Friday and Saturday

[cellio]

Friday morning we went to Yad Vashem, the Holocaust museum. We were given a time limit and didn't have to stay in a group; the place is much bigger than it looks, so I had to rush through parts of it at the end. The place was also very crowded, so there were some exhibits I couldn't get close to. I guess if that had to happen to me somewhere in this trip, better that it happened at a place that wasn't at the top of my personal must-see list.

Yad Vashem was revamped recently (I'm thinking last year, but I might be wrong on that). The old museum allowed you to be passive; the new one is more engaging. This is good. Many of the exhibit rooms had videos running on continuous loop with survivors telling parts of their stories. These were interesting, but they were of course in Hebrew with English subtitles and with the crowds I had trouble getting close enough to read. I'll come back when I'm fluent, maybe.

The architecture of the museum is interesting in one way: when you come out at the end, you walk onto a balcony overseeing both older and newer parts of Jerusalem. After learning about an attempt to wipe out the Jewish people, you come out and see a growing Jewish city right there.

This message was reinforced for for me when, later in the day, some of us went into the shuk in the old city. Friday noon in the marketplace as people are rushing to get last-minute supplies for Shabbat dinner is something. After Yad Vashem that drove home the message that not only did the Shoah fail to wipe out Jews (the people), but it also failed to wipe out Judaism. People are people, but a religion and a culture are bigger than any individual.

Aside: I've been wondering about the word "yad" in "Yad Vashem" and "Yad l'Kashish" earlier in the trip. "Yad" means "hand", and a literal translation of "Yad Vashem" would seem to be "hand and name", which doesn't make a lot of sense. (Or I suppose "hand in name" if it's a veit rather than a vav. I didn't notice.) Someone (I forget now if it was my rabbi or our guide) said that it's used more generally as "strength (of)", which makes sense on its own but then raises the question of when to choose "yad" versus "gibur". I'm also assuming, though I haven't asked, that this usage of "yad" is specific to modern Hebrew, and maybe that's my answer about "gibur".

Friday night we went to services at Har El, less than a mile from our hotel. This is the oldest Reform congregation in Israel, if I recall correctly. I guess they get a lot of English-speaking visitors; we were asked to come half an hour before services, and they gave an overview of their congregation and talked to us a little about the service we were about to experience. They also handed out an English summary of the d'var torah that would be given, which was helpful.

They had siddurim with English translations for visitors, but the service was entirely in Hebrew -- which, of course, is the vernacular here. I could follow just fine and I helped guide people sitting near me sometimes. The person sitting next to me later commended me on my skill and seemed surprised that I didn't grow up in an Orthodox congregation. I assured him that adults can learn liturgy from the outside in not too many years; you just have to be willing to.

There is a prayer in the evening service (Hashkiveinu) that ends "praised...who spreads a sukkah of peace over us, over all Israel, and over Yerushalayim'. There was something particularly resonant about saying the final words while in Yerushalayim. I didn't notice that effect last week at the wall. Maybe I had to have been in the city for more than two hours for it to sink in.

There was a lot of singing (most participatory), with some melodies I knew and some I could figure out easily. I'm really glad for the knack for music that I seem to have; I can often be singing an unfamiliar melody after hearing just a line or two.

I found it interesting that the Shabbat candles were already lit when the service started (which was after sunset), but they turned on electric lights while we were there. That makes sense if you draw a distinction between actual flame and electricity; I wonder if that's their reasoning. (I know that some Conservative rabbis rule that electricity is fine on Shabbat, so this would not be a Reform-specific idea.)

We had Shabbat dinner at the hotel. Last week we had our own room; this week we had three tables in the main dining hall (round, so we couldn't really pull them together). I enjoyed talking with the people at my table, but I missed the "whole-group conversation" we had last week. (And singing with the whole group would have been nice.) Oh well; hotel resources are limited.

Saturday morning my rabbi and I went to Shira Chadisha. (I'm not sure anyone else in our group went to services anywhere, which is disappointing.) Wow, what a great service! It's hard to judge a congregation from one data point, but if I lived in Jerusalem I would definitely go back there a few more times to see if it's consistent. My rabbi has been there before and he said this matched his past experiences, so that's a good sign.

There was a lot of singing (often to Carlebach melodies) and a lot of joy in the room. These seemed to be people for whom Shabbat really is the culmination of the week -- not that thing you do on some Saturday mornings if the kids don't have soccer practice, as seems to be the case sometimes among people I know, or that thing you don't do because Shabbat is full of "you can't do"s. These people take it seriously as a celebration. I'd like to daven with them again.

