I AM BACK

Moishe Pipik has returned from his sojourn. I will be describe in detail after Shabbos. Here is a taste.

WILL BE TRAVELLING

Moishe Pipik will be travelling for a few days, therefore his riveting and action packed blog will not be updated until this coming week. Be safe, stay strong, and keep in touch.

I'll Be Wrapped Around Your Finger

Tefillin are a ritual phylacteries used in the morning prayer service or shacharit. Essentially, it is a pair of black leather boxes containing scrolls of parchment with biblical verses. When donning or wrapping teffilin, one box is wrapped around the fore-arm and the fingers, shel yad, while is other is placed on the forehead, shel rosh. Wrapping tefillin is considered a mitzvot or a commandment of God per the Torah and coupled with my interest of becoming more observant, I visited in tefillin factory in northern Jerusalem to inquire about purchasing a pair.

In order to keep tefillin sturdy and true, therefore kosher or holy, the manufacturing process is very labor intensive. With the intent of minimizing the use of glue, a piece of cow’s hide is literally folded like origami to create four individual compartments to house the parchments. The parchment, made from goat hide, is hand scribed with the greatest care for detail and accuracy. I have attached pictures of the various stages of the manufacturing process.

Gush Etzion

Gush Etzion (the settlement block of Etzion) is an Israeli settlement outside of the Green Line, the 1949 Armistice Line between Israel and its neighbors after the 1948 Israeli War of Independence. Israeli settlements outside of the Green Line is a contested issue in the Israeli-Palestine Conflict namely within immediate proximately to the Palestinian Territories of the Gaza Strip and the West Bank.

Gush Etzion is within in the West Bank located equidistance between two cities of biblical importance – Bethlehem (birthplace of Jesus) and Hebron (the burial place of the “Patriarchs” – Abraham, Isaac, Jacob). There is an ancient Roman road passing through this settlement that was the alleged route of Abraham when he traveled from Hebron to Jerusalem. Along this road, called the Road of the Patriarchs, there are archeological remnants of mika’vot, baths for ritual purification, for this route was commonly used for the semi-annual pilgrimage to Jerusalem during the period of the Second Temple, 516 BC to 70 AD. As a southern approach to Jerusalem, during the Israeli War of Independence, it was part of a noted and prolonged siege by Jordanian Arab Legion and Arab irregular forces. One day prior to the end of the war, as a result of an overwhelming, coordinated attack, the settlement fell and all of its soldiers and the citizens were massacred.

A settlement block is partition into small units, like a neighborhood within a city. But, unlike a city, these neighborhoods, although with visual proximity, are physically isolated from one another. My classmates and I visited one of our professors at one of the settlements within Gush Etzion. It was not unlike a pioneering gated community in the Midwest – an outpost of uniformly designed townhouses, shops, and synagogues spun into a compact suburb. It truly had the appearance and the trappings of an American suburb. To make a finer point, although this settlement is outside of the Green Line, it is a permanent settlement in existence for at least the past thirty years. This is not a temporarily settlement that is often the reported point of strife within the Israeli-Palestine Conflict.

Israel can be defined as covenantal (the “Promised land”), sociological (the totality of the Jewish people), and experiential (the Jewish homeland). As I travel and studying in Israel, I am beginning to learn the necessary and the value of this land.

Sunday Night Fever

On Sunday evenings, after the commerce and negotiations of markets of Mehane Yeduda cease and the vendors close their shops, an Israeli band plays traditional Israeli music in one of the alcoves of the Shuk. An adjacent restaurant serves a light evening meal of fish on long, communal tables as families gather for the evening’s entertainment. Not unlike most experiences in the Shuk’s narrow streets, the place is a compression of people. Near the band, an improved dance floor is occupied with groups of friends (typically partitioned according to gender) swaying and moving rhythmically to the music. The dancers’ manifestation of the music was expressed via the hips and with graceful movements of the arms.

While the instruments were common - guitar, mandolin, and persuasion, the music was lively and distinctly Middle Eastern. The crowd was fully participating in the songs and at revelry of the moment. At times, individuals would step into the mass of dancers and begin performing a solo dance, and the crowd would respond with applause. The music was effervescent and joyful and that was openly reflected on the faces of the crowd. My friends and I did not know the words to the songs, and our desire to share in the collective singing, we crafted homophonic (similar sounds) lyrics. When all else failed, a hardy “EH” sufficed.

