Har HaBayit - BeYadenu?

On Friday around 2:30 p.m. Israel time, tens of Arab youths threw stones from the Temple Mount towards Mugrabe Gate, which out of the Kotel plaza. For the first time since September of this year, Israeli police entered the Temple Mount to disperse crowds and prevent injuries below.

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Two weeks ago, a friend of mine who is exploring her Jewish roots and was previously involved in Arab-Jewish peacemaking arrived in Jerusalem. Her acquaintance with Jerusalem up until this point was no less with the Arab neighborhoods of the city than the Jewish parts, and so she naturally stayed in a hotel in East Jerusalem. Her plan had to been to travel to Safed for Shabbat and delve into the wisdom of Kabbalah through the educational and spiritual resources at Ascent. However, as a result of miscommunication with Egged, she missed the last bus up north and found herself minutes before Shabbat stuck at her hotel in East Jerusalem.

Although I could not accommodate her on Friday night, a friend and I had the unconventional idea to surprise her at her hotel on Shabbat day. The only problem was - myself, an American and my friend, an Israeli - had not been to East Jerusalem in years, and never during such volatile times. We dressed (modestly of course) as non-obsequious tourists, and walked nonchalantly across town towards the hotel, near Damascus Gate. Soon it was time to cross Kvish Echad - Road #1 - that separates the Jewish and Arab neighborhoods of the city. It was one of those experiences where you think lightning is going to strike, and then suddenly - it doesn't - and you realize - there may be a wall of invisible glass dividing the city, but that at its heart, Jerusalem is one.

After meeting at the hotel, we decided to take my friend to the Kotel, as her curiosity for holy places was peaking and she had few resources to explore these places on her own, and besides, what better time to arrive at the Kotel than Mincha on Shabbat. Naturally, she suggested we walk through Damascus Gate, as it provided the most direct route from where we were to the Wall. When our Israeli friend heard Sha'ar Shchem, he replied, are you crazy? I can't walk through there. Eventually we convinced him that there was nothing to worry about, and that chareidim (ultra-orthodox Jews) walk to the Kotel via Damascus Gate all the time.

I don't know exactly how to put into words the experience of walking through East Jerusalem on Shabbat on the way to the kotel. It was like discovering your backyard for the first time, and feeling a bizarre mixture of at-homeness, foreignness, belonging, familiarity and otherness. Granted, I (unlike some others) would not have felt comfortable walking through identified as religious Jews. However, in camouflage, the experience provided an intimate, deeply-sought and deeply significant experience with the city's other half.

The walk from Damascus Gate to the Kotel was new, rich, full of history, and exhilarating. I should note that there were many religious Jews who walked with us, and I resolved to use this route again in the future. Indeed, several days ago, I returned to the Kotel for Mincha on Shavuot, this time dressed as myself, a modestly-dressed religious Jewish woman. Although when I was with the others, we had stuck to the one path leading from the Gate to the Wall, this time I noticed a large group of seminary girls coming out of one of the side alleyways, and I couldn't help but walk a few steps to see what lay at the other end.

To my surprise, the dark alleyway suddenly gave light to an archway filled with blue sky, fresh olive trees, and, behind them - the Dome of the Rock - the present-day marker for the holiest spot of Har HaBayit. This was the regular-old-tourist path to Har HaBayit, and I would soon discover, it was manned by soldiers to ensure that Jews would not enter the space, so as to not turn up the heat on the already hot-spot of conflict. Yet seeing an opening, as any (naive) Jew would do, I abruptly picked up the pace of my steps and went forth. Then, I saw two soldiers waiting by the archway, and right before me, a religious man ascended the steps, eyeing the jackpot. "Excuse me!" the soldiers called in Hebrew. "It is forbidden to go up." A short exchange ensued but it was clear the man had no chance. I had a few seconds before my turn to internalize the situation, and so, eager to ascend (I conveniently forgot for a moment the fact that I should only go up with an expert who knows where I am allowed to step), I decided to try my luck out as a tourist. Yes, that's right, hide my Jewish identity in front of Israeli soldiers to be allowed to enter the holiest place of our people on the festival of Shavuot - 40 years after the reunification of Jerusalem. [God bless the soldiers - they're just taking the Left's (and for that matter, the Right's) orders!]

In any case, my impersonation of a goya did not go very far. At first I tried to sneak but surreptitiously - no luck.  "Excuse me, you cannot go here," the soldier said resolutely in Hebrew. I put on my best clueless tourist, although my Shabbos shoes left me hapless. "Oh...is it always closed?" The soldier perhaps bought it for a moment, and then said: "You can come back tomorrow (in English), mi sheva vachetzi ad achat esre vachetzi". I'm assuming saying the opening hours of the Temple Mount in Hebrew, he was testing my Hebrew as translated in the response of my facial muscles. I couldn't bear to continue the deception and so I smiled and turned around. Maybe another time. As I walked through the metal detectors and to the Kotel Plaza though, I couldn't quite shake off the tense, Kafkaeque and twisted reality of these holy alleyways: After millenia of separation, why is an Israeli soldier the last barrier between a Jew and the Foundation Stone?

