LIBI B'MIZRACH

YOM YERUSHALAYIM & SHAVUOT MAY, 2021

Produced by the Israel Action Committee of Ner Tamid Greenspring Valley Congregation Baltimore, Maryland

Sponsored by Yisrael and Hindy Motzen

in Honor of the Dedicated Volunteers of Ner Tamid

and by Jay and Dina Bernstein in Loving Memory of Henry & Irene Bernstein Z"L Contents From the Editor

3 Shavuot & Yom Yerushalayim R abbi Jonathan Sacks writes that the essential message of the holiday of Shavuot is "the love 5 June 7, 1967 that is loyalty, and the loyalty that is love." This concept is epitomized by Megillat Ruth, a book 6 At the Lions' Gate permeated by love and kindness. Ruth is loyal to Naomi, Boaz is loyal to Ruth, and theirs acts of 7 Yerushalayim, & Gratitude loyalty and kindness are rewarded in the birth of the grandfather of Dovid HaMelech. 8 Yom Cheftzi-Vah On Shavuot, the loyalty exhibited by the Jewish 9 Yerushalayim & Jewish Unity people in following Hashem into the wilderness was rewarded when Hashem and Am Yisrael were 10 Yom Yerushalayim & the Census e t e r nally betrothed to each other on Har Sinai.

12 Ruth & the Power of Avodah For 2,000 years, the Jewish people remained loyal to Yerushalayim, It was the focus of our 13 Shavuot & the prayers, the subject of our mourning, and the inspiration for our dreams. On June 7, 1967, this 14 Torah, Society & Land loyalty was rewarded when, as a result of the kindness of Hashem and the heroism of the IDF, 15 Torah & Jewish Sovereignty Yerushalayim was restored to Jewish sovereignty. 16 Mount Sinai & Mount Moriah This issue of Libi B'Mizrach celebrates and 17 Shavuot & the Begin Doctrine explores the gift of Yerushalayim, and the connections between Shavuot, the Land of 18 Meaning of " of Gold" Israel, and the modern State of Israel. We hope the articles collected enhance your celebrations 19 Yerushalayim Shel Zahav of both Yom Yerushalayim and Chag Shavuot.

20 The Paratroopers are Crying Jay Bernstein, [email protected]

Libi B'Mizrach, page 2 Shavuot & Yom Yerushalayim Rabbi Yisrael Motzen, Ner Tamid Congregation

Dear Friends: It was wonderful to hear such warm feedback on our inaugural issue of Libi B'Mizrach. As a community that strongly identifies with the State of Israel and its central role in our religious life, it is especially important to all of us to give intellectual expression of our connection through this publication. A special thank you to Jay Bernstein who worked tirelessly to put this Yom Yerushalayim-Shavuot edition out in time.

Aside from falling out on the calendar in close succession, there does not at first glance seem to be much in common between Shavuot and Yom Yerushalayim. In truth, they are in many ways mirror images of one another. Pesach celebrates the exodus from Egypt, but the Jewish People’s freedom was incomplete until they received the Torah on Shavuot. It was only through the receiving of the Torah that the Jewish People had a sense of purpose and meaning. The days of the Sefira that connect Pesach and Shavuot highlight their intrinsic connection.

Similarly, in 1948, the Jewish People received an incredible gift - the land of Israel. Finally, after more than 2,000 years the Jewish People were home. What a joy! Nonetheless, our joy was dimmed. “If I forget thee, O Jerusalem, may I forget my right hand.” Israel is our home, but it also the source of all holiness. Without Yerushalayim, and even worse, with Yerushalayim sealed away behind barbed wires and fences, how could our joy be complete?

It was only in 1967 that G-d performed overt miracles, allowing the State of Israel to defeat its enemies in six short days, and giving us back our beloved capital, Yerushalayim. While we still await the complete redemption, the Six Day War gave us a renewed sense of belonging in our land.

One difference remains. We waited a mere 49 days to receive the Torah, while we waited over 2000 years to proclaim, “Har Habayit b’yadeinu!/ The Temple Mount is in our hands!” May we merit to wait no longer and see the rebuilding of the Beit HaMikdash/ the Temple, and through it may we give full expression to our precious Torah. Wishing you a Chag Sameach.

