A great day in history

Today, is Yom Haatzmaut, the day DovBear celebrates the anniversary of the marvelous and miraculous day in 2005 when Hirhurim finally linked to one of my posts.

Psss Gil. You're WAY overdue for another one.

(Read the post. It's good, by which I mean excellent)

A great day in history

Today we celebrate the anniversary of the marvelous day in 2005 when Hirhurim finally linked to one of my posts. I believe this remains the only time Gil has deigned to notice me, despite his having received favorable mentions on this blog several dozen times. (Note: A handful of slightly critical mentions of Gil are mixed in with the positives ones you''ll find by clicking the links above. I know of no way to exclude them from the collection.)

Anywho, the post follows (Click here and here to see the long and interesting comment threads that accompanied the post the two previous times it appeared .)

Are you wearing blue and white today?

Typical, but no one I know wants to have a deep and insightful Yom Haatzmaut conversation about the meaning of Zionism in 2005, the success of the state, or anything like that. Apparently, I live among the stupid people.

All anyone seems to care about is this: Should we say tachanun? Should we say Hallel? With a brocha? Without a brocha? So let's have at it.

Tachanun: Don't say it, especially if you're a Hasid. Why? Because Hasidim, typically, take every possible excuse to avoid saying this prayer. They don't say it at mincha. Many won't say it on Friday or Sunday. They skip it on important yartzheits. Lubovs, in fact, skip it on the day their Rebbe was released from jail. So why not skip it on the day that every Jew in the world was released from jail? We non-Hasidim should skip it, too. There are old sources that recommend skipping tachanun on market days, and other days of public celebration. On a day when most of the Jews in the world are celebrating, Tachanun seems inappropriate.

Hallel: Don't say it. I think it's presumptuous for an ordinary person to go around praising God whenever he feels like it. We're little. He's big. And when a small person praises something tremendous, the praise tends to be insufficient, or worse insulting. Could any of us non-physicists adequately praise Einstein or Newton? Or course not. It would be a joke. Moreover, if you say Hallel (with a brocha anyway) you are saying that you are 100 percent certain that Yom Haatzmaut was a miraculous act of God. Happy as I am to have Israel in Jewish hands, I can't read God's mind. I'm arrogant, yes, but not arrogant enough to say that I know God's plan. To me abstaining from Hallel is a demonstration of humility.

With or without a brocha? I think a full hallel (with a brocha anyway) is a tremendous error. “God is not happy at the downfall of the wicked. ... When the angels tried to sing songs of praise to God at the Red Sea, God silenced them: ‘My handiwork, my human creatures, are drowning in the sea and you want to sing a song of praise?’” (T.B. Megillah 10b) For this reason, we say a half-Hallel on the last six days of Pesach. And how many Arabs died on Yom Haatzmaut related events? It seems to me that if we can temper our Pesach celebrations out of respect for people who enslaved us for 210 years, we can recognize the humanity of Arabs on Yom Haatzmaut, as well.

Search for more information about Yom Haazmaut at 4torah.com.

The Uncertainty of Yom Ha'atzmaut

A Guest Post by Rafi G
(originally posted on LII)

I suspect there are a lot of people who will identify with what I write in this post. Despite that, I only speak for myself, as I will describe my own conundrum.

Yom Ha'atzmaut is a day of doubt and uncertainty for me.

I do not mean "what do I think of the State?". I mean how do I celebrate that.

By nature I am a very patriotic person. I love Eretz Yisrael and I love Medinat Yisrael. I sometimes do not like things any specific government might do, and think they are going against the values I think should be promoted, but as a State, I love Israel.

We might forget 61 years later, but the State was founded with the goal of creating a homeland for the Jewish people. Nobody wanted us back then. Now we look back and say we could have lived anywhere. But when we say that, we are saying with the perspective and history of 61 years that would be completely different if not for the State of Israel.

The State gave us the ability to live as Jews in our own country, and it also gave us the ability to live as Jews in other countries. Ask any holocaust survivor, ask anybody who was around at the formation of the State and they will describe to you how everything was different, in western countries, after the State was founded. Nowadays we have the freedom and forgetfulness to gripe about how bad the State is while ignoring the fact that it is only because we have a State that we have the ability to live as Jews freely. Yes, even in the United States.

So what is my doubt and uncertainty? I live in and am part of the greater haredi world. For all intents and purposes, in the range of haredi, I fall somewhere within. Maybe in a specific niche of mixed ideas and beliefs - mixed with more open-mindness than the average haredi, more liberalism, more zionism, more independence, etc. But I am part of the general haredi world.

As I said, I am a patriot. I love Israel. On Yom Ha'atzmaut I feel the pride and the patriotism bursting out, just as I feel the sorrow on Yom Ha'Zikaron, and just as I feel the weight of history on Yom Ha'Shoah.

Yet because I am part of the general haredi world, that sense of pride has to be suppressed to a certain extent - more than I would like. If not, then there would be repercussions. It is my decision to be part of that world, and therefore my own fault, to a certain extent, but I do not think I am in a unique situation.

What is one to do? I feel the pride, but I am not allowed to celebrate. Even worse is that I do not know why. Other than a few platitudes about how the State is secular, I have no idea why the rabbonim are, at best, so ambiguous, or perhaps "ambivalent" is more accurate, to the State and Independence Day.

