orthodox school there, and someone (Hannah Ungar maybe?) told us that there aren't any cliques there, and she said it's because there are so few kids that they all need eachother or they wouldn't have any friends.  Here, the school is big, but everyone is from a smaller kibbutz.  Ours is probably the smallest.  Each of the kids has just one, two or three kids of their gender in their class on kibbutz.  So they all play together and they play with kids of different ages.  And fortunately, it just so happens that the kids (at least the ones our kids bring around) are adorable cute!

 

Anyway, so in summary, the B'nei Akiva extravaganza was very fun and impressive.  Our friend Maddy (hi Maddy!... she told me she's been awaiting this update to hear what I thought) was one of the judges.  In fact, she comes from a family that was less religious and not involved in B'nei Akiva, but somehow she got involved, and that's what got her hooked and brought her to Israel, and she remembers the madness of chodesh irgun from back then!  And I don't know how old she is (and if I did I wouldn't tell you), but just to give you an idea, she has kids with kids!  (But by looking at her, you'd think she must have had them at 15.  Though perhaps I shouldn't tell you that either...).  But anyway, so this is a long standing tradition of sleepless nights, hard work, and lots of yelling!   So she was one of the judges, and I tried to bribe her with silly bands, but it didn't work (she said her students give her silly bands all the time).  But then again maybe it did, because Abaye's group won the competition!  (More yelling!!)

 

So there you have it.  Hope you enjoyed.  More after our furniture, if not before....

 

All the best,

 

Emily

Sachne Revisited

Just when you thought things couldn't get more interesting....

 

So I went to Sachne for a swim yesterday morning.  I drive through the entrance, saying hi to the gate lady.  I turn right onto the road that bypasses the first parking lot (cuz I know how to do that now.  I'm a regular!).  I drive down to the last parking lot and go all the way to the end to park in my favorite spot right by the showers.  There is not another car in sight.  It is winter (maybe a little chilly.  Certainly not oppressively hot like it's been), and I get there pretty early, so I'm thinking-- yay!  I got the place to myself!  I do my little ritual of hiding valuables all over my car before I lock it and clip the key to my bathing suit.  I've got me swim cap on and my goggles ready to go.  I head down towards the water.  Something doesn't look right.  The water seems a little low.  The kiddie pool is empty.  The waterfalls aren't falling, and Holy Cow!  The entire spring is empty!  The water, that is usually way way way too deep to stand in, and is 200 meters from bridge to waterfall, is EMPTY!  I mean, there's a tiny bit of water at the bottom.  Maybe it would come to your ankles or shins.  And no fish!    I mean, I know we haven't been getting rain, but I was just here last Friday!  It is a natural spring, right?!  And if there is no water, why did they let me in?  Itake all the water out in the winter, then I think selling me a membership by telling me they are open year round is a scam, no?  f they If there was something wrong, why didn't the gate lady say something?  I saw people on the other side by the restaurant-- a couple of guys with motorcycles, and some other people father up.  No one was acting like anything was wierd.  It was surreal.  Like the time when Ross was walking with a friend down a dark alley at night in NY, and he turned to his friend and said, "I don't know how to tell you this, but I think we're in a dream."  His friend said, What are you talking about?"  and he responded, "There's no hole in my coat pocket.  For years there has been a hole in this coat pocket and suddenly there is no hole.  I can't explain it.  I'm telling you, we're in a dream, man!"

 

It turned out that he just had his hand in a different pocket.  He hadn't realized there were two pockets on each side.  But anyway, back to me.  So I have a bust day planned and I don't want to miss out on my exercise, so I decide I'll take a hike around the place.  I've been wanting to do that for awhile anyway.  It is a historic site, where there was an early settlement and an ancient flour mill and all kinds of interesting things.  There's a museum on the other side.  So I throw some clothes over my bathing suit, and I start walking, and I figure I'll ask the first person I see about the water.  I get all the way to the museum, which is open, so I go inside.  The first woman I ask has no idea what I am talking about.  Then I see a woman from our kibbutz-- I think she is there with a school trip.  I ask her where all the water went.  First she says she doesn't know what I'm talking about, and I tell her that I went to swim, and all the pools are dried up.  She smiles and nods, and explains that in the winter, they divert the waters from all the pools but the first one (the one I bypasses when I came in).  She send they send the water to the fish and stuff. 

