Prague

Almost 25 years ago, I whisked my young bride away to Prague for the beginning of our honeymoon.

Ever since, finding myself here prompts a sense of history in two planes at once; recent and ancient.

These graves run deep. The old Jewish cemetery saw the deceased buried in 10-12 "floors" in places.

If you are visiting in the middle of the day, your progress down the path will be frequently halted by Israelis insistent upon sticking a note in the tomb of Maharal, the legendary creator of the golem.

Frank Gehry is:

(a) Jewish (his mom was from Łódź btw)

(b) From Toronto

(c) The creator of The Dancing House of Prague

✓(d) All of the above

Since the 16th c, the Jews of Prague have had their own town hall.

This clock, constructed in 1764 by Sebastien Landersberger, uses Hebrew letters and runs - you guessed it - counter-clockwise.

Looking forward to seeing you next Shabbat (Aug 12), celebrating with my partner-in-crime Cantor David the birth of his brand new grandson.

Shabbat Shalom,

RE

Rabbi Eli and Cantor David are entertaining fellow Lodzer travellers in the old castle town of Trakai, introducing them to the local Karaite community (and their cuisine).

Where in the World is Rabbi Eli, Cantor David, Gabbai Rafi, and many others?

A PICTURE FROM MOROCCO IS WORTH A THOUSAND WORDS FROM MOROCCO

Where in the World is Rabbi Eli, Cantor David, Gabbai Rafi, and many others?

Walking around the streets of Moroccan cities wearing a yarmulke is a serious hazard. Every other person you pass will want to stop and exclaim "Shalom!" at you. And shake your hand. And have a chat with you.
And - sometimes - also thank you for coming back with the brachah that went away with the Jews during their mass exodus more than half a century ago.
But if you are not afraid of being greeted and thanked excessively, and spending a few extra hours talking to the newly found friends and getting invitations for dinner from strangers, do wear that kippah or a golden Chai proudly out there for all to admire.

The country that features the only active Jewish museum in the Arab world; the country where the Jews are a minority of less than one percent of one percent - yet all major newspapers exhibit on the first page the Jewish date along with the Gregorian and Muslim ones; the country whose king is a vocal enemy of terrorism against Irsrael (which makes him very unpopular with many members of the Arab League - yet which is entirely in line with the history of his grandfather, who not only saved the Moroccan Jews from the Vichy government but also invited the Jewish leaders to sit next to the important Vichy Nazis at his next function at the palace) - it is a country where you will feel surrounded by friends quicker than you can get off the plane.

Showing 18 (chai again) members of our Lodzer family around the great imperial cities of the old and the vast, silent dunes of the great Sahara desert is so much fun for the Cantor and I. Wish you were here!

More reports to follow.
Hugs all from the Maghreb,
Shabbat Shalom
Rabbi Eli et Al

The Knesset From Behind

We are not really used to looking at the Israeli parliament from this angle (if at all). Indeed, it looks much prettier from the front, especially slightly from above, especially drowning in soft colourful lights at night.

Yet ever since I try to offer you a different angle on things, my main goal is not to make things prettier, it is to make things clearer (or, sometimes, more confusing, in the truly Jewish spirit). On that premise, here's your look at the Knesset from behind.

For a month now, Binyamin (Bibi) Netanyahu has been triumphant about his "decisive victory". So, why is there still no government? Not that I'm complaining, don't get me wrong; our people seem to be doing just as well without a government as we do with one, or two, or a whole bunch thereof. But – there is a majority in the right block, once you include such seriously right factors as Bezalel Smotrich (the Religious Zionist Party) and ultra-right factors like Itamar Ben-Gvir (Otzmah Yehudit, i.e. Jewish Power). Throw in the Orthodox parties who are Netanyahu’s natural allies, and you can have a party all night long. What’s keeping them from, to put it in Nike’s words, just doing it?

If you ask most anyone (and their brother), the culprit is the so-called French Law. Bibi’s party, Likud, is pushing forward a law copying the French rule of immunity for the active president from criminal investigation (let alone prosecution) – except, of course, they’d like to see it implemented in Israel for the PM, not (or not just) the President.

So, why wouldn’t the new coalition members go along with this plan? Isn’t Bibi willing to give them most everything they asked for? Didn’t he promise Smotrich either finance or defence ministry? Isn’t he willing to give Ben-Gvir his coveted portfolio of the interior security (i.e. police)? Hasn’t he agreed to waive the demand from the Orthodox sector to teach kids math and grammar in the cheders as a precondition for public financing?