I am not claiming the rabbonim should declare us all to say hallel. That does not interest me. That is a purely halachic debate, and I am fine with whichever side you put yourself on. If you feel it is halachicly right to say hallel, say it. If not, don't say it. I can accept both opinions. I am talking about the general celebrating of the occasion. One can not say hallel, but still wave the flag and be joyous about the momentous occasion.

So why don't we, in the general haredi world? Why are we afraid that if we wave the flag we will be ostracized? Why will we be ostracized if we wave the flag?

I don't know.

The rabbonim and shuls all plan programs for the day of Yom Ha'Atzmaut. Programs of learning Torah for men who are normally at work but have the day off. It is great to be able to spend part of the day in the beis medrash learning. They plan special shiurim usually - perhaps even on interesting topics. But do they ever plan a shiur on the topic of Yom Ha'atzmaut? Do they ever explain to us that it is ok to celebrate somehow, or if it is not ok why it is not ok? All I know is that it is not accepted, but I have no idea why.

The mere existence of the State has given our nation so much, that I have no understanding of why it is wrong to celebrate it. It seems that if the special shiur was on the topic of Yom Haatzmaut (either explaining why it is right or wrong to celebrate), aside from the fact that that beis medrash hosting such a shiur would likely be packed that day because so many people want to hear a torahdikke discussion on the inyan, many people would know how to approach the day properly - with direction from their rav via the shiur.

the way it is, people want to celebrate somehow, think they cannot, don't know why, and have nobody to turn to. They think that if they ask then they will look too much like a Zionist and their kids will be thrown out of school, they will be chased out of the neighborhood/community, or just thought of as being too modern.

Why can we not get guidance on this?

(I am not looking for someone to write in the comments an explanation of why we do not celebrate Yom Ha'atzmaut, though feel free to do so if you wish to. I am looking to understand why the rabbonim do not talk about it and give us the Torah perspective how to relate to the day)

Search for more information about [topic] at 4torah.com.

Conflicting customs, and some musings on the vanishing middle

I sometimes find it amusing to document the differences between the various Orthodox Jewish sects, many of which are obvious, and well known. This one, I think, is not.

I grew up in the unquestionably frum middle, in a shul that wasn't modern, yeshivish, or Hasidic. We were just Jews. Our Rav was an old school alumni of a place like the Mir who was equally impatiant with fads and shtick. He wore a hat, but no beard. He was an open, unabashed supporter of Israel who permitted a prayer for the state, but allowed no adjustments to the liturgy for Yom Haatzmaut. We sang v'ayihee b'nishoah haaron and mee chamocha with the traditional Western European tune, but it wasn't unusual to hear Lecho Dodi or High Holiday piyutim set to Hasidic melodies and we skipped anim zmiros. We said hakafot on Shmini Atzeres and Yotzros on the holidays, but our nusach was ashkenaz, and though many of our mispallaim wore hats and gartels many more wore knitted kippot. It was, I now see, the best of all worlds.

After my mother gave birth to my youngest sister, she thought it might be nice to bentch gomel on the shabbos she returned to shul. The Rav said no, and I thought nothing of it. The ruling seemed perfectly in keeping with the practices of our shul, and I accepted it as normative Judaism. Years later, when I started having children of my own, I discovered it was common in places like Teanek for post-partum women to approach the mechitzah and say this blessing aloud. I confess to not having quite gotten over my surprise.

Meanwhile, on the other side of the chasm, another surprise awaited. Several years ago, when my last child arrived, the shul gabbai volunteered to bring a minyan to my wife's hospital room. I was nearly thirty, FFB, and had spent my life in Orthodox congregations, but still completely unacquainted with the custom he was trying to accommodate. "She needs to say borchu with a minyan before going out in public," he explained. Really? I'd never heard of such a thing, and even now the idea of it remains as strange to me as the image of a women reciting a blessing out loud in shul. [Author's note: I'm not saying its wrong. I'm saying I find it strange. I'd welcome the chance to review some source material on it.]

I've been a round the block a few times since that conversation with the shul gabbai. I've met many Orthodox Jews, and been to many Orthodox Jewish shuls, and my hunch is that today most of us belong to the sect that permits women to bentch gomel, or to the sect that requires post partum women to respond to a minyan before they are allowed to venture outdoors by themselves. I'm not sure there is a third postion on this question. The pox-on-both-your-houses middle, the sect that said "no" to shtick and "no" to fad, "no" to fasion, and "no" to excessive, anacronistic piety, seems, like my childhood shul, to have disapeared.
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A Torah True proof that Yom Haatzmaut is minHashamayim

The letters ATBASH are an acronym for the first and last letters of the Hebrew alphabet AT = aleph/tav BASH = bes/shim, and ATBASH is a way of predicting when Jewish holidays will fall, based on Pasover

It works like this:

The first day of Passover (alef) and Tisha B'av (tav) always fall on the same day of the week.

The second day of Passover (bes) is always on the same day of the week as the following Shavuot (shin)

The third day of Passover (gimmel) comes out on the same day of the week as Rosh Hashana (resh)

With me so far?

