Once Upon a Time

I went to the Kotel every week and it was one of the highlights of my life. With time, though, going there began to be routine and I didn’t want that special place to lose its magic for me. So, I thought long and hard about how I could recapture the enthusiasm I’d always had for the privilege of being able to pray at the site my ancestors had only dreamed about. HaShem sent a solution, a solution I didn’t like, a solution named Corona. The Kotel became off-limits for a long time. Even after it reopened going there has become a much different experience. The Kotel tunnels where I once loved praying are barred. The open plaza is now divided into cubicles surrounded by opaque plastic. Each stall bears a sign stating that the space is limited to twenty worshippers and all must wear a mask. Instead of viewing the other women there with love, as my partners in prayer, I tend to look at them with suspicion, wondering if they’ve been close to anyone sick with Covid19. Recently I’d found myself a reasonably isolated spot for my prayers and then a teenage girl came into my space. As I moved my chair backwards, I noticed she had a mask, but it was only over her chin. Annoyed, I rebuked her, “At least put on your mask.” My directive was ignored and I moved even farther away. Just a few minutes later one of the guards entered the area and I motioned to him that she wasn’t covering her face properly. Obviously, it was not an unusual occurrence for him. With patience he calmly said, “Tzadekah*, put your mask on.” She also ignored him and I mumbled, “Apparently she’s not such a righteous person.” Later, I was appalled at my words. How could I have been so judgmental? If I look closely in the mirror, I will not see someone perfect but rather a fallible human being. I want to be judged favorably so I need to return the favor to others. Maybe that girl has a medical reason that excuses her from covering her mouth and nose. Maybe, as a teenager, she doesn’t think rules apply to her. Maybe she thought she had the mask on and was so absorbed in her prayers that she didn’t hear either me or the guard. Since I’m not acquainted with her I have no way of knowing. Chanukah is the holiday in which we light up the heavy darkness of the long winter nights with candles commemorating the miracle HaShem made for us. Although our daily prayers contain a plea for the miracle of the rebuilding of the Holy Temple, on Chanukah these prayers take on a special poignancy. It is my belief that we all have the power to bring that miracle about by improving our behavior between ourselves and G-d AND between ourselves and others. That girl at the Kotel was wrong not to follow the rules but that doesn’t mean she’s an evil person. All the parenting books, and the Torah, teach us to condemn someone’s actions, not the person. If I can truly internalize this lesson, then I believe I will be doing my part of laying one of the cornerstones for the biggest miracle of all. Then I’ll be able to tell stories of once upon the time. Once upon a time the Kotel was the only remaining part of the Holy Temple. Once upon a time war and disease were part of daily life. Once upon a time people didn’t know how to get along with each other. May those “once upon a times” soon become our past! *righteous person

My novel, Growing With My Cousin, a good winter read, is available at Jewish bookstores and on line at https://mosaicapress.com/product/growing-with-my-cousin-a-tale-of-love-life-and-land/ or http://www.feldheim.com/growing-with-my-cousin.html or https://www.amazon.com/Growing-Cousin-Ester-Katz-Silvers/dp/194635113X/ or from my home.

So Much to Be Thankful For

The following was written six years ago and, although our Shabbat/Thanksgiving plans have been affected by Covid, we still hope to eat a turkey and concetrate on all the good we have been given.

We’ve all been there. Someone we know and love is having a Bar Mitzvah, getting married, graduating, or celebrating some similar milestone that warrants a present. We think carefully about what we’d like to give him and spend time shopping for the perfect present. At last we find it, write a loving note to enclose with it, and wrap it as prettily as possible. The gift is delivered. We wait a week, two weeks, three and there’s no acknowledgement. Finally a month or so later his mother tells us how much her son likes the present and thanks us for him. It doesn’t quite cut it. In Judaism we learn that thanking cannot be done by an intermediary. When we recite the Amidah, the central prayer of praise and blessing for HaShem, we include a prayer of thanks. Then the cantor repeats the Amidah out loud, the congregation listens, and responds Amen to each of the blessings, until they arrive at the thank you. At that point the cantor recites his thanks and the congregation members each recite their own thanks, reinforcing how important it is to personally express our own appreciation. In last week’s Torah portion, Vayetze, we read how our forefather, Yaacov, married and had eleven of his twelve sons from four different mothers. His wives knew that they were building the twelve tribes of Israel. When Leah’s fourth son was born, she realized she had received a fuller portion than the others. Therefore she named this son Yehudah, from the Hebrew word, l’hodot to thank. As Jews, we are called Yehudim after Yehudah, and not any of Yaacov’s other sons, because Jews are supposed to constantly thank HaShem. When I lived in America I loved Thanksgiving. There were those who turned up their noses at the holiday stating that every day we should give thanks, not just once a year. That’s indeed true, but I see nothing wrong with having a special day to focus on our gratitude. Now that I live in Israel there are those who ridicule me for celebrating an American holiday. Again, I see nothing wrong with it. In fact, the root of the aforementioned Hebrew word l’hodot is hodu. Hodu is also the Hebrew word for turkey. Nothing in life is a coincidence. It seems to me that HaShem is telling us to celebrate Hodu Day, with hodu. Of course, Thanksgiving Day is Israel is a normal workday but the following day is erev Shabbat. Through the years we’ve compromised our Thanksgiving celebration and now have our turkey, stuffing, and cranberry sauce at our Friday night Shabbat meal. Some years we have it a week or two before Thanksgiving and sometimes a week or two after. Thankfully we live in Israel and can be flexible. Our Thanksgiving is when it’s the best time for us. Whenever we do sit down to eat it, though, we are mindful of all the blessings HaShem has given us. And we thank Him, wholeheartedly. No one else can do it for us. A Happy Thanksgiving to all.

