From Tzfat to Tours

My time in Tzfat is over.  The last day,  I had my 7:30 am Chasidut class on Tzitzit with Rabbi Pasternack, followed by 9:15 Shacharit, and 10:30 breakfast.  I finished Chronicles for the second time (I understood it better this time) on my own, then had my Gemara class with Rav Asi (I'm really, really going to miss that guy); we even managed to finish the Sugya (on taking the law into one's own hands), and in time for Halacha class with Rabbi Gorenstein (I realize that I will need to know how to make Kiddush by myself if I can't find a Jewish community in France).  Rav Asi took down my e-mail address, in order to answer the three perplexing questions I had hit him with during our learning today. We had an early Minchah, I made the fastest goodbyes possible, then I was packed and on the bus to Acco (called "Acre" in the Middle Ages), with a couple of apricots in my backpack, by 2:40 pm.  Some people seemed genuinely sorry to see me go; I'm not sure how sincere everyone was, but it was a nice effort, and I left with a jingling palmful of shliach money.  (Many people, throughout my stay at Tzfat, told me that they wanted to see me stay for another year, although I suspect that different people had different motives for telling me this.)  I walked to the bus stop, taking my last look at primordial Tzfat, and found the bus just about to leave -- I had to pay my 30 shekels and stagger to a seat with the bus already in motion.

The bus ride through the Galilee was beautiful, although the roads were bumpy, curvy, and uneven.  It's just as well: with such amazing views of the mountains on every side, I think that a book would have diverted my eyes from seeing Israel.  I don't think I've ever seen so many orchards in my life: at this time of year, Israel really does look like a garden in bloom.  Thousands of years ago, there were Jewish olive presses and olive orchards in this region (archaeologists have found the ruins): now, they've returned.  There was a lot less Rebbe Nachman graffiti in ancient times, though.

I arrived in Acco about an hour later.  The lower compartment where I kept my suitcase did not open, and the bus began to drive off with my suitcase, but it was flagged down, and I retrieved my luggage, no worries.  I walked to the train station, just across the street from the bus stop, and thought about Acre, the site of so much bloodshed during the Crusades.  I paid 49 shekels for a direct ticket to Tel-Aviv airport, ate my apricots (it was 4:00 by this time), and waited about 15 minutes.  There was at least one of group Israeli soldiers riding on the train, to and from I know not wear.  They looked as if they might have been going home: I hope so, for their sake.  I think that I'm going to miss seeing Israeli soldiers.  I spent most of the train ride reading Plato's Republic (from my Kindle), which was, by and large, what I read throughout this particular journey (I also had my Tanakh with me, which takes significantly more concentration, a resource short in supply in transit).  I know that I am not the first to make the connection, but there are a lot of parallels between the ways Plato and Chasidut describe the human soul.  In Phaedrus, Plato (through the mouth of Socrates, of course) describes the soul as a two-horsed chariot, each horse in constant contention with the other; in Book IV of the Republic, he argues that the soul's components "are two, and that they differ from one another; the one with which a man reasons, we may call the rational principle of the soul; the other, with which he loves and hungers and thirsts and feels the flutterings of any other desire, may be termed the irrational or appetitive, the ally of sundry pleasures and satisfactions."  For those of you who haven't had Tanya courses five nights a week, the Alter Rebbe likewise described Jewish people as possessing two souls, the Animal and the Godly: the former is basal, tied to physicality, and addicted to worldly pleasures; the second is motivated by love of God, and is the spark of divinity within every Jewish person.  The human soul as a whole, therefore, he describes as a small city, over which two kings are battling.

The train ride made the distance from Tzfat feel all of a sudden very real, and, despite the resemblances in Plato to Chasidut, I felt as if I was coming up for air out of a long and difficult dive, one of the real lung-crushers (help me here, Travis).  Not all men were wearing kippot, and were reading books other than Talmuds: not all women were wearing headscarves and long-sleeved long dresses.  I got some good reading done.