Second Shabbos In Israel – Let’s Get Ready to Frumble

Israel is a microcosm of global jewry for it reflects all of the various denominations, sects, and international communities of the Jewish faith. This Shabbos, a fellow student and I spend Friday evening with a haradi, ultra-orthodox Jews from central and Europe, family near the neighborhood of Me’a She’arim. The haradi are the classic “Lithuanian” Jews steeped in a rich Orthodox tradition of yeshivas and Talmudic study. Noted for the donning of black hats, the haradi represent a very conservative and observant group within the Jewish spectrum.

My host was raised in the US and he had been studying and living in Israel for a number of years with his family. We attended late Mincha, afternoon prayer, and an early Maariv, evening prayer, service at his synagogue. It was brimming with men ranging from mid-twenties to early forties all donning black suits and the customary black hats. Granted my Hebrew is improving, I could not keep pace with the rapidity of their davening (a modified Yiddish word for “prayer”). The Shabbat meal was a languid and delicious full of discussion and debate. I was able to address a number of religious issues that needed clarification; moreover, his perspective offered a different on the faith and its teachings. I found value in experiencing a more traditional approach to Judaism. Although it does not appeal to me, my learning and my experience in Jerusalem has fostered an appreciation and an understanding of that lifestyle.

My host family was extremely hospitable and the food was exceptional, and like my previous Shabbat experience, continuous. Considering my travels in the American South, the hostess’s homemade, kosher lemon meringue pie would give Paula Dean stiff competition.

During the long walk back from the Me’a She’arim neighborhood to my flat in Baaka (about a one and half walk), I walked through a number of Jewish communities from the ultra-othordox to the Hasidic to the secular. Even though it was after midnight, the streets were alive with people – all observing Shabbat in their own way.

The Dea Sea

On Friday morning, my friends and I visited the Dead Sea. The trip took us out of Jerusalem, passing several Palestinian and Israeli settlements, and skirting the West Bank. The Dead Sea is the lowest terrestrial point on the earth about 420 metres (1,378 ft). The drive was through an expanse of barren terrain with sparse agriculture and rigid, carved canyon walls. As you descended from the hills of Jerusalem, there were signs demarcating the drop in elevation.

The Dead Sea’s source waters are the Jordan River as well as above and subterranean rivers. There are no outflows for the Dead Sea, in fact, due to the climate and high temperatures; the average “sea” level is maintained exclusively by evaporation. Hence there is a high concentration of minerals including magnesium, sodium, calcium, potassium chlorides, and bromite. To this effect, the Dead Sea is about 30% “saltier” than average ocean water. Furthermore, the concentration ratio of minerals to water is about 33% thus increasing the density of the solution. The increased density translates as in increase in buoyancy.

The water has a thick, albeit oily texture, and it is warm like a freshly run bath. In contrast the oppressive heat of the day, the water is as mildly refreshing as traversing from a dry to a wet sauna. What is most notable and remarking is the aforementioned buoyancy of the water for one effortlessly floats. In fact, one can stand perfect inverted and continually float. Mind you, any cut or scrap on your body is immediately highlighting and it brings new meaning to the phrase, “Putting salt on a wound.”

Due to the high mineral concentration, the Dead Sea has alleged therapeutic value. The mud of the sediment along its coastline is supposed to be an excellent exfoliator as well as detoxifiers. We swam along the shoreline until we located the telling stratus of the mineral-rich mud. Digging into the sloping cliff wall, one collects the mud and proceeds to coat one’s body. Any opportunity to get immersed in mud is an opportunity worth taking.

After rising off in the Dead Sea and the nearby freshwater showers, we proceeded to Jericho, a biblical city currently within the border of the West Back. At the checkpoint, we were turned away for according to the Israeli guard, the Palestinian Authority does not permit Jews within its borders.

Speaking of security, note the picture of the gray wall with the tower in front of building complex. This is the border crossing from the West Bank to Israel. The building complex is a Palestinian settlement and the wall was designed to deter sniper fire from the settlement to the cars at the border crossing. Terror deterrence is deeply imbedded into the Israeli culture. Not only are there are fully armed soldiers, police, and guards patrolling the city, but at the entrance of every mall, restaurant, office building, or public area, there are security checkpoints for weapons and bombs searches.

