Zachor - In their own words
'This Struggle Is Worthwhile'
BY MARLA BENNETT
Each morning when I leave my apartment building, I have an important
question to contemplate: Should I turn left or should I turn right?
This question may seem inconsequential, but the events of the past few
months in Israel have led me to believe that each small decision I make--by
which route to walk to school, whether to go out to dinner--may have
life-threatening consequences.
I have been living in Israel for a year and a half; I arrived just a
month
before the current wave of violence and horror began. And for about that
same period of time, I have been receiving calls each week from various
friends and family members who subtly, or less than subtly, suggest I
think
about coming home. My friends and family talk about how dangerous it
is
here, and I have to agree with them. It is dangerous. But I remain
unconvinced that the rest of the world is such a safe place.
At least if I am here I can take an active role in attempting to put
back
together all that has broken. I can volunteer in the homes of Israelis
affected by terrorism, I can put food in collection baskets for Palestinian
families, I can see what goes on each day with my own eyes instead of
with
the eyes of CNN. Beyond all of the brutality, in most places in Israel
life
goes on.
Three weeks ago, I went to Prague for the weekend. One of the perks of
living in Israel is easy (and cheap!) travel to Europe, and as the stress
of
living in Israel continued, my friend Amanda and I decided to take a
break
for a few days. Indeed, it was a break: We felt free to walk in large,
crowded areas without looking over our shoulders. We went to cafes and
drank
coffee without constantly eyeing the door for anyone in bulky clothing,
we
used public transportation without second-guessing our choice.
But as we sat in shul on Friday night, an announcement was made that
a rally
for the Palestinians was being held in a square nearby and we should
be
careful to take a different route home. With the rising anti-Semitic
violence in Europe, no one was sure that the night would end peacefully.
Could we feel carefree anywhere?
During Pesach this year, while terror attacks within Israel were a nearly
daily occurrence, an acquaintance [noted] that though she does not always
feel safe going to public places in Jerusalem, she still feels safe to
walk
alone on the streets at 1 in the morning. I question which way I will
walk
to school in the morning, but I too feel secure walking the streets of
Jerusalem alone at night--even the small side streets I frequent now
to
avoid the popular thoroughfares. I never felt safe enough to do that
while I
lived in the United States.
My friends and family in San Diego are right when they call and ask me
to
come home. It is dangerous here. I appreciate their concern. But there
is
nowhere else in the world I would rather be right now. I have a front-row
seat for the history of the Jewish people. I am a part of the struggle
for
Israel's survival. Paying for my groceries is the same as contributing
money
to my favorite cause. Since traveling to Prague and feeling the fear
of the
Prague community as they faced possible violence, I know that this struggle
is worthwhile.
Dear Friends,
Below is an email sent by my neighbor, Ben Blutstein z.l., to his
grandmother last Thanksgiving. I am sharing this email at the request
of
Ben's father, Richard. Again, you are encouraged to share these words
widely. It is important to the family that Ben be remembered as a
dynamic, diverse, and determined young man and not as some statistic or
symbol.
Please note that donations in Benjamin Thomas Blutstein's memory may
be
made to the American Pardes Foundation, 136 E. 39th St., New York, N.Y.
10016. The Blutstein-Baker family would appreciate greatly receiving
written reminiscences about Ben. These reminiscences can be sent to the
family at
their home, 3484 North Third Street, Harrisburg, PA 17110 or via email
to
rblutstein@comcast.net
B'shalom,
Ron Muroff
-----------------------------------------------------------------------
Hi Gran,
It's really nice to hear from you. I'm sorry I'm missing Thaksgiving with
you guys at Nancy and Odin's. Please tell everyone I love them and am
thinking of them. I hope you guys have a good time. And don't worry about
me - I'll be eating my Thanksdgiving dinner a few hours earlier at my
friend's house. Yes, we Americans who live in Jerusalem still like to
celebrate Thanksgiving. So, I'll be eating with David, my havruta (study
partner) and his family. He is forty-something lawyer form Denver,
Colorado who has taken a year off from work and moved to Jerusalem with
his wife
and kids to study at Pardes.
My classes are going well. I really enjoy the type of intense text study
that we do here. Explaining what I study is a little tough. But
basically, I have a few classes in Tanach, the Hebrew Bible. One class
is a focus on
a close reading of the book of Numbers (Bamidbar in Hebrew) with a look
at
medieval Jewish commentaries like Rashi and Ramban who help explain the
text. Another class we are trying to just get through all of the books
of
the Prophets and the Writings. We move very fast so we don't as in depth.
That class we read in English so we can go faster.
