Tanach, the Elixir of Jewish Life

Today, I met with a fellow student who is doing her doctorate in Tanach studies.

She needed help with translating some research for her dissertation.

What a refreshing break it was. What a bliss to be able to unchain myself from the daily chores, from a world that is slowly draining itself off any trace of decency and dignity, where personal agenda replaces the imperative to make the world a better place and where the commandment to choose life is crushed by cultures of death. .

As someone who grew up in an observant home with a father who was very knowledgeable about the Tanach , I developed a wonderful and very rewarding love affair with this great book.

It, therefore, deeply saddens me to witness our Jewish people (the ones I care about first and foremost) distance themselves from the BEST piece of writing ever presented to mankind.

I do not prescribe to the belief that the Tanach was written by G-d. Humans, like you and I, I believe, made of flesh and blood with emotions, wants, desires, faults and imperfections, wrote it. They did, however, have one trait in common. They were very wise.

The Tanach is not just about the righteous or people that lived by or adhered to the strictest of moral codes. It is about reality and, like any reality, where humankind is involved, it is composed of the good, the bad, the beautiful the not so good, the not so bad and the not so beautiful. It tells stories of betrayal, sacrifice, love, deceit, power struggles, conflicts, pain, joy and some victories.

Its narrators were very crafty.

Each tale, each experience was meant to teach, to educate. Their lessons are so great, woven so intricately into each book, each chapter and each verse. Their eternal message is, sometimes, camouflaged in the form of parables, adorned with the finest of pearls, and sometimes hidden in plain sight, just waiting to be uncovered.

As I read and re-read them, they unfold new angles, new insights, and new understandings. They are the fountainhead of unending wisdom, a river of pure, clear water that refreshes one's tired soul, the elixir of Life, if only we opened ourselves to absorbing them and their teachings.

It is a book that recounts the sagas of a unique and determined nation, from its infancy through adulthood. It describes its various stages of growth and spiritual development as it never fails to list its contributions to a, often, hostile world.

So, my dear fellow Jews, when your tired spirit seeks a respite, longs for a quiet corner away from the madding crowd or wishes to take a break from a troubled burdening world, heed my advice. Shake off your shackles and delve into the most soothing ancient cradle called Tanach.

 Let it lull your troubled essence on the verses of Psalms and reignite any fading spark which is begging to be revived. Imbibe the wisdom of Solomon and reconnect with the treasure of our Jewish soul. Allow its pillar of fire to guide you back onto our glorious path washed out by the foamy and angry waves of a grim history.  Let it nourish your every cell with renewed vigor and be awaken to a bright new dawn in our Eternal Covenant.

Against all Odds

As a child, Alina was always skinny, sickly and constantly bullied by her friends. They mocked her for her small size and pale complexion.

“One day,” she used to retort back at them, “I will be on top of the world. Where will you be?”

The dream to shake off the image of her dreary childhood, in the city of Khabarovsk, her birthplace, located in the far eastern part of Russia, took hold of her heart and shaped Alina’s essence. Though she ended up living a very comfortable life, earned a business management degree from one of the top and most prestigious universities and had all her needs taken care of, something was missing in her life. Life in that remote part of the world was empty and seemed to hold no future. The dream, however, refused to extinguish itself. Parts of her spirit and soul were begging for a change.

It was her Jewish ancestry, of all factors, which helped revive the dream, bring about the change and help fulfill her wish.

“Why don’t you travel to Yisrael?” her mother asked her one bright day trying to cheer her up. “Since my father is Jewish,” she suggested to Alina, “ under the Law of Return, you can move there without any problem. Give it a try. You can always come back home.”

Despite warnings against the difficulties that Yisrael poses to new immigrants and in spite of the doubts expressed by those that were close to her about her ability to adjust to life here, Alina took her mother's advice. In 1999, she arrived in Yisrael. She was immediately placed in an absorption center in Tiberias where, a year later, she was joined by her mother.

From Tiberias, they both moved to Eilat.