 

Well then.  got in my car and drove to the first pool.  It's no 200 meters from bridge to water fall, but it's still pretty beautiful, and way bigger than olympic size.  On one side there is even a sort of deck built from stoe under the water to make a big very shallow area for people to sit.  There were probably 30 people or so.  Only 5 or 6 swimming laps.  So this is what it is for winter.  Good to know. 

 

So Naomi-- do you still want to come tomorrow? 

 

In other news, how many  of you were in B'nei Akiva and what's up with this Hodesh Irgun business?!?!?!  Hodesh Irgun ("Organization month?") is apparently the kick off for the year of BI youth programming, though from all the hype, I don't think that quite captures it.  It's a very big deal.  Just when the holidays are over and you think students can actually start learning stuff, begins the madness.  It started with the first Shabbat Irgun, where the kids went for their own Seudah Shlishit and did a lot of singing and yelling.  Since then they have had programming almost every night of the week.  At first my kids were a little ambivalent, but they too have been swept up by the madness.  The final week (this week), the kids are out late every single night.  As far as I can tell they are mostly painting walls and practicing for a play of questionable content (where Abaye claims he needs a beer bottle so he can represent the stereotype of the drunk Russian-- a couple of you have already commented on the problematicness of that, and I should really look more into it), and yelling a lot (we can hear them from the apt).  This "hodesh" is so important that this last week none of my kids have homework all week!  Yesterday they announced that today they will meet from 4:00 to 11:00 PM!!  And that's just the elementary school kids (Can you guys imagine Shai up that late?!  He is going to a big grumpy lump on Friday!)  I asked when they will eat dinner, and they send they send them home for a little break in the middle, but they have no idea what time).  I thought that was astonishing enough until Rivital came in last night at 11:00, informing me that their practice will be from 11:00 PM to 4:00 AM!!!!  Why?  Why?   Why?  I asked.  Because it's "White moon night" (or something like that), as though that explains it.   What is she supposed to do from 4:00 to 11:00 before it starts?!?!?!  Prop he eyelids open with toothpicks?!  (Actually for Talin this won't be a problem)  Then the culmination is some big emormous thing Saturday night after Shabbat where I am guessing they will set a house on fire or something (like they do on Lag B'Omer), but who knows?  All I know is that it promises to be so exciting, and so late, that SCHOOL IS CANCELLED SUNDAY!!  My only question is, "How come I didn't have B'nei Akiva when I was a kid?!?!?!?!?!" 

 

I'm really not complaining.  It's cute, and it's great for the kids.  They are so excited about it.  They are making great friends.  It's definitely great for their Hebrew.  And they are no worse off in school than anyone else  (Did I mention that Abaye got 104 on his first Chumash test and Rivital got a 106 on her "Toshba" (Torah She B'al Peh-- Oral Torah)?  Or that Shai has been reading over a hundred pages of Harry Potter per day?). It just makes you wonder how the country produces the greatest number of scientists per capita of any country and leads the world in industry and technology.  Is it because they train people to pull all-nighters? 

 

I feel like there is something else I am forgetting, so don't be surprised if a PS follows. 

 

All the best,

 

Emily

Sunrise

Sunrise on The Gilboa just before Shacharit

Rights of Non-Jews In Israel: Rabbi Chaim David Halevy's View

There has been a controversy recently in Israel regarding selling homes/land to non-Jews.  A Group of Rabbis in Tzfat have called upon Jews to refrain from selling homes to non-Jews.  Then last Thurs. morning Rabbi Ovadia Yosef in a morning halakhah class was reported as saying that it is forbidden to sell homes to non-Jews in Israel.

Some have written that this is a straight forward law of the Torah with no one disputing it.  When I read this, I recalled the writings of Rabbi Chayim David Halevy who addressed this subject in his responsa Aseh Lecha Rav.

(A little about the relationship between Rabbi Halevy and his bar Plugta (partner in dispute) in this matter Rabbi Ovadia Yosef -- The following is from Rabbi Marc Angel's biography of Rabbi Halevy pg. 27.  "When the term of office of Sephardic Chief Rabbi  of Israel, Rabbi Mordechai Eliyahu, was concluding in the early 1990's, Rabbi Halevy was offered as a candidate by the Mafdal party (Mizrachi).  Rabbi Halevy, though, was not one to engage in political maneuvering or campaigning for office.  Rabbi Ovadya Yosef, although a colleague of Rabbi Halevy's from their days together at Porat Yosef, was interested in having a Sephardic Chief Rabbi affiliated with and loyal to his Shas party. Given Rabbi Yosef's vast influence in the process of selecting the Sephardic Chief Rabbi, it was almost a foregone conclusion that Rabbi Halevy could not win-- unless he became a member of the Shas party.  Having been a longtime member of Mizrachi, and having a general aversion to the ethnic politics of Shas, Rabbi Halevy would not consider sacrificing his principles and integrity to join the Shas bandwagon/  Consequently, he did not win the office of Sephardic Chief Rabbi of Israel; rather the office went to Rabbi Eliyahu Bakshi-Doron, a follower of Rabbi Ovadya Yosef.)