Here's what I noted for the mechanics of this egalitarian Orthodox service. There were equal-sized men's and women's sections, and both were full. (My rabbi later told me that at some times of the year you can't get in at all if you show up late.) The mechitzah was a sheer curtain -- thin enough to see through but not enough to see faces through. It was suspended on a line and at all times when it wasn't required (during the d'var torah and later during the announcements), it was whisked away in seconds and then returned in seconds when needed. The reading desk for the sefer torah is in the center (which is traditional but not as common in the US), with the curtains running right down the center. For the torah reading, they pulled the curtain back on each side, creating a "window" and an unimpeded reading desk. (Men who are particularly afraid of seeing into the women's section can, I assume, sit in the 90% of the men's section where that wouldn't be a problem during the torah service.)

The torah service was interesting. A woman led the prayers for taking the torah out of the ark (and later for returning it). She carried the sefer torah down through the women's section and then handed it to soemone on the other side, who I assume carried it through the men's section before delivering it to the reading desk. There were several torah readers, and all but one were women. All chanted (no one just read); one man used a different trope system (which I didn't recognize) than the others, who all did approximately what I'm used to. The aliyot were about evenly split (I didn't count) between men and women; a woman had maftir and thus the haftarah (blessings and chanting the portion). The torah chanting was brisker than I'm used to; I could mostly follow fine, but two or three years ago I might not have.

There was a bat mitzvah, which I found exciting. The girl said the blessings and chanted the portion for her aliya, and then there was lots of singing and a little dancing on both sides of the curtain (as well as the obligatory airborne candy). The community was quite obviously celebrating the achievement of one of its own -- very different from families that have what amount to private bar-mitzvah services. Those are about "me"; this was about "us". Very different feeling! (I didn't ask, but I assume a bar mitzvah is handled the same way.) And hey -- an Orthodox bat mitzvah involving participation in the torah service -- how unusual is that? Their web site has a link to an article discussing the halachot they're employing; I'll follow it when I get home.

I saw talitot on a minority of the women, by the way, including the onee who led the torah service and all the ones who chanted torah.

Shabbat afternoon my rabbi and I took a walk and he showed me some key landmarks, both national (the prime minister's residence, the knesset, the former Moment Cafe) and personal (the apartment he lived in during rabbinic school, his favorite flower shop, others). He also pointed out what he says is an excellent bookstore (Pomerantz, on Hillel near Beit Shmuel) which, alas, is not open tonight. (We're leaving Jerusalem in the morning.) The walk seemed to bring back pleasant memories for him, and I'm glad I got to hear some of his stories. I'm also flattered that on a trip where he's getting very little alone time, he invited me to take a walk with him.

After a group havdalah people scattered to go out for dinner and a night on the town. I had gotten a message from Naomi (LJ name to be filled in later) an hour or so before Shabbat asking if I was free tonight; in the intervening day her son got sick so she and Alter couldn't go out after all, but I succeeded in hooking up with zachkessin, kmelion, and joshbrown for a nice dinner at a grilled-meat place. I had goose, which I don't think I've ever eaten and am unlikely to get the opportunity to unless I cook it myself. It was tasty; I'm glad I tried it.

Tomorrow we leave bright and early for the Ein Gedi nature reserve, Masada, the Dead Sea, and then on to Eilat. I assume the internet situation in Eilat will be closer to Jerusalem's than to K'far Giladi's, but if not, you'll next hear from me when I get home.

Comments

[530nm330hz.livejournal.com]

I've been wondering about the word "yad" in "Yad Vashem" ... I'm also assuming, though I haven't asked, that this usage of "yad" is specific to modern Hebrew

If you go to minchah tomorrow, pay attention to the end of the Haftarah, which is where this comes from. Is. 56:5 says: וְנָתַתִּי לָהֶם בְּבֵיתִי וּבְחוֹמֹתַי, יָד וָשֵׁם "" The old JPS translation renders this as "Even unto them will I give in My house and within My walls a monument and a memorial."

[zevabe.livejournal.com]

I too was surprised to discover thatYad Vashem had little to do with a hand or a name. It is in fact, as 530nm330hz said, "a monument & a memorial", which G-d promises to, I believe, those who die al kiddush Hashem. Thus, not modern Hebrew, but instead very much Biblical.

[cellio]

Thanks!

Presumably Yad l'Kashish means it more in the sense of "monument", not "memorial". :-)