Ok, the fourth day of Passover (daled) always falls on the same day of the week as Simchas Torah. This connection is a bit of a stretch, but daled corresponds to kuf, which is the first letter of the word Kriah "reading." Simchat Torah, of course, is when the reading cycle begins again.

Now it gets a little better

The fifth day of Passover (hay) corresponds to the day of the week that Yom Kippur falls. Yom Kippur is a Tzom, which is how we tie in the letter tzaddi.

Day six (vav) and Purim (pay) are always on the same day of the week

And, guess what? Day seven (zayin) and Yom Haazamaut (ayin) also correspond.

Secular coercion

A Guest Post by Rafi G.

I was listening to the radio tonight and the host of the talk show was discussing the Yom Ha'Zikaron siren. He mentioned an interview from earlier in the day that raised a very interesting point.

The interview was between some other radio host, Yaron Dekel, a secular Jew, and Amnon Levi, another secular Jew who is a journalist for Yediot Acharonot among other news media. Amnon Levi is an interesting character. he is extremely secular and extremely left wing, but he worked for a while as a correspondent to the Haredi community, and also wrote a best-selling book about Haredi lifestyle. That gave him the opportunity to understand the Haredi position and lifestyle, somewhat, and despite his previous prejudice and his worldview on other issues, he retains a sensitivity and understanding of Haredim that other journalists do not have.

Anyways, back to the interview.

So Dekel is talking to Levi about the Yom HaZikaron siren and asks him, due to his "expertise" on the topic of Haredim, about Haredim not standing still during the siren.

Levi's response was very interesting.

Levi said, first of all that most Haredim do stand (at least in public) still and are not provocative. It is some who do not, but they should not be lumped together.

Regarding those who do not, he explained that the drive by the majority of Israelis (in the press), secular Jews for the most part, to insist on Haredim standing still is really a form of secular coercion and the insistence on following around haredim looking for the one who does not stand still and then attacking Haredim because of those who do not is really a form of incitement..

Levi explained; Let us imagine that Shas, or another Haredi party, took over the government and was the ruling party. Let's say they decided to change the rules and say that the way to commemorate Yom Ha'Zikaron (and Yom Ha'Shoah) was not to stand for a moment of silence, but to go to the nearest shul and say Kaddish for the memory of your fallen relatives/friends.

Imagine that scenario. He asked Dekel what would your reaction, as a secular Jew, be?

Dekel's response was that no way would that be acceptable. Religious coercion and the like.

Levi turned that around and said that it is the same thing but the other way. The Haredim have their own way of commemorating their fallen. And they also have people who died in wars or terror or the Shoah, and they too commemorate them, in their preferred methods. So it does not include standing still, rather it includes tehillim or kaddish or something else.

It is not like they are not commemorating the fallen, just they wish to commemorate the fallen using the methods they believe in and their religion advocates. For us to impose our method upon them is secular coercion and incitement. We should let them, and others, commemorate the day in the way that they believe is appropriate.

Of course, I would like to add, that does not give anybody the right to act like the crazies that made the news tonight for rioting against Yom HaZikaron....but it does refer to most of the Haredi public.

Some food for thought.

----Updated------
I got hold of the original interview with Amnon Levi (audio in Hebrew, but not difficult Hebrew), and have posted it at LII for anyone interested in hearing what he said....

Belated Yom Haatzmaut Post III

Jerusalem

On a roof in the Old City
laundry hanging in the late afternoon sunlight.
the white sheet of a woman who is my enemy,
the towl of a man who is my enemy,
to wipe off the sweat of his brow.

In the sky of the Old City
a kite
At the other end of the string,
a child
I can't see
because of the wall.

We have put up many flags,
they have put up many flags,
to make us think that they're happy.
To make them think that we're happy.

Yehuda Amichai (1924-2000)

Belated Yom Haatzmaut Post II

Chardal said something smart. It's here.

Belated Yom Haatzmaut Post I

Why is the obviously man-made holiday we, in the diaspora, celebrate on say, the "eighth" of Pesach or Succos any different from the man-made holiday celebrating the creation of the state of Israel? And if you're going to say that YA celebrates a military victory, and a secular deliverance there's precedant for that, too. Remember Purim? And not just the original Purim, but the local Purims established by Jewish communities to celebrate their own secular deliverance from anti-Semites and tyrants.

Can't we think of YA as just another local Purim?

Dear DovBear

I had a hard time deciding what to call this post. My first thought was “A Passionate Yearning for Zoboomafoostan”, but decided to leave that for my reply to XGH.

Dear DovBear,

Keeping your mantra in mind of “trying to run an interesting blog”, I decided the best way to reply to your excellent fisking of my Eretz Yisrael posting would be a personalized letter to you instead of starting a fiskathon. By excellent, I mean that in terms of blogging standards, you definitely win high marks for style, diction, iambic pentameter and spelling – it was entertaining to read, yet I think you missed the point…which is why I’m writing this.

Most importantly, it should be obvious to all, that using blue and white underwear as a statement of one’s allegiance (or not) to the Zionist “nation-state” entity, cannot possibly be construed as anything but a joke, regardless of being said by you, myself, or others.