Sefirat HaOmer

Today (Wednesday) is the first day of the counting of the Omer. On Pesach, we experienced an enormous illumination from above. On the way to Shavuot, we proceed day by day, building our spiritual capacity to receive the Torah through our own merit. Hashem's love for us is so great that in addition to showering us with His infinite blessings and light from above during the holiest moments of the year, He truly desires to merge His infinite capacities with our finite makeup, such that we cultivate awareness, holiness and spiritual vessels exactly in the place where we find ourselves, creating channels for the infinite to dwell within the finite.

Each of the seven weeks of the Omer represents one of the seven intermediate 'sefirot' (aspects of Hashem; from the same root as the Hebrew word 'to count'). This week is the sefira of chesed - lovingkindness. Each of the days of the week represents an aspect of the divine attribute of chesed - the chesed in chesed, the gevurah (strength) of chesed, the tiferet (harmony, balance, beauty) of chesed, and so on. With Hashem's help we'll post insights into the divine attributes and other meanings associated with each week of the omer.

According to Rebbe Nachman (Likkutei Halachot, Sefirat Haomer), the waving of the omer (a ritual to be conducted at the Temple during this time) represents the search for the divine presence throughout the myriad of moments of our lives and external manifestations in the world. After the first day of Pesach, the intense revelation of Hashem's essence vanishes, and it is up to us to search Him out everywhere. According to Rabbi Yitzchak Ginsburgh, by counting the days, we are called upon to see the unity within the multitude.

Lucky enough for us, technology and counting the omer a match made in heaven: Add an omer counter to your site (see right banner), or download the Omer Counter iPhone app, or if you're in the US, just text the name of your cell phone company for a daily reminder. For the blessing to count the Omer see here.

Moadim L'Simcha! 
 

The Convert Who Wanted to be High Priest

Blessing of the Kohanim depicted on the gravestone of
Rabbi Meschullam Kohn (1739-1819)

The following is a teaching by Israel's first chief rabbi, Rabbi Abraham Isaac Kook, on this week's Torah portion, adapted from the book Ein Ayah by HaRav Chanan Morrison. A weekly teaching by Rav Kook is available by e-mail and for viewing on his website. 

The Talmud (Shabbat 31a) tells the story of three Gentiles who wished to convert. In each case, they were initially rejected by the scholar Shamai, known for his strictness, but they were later accepted and converted by the famously modest Hillel. 

In one case, a Gentile was walking near a synagogue when he heard the Torah being read and translated

These are the clothes that you should make: the jeweled breast-plate, the ephod-apron.. (Ex. 28:4)

His interest was piqued. "For whom are these fancy clothes?" he asked. "They are special garments for the Kohen Gadol, the High Priest." The Gentile was excited. "For this, it is worth becoming a Jew. I'll go convert and become the next High Priest!"

The Gentile made the mistake of approaching Shamai. "I want you to convert me," he told Shamai, 

"but only on condition that you appoint me High Priest." Shamai rebuffed the man, pushing him away with a builder's measuring rod.

Then he went to Hillel with the same proposition. Amazingly, Hillel agreed to convert him. Hillel, however, gave the man some advice. 'If you wanted to be king, you would need to learn the ways and customs of the royal court. Since you aspire to be the High Priest, go study the appropriate laws.'

So the new convert began studying Torah. One day, he came across the verse, "Any non-priest who participates [in the holy service] shall die" (Num. 3:10). "To whom does this refer?" he asked. Even King David, he was told. Even David, king of Israel, was not allowed to serve in the holy Temple, as he was not a descendant of Aaron the kohen.

The convert was amazed. Even those born Jewish, and who are referred to as God's children, are not allowed to serve in the Temple! Certainly, a convert who has just arrived with his staff and pack may not perform this holy service. Recognizing his mistake, he returned to Hillel, saying, "May blessings fall on your head, humble Hillel, for drawing me under the wings of the Divine Presence."

 

Shamai's Rejection and Hillel's Perspective

A fascinating story, but one that requires to be examined. Why did Shamai use a builder's measuring rod to send away the potential convert? What did Hillel see in the Gentile that convinced him to perform the conversion?

Shamai felt that the man lacked a sincere motivation to convert. By chance, he had overheard the recitation of the High Priest's special garments. The garments, beautiful though they may be, represent only an external honor. His aspirations were shallow and superficial, like clothing that is worn on the surface.

Furthermore, the chance incident did not even awaken within the Gentile a realistic goal. How could conversion to Judaism, with all of the Torah's obligations, be based on such a crazy, impossible fancy - being appointed High Priest? The foundations of such a conversion were just too shaky. Shamai pushed him away with a builder's measuring rod, indicating that he needed to base his goals on solid, measured objectives.

