Sorry

Today the Prime Minister Kevin Rudd, on behalf of the Australian government and people, delivered an apology to the Indigenous people of Australia. Watching it online from my temporary home in Jerusalem, I could not help but have mixed feelings. Pride and shame.

In a government motion passed unanimously, Kevin Rudd said, "We apologise for the laws and policies of successive parliaments and governments that have inflicted profound grief, suffering and loss on these our fellow Australians. For the indignity and degradation thus inflicted on a proud people and a proud culture, we say sorry."

Hearing this, I felt proud. Acknowledging the cultural genocide that we now know as the Stolen Generations is an incredibly important symbol. In his Laws of Teshuva, Rambam states that the first step to complete reconciliation must be acknowledging that you have done something wrong. Aboriginal children were removed from their parents from 1869-1969. For finally taking this first step in admitting the consequences of this policy, I feel proud of the Australian government.
But I also feel shame. That Aboriginal life expectancy is 17 years shorter than that of the of the average Australian; that indigenous unemployment is three times the rate of the country as a whole; that crime and alcoholism are more prevalent in indigenous communities.

This leads me to reflect on the country where I am living now. What would reconciliation look like in Israel? To whom would the government apologize?
To the Yemenite children whose children were removed from their parents when they arrived in the 1950's? To the Palestinians who lost their homes and homeland in 1948 and 1967? To the many Israelis who have not yet known a year without violence? To the young IDF soldiers who spend the best years of their youth at isolated checkpoints? To the families of Gush Katif who lost their homes and livelihoods for no apparent gain? To the Bedouins whose villages are still not recognized? To the many Holocaust survivors who live below the poverty line? To the parents who lost their sons in the last Lebanon war? To the people of the southern Negev who have been living between their homes and bomb shelters for the past seven years? To the people of Gaza who are bearing the brunt of a cruel collective punishment? Or to today's Ethiopian immigrants who are suffering from same absorption mistakes of the past in terms of social discrimination and peripheralisation?
How would a reconciled Israel look? How would the process begin? The Australian opposition leader Brendon Nelson responded to today's motion with this,

But in saying we are sorry - and deeply so - we remind ourselves that each generation lives in ignorance of the long term consequences of its decisions and actions. Even when motivated by inherent humanity and decency to reach out to the dispossessed in extreme adversity, our actions can have unintended outcomes.

The very short but incredibly tumultuous history of the State of Israel is filled with so many decisions that were motivated by inherent humanity, but have ended in suffering. When I look at this country's history, I feel both pride and shame. Perhaps, on this historic day, the Jewish State can take a eucalyptus leaf out Australia's book and begin the process of reconciling its past because maybe that is the best thing she can do for her future. I can't think of a better gift that Israel could give herself on this, her 60th birthday year.

Mechanchim Bechirim Update

Shalom from Jerusalem,
The flags from Bush’s visit are back in storage, Annapolis is only a city in Maryland, the snow has passed, professors are no longer striking and Winograd is just the name of a retired judge again. Life in Israel has gone back to normal, i guess?

From a personal perspective I really enjoyed visiting Jordan with a few close friends and telling them “on a clear day, you can see Israel from here.” It’s important to visit the neighbors once in a while. From my impression, the folks in Jordan don’t need sugar or eggs, but would love some water and an end to siege on Gaza. They were quite unhappy about us not providing that last item. I guess that’s why we don’t visit each other so often.

In terms of my academic studies, I have been exploring Shwab's common places of curriculum construction, reflecting on Alick Issac's antidote to war called 'Weak Theology,' thinking about how to apply 'blue ocean strategy' to a new field called Educational Entrepreneurship and been challenged by Michael Rosenak's tensions between Authenticity and Relevance(more on Rosenak's theory in the next post).

With reagrd to the major project that I will be completing by May, in conjunction with my stutor Roni Magidov, I have decided to focus on the relationship between human stories and biblical stories, and how they can complement one another within the Jewish Studies classroom. The specifc text I will be focusing on for this task will be Chapters 14-16 of the Book of Samuel (see attachment for more detailed project outline). May the new school/academic semester that begins in Australia this week be filled with an education that not only teaches students how to make a living, but also how to live. (John Adams)

Keep smiling

:)

The real struggle is not between East and West, or capitalism and communism, but between education and propaganda. ~ Martin Buber

Surely God is in the place but I, I did not know it – Jacob the Dreamer 28:16

This blog is best read listening to this.