Libi B'Mizrach, page 3 Yom Yerushalayim 28 Iyar 5727

“Who will not rejoice at heart to hear the glad tidings? For now the gates of Zion, ancient Jerusalem, and the are open for the prayers of their children -- their builders and liberators in Israel, and all throughout the , who will come to offer up thanks to the Creator of the universe. The Divine Presence, which has never departed from the Western Wall, is now moving before the armies of Israel in a pillar of fire to light our way to victory, and is enveloping us in clouds of glory. Happy are we who have been privileged to witness this exalted hour, supreme in the annals of our people." - of the IDF, Brigadier General , June 7, 1967

Libi B'Mizrach, page 4 June 7, 1967 Excerpted from "Jerusalem the Eternal" by Eli Landau

While a group of officers directed the battle from the Temple Mount near the entrance to the Mosque of Omar, a unit of paratroopers make its way to the Wailing Wall. Ahead of them ran an Arab dressed in white, perhaps chosen by history to be their guide. At first he did not grasp what the group rushing exultantly towards him was looking for. When he understood, he smiled and proceeded with slow, weighty steps towards the narrow street leading to the wall. In the wall to the right was a small doorway. A paratrooper broke it open and suddenly let out a wild yell: “The Wailing Wall! I can see the Wall!” A huge wall, with weeds growing between its gray stones, stood before them. Soldiers pushed their way through the wicket to the wall and caressed its stones, and stroking its heavy hewn stone.

For two successive days the paratroopers had been fighting a cruel and relentless war, in the city streets, on Ammunition Hill, over fences, at the entrance to the police station -- where they had lost their best friends, without shedding a tear. Here, at the Wailing Wall of the Jewish people, they found an outlet for their emotions. Some pressed their lips against the cool wall. Others fell on their knees and embraced the heavy stone, weeping for their friends who had remained in the blood-stained streets and had not been granted the privilege of living to this great moment -- and taking part in this glorious elation experienced by the Jewish people.

A group of soldiers rushed to raise the blue-and-white flag above the wall. The wind unfurled the flag, which 19 years ago had sneaked ignominiously out of the Old City, and had now returned proudly, packed in an Israeli officer’s battle-pack. The blast of a shofar pierced the air. The Chief Chaplain of the IDF, Brig. Gen. Shlomo Goren, had arrived at the wall with senior officers who had hurried to the beleaguered city to join in this historic moment. Many prayers were offered up by Rabbi Goren, but the prayer which made the deepest impression on the paratroopers was Yizkor, which he recited in a whisper, in memory of those who had been left behind on the way to the Temple Mount, in the battle-scarred police station, in the blazing turrets, alongside the shattered doorways, beyond the No Entry signs crushed by tanks.

All day paratroopers kept coming back to the Wall, as though they wished to tell it about their experiences in battle. At night, when they crowded near the massive stones, a medical officer, Captain Uri, was called to one of the houses in town. A Moslem woman was about to give birth. The doctor was led through the narrow streets to a small alcove lit by a street lamp. The woman was contorted in pain. He delivered her -- a sub- machine gun slung over his shoulder, a steel helmet on his head. When he returned to the Wall, a soldier offered him some coffee in a tin can.

While sipping the hot liquid, the paratroopers talked to each other, saying that “perhaps this birth signaled a new, better day.” Their eyes were riveted on the clouds of smoke rising from the scorched houses, on the piles of rubble lying at their feet, on the destruction. They listened to the wailing of infants from nearby windows. Before dawn they again recalled their comrades who had fallen. Now and then a sniper’s bullet whistled above the houses. A gentle breeze wafted through the cracks in the Temple Wall. “Now all that’s left is to rebuild it all,” murmured one paratrooper to his comrades, as they gazed at the new dawn rising over the City of David.

Libi B'Mizrach, page 5 At the Lions' Gate Excerpted from "Like Dreamers" by Yossi Klein Halevi

Yoel Bin-Nun approached the Lions' Gate. Spread before him was the landscape of messianic dream. Terraced into the Mount of Olives were thousands of flat tombstones, of Jews who had chosen to be buried directly across from the Temple Mount, to be resurrected when the Messiah came. In the Valley of Kidron rose the conical stone monument called the Pillar of Absalom, after the rebellious son of King David, founder of the messianic line. Nearby, embedded in the Old City wall, was the Gate of Mercy, through which, according to tradition, the Messiah would enter, and which had been sealed up by to thwart the redeemer of Israel.