Hillel, however, looked at the situation differently. In his eyes, the very fact that this man passed by the synagogue just when this verse was being read, and that this incident should inspire him to such a lofty goal - converting to Judaism - this person must have a sincere yearning for truth planted deeply in his heart. He was not seeking the honor accorded to the rich and powerful, but rather the respect granted to those who serve God at the highest level. The seed of genuine love of God was there, just obscured by false ambitions, the result of profound ignorance. Hillel was confident that as he advanced in Torah study, the convert would discover the beauty and honor of divine service that he so desired through the sincere observance of the Torah's laws, even without being the High Priest.

 

Both Traits Needed

Once, the three converts who were initially rejected by Shamai and later accepted by Hillel, met together. They all agreed: "The strictness of Shamai almost made us lose our [spiritual] world; but the humility of Hillel brought us under the wings of God’s Presence." 

Rav Kook noted that the converts did not talk about Shamai and Hillel. Rather, they spoke of the "strictness of Shamai" and the "humility of Hillel." These are two distinct character traits, each one necessary in certain situations. In order to maintain spiritual attainments, we need the traits of firmness and strictness. On the other hand, in order to grow spiritually, or to draw close those who are far away, we need the traits of humility and tolerance. The three converts recognized that it was Hillel's quality of humility that helped bring them "under the wings of God's Presence."

Netanya IKEA burned to the ground on Shabbat Rosh Chodesh Adar

IKEA Netanya before Saturday's fire

On the first day of Chanukah, a fire raged through Israel's Carmel forest, destroying over 55,000 dunams of trees and taking 45 lives.

On Saturday, a fire broke out at Israel's Netanyahu IKEA store. No one was injured, as IKEA is closed on Shabbat (b"H). The entire store and all merchandise, however, burned to the ground. Damage was estimated at $100 million, and 400 Israelis were employed at the store.

The IKEA in Netanya was Israel's first IKEA store, and was the largest in Israel. There is another branch in Rishon L'Tziyon near Tel Aviv. In July, the Netanya IKEA lot was appraised at $52 million.

IKEA Founder's Nazi Roots? 

The founder of IKEA, Ingvar Kamprad, was exposeed by a Swiss paper in the mid-1990's for attending Nazi Party meetings in Sweden after WWII. Days before the Netanya store opened in 2000, the San Francisco Bay Area Jewish Weekly reported:

Kamprad started Ikea as a 16-year-old in 1943, using his initials for the first two letters and the names of two small Swedish towns for the final two letters. The first deliveries were made by milk truck.

During the business' infancy, between 1945 and 1948, Kamprad attended several pro-Nazi meetings led by Swedish rightist Per Engdahl. The Stockholm newspaper Expressen uncovered Kamprad's name in the archives of Engdahl, who died in 1994.

Aware of the potential PR damage, Kamprad issued a letter of apology to IKEA employees and called himself 'naive'.

HBO's 'Dennis Miller Live' covered the story with the following joke, according to the J: "The founder of the Ikea furniture stores admitted to being a Nazi sympathizer during World War II. He went on to say that Ikea's original name was Mein Couch."

Rabbi Abraham Cooper, associate dean of the Simon Wiesenthal Center  in Los Angeles criticized Kamprad, even after his 'apology':

"At a time when the rest of the world was walking and running away from Nazism and fascism, this young man was embracing it."

Joshua Bernstein, director of the ADL's Pacific Region, said the following:

"He should have known better. After all, this was occurring after World War II. The Nazi atrocities were documented and evident to everyone after the war...He has never made any comments as an adult that have been extremist in any way, shape or fashion. But on the other hand, neither did he go out of his way to be friendly toward the Jewish people, toward Jewish interests. And specifically he didn't do business with Israel at a time that would have made a difference."

Dov Rochman, manager of the Israeli company that bought franchise rights for the Netanya IKEA, made the case that Israel is a prime market for IKEA:

"Ikea is a concept, it's a style. It's a store that nobody in Israel has seen the likes of before. It will have a huge impact, because customers here are becoming more and more sophisticated and they will love the idea."

Yibaneh, Yibaneh...

Anyone who has walked into an IKEA knows the feeling: it is an architectural-consumerist masterpiece. There is an other-worldly quality about it. Israel has a lot of international chain stores, but IKEA was something else. Rochman was right, the IKEA phenomenon spread like wildfire in Israel. The store and the trip to the store was the epitome of Israel's strive for cosmopolitanism, which may not be problematic in itself, but is when juxtaposed with our complete dismissal of what we are in this land for. Israel has other, more important, and more essential things to build--the first of which is our own masterpiece, the source of our people's vitality and our spiritual gift to the world--the holy Third Temple on God's Holy Mountain, House of Prayer for all peoples, the dwelling place of the divine in the material world. May it be built speedily in our days.