Reflections...

Yachad, yachad...yachad, yachad...kulam kedusha l'cha y'shaleshu.

These words, and their accompanying melody, have been running through my head over and over since last Shabbat. As the week of classes (and the summer session) came to a close yesterday, I found myself reflecting on how much I've learned, how much I've grown, and the holiness that seems to abound here in Yerushalayim, Ir HaKodesh (Jerusalem, the Holy City). Studying at the Conservative Yeshiva has been a life-changing experience. This is not hyperbole. I truly feel that I have gained so much from my study of Talmud--just one chapter of mishnah! just one page of gemara!--as well as from my in-depth study of tefillah and the many other classes and seminars I attended.

Before my first time in Israel in 1995, many people asked me why I was going. I answered that there was a part of me that I didn't even know about, a part that would not be opened up until I was in Israel. I was right--I learned so much that summer about myself, Judaism, Jewish history, Zionism, liturgy, and the magnificence of the land, the ubiquitous Jerusalem stone, and the very air that is breathed here. Since that summer, I have been in Israel in 2001, 2003, 2004, 2004 (not a typo), and 2005 for various programs, but not until these last three weeks have I had such an eye-opening, re-centering, tremendous experience. Why? With an undergraduate degree in English, I am quite familiar with picking apart essays, poems, novels, and other forms of the written word. However, I have always had trepidation and difficulty when approaching our sacred texts.

My Talmud class--beyond the content, and there was an enormous amount of amazing content (I have more than 40 handwritten pages of notes)--this class, and our extraordinary instructor, provided access to Jewish texts in a way that was both meaningful and beautiful. At our Talmud siyum (closing ceremony) yesterday--more about the siyum later--our instructor said, "The fact that one is a beginner at [studying Talmud, or any other sacred text] doesn't mean that you have to have a simplistic conversation." So true.

When I started this Talmud class, my motivation was twofold: to learn more about this text to which I had not previously had access, and to be able to open a new level of conversation with my students. I had no idea that over the course of three weeks--and indeed, in much less time!--my life would be changed. Here's a look into the very first day of class...

We began our study with the sixth chapter of Masechet Brachot (mishnah only at this point), which focuses on brachot hanehenin, blessings on things that give you enjoyment--generally food. A classmate turned to me and said, "Do you want to work in chevruta together?" From this, a partnership was born between Sy and me. We poked through the text, facing frustrations and revelations along the way. We started with questions about word choices and rabbinic personalities, and we moved toward recognizing distinctions in the origins of food and appreciating the diverse ways through which our food comes to us--sometimes, quite naturally (like a pear or carrot) and sometimes through a partnership between God and man (like bread, for example). We questioned this Rabbi Yehuda fellow, who seemed to have the last word in this mishnah (verse), even though our current understanding of halacha dismisses his opinion. Who was Rabbi Yehuda, this purist who seemed to emphasize eating the most natural foods available--perhaps a vegan before his time--and who endorsed a bracha that was unfamiliar to us (borei minei d'sha'im)?

As we moved from chevruta to shiur (class) on this first (!) day of class, we began to discuss the Biblical terminology in brachot and the idea that God gave pri ha'etz (fruit of the tree) to Adam and Eve. Why fruit first? It's easily accessible! God gave us fruit, so eating fruit is like eating out of God's hand. It's quite a visceral, spiritual, Edenic experience to eat what God has given you. If you don't believe me, take a moment to contemplate this, closing your eyes the next time you bite into a strawberry, nectarine, blueberry, papaya, date, etc.

This was only part of my learning experience on the first day of Talmud. As we continued to plow through the chapter of mishnah, my appreciation for the concepts of bracha and the Mishnaic tradition intensified. At the core of our discussions was the question--what does it mean to make a bracha (blessing)?

I could go on and on--and in upcoming posts, I will describe the siyum in more detail, including the presentation Robin and I made to our class, and perhaps share some of the writing I did in my Heschel class. For the present, I'd like to conclude this section by remarking that although in many courses, chevrutas changed every day, my Talmud chevruta and I stuck together for the entire three weeks. Sy lives in Gary, and he and his wife have an apartment in Chicago, not far from mine, so we hope to continue studying together.

It's been a great week for seeing friends and family. I had dinner on Sunday with Leslie, my former roommate in Boston. It was great to catch up with her--and bump into Daniel, a former USYer/student at the same time! Leslie is studying in Har Nof for the summer.

On Tuesday night, my roommates and I had an intense evening of nikayon, apartment cleaning! We scrubbed, swept, mopped, and dusted our apartment into a state of significant beauty as we prepared for a changing of the roommate guard. (The next day, Lisa departed, and last night, Gwen's husband arrived.) Following the Great Apartment Cleanup, Eric came over and shared the news that he placed into Daled--the highest level--at his ulpan (intense Hebrew-learning program). He is ecstatic to finally be living in Israel!

On Wednesday night, my roommates and I stopped at a hotel for a pit stop on the way home. Who did I bump into there, but Marcel, Dina's father-in-law! I thanked him once again for his family's hospitality this past Shabbat, and wished him well. Apparently, I seem to have friends all around Jerusalem! This was made even more clear yesterday morning, when my bothersome ankle pushed me to take a cab to school. I gave the destination address to the driver, and he turned and said, "I have driven you before." It was Itzik, who last week enchanted me with his story of being born in Jerusalem and encouraged me to continue speaking Hebrew, as that's the only way to improve. He and I had an incredible conversation once again as he drove toward the CY.

This is my final Shabbat in Jerusalem...Gwen and her husband, Jef, are heading to Herzliya for the weekend, and Robin and I are looking forward to a quiet Shabbat here. We're going to someone's home for dinner tonight, and we're having a couple--really, only a couple!--friends for lunch tomorrow. Tomorrow night, I'll see Dina again. We both really treasure the opportunity to spend quality time together here. It has been a pleasure to play with and bestow hugs and kisses upon her two boys, Aharon and Binyamin. Meeting seven-month-old Binyamin, who bears the name of our beloved Papa, z"l, has been one of the greatest highlights of being in Israel.

I would be cold and heartless if I did not mention the heavy feeling upon the nation right now. The bodies of Ehud Goldwasser and Eldad Regev were returned on Wednesday and buried yesterday, and their families are now sitting shiva after a long two years of waiting and hoping for something much better. May God comfort the Goldwasser and Regev families among the mourners of Zion and Jerusalem.

May Gilad Shalit return home quickly and safely, and may the world soon realize and recognize that we are a tiny people who are living in only a tiny piece of land, and that to expect secure borders, safe walkways and a future of promise for children, and not to be threatened for having the audacity to exist…well, that should not be so much to ask.

Shabbat shalom.

We’ll talk soon…
Caroline