The rest of my classess are in Rabbinic literature, mostly Talmud. The
Talmud is essentially the bridge which has taken Judaism from how it
existed in the Bible to how it is practiced and believed by Jews in the
world. It is a collection of discussions about all types of legal and
theological issues compiled in about the 4th or 5th centuries. It is
written in Aramaic, a language closely related to, but still quite
different from Hebrew. I don't know if any of this is comprehensible
(I apologize is it's not). In addition to studying the texts in the
language they were originally written in, many of my classes this year
are
actually taught in Hebrew. So, my spokene Hebrew skills are getting much
better.
This may sound a little strange (there that's a segue) but, lately I have
found myself thinking occasionially about my mother's father, Thomas,
who
I never had the priveledge to know. I can't help but wonder that he would
think of what I'm doing. How interesting it would be to discuss with him
our (most likely different) interpretations of the Bible. I don't know
what he would say of my being in Israel and studying at a Yeshiva - I'm
not even sure what most of the people at your Thanksgiving dinner think
of
it. Perhaps they think I'm kind of crazy for being in a "dangerous"
part of
the world. Perhaps they are right. But, I feel that I'm doing something
very
important. I am growing and changing. I don't know where this learning
is taking me, but I think it's where I should be going.
Gran, you always asked me to make a blessing at Thanksgiving dinner, so,
let me make this blessing: I want to bless all of us, myself, Gran, my
Mom, my Dad, Rivkah, my entire family, and everyone at Thanksgiving dinner
that we should have strength to continue doing the things we know are
right
even when others might think we're crazy or be concerned for us. And that
all
of us should continue to strive and grow. May it be G-d's will that we
all
ultimately reach where-ever it is that we are going. May it be His will.
with much love,
shalom,
BEN
Jerusalem: There’s Nowhere Else I’d Rather Be
BY MARLA BENNETT
I’ve been living in Israel for over a year and a half now, and my favorite
thing to do here is go to the grocery store. I know, not the most exciting
response from someone living in Jerusalem these days. But going grocery
shopping here—deciphering the Hebrew labels and delighting in all of
the kosher products—as well as picking up my dry cleaning, standing
in long lines at the bank, and waiting in the hungry mob at the bakery—means
that I live here. I am not a tourist; I deal with Israel and all of its
complexities, confusion, joy and pain every single day. And I love it.
I got the “Israel bug” during my junior year, when I studied at the Hebrew University of Jerusalem. I had traveled in Israel before, but living here was a qualitatively different experience. I left knowing I would return. I was not sure whether I would study or work, but I knew that my love for Israel, my desire to understand this country, and my desire to learn more about Judaism were not yet satiated.
I came back to Israel a year and a half ago . . . and what a year and a half it has been. In September 2000, I began studying at the Pardes Institute of Jewish Studies, where I have been learning traditional Jewish texts from master teachers, with other students who represent a broad range of Jewish backgrounds and perspectives. I have learned more in my year and a half of study at Pardes than I learned during my entire undergraduate career.
But my learning is a result not only of the hours I spend pouring over material in the Beit Midrash (Jewish house of study), but also of my life in Jerusalem... Here in Jerusalem I’ve found a community of seekers: people who like me who want to try living in another country, who want to know more about Judaism; people who are trying to figure out exactly what they want their lives to look like. The air is charged with our debates and discussions as we try to assimilate into our lives all that we’ve learned. Life here is magical.
I have learned more in my year and a half of study at Pardes than I learned
during my entire undergraduate career.
It’s also been difficult. Just a month after I arrived the current “Intifada” began. My time here has been dramatically affected by both the security situation and by the events happening around me. I am extremely cautious about where I go and when; I avoid crowded areas and alter my routine when I feel at all threatened. But I also feel energized by the opportunity to support Israel during a difficult period. This is undoubtedly an important historic moment for both Israel and for the Jewish people—I have the privilege of reporting to my friends and family in the U.S. about the realities of living in Israel at this time and I also have the honor of being an American choosing to remain in Israel, and assist, however minimally, in Israel’s triumph.
I remain in Israel this year as part of the Pardes Educators Program, a joint program between Pardes and the Hebrew University. At the Hebrew University I am completing a Master’s Degree in Jewish Education while I continue to study classical Jewish texts at Pardes. I receive a stipend each month from The AVI CHAI Foundation, which is funding the program, and after I complete the degree in June 2003, I have made a commitment to teach in a Jewish school in North America for three years.
As I look ahead to the next year and a half that I will spend in Israel,
I feel excited, worried, but more than anything else, lucky. I am excited
that I can spend another year and a half in a place that truly feels like
home, a home in which I am surrounded by an amazing community of bright
and interesting friends who constantly help me to question and define
myself. I am worried for Israel—a historic moment this is, but also
difficult and unpredictable. I feel lucky because the excitement always
wins out over the worry. The exhilaration of Torah and Talmud study, close
friendships and a lively community far outweigh the fears. Stimulation
abounds in Jerusalem—and I need only go to the supermarket to be
struck once again by how lucky I am to live here. There is no other place
in the world where I would rather be right now.