In 2004, Alina moved to Herzliya where she commenced her studies towards earning a Personal Training Certificate at the American-Israel Fitness college. Life, it seemed, was finally beginning to smile at her. She was on her way to realize her childhood dream.

In October of that year, Alina was preparing for her final exams in the course. She needed a break and, along with her mom, went on holiday at the Hilton Hotel in the resort town of Taba in the Sinai Peninsula. She was planning on doing her studies in the tranquility of the relaxing desert atmosphere. That vacation changed her life and shaped its destined path in every respect.

Many Yisraelis may recall October 7^th of 2004 as the day in which two devastating terror attacks took place in two resorts frequented by Yisraeli travelers. The Hilton Taba was one of them.

Alina was sitting just outside the hotel lobby reading her course notes when a powerful blast ripped through the hotel. It was caused by two separate car bombs each carrying 200kg of explosives detonated in the lobby. He mother was upstairs in the room.

The scars caused by the many pieces of flying glass that hit Alina are etched on her body. They are an eternal reminder of that devastating day, a day that marked a turning point in her life.

With each passing moment of her long and painful recovery, following the terror attack, Alina felt weakness leaving her body. She was getting stronger not only physically but also emotionally. The “skinny and sickly” young girl from Khabarovsk was fading away into parts of a very remote past. Determination to defy all odds filled every cell in Alina’s body. If she can challenge death, she decided, she can overcome any of life’s tests.

Her attempt to study for the final exam of her course were one of those tests. The blood-soaked notebooks and her scarred body refused to let the waves of grief that threatened her troubled soul to subside. At the same time, Alina was determined not to let victimhood dictate her life. She would study and pass her exams! Failure was one term that evaporated from her vocabulary. Her efforts paid off. She passed her exams with flying colours and earned her certificate.

Something else happened to Alina on the day she survived the terror attack. She realized WHY she survived. “Mom,” she called her mother one day, “I am going to convert to Judaism. My maternal grandfather was Jewish. His People became a nation on Mount Sinai. I am coming back Home.”

Alina embarked on the journey of Halachic conversion to Judaism. Several months later, her mother joined her.  The sliver of hope on the cloudy skies of Alina’s life was getting wider.

In 2007, Alina gave birth to a beautiful boy. “I named him Roniel,” she told me as she turned around, exposed part of her upper back and pointed at one of her scars. It was in the clear and defined shape of the Hebrew letter Reish. “Roniel is my precious gift. He is part of my reward and the soothing balm to my bruised soul.”

Alina’s regained inner strength has pushed her to take her dream even further. This year, she has participated in three body building competitions. The first, Nabba - Israel where she earned first place in the 40+ category. The second WBF – Israel where she earned second place in the bikini 35+ category. She also earned second place in the NAC competition of bikini 40+.

 

“Though my resolve to turn my life into a success came from within me,” she told me when we met for lunch last week, “I am very grateful to my partner, Oded Saba, for his ongoing support and encouragement through this journey.”

The balance of beauty, wisdom and determination that Alina has been blessed with are the traits that have brought her thus far and have made her a role model to many.
  

We wish her the best of luck and every blessing! 🇮🇱 🏆 🇮🇱

That Second Most Important Day

This article is dedicated to my students, past, present and future

“The two most important days in your life are the day you are born and the day you find out why.” – Attributed to Mark Twain

The gift of Life is a miracle though there are those who may not always perceive it as such.  As Life unfolds itself, many are in search for its meaning, the question of “Why was I born and what is my purpose in this Life?” preoccupies many. Philosophers, writers, poets and great minds as well as ordinary people have often pondered over it through the years. Some have offered answers, others gave up. Though the answer may not have always been the one many yearned for, finding out the “Why” has certainly changed their life forever.

For me, the day I discovered the “Why,” was when my life turned into a bliss.

It happened one cool morning, in October 1973. Earlier that year, I was accepted at Tel-Aviv University to commence my studies towards an undergraduate degree in Philosophy and Greek Studies (not my first choice, English was. Why I was not accepted to the English Department is a topic on its own and for another article. I was devastated for rwo reasons. The first, English Literature is a great love of mine. The second, I needed to work for a living. From experience, it also occurred to me that I had never come across an ad in the “wanted Section” of any paper, an ad which read “A Philosopher needed”).