I arrived at the airport a around 15 hours before my flight was scheduled to take off: I was prepared to spend the night in the airport.  I ended up meeting a man waiting for his fiance's delayed flight (made me think about Judah), spent the last of my shekels on nourishment, and ended up passing out while reading, sometime around 1:00 am.  On Amazon, I had found a free Kindle eBook about Rashi, written in 1906, which I decided to begin (I got around 20% through it).  A passage in the preface nearly made me switch back to the Republic immediately: it began with the dated and unpropitious observation that "no people has greater need than the Jews to steep itself again in the sources of its existence... Scattered over the face of the globe, no longer constituting a body politic, the Jewish people by cultivating its intellectual patrimony creates for itself an ideal fatherland... But the Jewish people, its national life crushed out of it, though deprived of all political ambitions..." etc.  I looked up from my book, and saw three Israeli flags snapping in the weekend, outside, by the landing path.  I smiled, and read the first two chapters.

It was chilly in the airport, and I'm glad that I had the red hoodie from Andrew and Allison in which to wrap myself for warmth.  Just before 6:00 am, I staggered over to the El Al registration, where I signed in (I got hit with more security questions, but they weren't nearly as difficult as those I had answered when entering Israel).  I checked my suitcase, went through security that didn't even require that I remove my shoes, and even found my way to the Beit Knesset (they were in the middle of P'sukei D'zimra, and I managed to catch up to them by Yishtabach).  I only mention this because, it being Monday morning, this was my last opportunity to have an aliyah in Israel: I wasn't chosen (the odds were against me), but I'm still a little bit disappointed that, after nearly three weeks, I haven't had a single Torah honor.  Perhaps I'm just spoiled at Cornell, where a week doesn't go by without me touching or carrying the Torah Scroll.

The plane to Paris was tightly-packed, and I sat next to a French couple in their 60s.  Throughout the flight, I was trapped in a slicha/pardonnez-moi/excuse me grey zone, where I didn't know what to tell people whom I unintentionally smacked.  Usually, I just mumbled, and that worked out well enough. I read, and though my body really wanted to sleep, I didn't let it.  It was a smooth, pleasant flight.  We arrived just around noon, local time.  I had my passport stamped, grabbed my baggage (without even stopping to state "rien á déclarer"), and ran off to the train station at Charles de Gaulle airport.  It seemed that my French has not sufficiently deteriorated in the past six months so much that I cannot understand or make myself understood, although I still have problems with translating numbers.

I took the train to Saint-Pierre-des-Corps: the ticket cost me (or, more properly, cost the Einaudi Center) 65 Euros.  I took the 5-minute train to Tours, and found myself back in a town I recognized.  Walking up the Rue Nationale, the main street of the city, I saw that little had changed since I first arrived in the town, around 11 months ago.  There was still construction in all of the places that I remembered, and in a few places I didn't remember.  Finally, around 5:30, I arrived at the youth hostel, signed in for a week's worth of room, board, and Internet, and went out to buy food, soap, and napkins.  I found some general guidelines for eating kosher in Europe, and it looks as if baguettes are safe (thank goodness), now that I'm trying to keep by more stringent guidelines.  I took a much-needed shower, ate dinner, chatted with my Mother and Rayleigh on Facebook, and with Eli on Skype.

And I'm available to chat with the rest of you, too, now!  I have a microphone and headphones, and am living in a building where my own voice will not be overheard!  If you want to speak, please, let me know, give me a time, and we can communicate!

~JD

"He whose nature is amorous of anything cannot help loving all that belongs or is akin to the object of his affections" (Plato, Republic).

Tzfat Economics

Just time for a short reflection on something I've noticed, living in the poorest city in Israel.
There's a very different sort of work schedule for most people around here.  As I mentioned, the men at the synagogue where I study don't pray until 9:15 or so.  Some of them are employed at ordinary businesses, but can apparently make time in their work schedules for morning prayer.  Others, especially the older men, are professional Torah scholars: they study all day long, and the state supports them.  At least one other, in his 20s, is in a one-year period following his marriage, in which he learns Torah full-time, and the state supports him.  With his government paycheck, he can afford expensive clothes, plenty of good food, and rent, for himself and for his wife.
Those who are employed, at least, in commerce, have very short work hours.  Stores tend to close at around 2:00 pm here, may be closed all afternoon on Fridays and (for some reason) Tuesdays.  Today, Friday, at around 10:15 am, I visited the post office, and it was already closed for the weekend, even though the schedule posted outside indicated that it should have been open.
All of the Rabbis whose homes I have visited have large houses, well-furnished, and with large libraries.  The Chabad House can afford to give large public meals, with copious vodka, on Saturdays.
The question is: with apparently so little work being done, where is all of this money coming from, and why isn't there more obvious poverty?  There are poor people here, but they're as much a part of the community as anyone else; the only difference is that they need to borrow Tefillin, and go around the synagogue and Beit Midrash asking for money (which they always receive).
This reminds me of an article I read a couple of years ago, on the Washington Post website.  I can no longer find it, but the poorest community of 100 or more people, in the United States, is an ultra-orthodox Jewish community just outside of New York City.  All of the shop signs are in Yiddish, most of the women don't have jobs, all the men spend their days studying Torah.  Everyone has enough to eat and to wear, though, because everyone shares necessary articles (strollers, etc), especially the wealthier community members.
Is this how Tzfat remains statistically poor, yet apparently well-off?  Does Tzfat just run on state money (and how do taxpayers who are secular Jews feel about supporting Torah scholars and Yeshiva students)?  Does it run on endowments from affluent Jews who want Tzfat to have a functioning Jewish community?  I don't know.
Shabbat Shalom!

