Rabbi's Blog

I wrote a quick post on Friday before Shabbat and another on Sunday morning, each reflecting different components of  my extraordinary visit to this special and hurting place. They are below with the most recent first. Truthfully, the second post came from a slight misunderstanding and refers to a comment that was not actually there, that refers to Jerusalem as a “sad and crazy place.” It is that, but it is so, so much more too!.  There has been more violence today with the death of a young woman in another horrific stabbing as the grief is so raw for the victims of last week.  In Friday, an 18 year old American yeshiva student from Sharon, Mass, Ezra Schwartz, who was delivering food to soldiers, was killed along with an Israeli and a Palestinian in shooting in the West Bank.   It is excruciating.  At the beginning of this week’s Torah reading, we again see our hero Jacob on his journey and, alone in his fear of facing his brother and his army, he wrestles all night long with an angel.  Traditions vary as to the identity of this unearthly being.  Perhaps it is the angel of the enemy and perhaps demons within Jacob, but the struggle itself is so real and so exhausting and as day breaks, Jacob demands a blessing.  Can anything good come from this endless wrestling with those who want to hurt us and with the shadow that we need to confront within ourselves?  We will have to wait until the dawn to see.

Sunday November 22nd

It is Sunday morning and I am sitting outside a cafe on Emek Refaim, the bustling heart of the German Colony in Jerusalem.  The joyful sounds of children in a playground across the street and the traffic of everyday life are the sound track and the sun sparkling off that omnipresent white stone that is the shining jewel of this beautiful, magical city is the visual backdrop. Even though times are hard, or perhaps because times are so hard, life really does go on here in a fairly normal way; people are drinking coffee and living their very full lives in this bustling, holy city. I am aware that my message before Shabbat was received by some as a little too dark, signing off from “this sad and crazy place” and the picture is so much fuller than that.  What an unbelievable gift it is to be here in this land that I love so much and to drink in its splendor and its glory and to reconnect with such special people.

Many Boulderites remember the wonderful Paller family and the Kagans and Ahuva and, of course, Bruce Shaffer!  Well, I got to see all of them over Shabbat and we celebrated and laughed and ate great food and reflected on the “situation” that can be temporarily transcended, but never left behind.  I love this place and cherish every moment, which is why I feel the existential anguish so deeply. There is real fear about the present and the future, but there is also a tenacity and resilience that gives everyone the resolve to carry on, to continue to expect miracles in the land of miracles, to light Hanukkah candles in a couple of weeks with pride and joy and a determination not just to survive, but to thrive. We have been here before.  Maybe it is different and maybe it is exactly the same, but there is so much depth and power here that penetrates souls.

I do feel committed in the short time that I am here to meet as many people as I can on all sides of the conflict; to listen, to try to understand; to observe and witness what is happening here and, if I can, in a tiny way, to help and to participate in the unfolding drama of this place, HaMakom hazeh.  Tonight, I was invited to join in a small peace circle of Jews, Christians and Muslims in Beit Jalla, an Arab town just outside Jerusalem, but it has been canceled for security reasons.  It is sad that some of these little initiatives towards peace are further victims of the violence, but understandable too.  In Colorado, we say “if you don’t like the weather, wait 10 minutes.”  In Israel, emotions change constantly; in one hour we might experience ecstatic joy, fear, anger, sadness and disgust.  Oh, those are the characters in Inside Out, aren’t they?  Bruce Shaeffer warned me about writing precisely because what I am feeling in one moment will be replaced by something very different in the next.  It is all true, all present right here.

And now, I am going to leave this cafe and this computer screen and go an experience the magnificence and fullness of this beautiful city.

Many blessings to all!
Rabbi Marc

Friday November 20th

I am writing this very quickly from Jerusalem as Shabbat is almost here in these short and difficult days.  I intend to write a longer blog early next week as I have had more time to process an extremely intense day and a half.  The mood here is not good, not hopeful and yet life goes on and still contains the fragile beauty and magic of this extraordinary piece of land and I feel so privileged to be here and there is nothing higher than Shabbat in Jerusalem, even amidst the chaos and pain.

I had an intense, but friendly conversation on the plane over here with Gershon, a very religious Jew from Brooklyn coming with his wife to spend just a few days in Jerusalem where their son who is in Yeshiva.  His love of Torah, God and the Jewish people was very moving to me and, as a child of survivors, his passionate arguments for Israel are very compelling and real.  As they are for me too. Gershon, however, did not have the conversation I had today with a Palestinian taxi driver, full of fear and sadness, nor did he have the experience of hearing a Palestinian journalist who runs Maan News Agency, nor with Hamed Qawasmeh from the UN Office for the Organization of Humanitarian Affairs (OCHA), nor with Sam Bahor, a Palestinian blogger and businessman from Ramallah, all non-violent activists with many stories on the ground that are very hard to hear, shared as part of an Encounter trip in Beit Jalla, just outside Bethlehem that I joined for the day.

Just an hour ago I spoke to Rabbi Hanan Shlesinger, who many of us know from the Shorashim/Roots/Judur peace initiative, who was meeting with his partner Ali Abu Awad when they heard the shots just outside their door that killed the resident of Alon Shvut along with two others, an Israeli, a Palestinian and an American all killed indiscriminately in the same brutal attack. The funerals this morning were attended by 1000s.  Hanan told me with such sadness that most people are advising them that their work of building bridges between Israeli settlers and Palestinians should be put on hold for now, while the climate is so tense. He disagrees.

I go into Shabbat feeling an unbelievable mixture of emotions, from joy and gratitude to be here and an intense and real sadness for all that is going on, as we continue to witness the ongoing slaughter of brothers and sisters that started in the stories that we are reading right now in our Torah.  Fleeing from his brother Esau, Jacob lays down on some rocks and has an incredible dream of a ladder with angels ascending and descending, at the beginning of this week’s parsha.  I cannot go into Shabbat feeling despair, but I hang on to a notion that we can collectively turn this nightmare into a dream guided by angels, whether in human or inhuman forms.  I am excited be here to absorb, to listen and to reunite with wonderful friends and family in this land of dreams, many of them broken, but none lost.  More soon….

Shabbat Shalom
Rabbi Marc