Maariv at the Kotel

A religious tourist will visit a number of sites in Israel and one of the most popular and universality recognized, the Kotel is the Western Wall. It is the remnants of an outer retaining wall of the Second Temple build by Herod the Great in 19 BC. Positioned in the western flank of the Temple Mount, its pseudonym is the “Wailing Wall” for it is not uncommon for a pious Jew to publicly mourn the loss of the second temple. Being a religious tourist site and unlike the majority of the Old City, the Kotel is extremely organized and Disney-esque. One evening with my three roommates and a fellow student, we prayed maariv, or the evening prayer, at the Kotel. It was mid-evening – leaning towards the waning hours of the time for maariv, so the Kotel was not amass of people. Various minyans, group of ten Jewish men necessary to conduct a prayer service, were formed and maariv was performed. Since it was evening, bright lights flooded the Kotel illuminating the textures and age of this biblical wall.

According to tradition, this is one of the holiest places in Judaism for it is the location where “heaven and earth meet.” Therefore, your prayers are more readily to God’s ears. The idea of a holy place is not uncommon to religion but it is uncommon in Judaism. It seems that the emphasis is more on a holy “time”, like Shabbat, rather than a holy place for there are limited prohibition of the location for Jewish prayer. With this concept of a holy place, it is customary for a Jew to either recite or compose a special prayer at the foot of the wall. Within the reachable cracks, small pieces of paper of written prayers rolled tightly into small scrolls. As one looks down the wall, it is densely strewn with both praying men and a mélange of multi-colored written prayers.

As I approached the Kotel and rested my head against it, I experienced awash of emotions. At first, it felt contrived so I resisted the feelings. As I quietly recited my personal special prayer, I felt disoriented and hazy. Contrived or sincere, I allowed the experience to wash over me. I reflected on the people that make my life meaningful and I prayed for their happiness and their health. I thought about all of the problems and the worries that I carried from my life in the States and I allowed them to be momentarily lifted. I rested in the space “where heaven meets the earth” in quiet clarity and contemplation.

I also prayed for unicorns to return to the realm of man, because they are bad ass!!

My First Shabbat In Israel

Hours prior to Shabbos, the Jewish Sabbath starting on Friday evening and concluding on Saturday, the shops close and the traffic dies down. The sounds of commerce and industry wind down to prepare for the day of rest. Mind you, this is Jerusalem – a particularly religious part of Israel – so the observance of Jewish holidays and tradition are commonly practiced. Although this is a “Jewish” state, not all Israelis agree on how Judaism should be represented and demonstrated at the communal or public level. Being pro-Israel and anti-religious is not an uncommon political position. Nonetheless, in Jerusalem, Shabbat falls on the city like a light and refreshing mist. According to Jewish law, halacha, a Jew can not perform work on the Sabbath. In modern times, the prohibition of “work” is reflected as not turning on a light, listening to the radio, driving a car, etc.

Being my first Shabbat in Israel, needless to say, I was excited. Friday evening dinner was at my school with the entire class and, afterwards, a number of us walked to a group of student’s flat for post-dinner revelry. The next morning, I failed to wake up in time for Shacharit or morning prayers. On Shabbos, in addition to the normal Shacharit, the Torah, the Five Books of Moses, is read and the parsha, the torah portion is discussed. I am eager to explore the variety of synagogues in Jerusalem for in its totality it represents the entire spectrum of Jewish practice. After Shacharit, around noon, the streets are bustling with families walking to Shabbos lunch. An interesting tradition in Jerusalem is for the men to continue to don their tallis, or prayer shawl, after services. In the States, one dons the tallis prior to prayer and removes it afterwards. For lunch, I visited the flat of a fellow student. Derived from the prohibition of work and “lighting fires”, the recipe of cholent was developed. It is a hearty stew that is prepared the prior to the beginning of Shabbos and it is kept warm on a hot plate or a crock pot.

At this point, a wise Jew would take a nap. Since the “weekend” starts on Friday, Thursday night is the “Friday” night in Israel. So being sleep deprived from last evening’s festivity, one continues the sleep deprivation with Shabbat evening’s excesses of eating and drinking. The observant Jew rousing himself on Saturday morning from his food coma to attend services and, then, eats and drinks again. At this point, you are exhausted and you need to the day of rest. Being new to Jerusalem, I do not know how to pace myself, so I took a walk to the Haas Promenade that overlooks the Old City.

Gentle reader, can you imagine what happened next? Seudah Shlishit or Third meal. Are we Jews or Hobbits? In the early evening, I went to third fellow student’s flat for the third meal where I, again, ate and drank. Mind all of the food was delicious and the company was exceptional, but I could not keep pace with these proficient Oneg Shabbat-ors. Oneg Shabbat is the spirit of Shabbat – eating, singing, and spending time with family and friends.