~JD

"אדם מועד לעולם
בין שוגג בין מזיד
בין ער בין ישן"

[A person is always liable to cause damages -- whether unintentionally or intentionally, whether waking or sleeping] (Bava Kama 2:4).

Typical Day at Tzemach Tzedek

So, it's about time that I gave some kind of description of my daily schedule.  Here's a sample, using this Tuesday as fairly typical (actually, better than many).  Now that Rabbi Eli is gone, I'm spending less time in Shiurim with him, and more time with other Rabbis, at least in terms of classes.

By the way, I've tried to attach links to any unusual terminology I may have used without thinking.  They links are for you, George, in case you're reading this.

6:50 -- Got out of bed, performed morning necessities, and left for the Beit Midrash.  I thought that we had Chasidut class this morning, but because of the Fabrengen that kept everyone up until 1:00 or 2:00 last night, we didn't.  So I continued to read from my Tanakh, finishing the final chapters of Chronicles, and reading some more Psalms, including what might be one of my favorites, 119.

9:00 -- Shacharit in the Synagogue.  Chabad takes a really long time for prayer, so I had enough time to actually say every part of P'sukei D'zimra, which is very unusual for me.  I needed to wait for my friend Yosi to finish, so I waited for everyone to finish, which didn't happen until nearly 10:40 (I wonder if community members have problems with their employers, because they can't realistically make it to work until 11:00, and I see them in the Beit Midrash at the middle of the day).  I kept on reading Psalms, and made it to 145, Ashrei.

10:40 -- Left the Synagogue with Yosi, who showed me the way to the bank and the post office.  I needed to withdraw money (I only had 8 shekels left -- sorry, parents, but I'm trying to be financially responsible!).  I then went to the post office to mail four postcards, to Eliezer's bookstore to buy four more, and back to the dormitory for a breakfast of some porridge with fruit.  On the way back to the dorms, I saw a very upsetting incident on the street.  However, it could just have been because of cultural differences in Israel and the U.S. that I found it so upsetting.

11:15 -- I arrived back at the Beit Midrash, in time for Gemara lesson with Rav Asi.  Not everyone was on time, and I have the chance to ask Rabbi Pasternack about the event on the street, and what I might or might not have been obligated to do under such circumstances.  In class, the course got caught up in some pilpul.  We're looking at a dispute between Rabbi Yehuda and Rabbi Nachman, in tractate Bava Kama, over the circumstances under which a person may take the law into his own hands (in my opinion, a very important question).  Pretty much, the two agree that a person should always defend his property when it's in immediate danger, but they tried to search for a certain case in which there was clearly no immediate danger, in order to resolve the dispute.  (According to my reading of the text, there's actually a third opinion, held by Rabbi Chisda, that a person may under no circumstances defend his property out of court, but he's clearly in a 2-to-1 minority.)  Today, because one student and Rav Asi got in a dispute over the mathematics of logic, in relationship to a Baraita.  I now know this Baraita all too well.  Here is a paraphrase: If a man sees his neighbor's ox getting on top of his own ox in order to gore it, and he pulls his ox out from under it, and the other ox falls and dies as a result, then he is exempt from payment; but if (under the same circumstances) he pushed his neighbor's ox off of his ox, and his ox died, then he is liable for payment.  In any case, the argument lasted so long that we missed our Halachah class with Rabbi Gorenstein, which typically lasts from 1:00 until 1:30, in which we're learning the laws of making Kiddush on Friday nights.  (I'm hoping that we'll get to the issue of the validity of grape juice, which a very good friend of mine has questioned, and which I therefore would like to know more about.)