However, you seem to have me all wrong. Not once in my posting did I write anything about “Zionism”…the passion I wrote about was for the land of Israel…and that there’s a glass that’s two-third’s full when it comes to the Judaism of the people living here. One doesn’t have to be a “Zionist” to live in Israel, or have the passion for the land and it’s people.

You don’t have to be a “Zionist” at all to appreciate where we are now…just look at the Jewish people over the past two thousand years and compare it to now to see what great shape we’re in!

When you wrote that had Rav Yehuda HaLevi been able to see the future creation of the nation-state in 1948, he probably would have been disappointed – how do you think Moshe Rabbeinu viewed the Jewish people when they left Egypt? I would bet that the Jews leaving Egypt highly resembled a scene from the central bus station of Tel-Aviv.

Exile does have it’s problems for a Jew’s spiritual health – be it Egypt or Babylon or Budapest or Boropark -- and it will take time to revitalize the Jewish people in Israel to the realization of proper observance.

I’ll even let you in on a secret – I didn’t really grow up waving an Israeli flag. The yeshivot I went to for junior-high and high school never said Hallel on Yom Haatzmaut, (they said tachanun), they never sang Hatikva, and they didn’t plant JNF trees either. I don’t even know what sort of “Zionist spark” you thought I was looking for you to find – I wanted to provoke, prod, goad, encourage you to write about Israel, (be it the land, Jerusalem, the nation-state, Zionism, or anything in-between).

On a serious note, G-d forbid that I may have inadvertently implied that only the 2 groups I mentioned before are dedicated and fierce fighting soldiers – there are many great soldiers fighting for Israel’s defense from many parts of the country. However, in the last 2 weeks of the war, many articles were written in the Israeli press, many radio stations discussed the issue (I heard Razi Barkai discuss it on 3 different occasions on IDF radio) – that there is a disproportionate amount of representation of kibbutznikim/moshvanikim and religious-nationalists in combat units, and that a minimum of 40% of the IDF combat officer’s courses, are kippa wearing soldiers. Manpower Division commander, Elazar Stern also reported this in the media, and got a lot of flak for saying that Tel-Aviv had very little representation in combat units. Those are the statistics from the IDF, not from me. (And I apologize, if anyone understood otherwise – and I thank every soldier who serves in the IDF, defending the country so that Jews can live in Israel).

The key point I was making in my post was that with all the problems that Israel has, (and Ehud Olmert as Prime Minister disgusts me more than you, trust me), was that regardless of being less than perfect, there’s still something about the place that evokes a passion. Even a DovBear like you wants your kids to learn Hebrew – the reinvented language by the frei maskilim, even you said that you would like to live in Israel (you wrote that in a MEME last year)...

The points I raised were about the unity that was evident over the past month during the war. The volunteerism I wrote about was NOT the conscripted soldiers (though I know many soldiers who volunteered to fight in Lebanon without waiting for a tzav-shmoneh), but about the volunteerism of Magen David Adom emergency service or all those who don't have to volunteer but still went up North, and helped out. Those who baked and cooked for volunteers or for those less fortunate who didn't have enough. Those who went from bomb shelter to bomb shelter to offer food and aid to elderly, and puppet shows for kids. Those who put up "strangers" from the North in their homes. Lots and lots of chessed. And seeing it all -- experiencing it all was very special, and Jews from all around the world "felt something" and wanted to help as well.

Admit it. You love Israel even with all it's problems -- you wouldn't bother writing about it otherwise.

And regarding Judaism in Israel -- it's like the pit that Yosef's brothers threw him into. Rashi says it was "empty and had no water in it", and the redundancy teaches us it was full of snakes and scorpions -- nature abhors a vacuum. If Jews don't move to Israel and fill it with Torah, morality and justice -- then it will be filled with other less desirable things.

As this Elul starts -- I just wanted to wish you a happy, healthy and prosperous year. And I hope you forgive me for anything I may have written that insulted or annoyed you (except for the blue and white underwear line).

Kol Tuv!

Jameel.

PS: I was taught about Manifest Destiny in High School, and even though our secular studies department was less than stellar, we did have an excellent History teacher -- the head of the History from a nearby university (he decided that his contribution to Judaism was to teach us). His take on Manifest Destiny was that it was an expression of religion.

Answering Jameel.

Jameel snuck a post onto the blog during my absence and it's filled with mistakes. Not that I don't love Jameel with my whole heart, but here's the fisking he deserves.

Despite DovBear's assertion, one doesn't need to wear blue and white underwear, madly dance on Yom HaAtzmaut, or even hate Arabs to feel a passion for Eretz Yisrael.

My actual assertion was this: "I'm missing the intangible passion, the bit of madness that makes people want to rally and march and dance on Yom Haatzmaut. I put Jerusalem before my greatest joy, but not Israel." It said simply that I didn't feel passion in my own heart for Israel, the nation state. I said nothing about Eretz Yisreol, and the remark about blue and white underwear was a joke I used to describe myself. I did not, as Jameel implies, direct the comments about underwear and Arabs at anyone but me.

I doubt that Rav Yehuda HaLevi met any of the above criteria, but without doubt his yearning for Zion and his spiritual craving for Eretz Yisrael burned deeply in his soul when he wrote "My heart is in the East, yet I am in the end of the West."