As many of you may recall, October 1973 is when the Yom Kippur War was raging. The academic year at the university was postponed until further notice. It was a difficult and uncertain time both nationally and personally.

Since I could not picture myself sitting helplessly with folded hands during the long days of war, I decided to enlist some of my skills and contribute, in my own small way, to the war effort. I elected to volunteer at a local school and teach our young ones in place of those teachers who had to join the army in defense of our Homeland.

That was when I experienced the second “most important day” of my life for the first time. As I was watching those beautiful innocent faces, living under the shadow of war and at no fault of their own, in the only place that Jews could call “Home,”  I suddenly realized “Why” I was born. I was born to be a teacher. 

The following day, I called Tel-Aviv University, informed them that I would not attend their institution and applied to a nearby Teachers’ College where I was accepted and where I eventually earned my Teachers’ Certificate.

I have never looked back.

Since then, I have had many fulfilling such “most important days,” each reaffirming what I discovered on that dreary, sad day in October 1973. And for that, I can only thank those who have made that day more and more significant, meaningful and soaked with great learning curves with each passing year: my wonderful students.

You, dear, precious souls, have enriched my life immensely!

I Love you all and send you a big "Thank you" wherever you are. 🇮🇱 　 🇮🇱

The Dream Refuses to Die

I really believed it was possible.

I believed that in times of calm and absence of war, Jews could live in Peace with each other. I wanted to believe that a shared Past, Present and Future could forge us here in Eretz Yisrael into one cohesive unit.

I wished for one moment, one brief moment that we all shell our differences and appreciate each other irrespective of their views. I envisioned a day where foul language and name calling will be part of a fading past and replaced with "agreeing to disagree."

To say that I was never guilty of any attempts to discredit others, sometimes in a language that was always devoid of criticism or cynicism, would be a lie.

I can, however, say that I never stooped down to some of the levels that I witness others do. Engaging in that would be against anything I was raised to value.

Recent events here have shattered that dream. Jews accusing each other for failing to fulfill that which is expected of us by our esteemed and noble tradition. Finger pointing has become an almost daily practice and the accusations are getting uglier with each passing day.

I cannot but hear the deafening cries of The Image of G-d, that spark of goodness within each of us imploring to be rekindled. The principles of an ancient and sometimes invisible and often forgotten covenant are pleading and begging to emerge and shine.

Will we ever be able to collect the millions of pieces and build a better, more exalting Jewish world?

The fighter in me refuses to give up and extinguish that wish, that hope. The optimist in me deeply believes, in some of the unexplored creases of my Jewish essence that it will come true.

My only question is, what will it take and how long.

Dance Me to the End of Love

I trust most of us are familiar with the song by Leonard Cohen which bears the titular name.

Several years ago, I was made aware of the following quote by Cohen when he was asked about the meaning of that song:

“I don’t think anyone needs to know what gave me the image of the 'burning violin' but there were these little orchestras the Germans put together in the concentration camps. They played while people were being incinerated or gassed. If you want to read the song from that point of view, it becomes something quite different.”

That is the point of view I chose to read it from when I decided to teach it to my students before Yom HaShoah. And what an experience it was for all of us.

When I handed the song to them, I asked them to read it silently and share their impressions of it. To most of them, it amounted to no more than a love story between a man and a woman who have lived a full life sprinkled with episodes of joy, crisis, love and pain. None of them even remotely related it to the Shoah.

In order to make my choice of interpretation of this song clearer to them, I decided to focus on a few lines which, at least for me, reinforced the notion that I was trying to convey to them. I pointed to the first line.

“Dance me to your beauty with a burning violin…”

Though all my students were familiar with the history of the Shoah, many, unfortunately, were not aware of the quartets or “little orchestras” that the Nazis put together to welcome the new inmates of the concentration camps. They were composed mostly of violins.

Naturally, when considered from my point of view, the burning violin, mentioned in the first line, is a reference to the fate of many of the residents who were burned in the ovens of those camps.