I went to the desert to learn about the desert people, the ancient Hebrews, who spoke to God from the empty space. It was 5am. I was in Mitzpe Ramon. There was no wind, no birds, no leaves rustling, no other people to be heard. Only silence. The instruction was to sit and think for an hour, and then when the sun rose, return to the bus. Fine.

For the first 10 minutes. Still Fine. But then I started getting bored. I stood up, looked around and sawmy friend Baruch praying on the next hilltop. He was wearing his tallit and tfillin. He was speaking to God, maybe God was listening? I have always found tfilla difficult. I go to shule and there is always something that bothers me. I don’t like the shule’s rabbi, its politics, the location of its mechitza, the length of the service, the tunes and so on. I have many excuses as to why I don’t pray at shule so much. That doesn’t mean I don’t go. I go every week, some would say religiously.

Yet I feel further away from God in Israel than I do in Australia. I thought, maybe in the holy city of Hevron, at Maarat HaMachpela where my heroes lie, there I will find my kavana. But Hebron, unfortunately, is one of the most unharmonious sites of the Israeli-Palestinian conflict where many people have their lives curtailed every day in the name the sanctity of this cave. Praying at the tombs of my ancestors from behind iron bars, due to the conflict over their bones, was not a place where I could find God.

But now I was in the desert. Here there is no conflict. No blood is spilt for this soil. Who wants to live in this place? This is neutral ground. And, what did God do for Hagar in the location where I was sitting?

“And she wandered about the wilderness of BeerSheva.. and she thought “let me not look on as the child (Ishmael) dies.” And sitting thus, she burst into tears.

God heard the cry of the boy and an angel of God called to Hagar from heaven and said to her, “what troubles you Hagar? Fear not, for God has heeded the cry of the boy where he is. Come, lift up the boy and hold him by the hand and I will make a great nation of him” Then God opened her eyes and she saw a well of water.” Gen 21:14-19

I had no excuses not to pray here. There was no politics to bother me in the desert. Davka the opposite. The desert is where my ancestors have prayed, Hagar, Eliyahu, Hannah, and God has listened.

So I tried to pray. I said the Shma, I tried Amida. But nothing. No voice from heaven spoke to me, there was no thunder and lighting, not even a still small voice. I heard only the deafening silence of the desert. I wanted to tell God “Hineni!” But instead I asked Him “Ayeca?”

A week later, I shared this story with my friend Sarah (not her real name) and asked if she has heard God before. She was sure she had. I was very excited. She told me that she once really wanted something in her life, so she went to a rabbi and was told that if she prayed shacharit for 40 days straight at the kotel, her desire would be granted by God. She prayed for 10, 20, 30, 40 days. Nothing happened. On then on the 42nd day, her desire was granted. She was convinced that it was a reward for her tfilla. I asked her, why didn't God grant her desire on day 1? She said, "because God wanted me to earn it, to show I had emunah". “Yafe” I said. "But what if God had not granted your desire? Would you have stopped believing?" Sarah replied “of course not.” I would have understood that I was asking the wrong desire from God. I said “that’s a nice logic there, God wins both ways.” My question was not answered.

So I went to Aviva Zornberg’s Parasha Shiur on Parshat Vyetze. After the class I chatted with a girl named Rina (not her real name) and asked what she did when she had trouble praying. She told that her Rabbi from Kehilat Hadar told her on Yom Kippur, whatever your thoughts about God are right now, tell him. Have a conversation. Whatever you feel, say it. I have tried this too. But how long can you say how you feel, when the audience is an ancient wall whose enormous stones bare only silence despite the overflowing paper requests within her? If the conversation is a monologue, then maybe “God is not in this place?”

But earlier on Aviva had drawn my attention to Yaakov. Yaakov, the ish tam who dwelt in tents, Yaakov, who lied to his father and stole the birthright, Yaakov, who was on the run from Esav. Yaakov, who had a dream, and when he awoke said “God was in this place and I, I did not know it.” What was this place? The Torah tells us it was Beit El, which had previously been the city of Luz. Rashi disagrees. He says that place was in fact Har HaMoriah. The place where father Abraham had prayed, and Yitzchak too. But Yitzchak almost died there. So Yaakov was terrified of this place, where had the akeida been fulfilled, he would not have been born. So Rashi says that at this point “Mount Moriah was forcibly removed from its locality and came hither to Luz.” Why did God have to uproot the mountain and drag it to Luz? Yaakov was running way, and avoiding confronting his past. Like a second generation survivor perhaps?