And what would Rabbi Yehuda HaLevi had said about the nation of Israel which was created in 1948? Do you imagine he had the ability to see 900 years into the future and it was Ehud Olmert he longed for? Was he eagerly awaiting a day when most of the Jews in Israel spend Yom Kippur on the beach? Where the most tortured halachic reasoning is used to deny Arabs their homes and their humanity? Rabbi Yehuda HaLevi loved the idea of Eretz Yisroel; the state we have today is a pale reflection. For Zionists like Jameel that's enough. For the Haredim of Brooklyn and Lakewood, it isn't. Rabbi Yehuda HaLevi, I bet, would have been similarly disapointed had he lived to see the creation of Israel.

It's interesting to see this symmetry in action over the past month – unquestionably, the fiercest and most dedicated fighters in the IDF emerged from two groups: the members of Kibbutzim and Moshavim, and those from the national-religious community.

Unquestionably? What sort of survey instrument did you use to reach this rock-solid conclusion? It sounds swell, and certainly supports your cherished belief, but where's the evidence?

Seemingly an odd combination after so many years of being told that "the secular have abandoned the country" – the secular, don't look for me in a shul, even on Yom Kippur, 'cause I'm eating my ham sandwich" kibbutznik, fought shoulder to shoulder in Lebanon with religious, kippa wearing, "don't throw anyone out of Gush Katif orange wrist banded" soldiers.

What about the Israelis who are neither entirely secular, nor entirley religious? Don't they exist? Weren't they in Lebanon, too? And again, if you are going to continue to insist that their fighting was neither fierce nor dedicated, I'm going to demand some evidence. It's not nice to belittle their sacrifice simply because it doesn't support your thesis.

The homeland of the Jewish people needed defending, and both groups volunteered, with their lives, to protect it.

Volunteered? Isn't Israeli military service compulsary?

Yet our quest to live in Israel, based on our faith, is no less valid a right than the existence of the United States through the principle of Manifest Destinty which founded the US

Please don't misuse historical terms on my blog. Manifest Destiny (per Wikipedia) was a phrase that expressed the belief that the United States had a mission to expand, spreading its form of democracy and freedom. The US was not "founded" on Manifest Destiny (the phrase belongs to the 19th century) and Manifest Destiny was not rooted in religion. It's hard to even argue that it was an expression of faith. Anyway, who says it was valid? It's easy to find historians who object to Manifest Destiny on the exact same grounds that XGH uses to object to Israeli expansion. Two wrongs don't make a right, Jameel.

Eretz Yisrael offers something else, a connection to our past and future which was missing in the US... blah... blah blah blah... blah.

Very good. You've explained why you feel passion for Israel. And because you're a good writer and I'm in possesion of a decent imagination I can emphasize with your reasons, and understand your point of view. But these reasons are still your reasons, not mine. And as an argument they aren't very convincing.

Trying to pursuade me to love Israel using this approach is a little like pursuading me to love your wife. I'm sure your reasons for loving her are perfectly valid, and I'm sure I can emphasize with them and appreciate them, but they aren't going to win me over. I'm not going to suddenly fall madly in love with your wife, and reading your reasons for loving Israel hasn't kindled the Zionist spark in my heart either. Perhaps I'm too rational or too much the contrarian, or prehaps there was some great failing in my early education. As a child, I suppose I was brainwashed to hate pork, but not to love Israel, and I fear its too late to change. Sorry

A Passionate Yearning for Eretz Yisrael

by Jameel ... (cross-posted on DovBear and The Muqata)

Despite DovBear's assertion, one doesn't need to wear blue and white underwear, madly dance on Yom HaAtzmaut, or even hate Arabs to feel a passion for Eretz Yisrael.

I doubt that Rav Yehuda HaLevi met any of the above criteria, but without doubt his yearning for Zion and his spiritual craving for Eretz Yisrael burned deeply in his soul when he wrote "My heart is in the East, yet I am in the end of the West."

It's understandable that after 2000 years of exile this passionate spark is slightly dampened in so many. Where should it, where could it emerge from, burning brightly in this day and age to ignite the passion and pathos of "If I forget thee Jerusalem…if I forget you on my day of celebration?"

How many really have the destruction of Jerusalem and the Beit HaMikdash on their minds when they have a day of celebration? As mortals, we can't imagine ourselves around the clock standing in front of our Creator – the human brain can't deal with it, and we seek additional metaphors to understand the G-d/human relationship – the
father/son one works best for me. Yet, there are many Jews in Israel and around the world, for which "If I forget three Jerusalem" is still a living part of their daily lives.

The posting a few days ago on DovBear's blog, "How Deep is your Faith?" challenged many of us – if the basis for our faith is unproven, then our actions need to be carefully measured when plotting the course of Israel, and a large dose of humility thrown in for good measure.

The Torah could not agree more; we are warned explicitly to be wary of the pitfalls of arrogant military supremacy, "Kochi v'Otzem Yadi Asa Li Et HaChayil HaZeh", that "our own strength and might did for us this army." As people of faith, we need to understand that at the end of the day, our military prowess, success or failure, comes from Divine Providence. For those of us with less faith, the importance of
morality and ethics is just as important.