We can of course imagine they are all being merely idealistic, and show good citizenship in spite of self-interest, not wanting to allow Bibi avoiding payment for his wrongs. But let us adopt for the moment a measure of healthy cynicism and look for a realpolitik answer.

The truth is, both Smotrich and Ben-Gvir suspect, with a very good reason to, that the moment they push the French Law through, Netanyahu will discard them with not so much as a thank-you. Why would he do it, you ask? The answer is as obvious to many Israelis as it may be surprising to many foreigners. Bibi really, really hates being the leftmost party leader in his coalition. He spared no effort before to not let it happen, to make sure there was someone further left of him, someone on whom he could blame the decisions unpopular with his electorate. But this time, there is only the “official left” to Bibi’s left. And a “National Unity Government” together with the official left, while entirely possible, leaves very few chances for the French Law to be passed through.

In Israel, Bibi is known to the public (by the grace of mass-media) as Ha-Kosem, The Magician. Over and over his tricks make David Copperfields around the globe green with envy. Has the magic hat run out of rabbits?

Time will tell, and I gather rather sooner than later.

Judaean Desert, Mt Montar (Azazel)

Shalom Lodzer,

Last week, I showed you the Dead Sea from its eastern, Jordanian side.

Allow me to present it now in a matching fashion from the west.

This point here is Mt Montar, the highest peak in the Judaean desert.

Though merely 25km apart as the crow flies, the two places are very different (aside from the fact one is in Jordan and the other in the Promised Land) in spirit, presentation, history, and their Biblical context. While the former is just sad, the latter is outright grim.

By as much of a consensus as Israeli researchers can ever agree on anything, Montar is believed to be Mt Azazel, the site of the Temple days' macabre Yom Kippur practice of throwing the scapegoat off a steep cliff.

2 male goats were set aside in advance; lots drawn by the High Priest would decide which will become a sacrificial offering, and which is to be the scapegoat, the se’ir laAzazel, led out into the wilderness "by the hand of a slow person".

While many sages at all times interpreted the goat as a medium that carries with it everything negative to be cast away, Maimonides, for one, mercifully sees it as a mere symbol, a prop that helps us to shake off the bad from within our selves.

That does not make life necessarily better or easier for that particular goat but it gives us the hope of reaching the point at which we do not need such a morbid rite. According to the legend, the moment the puck came crashing down the cliff, the parts of a red ribbon tied to its horns and to the rock would become pure white, symbolizing the cleansing of the people from the burden of their sins and iniquities.

In English (and most other modern languages today) a scapegoat is someone who carries the blame for the wrongdoing of others. That plays out quite differently in the Torah though. We should know better than to blame our troubles on a goat. We should know better than to blame the goat for anything. It is merely a vessel to help me get rid of the negativity that torments me, of the demons that haunt me. Because we all have those, and we know they are not going anywhere on their own. Bottle up whatever harrows you, and you’ll carry it around forever. No amount of pretending to be comfortable will help. You need to feel it, name it, and release it. And let the goats roam free.

The Dead Sea looks gorgeous from here, especially at the sunrise. Sorry for the inadequacies of my phone' camera.

Shabbat Shalom from the Holy Land,

RE

Mount Nebo – Dead Sea, Jordan

Those of us who’ve ever seen a picture from Jordan have grown to normally expect something of this kind:

Yet here is a spot, while less visually spectacular, with a history twice as ancient as the old Nabatean capital of Petra.

You probably do not recognize it because it’s not the angle at which you are used to looking at the Dead Sea. In fact, it is diametrically opposite, as we look from the east. On a clear day one can see Jerusalem from here (sorry; it was not a particularly clear day).

What would you say was the saddest place mentioned in the Torah? Sodom and Gomorra? Mount Moriah when Isaac is about to be sacrificed? Egypt in the days of slavery? Personally, I strongly feel it is Mt Nebo, where Moses goes to get a preview of a land he will not merit to enter.

We are in the final stretch of the Torah, those last few portions in Deuteronomy where Moses wraps up the narrative with yet another batch of commandments here, another last few words of wisdom there, all that to set the Children of Israel on the right path.