“Dance me to the panic till I’m gathered safely in…” is the next line I drew their attention to. Of course, they have all been introduced to the conditions in which those doomed to death were brought to the camps. They have seen movies and photos; they have heard testimonies about the freight trains they were pushed and crammed into. They know about the poor sanitary conditions on cattle cars, the stench, the hunger, death and despair. Who would not be experiencing “panic” under such conditions?

What most of them did not know, though, is that the Nazis had lied to the Jews and promised them that the trains they were about to embark were for the purpose of relocating them to a “nice, safer place,” a “new home.” Many Jews believed these lies and were fooled by them. What reasons did they have to think otherwise? Hence, in my view, the shred of faith echoed in the words “till I’m safely gathered in.”

“Oh, let me see the beauty when the witnesses are gone…” is where many of my students realized why I chose to teach that song the way I did. They, like many other fellow Jews, are aware that those who witnessed the Shoah, those who lived to tell and share the horrors they had been through, abate in numbers. Soon, there will be none left. It will, then, be my task, as a daughter of two Shoah survivors, to ensure that “Never Forget” is alive. After me, it is them who will have to bear the torch of that vow and ensure that it is never extinguished. They are ready for that.

Finally, we reached the line referring to the children, our most precious asset. “Dance me to the children who are asking to be born…” a line that melts a frozen river in me, breaks a dam, frees the gushes of tears that surge in my eyes and blurs my vision each time I hear it.

The first time I read that line, I recalled Ryunosuke Akutagawa’s book Kappa, a science fiction describing Japan in the early 20^th century. One of the ideas discussed in this book is that, after they are presented with an overview of what life has in store for them, the soon to be born babies of Kappa can choose or refuse to be born. Most of them choose to be aborted.

Unlike the children of Kappa, Cohen’s babies are asking for practicing their right, and our duty to allow them “to be born.” After all, it is in accordance with that which the Torah commands us, “And you should choose Life!”

As I was about to finish the lesson, I looked around the classroom. The silence that prevailed, the bittersweet scent of the air we were breathing as the rays of the shining sun were alighting the room and their beautiful faces, I knew that from then on, this song will not be just another song they hear and enjoy. In Cohen’s own words, it has “become something quite different,” a more meaningful piece of poetry, one that connects them to our People’s past and their role in its future.

Shabbat Shalom 

Peace and Unity among us

My dear friend, Dr. Mordechai Kedar once told me, while co-authoring an article with him, "we cannot fight that which is Right by using and employing that which is Wrong."

These words have resonated with me always, more so in recent days.

Last week, we Yisraelis, commemorated Yom Hashoah and paying tribute to our six million brothers and sisters who perished in the Shoah. Today, we honour the fallen heroes who gave their lives during Yisrael's unending wars of existence. We also remember the victims of Terrorism. 

Each year, on both occasions, our nation stops whatever it is doing and stood united while the sirens are wailing, reminding us how the shared pain and suffering inflicted upon our People has joined us together and forged us into one cohesive group.

It is these brief moments that I longed for and would have given anything to experience and relive during all the long years that I resided in the Galut. It was not the pain, neither the mourning nor the grief that I longed for. Rather, it was the unity that they sowed and produced even for a brief moment.

Last week, just like yesterday and today, as I was standing still, along with the millions of my Yisraeli brothers and sisters, sharing the sense of togetherness and devotedness, I asked myself, "why can't it be like that always? Why do we need bereavement to remind us of the need to remain united? Why not let our shared history, glorious present and promising future be the criss - cross threads in the fabric of our nationhood?"

It is at moments like these, that I recall Dr. Kedar's wise words.

It is then that the troubling gnawing questions keep surfacing. How can we be united when many of us continue to use language which contributes to nothing but merely to deepening the divide? How can we expect unity and Peace among us when in order to achieve these desirable RIGHT and wishful results we use, instead, the WRONG means and the WRONG compass to negotiate the challenging terrain that could get us there?