It's interesting to see this symmetry in action over the past month – unquestionably, the fiercest and most dedicated fighters in the IDF emerged from two groups: the members of Kibbutzim and Moshavim, and those from the national-religious community.

Seemingly an odd combination after so many years of being told that "the secular have abandoned the country" – the secular, don't look for me in a shul, even on Yom Kippur, 'cause I'm eating my ham sandwich" kibbutznik, fought shoulder to shoulder in Lebanon with religious, kippa wearing, "don't throw anyone out of Gush Katif orange wrist banded" soldiers.

For the first time in many years, the common denominator between these 2 types of Jews was glaringly apparent. The homeland of the Jewish people needed defending, and both groups volunteered, with their lives, to protect it. The issue of whether or not we could logically prove our cause was totally irrelevant -- our homeland was under
attack, our soldiers kidnapped, and the vast majority of us realized inherently that we needed to fight back.

Clearly, those soldiers have a passion for Israel, yet from where does the lack of passion for Israel come from? DovBear appreciates Israel, will teach his children Hebrew, and cares about Israel – yet at the end of the day, wants to watch from America. XGH seemingly chides us to be humble in our fight for survival, apparently implying we need to tread lightly when defending ourselves [or building the land] as we end up "land grabbing", "occupying another people" and "bombing the Lebanese" based on an unproven faith, that we believe we should live in Israel. After all, how are we any different from Hizbolla?

Yet our quest to live in Israel, based on our faith, is no less valid a right than the existence of the United States through the principle of Manifest Destinty which founded the US. To even question a Jew's right to live in Israel and defend himself – while writing from the United States which was built upon the foundations of Manifest Destiny is to blatantly ignore history, and might I add, rather haughty and audacious. Or more succinctly, the pot calling the kettle black.

But I digress.

Passion for Israel is not necessarily rooted in nationalism…or blue and white…or kibbutz socialism… Personally, when I spent my first year in Yeshiva in Israel, I didn't have "the passion" at all. Yet, by the end of the year, a quick poll in my yeshiva showed that 99% of those who came for the year would be interested in staying…in some sort of framework…many even permanently.

What drives the passion? Why does spending time in Israel – either in yeshiva, seminary, kibbutz, college, or army – why does it usually evoke a passion for Israel? I spent a summer in England's Lake District, which as stunningly beautiful as it was, didn't ignite any passion within me to want to live there. I grew up in the United
States in a frum community that catered nicely to an Orthodox lifestyle: good Jewish schooling, Kosher food, an eruv (agreed to by most), shuls, a mikva, and a suburban surrounding of grass, trees, culture and little league – yet after a year in Israel, the US and my community lost it's appeal.

Eretz Yisrael offers something else, a connection to our past and future which was missing in the US. And not only from a religious perspective – I recently walked around Raanana and was amazed at the number of secular anglo olim at the Raanana municipal park. What brought them to Israel? Why are they ALSO here in Israel? And yet…they definitely have the passion as well.

I spent time in Northern Israel during the war this past month, and was astounded by the volunteering spirit and togetherness of Israel. Families in Cental Israel's upper middle class regions were hosting families from the North…Magen David Adom, Hatzala, the Fire Department, Auxiliary Police, social workers, all had volunteers swarming to help provide reinforcements…and the amounts of food donated for Shabbat meals for these volunteers was simply overwhelming. The feeling of unity and commonality in purpose as volunteers left their families to fight in Lebanon, to volunteer, to
help, to serve, to distribute food was without a doubt, one of our finest moments as a country. That politics and differences could be put aside for a common goal was heart warming.

And this feeling crossed the boundaries of Israel and could be felt everywhere across the globe, as concerned Jews – some with more faith, some with less – but all bound up with some difficult to prove or scientifically catalog – unity, helped reignite a passion for Israel.

It may not exist for everyone, but the longing for Israel, the passion for Zion is bound up within the spiritualiy of Judiasm. It's there – so many people felt it over the past month – impossible to explain, but I would bet dollars to donuts that many, many of you reading this posting, know exactly what I'm writing about. XGH and DovBear may scoff and dismiss this posting – it's unscientific, not provable, maybe even G-d forbid just the messianic rantings of a fanatical settler.

Yet I still believe that majority of the readership here felt the stirring of the passion for Eretz Yisrael over the past month…the longing for Zion…and the unity of our people emerged with a clarity that had been missing for a long time.

It may be intangible, yet the passion for Eretz Yisrael still lives on in our people.

In our heart of hearts, the vast majority of us know it to be true.

Oh to be MO

This may come as a surprise to the Satmar Hasidim in my audience, but your humble narrator is not MO. At least not according to Rabbi Norman Lamm, the college president and seminary head who is widly thought to be the movement's high priest.

[Digression: Is is appropriate to call Rabbi Lamm the RaNal, or do we reserve acronym-based appelations exclusivly for rishonim? Perhaps, I should refer to him by the name of his most famous book, following the naming convention used for achronim. If so, is he the "Faith and Doubt" or the "Torah Umadda?" End Digression]

In a famous essay, Rabbi Lamm reminded us that Modern Orthodoxy was more or less exactly like other types of Jewish Orthodoxy, Like the Haredim and the Hasidim, Modern Orthodoxy worships the One God, and considers His commandments, as put forth in the written and Oral Torah, to be binding. Prayers must be said, female hair, knees and elbows must be coverned, and kashrus and shabbas must be observed. The claim, popular among insecure Haredim, that Modern Orthodoxy came into the world only to lessen the yoke of heaven is altogether untenable.