What did Yaakov mean when he said “God is in this place but I, I did not know it.” It was a revelation he had after his famous dream where Bob Dylan says Yaakov “built a ladder to the stars and climbed on every rung.” Chazal say this was the first time in 14 years that Yaakov had slept, having occupied his nights as well as his days studying Torah in the yeshiva of Shem and Eber until this point. But how could Yaakov, who has been in yeshiva for 14 years, not know God yet? Aviva suggested that perhaps he only learnt Sod HaTorah during this time, not Sod HaTfilla.

Sod Hatorah is going directly to what one wants. It is rolling the giant stone of the well and kissing Rachel. It is working to get what one wants. It is control, unity and harmony.

Sod HaTfilla is spending the whole night calling out the name Rachel and waking up to realize that “Behold, It was Leah.” Leah was not what Yaakov desired. But in order to obtain the bechora he had to find his dark side, saying to his father, “Anochi Esav, your first born.” The Sfat Emet says that Yaakov was speaking the truth at this point. Yaakov wants to amplify his identity beyond that of the ish tam yeshiva student. Yaakov needed to become Esav, the one who was destined to marry Leah, despite her crying her eyelashes out in protest. After Yaakov married Leah he hated her.

After Leah bared three children as the unloved wife, Yehuda was born. She said “This time I will praise the Lord.” How did Leah and Yaakov find their peace and reconcile their animosity for each other?

Because Yaakov stopped being Anochi Esav, and became Anochi Yaakov. How did he find his Anochi Yaakov? Like Hagar it the desert, God opened his eyes. And then Yaakov stumbled over it.

So maybe in order to have a meaningful tfilla experience, I will need to find my “Anochi” this year. That is the Sod Hatfilla. Hineni ki karata li.

From trees and bees

Shalom from Jerusalem. I have been living here for six weeks now. It's giving me a lot of sympathy for God. Being Ellul now, every morning, the Moroccan shule 50 meters from my apartment in Abu Tor begins slichot/shacharit at 4am. Shortly after, the muezzin from the nearby village of Silwan calls the residents there to prayer. Then the church bells from the Old City to the St Andrews Church of Scotland toll. Everyone here is crying and screaming to God. She must be a very good listener. I have visited the Kotel a few times. Cynics sometimes say that praying to God is Israel is like speaking to a wall.
I understand what they may mean. But it is Ellul, with Rosh Hashana fast approaching and I need to find a language in which to communicate. The king is in the field. Now is my opportunity. But for what shall I ask?

Every year I ask for peace, for the wellbeing of my community, friends and family. Doesn't everyone? But "Next year in Jerusalem" is now.
Rosh Hashana in Israel is like Grand Final day in Melbourne. For those who follow the event, the lead up takes a whole year.

The popular radio station galgalatz(think Fox FM) is asking for votes in the lead up to its annual top 40 countdown on erev rosh hashana, the supermarkets are already advertising their specials for the chaggim, Shules are sending out emails reminding the faithful to book seats for the main events.
There is talk that someone may top last years bid of 10,000 shekels to open the ark at one shule. I feel that this year, I should pray for something more specific.
Our tradition says that God's house once stood on the mountain next to the one where I live. Perhaps this year, with front row seats at the Kings former palace, my prayers may be answered.

This is not my first time in Israel. Something I have noticed on this visit compared to previous sojourns in this land is that the gaps within the Jewish community are widening. The antipathy between those on opposite sides of the political/religious spectrum is palpable. The differences in opinion are so wide, that the bridge to reconciliation seems filled with enough troubled water to end Australia's drought.

What do about the Kassams coming from Gaza with increasing frequency? The Syrian/Iranian threat? The construction and route of the security barrier? The challenge to the authority of the High Court from the Knesset? The widening gap between Jewish and Arab Israelis? The neo nazis in Petach Tikva? Returning Gilad Shalit home? The people in Tzahal who won't obey orders from their commanders? The people who now refuse to serve in the army at all?
The same people are offering the same options. Few inspire hope. Few seem to be bringing any of these issues closer to resolution.
So this year. I'll be praying for the following:

I pray that we will find a place in our hearts
A place that is hidden deep down
A place that is optimistic That is sweet and innocent
That has tasted no bitterness and war
I call this place Eden.

It's just north of Caulfield or Emek Refaim
There, one loves his neighbor more than he hates him
There, one honours the difference in the other
There, fear does not rule
There, one is wise, because he learns from all
There, one has time, because nothing is more important than the person looking into his eyes

There "Nation shall not lift up sword against nation,
They shall never again know war;
But every person shall sit Under their grapevine or fig tree
With no one to disturb them" (Micah 4:3-4)

The trees and bees have been working hard this year. On Wednesday night we will be enjoying their apples and honey.