Consistently in this 9 volume collection Rabbi Halevy rules that there is no contemporary prohibition to selling homes to non-Jews.  For the record I want to share his analysis.

In the beginning of chapter 7 of Deuteronomy the Torah states, "When God your Lord brings you to the land you are entering, so that you can occupy it, He will uproot many nations before you--the Hittites, Girgashites, Amorites, Canaanites, Peritiztes, Hivites ad Jebusites-- seven nations more numerous and powerful than you are.  When the Lord your God gives them to you and you smite them, utterly destroy them, do not make any covenant with them and do not show them favor."  The Rabbis of the Talmud interpret "do not show them any favor" to mean do not give them any hold on the land (the Hebrew "techanem" can be read to me give them a camp -- thus do not give them a camp or hold (on the land)). It is this verse with the interpretation that I mentioned on which those who would forbid Jews to sell land to non-Jews base themselves.

What does Rabbi Halevy do with this.  Firstly, he notes that the straightforward read of the Biblical passage seems to refer to the original Canaanite nations and nobody else.  (Aseh Lecha Rav 4:21 page 20-21 8:68 pg 193).  Indeed, he notes that some of the rishonim (post talmudic commentators) limit this prohibition to the original seven Canaanite nations.  However, Maimonides understands this prohibition to apply to all idolaters.  To this, Rabbi Halevy brings the opinion of the Meiri (a fourteenth century scholar from Provence) that prohibitions against idolaters do not apply to contemporary non-Jews.  These prohibitions were directed against the extremely corrupt and violent society of ancient times but have no relevance to the morally restrained societies of today (Aseh Lecha Rav 4:1 pg. 24; 8:68 pg. 194; 9:30 pg 68).  On just these technical grounds R. Halevy claims that nowadays it is absolutely permitted to sell land to non-Jews.

But Rabbi Halevy goes further.  It is not just on the basis of these technicalities that there is no prohibition.  He seems to claim that given the radically different nature of society today there can be no place for discriminatory prohibitions like this.  He notes that Israel's declaration of independence states, "there will be complete social and political equal rights for all of its citizens without regard for religion, race, or gender."  On this basis Rabbi Halevy claims that Israel is obligated to its non-Jewish citizens the same rights that are granted by law to Jews. (Aseh Lecha Rav 9:30 pg. 61)  If the formative document of the modern state of Israel was made with a promise to give equal rights to non-Jews, this promise must be kept.  He further notes that in the western democratic world, in which Israel operates, the basis of society is that every human being has equal rights and there is no place in a democratic state for discrimination on the basis of religion. (ibid pg. 63).  The prohibitions mentioned in the early halakhic literature are based on a totally different political reality and therefore have no relevance in our democratic society.

In Rabbi Angel's biography on page 197, he quotes from Rabbi Halevy's book Bein Yisrael L'Amim, "It is clear that we cannot relate to the minority [Israeli Arabs] with false accusations and the ferocity of hatred.  Who knows better than we the taste of persecutions and racist discrimination that spread hatred and poison in the heart.  Rather, we go upright in the paths of peace and understanding, for they are the way of Torah whose paths are the paths of pleasantness and all its ways are peace.  We must find a just solution in the spirit of the Torah."
What a far cry R. Halevy's position is from what has been said in the name of halakhah in the news lately.  As one who finds both R. Halevy's legal reasoning and his moral intution compelling I felt the need to share this Torah.  Thanks for listening.

The Chief Rabbinate Has Run Its Course -- OpEd by Rosh Yeshivat Maale Gilboa Rabbi Yehuda Gilad

UPDATE UPDATE!!

The piece was posted in The Jewish Week.

In the wake of a decision of a committee of the Israeli Chief Rabbinate to review the status of those converted to Judaism by the Israeli Army's conversion program, Rabbi Yehuda Gilad (Rosh Yeshiva at Maale Gilboa) wrote an oped piece on ynet claiming that the Rabbinate has run its course (literally come to the end of its road/path).  Today I spent a lot of time translating the piece into English.  Google gave me a good start but I needed to work a lot to polish it.

