During this time of year, we experience two interrelating periods each linking two festivals – the period between Pesach and Shavuot, and the period between Yom Ha-Atzma’ut and Yom Yerushalayim (the day commemorating the liberation of Jerusalem during the Six-Day War). The fact that the biblical pair (Pesach-Shavuot) and the modern pair (Yom ha-Atzma’ut and Yom Yerushalayim; both related to modern day Israel) occur during the same time span is no coincidence. These two intermediary periods in fact share a profound connection.

Pesach commemorates the Exodus from Egypt, then on Shavuot – fifty days later – we received the Torah. The transition during the intermediate days is one of ascent beginning with a physical liberation, from slavery, (Pesach) “upwards”, as it were, towards spiritual liberation (Shavuot – the receiving of the Torah).

The period between Yom ha-Atzma’ut and Yom Yerushalayim can be characterized in a similar way. On Yom ha-Atzma’ut we celebrate something akin with Pesach. This day commemorates, principally, the attainment of our physical and political independence, our exodus from subjugation to foreign nations.

Yom Yerushalayim is more akin to Shavuot. During the Six-Day War, Israel regained many places whose strategic importance for its survival and security needs are immeasurably greater than that of Jerusalem. The I.D.F. expanded the country’s narrow waistline in Judea and Samaria, defended the Galilee “finger” (panhandle), and even took over the Hermon, the “eyes of the country”. All of these are important achievements, and without them Israel’s security situation would be all but impossible. Nonetheless, Jerusalem is in a different category: it is neither the waistline, the “finger”, nor even the “eyes” of the country. Jerusalem is its heart.

There are no stories of Golani soldiers shedding tears upon reaching the Hermon; no emotional scenes recorded among the tank companies following the liberation of the Sinai. However, the paratroopers weeping at the Western Wall have become a symbol. These soldiers – like the nation as a whole – understood that the liberation of Jerusalem had significance far beyond the relief that it brought to the city’s inhabitants, living in fear of sniper fire. It was a spiritual, historical moment, the sort that happens once in thousands of years.

We recite the phrase, “Next year in Jerusalem” a few times each year. Many believe that this motto is relevant for those who live outside of Israel; for those who were born in Israel or immigrated there, they believe, it has no real meaning. However, not everyone feels this way, and it is interesting to read what two great people who share a common background have to say in this regard.

Natan Sharansky, a “prisoner of Zion” for many years, and later a minister in the Israeli government, after finally arriving in Israel, said: “Now the next time I say, “Next year in Jerusalem”, these words will finally have only symbolic meaning, for I – body and soul – now dwell in the capital of Israel.” These heartfelt words came from someone who suffered and waited for many years in order to reach that moment.

However, another former “prisoner of Zion” presented a completely different view. Yosef Begun, also a “refusenik” for many years, said the following, when he was already living in Israel:
“Some people say that there’s more depth when you’re in the Diaspora. I, too – during the long nights in prison, on the Pesach nights, used to ask myself, 'Nu, so when I get to Jerusalem – what then? What significance will there be to the words of the Haggadah there, in Eretz Yisrael?' And here I am now, in Jerusalem, and I still utter with the same intention in my heart, with the same passionate hope and prayer: 'Next year in the rebuilt Jerusalem.' Because a 'rebuilt Jerusalem' means the Temple, it means the Sanhedrin; it means a fully Jewish life. And it is specifically here, since I made aliya, that I see and am more conscious of the deficiencies and delays in our lives. It is specifically here that I understand better the spiritual content, not the physical, geographical aspiration towards the rebuilt Jerusalem. And on the Seder night I am able to utter these words with the heartfelt prayer that I, too, shall be able to make my contribution towards the rebuilding of this Jerusalem – may it be rebuilt soon.”

Aliya is not the end of Zionist fulfillment. After this great step comes the readiness to improve the situation in Israel – in all aspects; to work towards the goal of us all being together next year in a Jerusalem that is rebuilt in all sense of the word.

Rabbi Yaakov Meir is former Rosh Kollel in Montevideo (1999-2001), currently Rabbi of the Lechu Ne'ranena cummunity in Ra'anana and a teacher For comments: yukimeir@gmail.com

Dvar Torah - Parashat Bamidbar

Cultivating Cultural Empathy: Insights from the Nacirema Tribe and the Book of Bamidbar

Not long ago I heard that a special new tribe called "Nacirema" was discovered. Their fundamental belief underlying the whole system appears to be that the human body is ugly and that its natural tendency is to disabilities and disease. Incarcerated in such a body, man’s only hope is to avert these characteristics through the use of rituals and ceremony. Every household has one or more shrines devoted to this purpose.

The daily body ritual performed by everyone includes a mouth-rite. Despite the fact that these people are so careful about care of the mouth, this rite involves a practice which strikes the stranger as revolting. It was reported, that the ritual consists of inserting a small bundle of hairs into the mouth, along with certain magical powders, and then moving the bundle in a highly formalized series of gestures.
Before I explain why I brought the story of this tribe, I will bring a part of the mishna in Avot (chapter 2, mishna 4):

"Hillel says: … do not judge your fellow until you have put yourself in his place."
The Rishonim explain the highlighted sentence in this mishna literally. It is not for a person to judge his friend according to what he sees and say: If I were in his place, I would surely behave differently from him, in a better way.

First, it is known that experience is the best teacher. And it's possible that if you were in his place, in the same exact situation, you wouldn't have behaved differently. But even if you had behaved differently there is still no place to judge your friend.

Another interpretation of this mishna is given by Ba'al HaTanya - Do not judge a person until you are in his place, because his place is the cause of his sins. A person's whose livelihood is in the market, where all his cravings are available, the chances of sin are much higher. As the physical location in which the person is affects him, therefore do not judge him until you are in the same place where he is.
So what is the connection to the " Nacirema" tribe and to our Parasha ?

I assume that when you read about "Nacirema" you were sure that this is a strange tribe, and you were critical towards it. However, the story of this tribe was written in order to teach us to look at the different cultures with a less hierarchical and less judgmental view. To show us the closeness, more than we think, that exists between our society and "exotic" and "distant" societies. The great speed with which we label the other, and the problematic nature of this labeling.

This tribe is not an external and foreign tribe to us, but it is us. The word " Nacirema" is actually the inversion of "American" and the mouth-rite is brushing teeth... We all perform the actions mentioned in the passage, only that when they are described in a different and slightly distant way, suddenly it is easy for us to judge and criticize it.

This week we begin the Book of Bamidbar. Leafing through the chumash you can see that it is full of judgment. Starting with Am Israel's complaints about G-d, about Moses and Aaron, the sin of Korach judging Moses and Aaron etc. When we read the passages, we might read them in a judgmental way and think that we are better than our forefathers. That is why the mishna in Avot teaches us not to judge your fellow until you have put yourself in his place.

Writtten by Zohar Avramovitz, shaliach in Montreal. For comments:‬ zohrtal@gmail.com