May their sweetness be the beginning of a journey to a teshuva shleima that allows us to love the world anew, or in the words of Hannah Arendt:

"Education is the point at which we decide whether we love the world enough to assume responsibility for it and by the same token save it from that ruin which., except for renewal, except for the coming of the new and the young, would be inevitable. And education too, is where we decide whether we love our children enough not to expel them from our world and leave them to their own devices, nor to strike from their hands their chance of undertaking something new, something unforeseen by us, but to prepare them in advance for the task of renewing a common world."

I'm here to learn how to educate children. Sometimes, it's tough being an optimist in Israel. I pray that I will keep being one.
Shana Tova U Metuka
Love Ittay

I have just returned from a three day coexistence gathering with over 1200 Israelis and Palestinians held in the Olive Groves of the Latrun Monastery. Sponsored the grassroots organization Sulha Peace Project, the encounter aimed to use the indigenous process of mediation (Sulha), to rebuild trust and restore dignity between the two historic nations of this land.

It was inspiring and hopeful as it was sad and confronting. On presentation that particularly grabbed my attentionsentation of a movie from the Bereaved Families Forum called Encounter Point
After the film, there was a discussion facilitated by the two brave protagonists.

Ali Abu Awwad was shot by an Israeli settler in 2001. Whilst in Saudi Arabia for medical treatment his brother, Yusef was killed by an Israeli soldier. Ali had spent years in Israeli prisons for actions like demonstrating against the occupation, throwing stones, and being a member of a political party. When Yusef was killed, Ali joined the Bereaved Families Forum to work with Palestinians and Israelis who together advocate nonviolence and reconciliation.
Robi Damelin is an Israeli mother whose son David was shot dead in 2002 by a Palestinian sniper whilst he was manning a checkpoint. Robi is haunted by the loss of her son, and the knowledge that he was posted to defend an Israeli settlement in occupied Palestinian territory to which he was politically opposed. After David was killed, Robi also joined the Bereaved Families Forum.

They stood together after the film and had a very clear message. For many years both Israeli’s and Palestinians have been fed two myths by their respective media.

On the Palestinian side, there is a perceptions that all Israelis don’t want peace. They all serve in the army which inflicts a brutal occupation on the Palestinians. They have never offered to completely withdraw from the occupied territories.

On the Israeli side, the mantra being heard all too often is that the Palestinians don’t want peace and are only interested in driving us into the sea. Even this week, whilst Olmert is trying to restart negotiations, the leader of the Labour Party(which calls itself a leftist party) Ehud Barak repeated this mantra. Why? Meron Benvenisti writes in yesterdays Haaretz:

With the Camp David failure and the outbreak of the second intifada, the Israeli public needed a narrative that would unite its parts, justify its deeds and allow it to deal with a difficult situation while describing the situation as a war for survival. The narrative presented by Barak, in which he offered the late PA chairman Yasser Arafat the moon and Arafat chose violence instead, has become resistant to any contradicting argument, fact or evidence. Barak and his disciples have succeeded in convincing the Israelis that the Palestinian rejection of the generous and unprecedented offers led to the wave of violence, and that the Palestinians are not ready to end the conflict, which is not territorial but stems from their refusal to accept Israel's very existence.

The "there is no partner" formula is what led to the peace camp's destruction. Anyone who dared present a more complex picture was accused of supporting the enemy.

But the pundits' decree is unequivocal: Barak's motives are personal; he is undermining the process out of fear that someone will succeed where he failed.

Hearing Robi and Ali speak about how they have chosen the path of nonviolence was truly inspirational. They travel around the country visiting both Palestinians and Israeli schools sharing their stories and those of the others in the Bereaved Families Forum. Their message of non violence includes an admonition of Palestinian terrorist activities parallel to an equal condemnation of the Israeli occupation and soldiers who, when obliged to do serve in the IDF, act in a way for more brutal than is necessary.

For the path of non violence to work, we need to let go of a number of dreams.
1. That military force alone will eradicate the threat from the other side
2. That the occupation, in any form, can continue indefinitely
3. That Jerusalem can remain undivided

I know many Israelis and Palestinians who will never let go of these dreams. They say the dream of the left is a fantasy. Hamas and Islamic Jihad will always want to kill innocent Israelis. The Israeli government will never dismantle all the settlements. But what’s the alternative? Perpetual war? Continued UN resolutions and Quartet mediated peace conferences were neither side budges from their “red lines?” Unending occupation corrupts Israeli society as much as it harms Palestinian dignity.