My novel, Growing With My Cousin, a good winter read, is available at Jewish bookstores and on line at https://mosaicapress.com/product/growing-with-my-cousin-a-tale-of-love-life-and-land/ or http://www.feldheim.com/growing-with-my-cousin.html or https://www.amazon.com/Growing-Cousin-Ester-Katz-Silvers/dp/194635113X/ or from my home.

Anti-Semitism: In light of the growing anti-Semitism I'm reposting what I wrote last year

Instead of wasting time and energy on symposiums trying to understand why there’s such a rise in anti-Semitism we should try looking at this week’s Torah portion. There it plainly states that Esav hates Yaakov because of the blessing Yaacov received from Yitzhak, their father (chapter 27, verse 41). In the previous verse Yitzhak tells Esav that Yaacov’s descendants will be subservient to Esav’s offspring whenever Yaacov’s don’t act properly. And how are we supposed to act properly? The Torah, the divine rule book, is full of guidelines for life but the directions don’t end with the five books of Moses. There are more suggestions from the Prophets. Micah (chapter 6, verse 8) tells us that G-d requires us to do justice, love kindness, and to walk humbly with G-d. In the Saying of Our Fathers (chapter 1, verse 2) we’re taught that the world rests on three principles: Torah study, service to G-d, and kind deeds. Verse 18 paraphrases these three as justice, truth, and peace. These are just a tiny taste of the abundant wisdom offered to us from our learned rabbis. Although it sounds simplistic I believe, with all my heart, that the way to beat the hatred to our race is to be better Jews. To be as careful about the laws between G-d and man as we are about the laws between us and G-d. If we can begin to do this we won’t need any more conferences about anti-Semitism. We’ll be able to overcome the hate.

Not a Coincidence

 

This week holds three special dates, the secular anniversary of the Kristallnacht, American Veterans Day, and, on a personal note, my father’s 13^th yahrzeit*.

From Kansas to the Kotel

 

At the Kotel 

Recently, as I sat at the Kotel plaza, I marveled for the umpteenth time how I made it all the way from Wichita, Kansas, the heart of the Bible Belt, to live in Shilo, Israel, the heart of the Biblical nation. Many factors contributed to my transition and one of them was Temple Emanu-el, the Reform temple that I grew up in.

Rochel's Tears: Written in 1997 and reprinted in honor of Mama Rochel's Yahrzeit*

As an 18-year-old college student, I had only begun to wade in the waters of Jewish observance, when I made my first visit to Israel in 1972. Coming with my B’nai B’rith Youth background, I was ready to see a living Israel and gave little thought to the Torah side of the country. Still, once I had visited the Western Wall and did all the hikes and museums that were part of my summer tour, I felt drawn to Rachel's Tomb.

Loving Our Neighbor

 

“Do you want to hear an inspiring story?” my friend asked and after hearing my affirmative reply she began her tale.

As you know, my mother survived the Holocaust and made her way to America. She married and had three children. I was the oldest and when I was just five-years-old she came down with TB. For six months she was confined in a sanatorium and we weren’t allowed to visit her. Six months she didn’t see her children. Her children! And there were no Zoom or Skype or WhatsApp. Can you imagine how she felt? When she came home my youngest brother wouldn’t go to her. But she followed the regulations because she knew if she didn’t she was endangering her children.