If there is a difference between the types of Orthodoxy, continues Rabbi Lamm, it is only because Modern Orthodoxy places an additional emphasis on certain ideas and ideals, in particular, those dealing with general areas of education, moderation, and Zionism.

Education
For Haredim and Hasidim the study of wordly wisdom is a concession to economic necessarity. Otherwise ignorance of the world is held up as a value, and secular learning is proscribed.[*] Modern Orthodoxy, ont he other hand, pursues secular education for its own sake.

Moderation
Modern Orthodoxy eschews extremism on religious and political questions. Though it looks weak to insecure Haredim, this MO's moderation comes not from a lack of commitment, but from a willingness to consider the totality of a situation without yeilding to simplistic or single minded solutions.

Zionism
And of course, Haredim and Hasidim are notoriously less interested in the health and well-being of the Jewish state.

Can you guess where Modern Orthodoxy and I part company? Over Zionism, of course.

But let's be clear: I'm as committed as anyone to the permanence of the Jewish state. I want my kids to learn Hebrew, and I want them to grow up knowing that every Jewish life, indeed every life, is precious before God. I worry about my brothers and sisters in Israel, and I support policies which I believe will make them safe and prosperous. But I am not a Zionist, in the way that other American Jews are Zionists. I'm missing the intangible passion, the bit of madness that makes people want to rally and march and dance on Yom Haatzmaut. I put Jerusalem before my greatest joy, but not Israel.

When I was a kid, I desribed this perceived flaw in my Jewish character with a joke: I said that I didn't have blue and white underwear. Later, as an older cynic, I explained my indifference by saying that I didn't hate ordinary Arabs enough to qualify as an American Zionist. But the truth is simpler: I'm just an American, and in my mind 21st century Zionism is nothing but Israeli nationalism. Nowadays, my new of explaining myself is to say that I am a non-Zionist, pleased to pray for our brothers the children of Israel, desirous of their safety and prosperity, and eager to visit and soak up the culture and atmosphere of the Jewish state, but at the end of the day, an American.

According to Norman Lamm, this attitude bars me from the church of Modern Orthdoxy, and I can't say that I disagree.

~

[*Explanation: In Pirkei Avos [5:26] Ben Bag Bag said, "Turn it over, turn it over, for everything is within it [Torah]" and Haredim take this literaly, beleiving that everythign worth knowing can be found in the Torah. Modern Orthodoxy, on the other hand, follows the Meiri who saw the passage as teaching only that any problem within the Torah itself can be solved without going outside of the Torah, and not that the Torah is the sole repository of divine and human wisdom. End explanation.]

Praying for Shalit. Or not.

Is your shul praying for the safe return of Gilad Shalit and the other
kidnapped Israeli soldiers?

Answer in the comments please.

--------

My own shul isn't offering any special prayers on behalf of the
captured soldiers. No tehillim. No mee sha bayrach. Nothing. I am not
sure why. I'd like to think that the shul's official silence is
related to the shul's official non-zionism: We don't ever say special
prayers for Israel or for the IDF, for example, and we ignore Yom
Haatzmaut and Yom Yerushalayim. But my sad hunch is that we're
formally indifferent to the plight of the soldiers because they aren't
Orthodox. I'm quite sure that if a Hasid or Yeshivish person was
imprisoned by terrorists, our reaction would be different.

A great day in history

Today we celebrate the aniversary of the marvelous day in 2005 when Hirhurim finally linked to one of my posts. Psss Gil. You're overdue for another one.

DovBear:Are you wearing blue and white today?

Typical, but no one I know wants to have a deep and insightful Yom Haatzmaut conversation about the meaning of Zionism in 2005, the success of the state, or anything like that. Apparently, I live among the stupid people.

All anyone seems to care about is this: Should we say tachanun? Should we say Hallel? With a broacha? Without a bracha? So let's have at it.

Tachanun: Don't say it, especially if you're a Hasid. Why? Because Hasidim, typically, take every possible excuse to avoid saying this prayer. They don't say it at mincha. Many won't say it on Friday or Sunday. They skip it on important yartzheits. Lubovs, in fact, skip it on the day their Rebbe was released from jail. So why not skip it on the day that every Jew in the world was released from jail? We non-Hasidim should skip it, too. There are old sources that recommend skipping tachanun on market days, and other days of public celebration. On a day when most of the Jews in the world are celebrating, Tachanun seems inappropriate.

Hallel: Don't say it. I think it's presumptuous for an ordinary person to go around praising God whenever he feels like it. We're little. He's big. And when a small person praises something tremendous, the praise tends to be insuffecient, or worse insulting. Could any of us non-physicists adequately praise Einstein or Newton? Or course not. It would be a joke.Moreover, if you say Hallel (with a brocha anyway) you are saying that you are 100 percent certain that Yom Haatzmaut was a miraculous act of God. Happy as I am to have Israel in Jewish hands, I can't read God's mind. I'm arrogant, yes, but not arrogant enought to say that I know God's plan. To me abstaining from Hallel is a demonstration of humility.