1:30 -- Minchah.  Done and done.

1:50-2:50 -- Read Kitzur Shulchan Aruch on hurtful speech (cursing, insulting,etc) with Ben.  Ordinarily, we would have instead reviewed Gemara together, but because of today's lack of progress, we never got very far in class, so we read the Halachic work instead.  We are learning, for instance, that one may not misdirect people in commerce, call someone by an insulting nickname even if that nickname has become thoroughly attached to him or her, ask someone a difficult question to which one knows the respondent does not know the answer, or insistently invite one's neighbor to one's house.

2:50-4:15 -- Read the book of Jeremiah with Ari, alternating by chapter, with some discussion.  Got through chapters 5-16, or so, I think.  Visions, prophecies, denunciations, false prophets, corrupt monarchs, idolatry, Babylonians at the gate -- all in a day's work.  I'm glad to be returning to this prophetical book; in fact, I think that I should really go back and review all of the Former Prophets, and then the three Major Prophets.  In other words, I have a lot of homework to do!

4:15-6:30 -- Two back-to-back classes with Rav Asi.  The first one was on relating certain Psalms to certain events in King David's life, with relevant midrashim, etc.; today, the topic was David's annointment as king.  The second class is based on a sicha by the Rebbe on spiritual challenges.

6:30-7:40 -- Cross-referenced in Bava Mezia 58b-59a of passages from Kitzur Shulchan Aruch with Ben.  We learned some interesting things.  Also, I finished the book of Psalms, and tried my best to continue reading Mishnah Bava Kama, reviewing legal responsibility for damage caused by one's livestock's feet (and, by extension, all damage caused by animals' general movements, excluding eating and deliberate attacking).  I'm doing my best to understand as much as possible of each Mishnah in Hebrew; Rabbinic Hebrew, at least in this tractate, tends to be both very simple and very repetitive.  I really like the Kahati edition that I'm using (recommend to me by both Eli and Peninah), which includes a brief summary of the associated Gemara and other famous interpretations, in order to give the reader some idea of the classical understanding of the Mishnah.

7:40-9:00 -- Two back-to-back classes with Rabbi Gorenstein.  The first is on Tanya, continuing with chapter 12.  The second I didn't really understand, we became so sidetracked, but it was more Chasidut.

9:00 -- Ben and I run back to quickly eat dinner, of vegetable soup, with some cold salad.  We walk back with Dovid.

9:30 -- Ma'ariv.  Done and done.

10:20 -- Back at the dorm, in time for my least favorite part of the day: e-mail and other computing.  I have a huge pile I need to answer every day, and I don't even have time to write certain important ones.  I also wrote all of the last post, and most of this one, too.

2:30 -- Bed, really tired, by now.

~JD

כיצד השן מועדת לאכול את הראוי לה"
הבהמה מועדת לאכול פרות וירקות
"אכלה כסות או כלים משלם חצי נזק


[In what case is the tooth (of the animal) fully liable (for the damage it causes)?  For eating what is natural for it.  The beast is fully liable in regards to eating fruits and vegetables. (For) eating a garment or utensils, (the owner) pays for half of the damages] (Bava Kama 2:2).