Rather than dignifying differences, we shun and humiliate that which is foreign to us. At every opportunity, we wage war on anyone and anything that disagrees with us.

How can we live with each other when instead of exchanging, some resort to insults and name calling? How can we allow Peace to settle among us when each time we run out of good and logical arguments, many  start throwing curse words and using foul language at each other?

But most importantly, how can we remain a family when we put the needs of others before those of our own, needs which are in dire need of attention? If one of the founding principles of our heritage is "Kol Yisrael Arevim Zeh lazeh" (All of Yisrael are guarantors for one another), why can we not think of our own FIRST, adhere to it and put our People’s needs before those of others?


After all, isn’t that what those who we commemorate today had in their essence when they rushed to defend us in war? Did they not choose that which is RIGHT to beat that which is WRONG when they entered the battlefield? Did they not put themselves, as Arevim for us, before all?

May Am Yisrael finally learn the lesson of the old adage “United we stand, Divided we fall.”

Happy Birthday Medinat Yisrael 

Judaism and Health

“The well-being of the soul can be obtained only after that of the body has been secured.” Moses Maimonides.

The maintenance of good health has been of prime importance in Judaism. Cleanliness, in Judaism, is a duty that is prescribed by G-d and the Torah has dedicated several portions to dealing with the matter. It is essential to Holiness, we are told, one of the attributes of the relationship between G-d and Am Yisrael, Am Kadosh (“For you are a People Holy to the Lord your G-d” Deuteronomy 14:2). This week’s Parashah, Tazria, is, likewise, dedicated to this fundamental duty.

The Talmud also stresses the importance of cleanliness. It decreed various ordinances relating to the gravity of hygiene, personal and public. One of them, for instance, compels Jews to wash their hands many times during the day in what is known as the ritual of of Netilat Yadayim, the washing of the hands. A Jew could not eat without performing that ritual first. Jews were required to wash their hands, after leaving the bathroom and following any intimate engagement.

I can almost see some eyebrows being raised at reading this directive. Though, in today’s world, for many of us the need to wash one’s hands is obvious and has become part of our behavioural patterns, in past times it was far from being the usual sanitary standard.  In this respect, Judaism was unique. It was a custom that, on more than one occasion, helped preserve our People.

One example that comes to mind is the Black Plague that swept through Europe during the 14^th century. At the time, many claimed that the Jews died at only half the rate of the general population. That, provided it is true, can be attributed to sanitary customs prescribed by Jewish law. These also include the emphasis on strict burial practices which among others also helped stop the spread of the bubonic plague and typhus among other epidemics.

Another example to the Jewish emphasis on health and which is more closely related to this week’s Parashah is the value of family purity.

I remember years ago, as part of my studies towards a graduate degree in Public Health Administration (M.P.H.) at UC Berkeley in the late 70’s, I attended an Epidemiology course. During one of the lessons, our lecturer mentioned that doctors and scientists found correlation between the lower incidence of cervical cancer and the observance of the laws pertaining to family purity by Jewish women than among their counterpart in the general population.

This was later further confirmed in an article entitled “ Mitzvah and Medicine: Gender, Assimilation and the Scientific Defense of ‘Family Purity’,” written by Beth S. Wenger and published by the Indiana University Press (Vol.5,1/2, Autumn, 1988-Winter, 1999). The abstract of the article states:
“Between 1920 and 1940, the medical community joined religious commentators in advocating abstention from intercourse during a woman’s menstrual flow, as dictated by Jewish Law. Physicians and scientists observed that Jewish women suffered from cervical cancer less frequently than their non-Jewish counterparts. Attributing these statistics to Jewish ritual observance, medical experts found rational grounds for supporting the maintenance of religious custom.”

In addition to earning my aforementioned M.P.H. degree, I also completed my diploma as a Personal Trainer in Health and Fitness (http://www.bat-zion.name/html/the_art_of_living_well.html). As part of that, I regularly research the subject and am always in awe to learn more on how our Jewish tradition and some of our great Jewish scholars like Maimonides and others were leaders in this area long before the other parts of humanity.

Shabbat Shalom