Finally, I think a full hallel (with a brocha anyway) is a tremendous error. “God is not happy at the downfall of the wicked. ... When the angels tried to sing songs of praise to God at the Red Sea, God silenced them: ‘My handiwork, my human creatures, are drowning in the sea and you want to sing a song of praise?’” (T.B. Megillah 10b) For this reason, we say a half-Hallel on the last six days of Pesach. And how many Arabs died on Yom Haatzmaut related events? It seems to me that if we can temper our Pesach celebrations out of respect for the people who enslaved us for 210 years, we can, likewise, recognize the humanity of the Arabs on Yom Haatzmaut, as well.

Are you wearing blue and white today?

Typical, but no one I know wants to have a deep and insightful Yom Haatzmaut conversation about the meaning of Zionism in 2005, the success of the state, or anything like that. Apparently, I live among the stupid people.

All anyone seems to care about is this: Should we say tachanun? Should we say Hallel? With a broacha? Without a bracha?

So let's have at it.

Tachanun: Don't say it, especially if you're a Hasid. Why? Because Hasidim, typically, take every possible excuse to avoid saying this prayer. They don't say it at mincha. Many won't say it on Friday or Sunday. They skip it on important yartzheits. Lubovs, in fact, skip it on the day their Rebbe was released from jail. So why not skip it on the day that every Jew in the world was released from jail?

We non-Hasidim should skip it, too. There are old sources that recommend skipping tachanun on market days, and other days of public celebration. On a day when most of the Jews in the world are celebrating, Tachanun seems inappropriate.

Hallel: Don't say it. I think it's presumptuous for an ordinary person to go around praising God whenever he feels like it. We're little. He's big. And when a small person praises something tremendous, the praise tends to be insuffecient, or worse insulting. Could any of us non-physicists adequately praise Einstein or Newton? Or course not. It would be a joke.

Moreover, if you say Hallel (with a brocha anyway) you are saying that you are 100 percent certain that Yom Haatzmaut was a miraculous act of God. Happy as I am to have Israel in Jewish hands, I can't read God's mind. I'm arrogant, yes, but not arrogant enought to say that I know God's plan. To me abstaining from Hallel is a demonstration of humility.

Finally, I think a full hallel (with a brocha anyway) is a tremendous error. “God is not happy at the downfall of the wicked. ... When the angels tried to sing songs of praise to God at the Red Sea, God silenced them: ‘My handiwork, my human creatures, are drowning in the sea and you want to sing a song of praise?’” (T.B. Megillah 10b) For this reason, we say a half-Hallel on the last six days of Pesach. And how many Arabs died on Yom Haatzmaut related events? It seems to me that if we can temper our Pesach celebrations out of respect for the people who enslaved us for 210 years, we can, likewise, recognize the humanity of the Arabs on Yom Haatzmaut, as well.

Yom Hashoa: How they dropped the ball

I have a healthy respect for the early Zionists, but they made at least two mistakes that resonate in our day:

1 - Yom Hashoa should be on 10 Tevet, and certainly not in Nissan.

2 - Yom Haatzmaut should be on Lag B'omer, but certainly not during Sfira.

Had they combined their new holidays with our old holidays, Jews the world-over would be able to mourn and celebrate together. And it isn't like there's no precedant for this sort of thing. Our crafty ancestors used this trick when they sabatoged Nicanor Day, and replaced it with Tannis Esther.

It's been suggested by David Williams, an expert on ancient Israel at the University of Georgia, that it was King John Hyrcanus, a descendant of the Maccabees, who shoved Nicanor Day aside in favor of Purim. Why? "Perhaps to deflect attention from Judah's victory to his own time. Or he wanted a wider celebration.''

A wider celebration. If only the early Zionists had thought along those lines.

Lies the Hasidim taught us

Here we go with another DovBear list:

Lies the Hasidim taught us

1 - Tables are better than pews
2 - Shirts that are white are better than shirts that are colored
3 - Late is better than early (when it comes to davening, or starting (and ending) shabbos)
4 - Sephard is better (and more "authentic") than ashkenaz
5 - No gebroks is better than gebroks (Corollary: Those disgusting faux "noodles" are better than kneidals.)
6 - Yiddish is better than Hebrew
7 - Lag B'omer is better than Yom Haatzmaut
8 - Skipping tachanun is better than saying it (except on Yom Haatzmaut)
9 - Long beards are better than long hair. [this line was edited at 11:46 am]
10 - Shishi is better than shlishi
11 - The Alter Rebba is better than the Rama

Lightweights, please note: I'm not arguing, for example, that ponytails are better than beards, or that pews are better than tables. I don't believe that normative Orthodox Jewish law expresses a preference, or announces a requirement, in any of the cases listed above. If you want to skip tachanun at every opportunity, fine: You have whom upon to rely. If you want to sit in a pew, rather than at a table, also fine: This says nothing about your character, your ahavas hashem or your yiras hashem.

Unfortunately, in my experience, many hasidim, and those under their influence, think differently and from this much needless sinas chinan has followed.