Here is a linear style (if I loose my job at YMG, Metzudah publishing may be an alternative ;-)) translation followed by just the English.  I hope to publish the English version in some English papers and on our English Maale Gilboa website. (I am open to hearing grammatical corrections as well as suggestions to improve the translation as well)

If there is to remain any meaning to the terms state Rabbinate and religious Zionism, then the recent decision casting aspersions on IDF conversions, should be "last straw" in our relationship with the Chief Rabbinate of Israel. As a religious Zionist who believes that Israel is the beginning of our redemption, it is not easy for me to come to terms with this realization, but it seems to me that that the time has come to say honestly, sincerely, and painfully, that the Chief Rabbinate as it stands today has run its course.  The Rabbinate’s resolution, besides transgressing the biblical prohibition of oppressing converts, (reason enough to reject it), clearly demonstrates its complete abnegation of responsibility to Clal Yisrael and the Jewish character of the state, and preference for a sectarian approach that sees reality through an ultra-orthodox lens .We have reached an absurd situation in which the state’s own Rabbinate, bowing to the Chareidi position, is endangering the past achievements and future potential of Israel.  The high degrees of assimilation of the Jewish people in exile means that Am Yisrael is losing thousands of Jews each year. The State of Israel was until recent decades the only place in the world where assimilation was nearly non-existent. Marriage between Jews and Gentiles living in Israel, Arabs and Druze, etc. are rare, and Israel was the only place that guaranteed the demographic future of the Jewish people. As is well known, in the last decade, things have changed. The large immigration from the former USSR included hundreds of thousands of descendants of Jews who themselves are not Jewish according to halachah. These wonderful people have in an impressive fashion integrated into the life of the state – into the army, the economy, and into society in general. The stage that should complete the integration for many of them into a normative Jewish life in the state of Israel is marriage with Israeli Jews. Our people has never in our history faced a challenge like this one before.  This is the time to engage in a broad national campaign, to encourage halachic conversion of large segments of this population. This should be a watershed moment for a state Rabbinate that has the considerations of the entire Jewish people before its eyes. It must be stated clearly; there are only two options: One is a sweeping effort towards creating an halachic, friendly, and welcoming conversion process based on the large body of lenient opinions articulated in the halachic corpus over generations, that would allow acceptance of many of these immigrants into the Jewish people. The alternative is an unyielding adherence to the most stringent positions in halachah, according to which one may not accept conversions of these immigrants, even at the price of creating thousands of mixed marriages between Jews and Gentiles. There is a known and accepted principle in the world of Jewish law that under pressing circumstances, one may rely upon a minority opinion. It seems that there could be no greater pressing circumstance or emergency than the current situation! Moreover, there is no need to rely on isolated or obscure opinions but rather there is ample and prevalent precedent in Jewish law for a more permissive approach. Ultra-Orthodox who adopt the strict approach are apparently unconcerned about the demographic disaster of assimilation. According to them, intermarriage is a phenomenon only in the secular society, and they can therefore can absolve themselves by saying "its not our problem.”  However, those who are concerned for the future of Israel as a Jewish state cannot remain indifferent to the present situation that is developing before our eyes. In only a few years from now, we will split into two separate peoples. Both will be Israelis, Hebrew speakers, and self-identified as Jewish, but only one will be technically and halakhically Jewish. As important as issues such as kashrut, Shabbat and religious services are, there is currently no Jewish communal matter that comes close to approaching the significance of this challenge upon which our future here as a Jewish state rests.  We must admit and say honestly, the current Chief Rabbinate (with all due respect to the many fine individuals who make up its ranks), as an institution, has neither the desire nor the ability to cope with this challenge. Unfortunately, it buries its head in the sand, and even kowtows to the Chareidi community, which is ambivalent at best, and antagonistic at worst to the very state the Rabbinate is meant to serve.  Despite the pain and difficulty involved in breaking with this institution that we had great dreams for, I hereby call upon the lay people and the Rabbis of the religious-Zionist community to say openly what many of us have already felt in our hearts for some time. The Chief Rabbinate has run its course.