Weekend in Jerusalem

Friday morning, the other students, Rabbi Eli, and I took a bus to Jerusalem.  On the way to the bus-stop, we stopped at two sites, the tombs of the Arizal and of Shimon bar Yochai.  On the bus, I re-read the book of Ezra-Nechemiah from the pocket Tanakh that I obtained last week (see last entry).  We arrived in Jerusalem at just past noon, and moved into our rooms in the Mayanot Yeshiva in Jerusalem, and met the full-time students there, most of whom were very friendly, and very easy to meet.  I felt as if I could have stayed there several weeks, feeling very much at home.  While the other students with Rabbi Eli visited the marketplace or the Mount of Olives, Alex helped guide me to where I was supposed to meet one of my favorite people living in Israel right now!
After we got a little bit mixed-up and turned around in the Jerusalem market, we found Peninah!  Alex stayed with us for a while, while we walked around a little bit more in the marketplace, making our way to the bus station, because Peninah was leaving Jerusalem that evening.  We had some conversations that we needed to have, and she reminded me of why I'm in Israel.  She really re-ignited my enthusiasm in learning, and I know that the next week in Israel will be just fine, now, thanks to her.
I felt really great after I spoke to her, and walked back to Mayanot happy, and barely got lost at all on the way.  I studied more and took a shower, until Minchah-Kabbalat Shabbat-Maariv.  Everyone at Mayanot really loves and respects Rabbi Eli, who has taught there for some time.  At Shabbat dinner (which he apparently sponsored), he spoke at length about the history of European Jewry.  I stayed up late learning, and got to bed fairly late.
Saturday morning, I panicked when I saw light flowing through the window of my bedroom; I thought that it was nine or ten, and that I had missed my Chasidut lesson at 7:30.  It was actually 6:00, but I was fully awake, and so I went to the Beit Midrash to read Mishneh Torah, to resolve a disagreement I had had the night before.  Rabbi Eli was also up early, but nobody else showed up for the lesson on time, so I got some more reading in.  Anyway, Rabbi Eli spoke well in class, as he did later, to everyone, at our very late second meal.  There was almost no vegetarian food, and having little else to consume, I had a fair amount of wine, and got rather sleepy.  I spent most of the rest of the day reading Mayanot's copy of the Judaica Press edition of the first part of the book of Chronicles.  It was a Saturday well spent, with copious amounts of cocoa and learning.
Sunday morning, before we left, I had time to visit a tallit store, and buy myself a new tallit from the bargain bin.  Someone in Tzfat had objected to the length of my tallit (it covered me fully at my Bar Mitzvah, but it's gradually gotten shorter and shorter on me, and it's now several centimeters too short for my height).  It's 60cm long, and someone of my size only needs a 48cm-long tallit, according to a stringent opinion, so I no longer have any reason to fear criticism (even Hillel, who is Charedi, has told me that he thought that my old tallit was long enough).
At around 11:00, we met up with Prof. Ben Artzi again, who was ready to take us on a tour of the region around Jericho, stopping at a few other sites on the way.  Our first stop was Mount Scopus, a hill overlooking Jerusalem, which I recognized mostly from having read Josephus.  However, it's also where the Tanakh (Bible) describes King David as having stopped to mourn, on his flight from Jerusalem, during the rebellion of his son (though it was then called the Mount of Olives, when it was still covered with olive trees): "David was going up on the ascent of [the Mount of] Olives, crying as he ascended, with his head covered, going barefoot.  And all the people with him wrapped their heads and went up, crying as they ascended" (Samuel II 15:30-31).  Prof. Ben-Artzi also pointed out the low-lying region, in sight of Scopus, where the book goes on to describe a man cursing "King David came until Bahurim, and behold -- a man of Saul's family was coming out from there, named Shimei sone of Gera, and he was cursing as he was coming out.  He pelted David and all of King David's servants with stones, as well  as all the people and the soldiers, to his right and to his left" (ibid. 16:5-6).
Our next stop was the site of one of my favorite Haftorot, that of Parshah Behar (the full reading is Jeremiah 32:6-27), the Bat Mitzvah portion of one of my favorite people (see above)!  Pretty much, the prophet was in prison, and his cousin Chanamel wanted to liquidate all of his property before the Babylonians arrived to destroy it all.  And the prophet received a command to buy his plot of land, in Anatot; he then takes the title deed, and has it placed in a jar.  Well, we sat in Anatot, and looked down on a valley, with some of the best farmland in the region.  It was really a beautiful spot.
The next Jewish site on our winding path to Jericho was where archaeologists believe that ancient Gilgal was located.  Gilgal, in the book of Joshua, was the location where the Tabernacle was first set up, after the people had crossed into the land: "The people ascended from the Jordan on the tenth of the first month, and encamped at Gilgal at the eastern end of Jericho" (Joshua 4:19).  There is a Greek Orthodox church located there now (it's also a Christian holy site, because of an incident involving a Roman soldier climbing a tree).  The Biblical description mentions a spring at Gilgal, and the site we visited is the only known spring in the region.  The site is also close to where the Ark's crossing of the Jordan is believed to have taken place (see below), and there is also a local oral tradition identifying this site with biblical Gilgal.
It was getting into late afternoon by this point, and the heat was quite intense, in the Israeli desert.  We stopped at a pomegranate farm, where an Israeli woman is reclaiming wilderness, albeit illegally.  From her home, we began walking into the desert, towards the nearby Jordan river.  We passed close to the caves where it is believed that Elijah the prophet hid with Elisha, and were probably in sight of where the book of Kings describes his ascent to heaven.  As we approached the Jordan, we saw the golden dome of a mosque on the banks, where local tradition locates the exact place of the Jews' crossing.  We also saw a green patch on the mountains on the other side of the river (i.e. in Jordan itself), where local tradition is held that Moses died (not where he was buried, though), and the site of the fourth and last covenant of the Torah.  This is also where he spoke the words of the book of Deuteronomy.  Eventually, we arrived at the rocky hill Professor Ben-Artzi believes to be Giv'at-Ha'aralot.  What exactly is this place?  Well...
"At that time Hashem said to Joshua, 'Make sharp knives [or "flint knives," char'vot tzurim] for yourself and circumcise the Children of Israel again, a second time.'  So Joshua made sharp knives for himself and circumcise the Children of Israel at Giv'at Ha'arlot [Hill of the Foreskins]" (Joshua 5:2-3).
The hill we stood on lies directly between Gilgal and the site of the crossing of the Jordan.  Moreover, it is the only hill in all the region which has the stone which some archaeologists associate with tzur, which is sharp enough to make an effective cutting tool.  Some of these stones we found were sharp, like arrowheads in the United States.
We dropped off Professor Ben-Artzi, drove back to Jerusalem, and parted ways.  Rabbi Eli left to make his way to the airport, because he's leaving the country; the remaining students and I waited for the bus back to Tzfat; it finally arrived, and we were back in Tzfat by around 10:30.
I'm thinking of you all!  I mean that!  I can't skype with any privacy here, but I'll be able to when I'm in Tours!