Each morning of the sulha, there were sharing circles where we listed to each other’s stories. The pain and anguish was evident. In the evenings both Jewish and Arab musicians including David Broza, Yair Dalal and a Palestinian dance troupe performed and I witnessed something I had never seen before. Israelis and Palestinians dancing wildly together until 2 in the morning. It was like a wedding.

During the closing ceremony, many Palestinians, especially the teenagers, cried. Knowing that this island of peace and mutual respect was going to end the moment they stepped of their busses in Hebron, Ramallah and Jenin behind the wall and humiliating checkpoints.

I left feeling hopeful that such a gathering actually exists. Many of the Israelis present would be considered members of the extreme left , the Palestinians present would be considered traitors. As I mentioned at the start of this blog, Sulha is a grassroots movement. Most people present left convinced that the method I have just described is the best way to achieve peace between our two nations. We are but small minorities, the majority in both countries remain unconvinced.




From little things, big things grow…..

Yamim Kashim Ve Yamim Raim

I was privileged to hear the renowned Israeli Poet and author Haim Gouri today at the Hebrew University Ulpan.

Gouri is most famous for his song Hareut which he wrote in 1949. Two days before Yitzchak Rabin was assassinated he asked for it to be played for him during a radio interview.

It's beautiful words evoke a bygone era when unity and friendship were the raison d'etre of this state. The song is a memorial to the brave soldiers who fell in the War of Independence.

על הנגב יורד ליל הסתיו
ומצית כוכבים חרש חרש
עת הרוח עובר על הסף
עננים מהלכים על הדרך.

כבר שנה לא הרגשנו כמעט
איך עברו הזמנים בשדותינו
כבר שנה ונותרנו מעט
מה רבים שאינם כבר בינינו.
אך נזכור את כולם

את יפי הבלורית והתואר
כי רעות שכזאת לעולם
לא תיתן את לבנו לשכוח
אהבה מקודשת בדם
את תשובי בינינו לפרוח

They are gone from our midst,
All their laughter, their youth and their splendor.
But we know that a friendship like that,
We are bound all our lives to remember,
For a love that in battle is forged,
Will endure while we live, fierce and tender

After Rabin's assassination the song Hare'ut resounded frequently on Israeli radio. The line in the chorus: "Et Yafim hablorit vehato'ar" was strongly associated with a picture of the young Yitzhak Rabin of those days as the icon of the Palmach generation.

Towards the end of his talk I asked Gouri if when he wandered the streets of Jerusalem as he likes to do often, he felt despair for what this nation has become or hope. His answer was fascinating.

He explained that there are two types of periods in the history of Israel.
Hard days and Wicked days – ימים קשים וימים רעים

The Yamim Kashim were the days gone by when the nation of 600,000 in 1948, doubled its population in six years. There was a dire lack of resources, a siege on Jerusalem, and times were tough in the maabarot (refuge camps filled by mostly mizrachi olim).

יותר רעים מאשר קשים
Today's Israel is more reflective of Yamim Raim than Yamim Kashim. Why? Due to the lack of unity and hatred in this country. Jews have always had their differences, but the sharpness of the conflicts between am yisrael have never been as fierce as they are today. Datyim V Chilonim, Ashkenazim V Sephardim, Orthodox V Non Halachic Judaism.

Gouri continued to explain that the animosity is most intense when it comes to our conflict with the Palestinians. The inhumanity of this conflict is palpable. Only pure wickedness could conjure a political device so malevolent as the suicide bomber. An occupation that lasts 40 years is celebrated with fireworks. Collective punishment, the security fence, ID cards, Separation.

After reading this analysis, despair is a feeling that seems more apt than hope. But not for Gouri. For he sees this as merely a phase in an historic struggle. The Rhine was once red with blood, today there is a European Union were one can travel from Siberia to France without showing a passport. The Catholics and Protestants in Ireland murdered each other for centuries, and this wicked chapter is too now coming to a close. The Middle East will also one day merit its arrival of peace. How? Gouri says only when both sides realize that this conflict will not end by force alone.

סבלנות נרגילית

Patience is a rare virtue in Israeli politics. Sitting by a nargilla as the hours go by in the Old city has taught Gouri something he calls the "patience of the nargilla. "

Talking is the solution. But talking means making hard compromises that none of us want to do.

Tomorrow I'm heading of the Sulha in the Olive Groves by the Laturun monastery. To everything there is a season. I'm ready for the season of listening and patience.