אם יש עדיין בעולמנו משמעות כלשהי למושגים כמו "רבנות ממלכתית" שיקולים כלל ישראליים  ואף "ציונות דתית" בכלל,דומני שהחלטת הרבנות הראשית לישראל המטילה צל של ספק על הגיורים בצה"ל, צריכה להיות "הקש  האחרון" ביחסנו עם הרה"ר לישראל. כציוני דתי המאמין שמדינת ישראל היא ראשית צמיחת גאולתנו לא קל לי עם תובנה זו, אך נראה לי כי הגיע הזמן לומר ביושר בכנות ובצער, שהמוסד הזה כפי שההוא נראה היום הגיע כנראה לסוף דרכו.  החלטת מועצת הרה"ר לישראל  מלבד היותה נגועה באיסור דאורייתא של"הונאת הגר", סיבה מספקת על מנת להוקיעה, משקפת בברור את ההתבטלות המוחלטת של  הגישה הרואה את עצמה אחראית לכלל ישראל ולאופיה היהודי של המדינה, בפני הגישה החרדית הרואה את המציאות דרך אשנב התפיסה החרדית. הגענו למצב אבסורדי בו ההישג היהודי הגדול של מדינת ישראל  עומד  בסכנה דוקא בשל עמדתם של יהודים חרדים  וכעת גם בתמיכתה של הרה"ר לישראל. במצב ההתבוללות הנורא בו מצוי העם היהודי בגולה, עם ישראל מאבד אלפי יהודים מדי שנה . מדינת ישראל היתה בעשרות השנים האחרונות המקום היחיד בעולם בו ההתבוללות אינה קיימת כמעט לחלוטין. נישואין בין יהודים לגויים הגרים בארץ , ערבים  דרוזים וכיו"ב  נדירים, וכך היתה ישראל למקום היחיד בעולם המבטיח את העתיד הדמוגרפי של העם היהודי. בעשור האחרון , כידוע השתנו הדברים. בעליה הברוכה מבריה"מ לשעבר, עלו גם מאות אלפים של צאצאי יהודים שאינם יהודים על פי ההלכה. האנשים היקרים הללו התערו באופן מרשים בחיי המדינה, בחברה, בצבא, בכלכלה, ובכל מערכות החיים. השלב החותם את ההתערות של רבים מהם בחיי המדינה, הוא נישואין עם יהודים ישראלים בני הארץ הזאת. אתגר לאומי, יהודי, הלכתי מעין זה לא היה לנו מעולם בהיסטוריה של עמנו. זהו הזמן לצאת במבצע לאומי רחב היקף, על מנת לעודד גיור כהלכה של רבים וטובים מן הציבור הזה . זו אמורה להיות שעתה הגדולה של רבנות ממלכתית ששיקולי כלל ישראל לנגד עיניה.  צריך לומר זאת בברור האפשרויות הן שתיים בלבד: האחת היא מאמץ נרחב לגיור הלכתי מאיר פנים, מעודד וידידותי המסתמך על הדעות המקילות של חלק גדול מפוסקי הדורות המאפשר קבלתם של רבים מעולים אלו לעם ישראל. והשניה היא היצמדות לגישות המחמירות בהלכה אשר על פיהן אין לקבל גיורם של עולים אלו, כאשר המשמעות  של קבלת דרך זו היא אלפי נישואי תערובת בין יהודים לגויים.  כלל ידוע ומקובל בעולמה של ההלכה הוא שבשעת הדחק סומכים להקל גם על דעת מיעוט בהלכה. במקרה דנן דומה שאין שעת הדחק או שעת חירום גדולה מזו! מה גם שאין צורך להסתמך על דעות יחידות  וניתן להסתמך על דעות הרווחות למדי בעולם הפסיקה. החרדים המאמצים את הגישה המחמירה, אינם מוטרדים כנראה מאסון ההתבוללות, נישואי התערובת הרי יהיו מנת חלקה של החברה החילונית, ואשר אולי על כן יכולים הם לפטור עצמם באמירת "מה לנו ולצרה זו". אולם מי שחרד לעתידה של ישראל כמדינה יהודית, אינו יכול להישאר אדיש נוכח מצב המתפתח מול עינינו בו בעוד שנים לא מעטות יווצרו כאן שני עמים. שניהם ישראלים  דוברי עברית, בעלי זהות ותודעה עצמית יהודית, אך אחד מהם אינו יהודי בעליל. עם כל החשיבות לנושאים כמו כשרות, שבת ושרותי דת, אין כיום בארץ שום ענין יהודי ציבורי המתקרב בחשיבותו לאתגר חשוב זה, שההתמודדות עימו קריטית לעתידנו כאן כמדינה יהודית.  צריך להודות ולומר בהגינות ,הרבנות הראשית הנוכחית בכל הכבוד, ומבלי להתיחס לענינים הפרסונליים של חלק מנושאי התפקידים בה, אין בה את הרצון והיכולת להתמודד עם אתגר זה. במקום זאת היא בוחרת במקרה הטוב לטמון את ראשה בחול, ובמקרה הפחות טוב לכוף את ראשה בפני "גדולי התורה" החרדים הליטאים. עם כל הכאב והקושי אני קורא אפוא בזאת לחברי הרבנים ולציבור הציוני דתי בכללו לומר בגלוי את שרבים מאיתנו חשים  ושותקים זה מכבר: הרבנות הראשית לישראל הגעה לסוף דרכה.