~JD

"Rabbi Chelbo said: One must always observe the honor due to his wife, because blessings rest on a man's home only on account of his wife, for it is written And he treated Abram well for her sake (Genesis 12:16).  And thus did Raba say to the townspeople of Machuza, honor your wives, that you may be enriched" (Bava Metzia 59a).

Eliezer's Bookstore

I'm beginning this post at 1:15 am, having just come back from a weekend in Jerusalem.  I don't have enough time to describe that now, so for now, I'm just going to tell an amusing story from last week.
Although I have a copy of my own Tanakh at home, which I received at my Bar Mitzvah, it was too large and heavy for me to take with me on the trip; furthermore, it's English-only, and although the translation is excellent (JPS), and I've decided that I really need a parallel Hebrew-English edition.
So, I asked my friend Yosi where I could find a Judaica bookstore with books in English.  He directed me to Yerushalmi Street, and after some wandering, including into a visit to the wrong shop where I found a really excellent gift for someone back home (for only four shekels!), I made my way to Eliezer's Bookstore.  It's run by a man only a few years older than me, along with his father.  When I walked in (the store was only about the size of my family's living room, minus the piano), the former asked me if I had come to pick up a book on reserve.  I hadn't, and asked for some help looking for a Hebrew-English Tanakh.  The store was too small to have anything more than the Artscroll Stone Edition, which you can pretty much find anywhere.  Unfortunately, there were no pocket-sized editions, only the large hardcover version.  It turned out, however, that the book on reserve was a paperback Stone Edition!  It was the only copy, though, and the man told his father they needed to order more copies, and told me that if the book hadn't been picked up by 2:00 pm that afternoon, I was free to buy it.  Willing to wait a few hours, I walked back to the dormitory.  I did, however, buy a few postcards, which I hope will arrive back in the U.S. over the next couple of weeks.
Adam and Ben had come back from buying fruit and bread in the market, and when I walked into the kitchen, they asked me if I had picked up the book at bookstore. It turns out that Adam had actually found Eliezer's Bookstore first, and, knowing that I was searching for a Hebrew-English Tanakh, he had reserved the only pocket edition in the store for me!  So the book on reserve had been for me all along!  I ran back to the store, bought the book, laughingly explained the whole chain of events to the father, and headed off to class.
OK, expect information about Jerusalem and Jericho the next time I update!

~JD

From Ithaca to Tzfat

I realize that this post occurs chronologically before the previous post.  However, my journey is, I think, important and interesting to understanding where I am right now, and what I am doing.