Those portions are very sad. Or, very positive and uplifting; that’s up to you really, depending on the perspective you adopt. Just imagine you whip out your old trusted cellphone, that veteran who’s been with you through thick and thin. You then open google search… and start looking for a new smartphone model! What a heartless wretch one has to be to do that, right? No mensch at all. Sounds like a cry-worthy tale from an old soap opera, really.

Except, that’s what the Almighty has been doing to Moses throughout Deuteronomy. ‘Come, Moses, have a good look, you poor fellow, at this good mountain and Lebanon, at all the beautiful and goodly stuff you are never going to see up close, because you are going to die here, my friend, without entering the Promised Land, haha’… Moses, of course, gives as good as he gets, to continue that emotional rollercoaster ride of back-and-forth into the eternity.

Mt Nebo packs three thousand years of history. Ancient cities, Byzantine monasteries, battlegrounds panoramas and years of pilgrimage came and went, while it is still there to bear witness to the flow of a charged relationship between a People and our God.

If ever, while on a visit from Israel, you have a chance for a day trip to Jordan, and if you are not entering through the south, from Eilat via Aqaba crossing, but get in through one of the northern points, you can stop here on your way south to the common tourist attractions. Stand on the mountain top, listen to the wind, see the Dead Sea, the city of Jericho, Judean desert, Jerusalem from afar. See the good mountain, marvel at the quiet and ponder the days that were before moving on to the beaten path.

Westman Islands, off the southern shore of Iceland

As you may have heard, the world is enjoying yet another new eruption in this corner of the planet.

Which is as mesmerizing sight as always - but will remain another story for another day.

Today, I will tell you how remote islands in Iceland make me think of Israel, and what it is they make me think.

Vestmannaeyjar islanders go back well over 1,000 years when their ancestors first settled here. Yet they are less populous today than mere 50 years ago. Why so, you ask? The reason is not a spurt of urbanization, nor lack of jobs (the government will actually pay very attractive salaries and offer other incentives to those who make the islands their home). The fault lies with a notoriously mercurial and dangerous neighbour.

Meet Eldfell, a newly formed volcano that had already succeeded in decimating the town.

Looks lovely when presented this way, innit? Well, as the joke goes, don't you confuse travel and immigration. When it wook up and roared in January 1973, it wasn't so lovely. All of the locals had to escape to the mainland, and for the next 6 months it kept methodically spewing brimstone, fire and molten lava over the abandoned dwellings. The eruption came to an end only in July, just about 3 months before the Yom Kippur War started in Israel.

(Believe it or not, the previous major eruption here ended in June 1967, right with the Six Day War. The youngest and southernmost of the islands, Surtsey, also came into existence in the course of that eruption.)

Is it just that coincidence that made me think of the land of our ancestors and the magic of numbers? Hardly.

I've met islanders who were around during the 1973 disaster, and came back after the forced evacuation. Some of them took the doors off their homes as they fled, to bring them back later to their new homes. Some only took their keys. Some left with the shirts on their backs.

As they returned, the people made marks over the lava. There are signs and plans showing where individual homes, whole streets, churches, cafes, and a swimming pool once stood. The town was rebuilt from scratch a few kilometres down the slope. Those who came back are the ones who will never give up their land.

Of course, there are so many Icelanders who will not dare to settle in such a volatile place where the uncertainty of tomorrow is greater than anywhere else they choose to call home. And of course, we understand them too.

But - don't we really feel what's in the heart of the former ones? The ones who stick to the land of their origins through thick and thin, the ones who, even if forced to leave, will keep the key to their home next to their heart - sometimes, along with the door?

As a progeny of the same evictees and escapees from everywhere as each of you, I am feeling today as though there's a little of the Israeli spirit in the people of Vestmannaeyjar. The life here had been hard through most of its history; one of the most notable dark pages of that history goes back to 1627 when Turkish pirates captured and took into slavery majority of the islanders. Yet the place is beautiful, and unbelievably tranquil, and promising all sorts of gifts of nature to its dwellers. But - much more than that - for the people who come from here, it is, and always will be, home.

Dangerous neighbours and unpredictable circumstances aside, there is nowhere else to go for someone who has no other home.

Making everyone feel welcome at your home is the next art we'll be well advised to learn to its fullest. Which is, yet again, another story for another day.

Pray for the peace of Jerusalem.

With love,

Rabbi Eli