If there is to remain any meaning to the terms state Rabbinate and religious Zionism, then the recent decision casting aspersions on IDF conversions, should be "last straw" in our relationship with the Chief Rabbinate of Israel.

As a religious Zionist who believes that Israel is the beginning of our redemption, it is not easy for me to come to terms with this realization, but it seems to me that that the time has come to say honestly, sincerely, and painfully, that the Chief Rabbinate as it stands today has run its course.

 The Rabbinate’s resolution, besides transgressing the biblical prohibition of oppressing converts, (reason enough to reject it), clearly demonstrates its complete abnegation of responsibility to Clal Yisrael and the Jewish character of the state, and preference for a sectarian approach that sees reality through an ultra-orthodox lens .We have reached an absurd situation in which the state’s own Rabbinate, bowing to the Chareidi position, is endangering the past achievements and future potential of Israel.

The high degrees of assimilation of the Jewish people in exile means that Am Yisrael is losing thousands of Jews each year. The State of Israel was until recent decades the only place in the world where assimilation was nearly non-existent. Marriage between Jews and Gentiles living in Israel, Arabs and Druze, etc. are rare, and Israel was the only place that guaranteed the demographic future of the Jewish people.

As is well known, in the last decade, things have changed. The large immigration from the former USSR included hundreds of thousands of descendants of Jews who themselves are not Jewish according to halachah. These wonderful people have in an impressive fashion integrated into the life of the state – into the army, the economy, and into society in general. The stage that should complete the integration for many of them into a normative Jewish life in the state of Israel is marriage with Israeli Jews.

Our people has never in our history faced a challenge like this one before.  This is the time to engage in a broad national campaign, to encourage halachic conversion of large segments of this population. This should be a watershed moment for a state Rabbinate that has the considerations of the entire Jewish people before its eyes.

It must be stated clearly; there are only two options: One is a sweeping effort towards creating an halachic, friendly, and welcoming conversion process based on the large body of lenient opinions articulated in the halachic corpus over generations, that would allow acceptance of many of these immigrants into the Jewish people. The alternative is an unyielding adherence to the most stringent positions in halachah, according to which one may not accept conversions of these immigrants, even at the price of creating thousands of mixed marriages between Jews and Gentiles.

There is a known and accepted principle in the world of Jewish law that under pressing circumstances, one may rely upon a minority opinion. It seems that there could be no greater pressing circumstance or emergency than the current situation! Moreover, there is no need to rely on isolated or obscure opinions but rather there is ample and prevalent precedent in Jewish law for a more permissive approach.

Ultra-Orthodox who adopt the strict approach are apparently unconcerned about the demographic disaster of assimilation. According to them, intermarriage is a phenomenon only in the secular society, and they can therefore can absolve themselves by saying "its not our problem.”  However, those who are concerned for the future of Israel as a Jewish state cannot remain indifferent to the present situation that is developing before our eyes. In only a few years from now, we will split into two separate peoples. Both will be Israelis, Hebrew speakers, and self-identified as Jewish, but only one will be technically and halakhically Jewish.

As important as issues such as kashrut, Shabbat and religious services are, there is currently no Jewish communal matter that comes close to approaching the significance of this challenge upon which our future here as a Jewish state rests.  We must admit and say honestly, the current Chief Rabbinate (with all due respect to the many fine individuals who make up its ranks), as an institution, has neither the desire nor the ability to cope with this challenge. Unfortunately, it buries its head in the sand, and even kowtows to the Chareidi community, which is ambivalent at best, and antagonistic at worst to the very state the Rabbinate is meant to serve.

Despite the pain and difficulty involved in breaking with this institution that we had great dreams for, I hereby call upon the lay people and the Rabbis of the religious-Zionist community to say openly what many of us have already felt in our hearts for some time. The Chief Rabbinate has run its course.