I got out of bed at 3:15 last Wednesday afternoon; my Mother and I drove and picked up Rabbi Eli at his house, and the three of us drove together to the Syracuse airport.  We easily made our 6:00 flight to JFK, and I slept for the whole hour we were in the sky.  We had several hours before our flight for Israel left, and Rabbi Eli wanted to daven Shacharit, so we took a taxi to the closest Chabad House, which happened to be the Ohel.  We fulfilled our obligation, I read a little bit of the book that Rav Ami and Eliana had recommended to me, and we met a couple of Israelis who were also driving to JFK, and so they drove us.

Back in JFK, we met up with Adam (the only other student whom I already knew), and passed through the tightest security I have ever encountered, for El-Al airlines.  Because I can't speak Hebrew, the guards didn't trust me, and asked me a series of questions that only a Jewish person would know, such as "what was the most recent holiday, and how did you celebrate it?" and "what is your Hebrew name?"  At least half of the other passengers were Charedi.  On the plane flight, I met Ben (another Cornell student) and Alex (an Ithaca College graduate), finished Josephus's Jewish War (which I had begun on Birthright), read most of The Thirteen-Petaled Rose, and slept about an hour or two.  We touched down at what must have been four or five o'clock in the morning, local time, in Tel-Aviv.  We stumbled outside, and all of us hopped into the car of the elderly Chabad driver, Eli, from Tzfat, who tells me that he lived for a couple of years in Monsey, New York.  He played a CD of Chabad tunes very loudly on our three-hour journey to Tzfat.  I read as much as I could without

On the way, we decided to make a detour to Tiberias, to Rambam's gravesite.  You can't miss the curving metal monument from the road, and Avishai had pointed it out to us when my Birthright trip drove through Tiberias.  There were groups of people standing around and reciting the book of psalms around his grave, and around other nearby stone tombs, which bore the names of other famous Jewish sages, including some Tannaim, such as Yochanan ben Zakai.  Rabbi Eli was kind (and passionate enough) to translate some of the signboards describing Rambam's life and works.  (Today's quote is in his honor.)  Still awake, we arrived at Tzfat before noon, and met the Rabbis at the Tzemach Tzedek Yeshiva where we'll be staying.  I began to meet the other students, and we luckily had arrived in time to attend the last couple of classes for the day, Rabbi Pasternack and Rabbi Gorenstein both teaching classes, and Rabbi Eli sitting down with me, and trying to prompt my Hebrew, which is quite feeble.  I'm sorry to say that I began to fall asleep in front of Rabbi Gorenstein, but previous conversations with him make me think that he didn't take it to hard.  I refused to take a nap all day long, and eventually went to bed at 9:30 at night, local time.  I was very happy when I finally got into bed!

OK, more adventures next time.  You are all great people!  Also, please e-mail me or send me private message on FB for details, questions, or anything else.

~JD

"[Jewish men] are commanded to acquire a wife before marrying her: either by giving her something [of sufficient value]; by giving her a document [of marriage]; or by having marital relations... only marriage by means of relations has the validity of a Torah commandment" (Rambam, Sefer HaMitzvot, Positive Commandment 213).

Beit-El & Shiloh

I'd like to preface my adventures in Tzfat with Rav Ami's prediction that I'd be "running around Israel like a drunken gazelle."  Although I haven't achieved this kind of euphoria yet, I am doing my best to enjoy myself.
We made our first archaeological outing on Sunday!  We got up early (well, not quite as early as we were supposed to), and drove to pick up Professor Chaggai Ben Artzi.  Just so everyone knows, "we" is five other students (Adam, Ben, Shmuel, Jordan, and Pinchas), Rabbi Eli, the driver (also named Eli), and I.  Professor Ben Artzi is an Israeli archaeologist, and happens to be Benjamin Netanyahu's brother-in-law.

Our first stop was Beit-El, located in the West Bank.  The interest in this site arises from the belief that it was here that Jacob had his famous nighttime vision of angels ascending and descending, and God's promise of the land to his offspring, whom He will not abandon.  The narrative concludes with the statement that "Jacob arose early in the morning, and he took the stone that he had placed at his head, and he set it up as a monument, and he poured oil on top of it.  And he named the place Beth El, but Luz was originally the name of the city" (Genesis 28:18-19).

There is a funny-shaped rocky outcropping in the shape of a bed (for an eight-foot-tall person), which has a long oral tradition among local Arabs as being the rock on which Jacob slept, and even the name of the site, in Arabic, sounds like a corruption of "Beit-El."  There seems to have been a history of Abrahamic religions treating this as a holy site: there is an incredibly old mosque on the site (7th- or 8th-century), as well as a Christian church.  For several hundred years, people have considered this as a holy site.