Shabbos concludes with the recitation of Havdalah – the ritual separation of Shabbat and the new week. On the outdoor roof deck of my fellow student’s flat, we sang songs, both Hebrew and Yiddish, and enjoyed the quiet of the evening. Even though my class has disparate background, we all commune on the common experience of Judaism so it creates an environment of camaraderie and familiarity. Needless to say, it was an incredible first Shabbat in Israel. So much so, that I went right to sleep.

It is easy being a Jew in Israel which is a very enticing and unique element. Nonetheless, as I am considering how to manifest my faith in the States, I cannot directly relate my experience within Israel. Being a Jew in the Diaspora has its own challenges and problems.

Independance Day at Ben Yehuda Street

One of the central locations of Jerusalem’s nightlife in Ben Yehuda Street in the City Center. Not unlike many American and European cities, this area is bustling with US rock and hip-hop music and alcohol-induced revelry. The actual street is tight procession of bars and restaurants winding down the city’s center. While at a hookah (water pipe) bar, my group was sitting next to a lively and rambunctious troupe of American Jewish fraternity brothers. I am pleased to note that the puerility of the fraternal system has not dissipated since my early college experiences with the Hellenic system. Nor, did the holiness of Jerusalem temper their collegiate demeanor. Then again maybe the presence of ancient Jewish history and the proximity to US Independence Day inspired the nearly inebriated ambassadors of Judaic inteligencia to sing a pastiche of crass drinking tunes and US patriotic songs. This potential diplomatic crisis was curtailed with an equal and opposing force of ridiculousness – well-armed, patriotic drunk Israelis. A “choral battle” (to the chagrin of Sophocles and the Vienna Boys Choir) ensued. After suffering through “America The Beautiful”, “God Bless America,” a Bruce Springsteen song, and various Israeli soccer chats, I could not stand for the pre-baseball rendition of “The Star Spangled Banner.” So, I stood up and I joined the Americas in an unflattering display of patriotism. Showing remarkable insight and sensitivity, the frat boys initiated the Israeli National anthem, HaTikvah. Thus, concluded the “choral battle” for all, even the on-lookers and the audience, participated in an homage to Israel.

Archeological Dig at Mt. Scopus

Considering all of the archeology studies being conducted in Jerusalem and I had the opportunity to volunteer with an archeology program that sifts through the dirt excavated from a site near the Temple Mount. The Temple Mount is the Old City and it is one of the holiest sites for both Judaism and Islam. While excavating an entrance to an historic subterranean mosque in “Solomon’s Stables”, the dirt was moved from site to the city dump in the Kildron Valley without concern for the archeological significant. Once the “carelessness” was realized, the dirt was moved to a new location for research at Mt. Scopus near Hebrew University. Since the strati or the historic levels were disturbed, the site is considered archeologically “dead”. Nonetheless, it contains a wealth of artifacts dating from the First Temple (10th Century BC) to the Crusades (9th Century AD). As a volunteer, I sifted through a pile of pre-selected rocks and dirt using a screen and water to locate the artifacts. They included mosaic, building materials, clay pots, metal, and bone. The archaeologists study and cataloged the artifacts and utilizing statistical analysis develop conclusion about the site. Surprisingly, I found the stone that David killed Goliath and I attached a pic.

Mahane Yehuda Market

North of the city center is the Mahane Yehuda Market or the Shuk. This marketplace boasts the best fruits and vegetables in the city and it was swarming with shoppers during the pre-Shabbat scramble. The Shuk is about three to four narrow and compact square blocks and merchant stalls line the passageways. While Shabbat is the day of rest, Firday morning and early afternoon is a sprint of preparation. The Shuk was alive commerce and pushing and pulling bodies. The smell of Challah, the traditional bread of Shabbat, perfumed the air with rich wafts of yeast and dough. Vendors were calling and yelling out to potential customers with quick little slogans. The three delectables of note were the baklava (buttery sweet), dates (fresh and full), and halava (decadent). I hope to return on a weekly basis for my shopping.

ann

Halacha, You Vex Me!

Halacha is a divinely mandatory lifestyle equally applied within the family, community, and the world that is both exclusive and takes precedence to all of other laws. Halacha is rabbinic interpretative application of the commandments in the Torah. So, when the Torah states, “Thou shall not light a fire on Shabbat,” Halacha provide the contexts for its modern application.

I find halacha annoying and restrictive and it undermines my desire to actively participate in my faith. But today, I learn that halachic tension – between the self and the community and the self and God – is part of the Jewish experience. The understanding, codification, and application of God’s laws are a part of fundamental Jewish framework and to struggle with that is to struggle with faith. And to wrestle with one’s faith is to actively participating in one’s spiritual development.