More interesting than the rock itself (in my opinion) is the nearby ruin of a temple-like structure, several thousand years old.  The dimensions match those of the Tabernacle described in the book of Exodus, and there is an altar with the bones of kosher animals (archaeologists can often find evidence for Jewish presence in the absence of pig bones).  This is especially interesting, because the Tanakh mentions the erection of a Temple in Beit-El, following the division of David's kingdom of Israel into the northern kingdom of Israel and the southern kingdom of Judah: "the king [of Israel, Yirovam] took counsel and made two golden calves, and he said to them, saying, 'It is far for you to go up to Jerusalem; here are your gods, O Israel, that have brought you up from the land of Egypt.'  And he placed one in Beth El and the other he placed in Dan" (Kings I 12:28-29).  (I visited the ruins of the temple in Dan on Birthright: it is located in one of the most beautiful places in Israel.)  The ruin dates from the correct period, and, rather than pointing towards Jerusalem, it is oriented to the nearby tomb, as one might expect a sanctuary to point towards a holy place.  Nearby are the ruins of a factory for the production of olive oil, presumably made for the lighting of the menorah in Yirovam's temple.  Furthermore, there are Jewish burial caves dating from the Second Temple era, another sign that the site might have been considered to be holy.

In other words, the tradition of Beit-El as being the site of Jacob's dream may go back as far as the era of the divided kingdoms in Israel.  However, one could easily say, for instance, that upon entering the land, the Israelites happened across a bed-shaped rock, and guessed that it was in that place where their ancestor had had his dream.  However, the evidence for the presence of the temple, in my opinion, is much firmer.

Back in our car, we drove off to Shiloh, not far from Beit-El.  Whereas there was nothing more relevant to tourism in Beit-El than a simple sign, there was a gift-shop and some basic facilities at Shiloh, the city where the the Tabernacle first rested.  It was here that the prophet Samuel worked for the high priest Eli, and where Saul, before he became king, brought news of a Philistine victory.  There are ruins old houses, and ruins of a temple, again with the dimensions of the Tabernacle found in the book of Exodus.  Professor Ben Artzi, pointing to the black tarpaulin that covered part of the site, stated that he believed that it was there that Hannah stood and prayed for a child, and where Eli rebuked her.  The conception and birth of the prophet are one of my favorite parts of the entire Tanakh, but for better or worse, I could not be so certain of the exact place.

Our last Biblical site of the day was to Mount Kabir, site of one of Abram's altars to God (Genesis 12:6).  There is a 4000-year-old oak tree, Elon Moreh (אֵלוֹן מוֹרֶה in Hebrew, meaning something like "oak guide," "elon" meaning "oak," and the Guide for the Perplexed translated into Hebrew as Moreh Nevukim) still standing there.  For millennia, the tree has stood as landmark to orient travelers in the region.  From it, one can see numerous sites of biblical significance: the two mountains and the valley in which the series of curses were recited in the book of Joshua (as commanded in Deuteronomy), a proposed burial site of Joshua, and even a stream-bed associated proverbially with beauty in the Song of Songs.  There was an excellent view from all directions, and one could even see across the Jordan River.  The guide also mentioned that the hidden grave of Moses was somewhere on the horizon, which very much excited Rabbi Eli.

The last stop for the day was at a goat farm where some of the other students had visited the last time they were in Israel.  It sells organic local goat yogurt and ice-cream; the proprietor is a fervent Zionist.  I didn't buy anything (so much for stimulating the Israeli economy), but it was good to stay in the shade.

Unfortunately, I left my camera at home, so I can't take any pictures.  You're going to need to rely on my blog then: I'll try to write more vividly in the future.  Right now, it's 2:30 in the morning, and I need to go to bed.  Coming soon: details of my daily life in Tzfat.  And also something about one of my friend's blogs.

I love you all and miss you all; really, I do!  But a special shout-out to Rav Ami, Eliana, and Noveya!  Thank you so much for encouraging me to visit Israel again!

~JD

"Personal prayers are not supposed to be spontaneous outbursts of emotion, and indeed there is no place for such outbursts" (Adin Steinsaltz, The Thirteen-Petaled Rose p. 158).