My struggle with my faith has been one of obstinate rebellion. I have been looking at halacha too narrowly for I have been viewing the struggle as an end rather than a means.

Now, that I have permission to be conflicted and annoyed, I feel better and I feel energized to tackle these issues.

It is ON Halacha!!!

Explanation of Why I am in Israel

I have been struggling with Jewish identity, namely how to manifest Judaism in my daily life. Like most devotees of a faith, if you pose the question, “What does it mean to be a ______?” you will get many different answers. So when I pose that question to myself, my answers seem incomplete.

Here is what I believe:

I believe in God.
I believe that the Torah is a divinely inspired document used to teach, organize, and guide the Jewish faith.
I believe that my faith in God and the practicing or manifestation of that faith will lead to closer relationship with God.
I believe that a success family is rooted in a common value system and a shared experience.

Here is what I like:

I like that my faith ties me to my family and my greater Jewish community.
I like the emphasis on learning, community, charity, and social justice.
I like the rich heritage and traditions.
I like that it provide a framework for understanding and living within the world.
I like that my faith has produced many great scholars, scientists, leaders, thinkers, athletes, artists, writers, musicians, and most importantly, comedians.
I like viewing the world from the Jewish perspective
I like the fact that I can turn to the texts for answers, guidance, and support.
I like when my “Jewish” jokes are comprehended and appreciated.

Here is what I don’t like:

I do not like the restrictions.
I do not like gefilte fish.
I do not the feelings that I need to know more to be a “better” Jew.
I do not the idea of being bounded or confined to conventions.
I do not like the weight of the Jewish faith of my shoulders.
I do not like the expectations and demands.
I do not like the constant correlation between Jews and the Holocaust.

For the list, it is apparent that I am hypocritical and contradictory. Furthermore, I have been confused and reluctant to seek out the answers. So, here I am … seeking, learning, and questioning. I am taking action and I hope I will be able to better articulate my understanding of my faith and my intent to enact that understanding.

Alleged Terrorist Attack in Jerusalem

This morning in the city center of Jerusalem there was an alleged terrorist attack. A Palestinian attacked buses and automobiles with a backhoe - at least two people were killed and dozen were hurt.

A backhoe ... who does that??? Despite the insidiousness of using a backhoe for Jerusalem is in the midst of a construction boom, it is reminiscent of a "redneck" tactic. What next rampant ATVs in the Old City and bass boats along the River Jordan blaring Lynard Skynyrd's "Sweet Home Alabama?" This begs for a Jeff Foxyworth joke - "You know you're redneck terrorist when you ..." Patrick Swayze's seminal film, "Next of Kin", foreboded the dire consequences of rednecks with a vendetta. One can only hope that the marriage of these two cultures are limited to prolification of Nascar and John Deere hats.

Nonetheless, I am OK. I was class during the incident. Please do not worry for, at this time, it does not make a trend in terrorist violence.

For update info, please reference - http://www.bbc.com/

As they say, "If it Jews, it is news!"

Morning Transitions

The harbinger of morning is the adhan, or the Islamic call to prayer. When the sky is breaking from a dark blue to sapphire hue, the adhan announces the new day. My apartment is Baaka, in southern Jerusalem, and the topography of this ancient city is a series of hills. The landscape is not broken by towering building or groves or trees, so one’s view and one’s voice carries like an errant plastic bad caught in a mild zephyr. Called out from a mosque, the adhan summons Muslims for the first set of five mandotary prayers or fard salah. The West Bank or the arab community of one of the Palestinian Territories is an earshot from my neighborhood, so I experience the splendor of this religious summoning. It begins with a single voice – slightly cracked and diffuse. This voice, sung with texture and slightly stylized vibrato, catches my ear. It is alone and singular. Then, other mosques join into the adhan and the one voice becomes a chorus – not in perfect timbre, but enough convergence to create a wall of sound. As I am transitioning from an unconscious to a conscious state, so do the sound outside my window - from the profane to the mundane. In the courtyard below, stray cats whine with plaintive pathos and birds sing with petulant indignation. These are the most vehemently angry animals I have ever heard - not unlike the taxi driver whom exploded in a diatribe after I requested a course correction (Israelis are not known for thier customer service but seems to have a developed appreciation for foreign curses). Thus, this marks the new day and it is a delightful reminder that I am in Israel – a land of holiness and rudeness.

I have attached snaps of my flat and my neighborhood.