Yoel ran up the steep road leading to the Lions' Gate, past the still-smoking bus, and through the crowded gate. When he reached the steps leadign to the Dome of the Rock, he abruptly stopped: beyond lay the region of the . He felt lightheaded, as if on a mountain peak. To move from battle to this ---

He couldn't pray; prayer seemed inadequate. What was left to ask for? He felt himself to be an answered prayer to all those who had believed this day would come, that would vindicate Jewish faith. He studied the topography: "This was the area of the Temple," he told a friend. "How do you know, Yoel?" his friend asked, surprised. Yoel explained that he happened to be studying the laws of the Temple just before the war, and he could plainly see the 's description of the layout of the Mount.

Young men on their way up the stairs stopped to ask Yoel directions to the Western Wall. Yoel shrugged; the Wall didn't interest him. The Jews had prayed there only because they'd been barred from the Mount. Why descend to the place of lamenting God's absence from that place that celebrated His glory? Yoel thought of his high school rabbi, who had claimed that Israel's failure to control the Temple Mount was proof that God had rejected . What was the rabbi thinking now? "So, Yoel, what do you say?" his kibbutznik officer asked. "Two thousand years of exile are over," replied Yoel.

One day, he believed, Jews would celebrate the story of modern Israel as they now celebrated the exodus from Egypt. Perhaps with even greater awe; in the ancient Exodus, after all, Jews had left a single country, while in the modern exodus they'd returned home from a hundred countries. A people keeping faith with its lost homeland and returning after two thousand years: impossible. The farther away we moved from the founding of Israel, the more extraordinary the story would appear.

Libi B'Mizrach, page 6 Yerushalayim, Torah & Gratitude Rabbi Dov Linzer, www.library.yctorah.org

Yom Yerushalayim and Shavuot mark two tremendous gifts that have been bestowed S upon us: the gift of a unified Jerusalem that we received only 54 years ago, and the gift of the Torah, that we received over 3000 years ago Sadly, we tend to experience these not as gifts, but as taken-for-granted realities.

How do we learn to see our blessings as gifts? There are hints to an answer in parshiyot Behar-Bechukotai. Behar opens with the of the Sabbatical Year. What is the purpose of this ? According to the Sefat Emet, Shabbat is not only about rest, it is about “returning,” another meaning for the same Hebrew root. By our not working it, the land returns to God on the Shmita year. And what is the purpose of this return? So that it can be given to us anew when the Shmita year concludes. So that we can appreciate that it is from God and again receive this tremendous gift.

For us to receive this gift, however, we must do something beyond not working the land; we must discern that this gift is from God. If we learn to see these things as gifts, then they will indeed become not only gifts, but gifts that are constantly renewing. How to maintain this attitude, this consciousness? By stepping back to appreciate and by doing without. When we don’t work one year out of seven, or one day out of seven, we can take time to reflect, and gain the distance to appreciate what it means to have land, to have a country, to be able to provide for oneself and one’s family. And when we are forced to do without work for one day or one year, we appreciate what we had, and we are therefore able to receive the gift again.

Movement is the key. It is the movement back and forth, in our immersing ourselves in our work and in our withdrawing from our work, in our giving to God and receiving back from God, that prevents the relationship from becoming stale, that keeps the relationship alive and vibrant. Which brings us to Bechukotai, which opens with the blessings that we will receive if we obey the commandments. The key work is halakh, to go or to walk. This occurs in the opening of the blessing: “If in My decrees you will walk,” and at its summation: “I will move about in your midst, and will be your God."

Having God in our midst is not enough. If God just dwells, and we just dwell alongside God, then pretty soon we will take God’s presence for granted. If the relationship remains stagnant, if God is present in our midst, but we are just sitting side by side, things can get pretty stale. The relationship stays alive when nothing is taken for granted, when we are always finding new ways to connect, to light the fire, to do something about the tremendous gift of God and God’s Sanctuary in our midst. When we, in short, walk about, then God as well will “walk about” in our midst, constantly renewing our relationship, transforming it from stationary to dynamic.

As we approach Yom Yerushalayim and Shavuot, let us commit to never taking these two gifts for granted. We can be constantly moving about – working to renew our relationship – with Yerushalayim and with the Torah. If we can bring our passion, our excitement, our moving about, to this relationship, if, every day, we can see the Torah as a gift, then every day our relationship with it, and with God, will be renewed, and we will truly receive God’s gifts each and every day.

Libi B'Mizrach, page 7 Yom Cheftzi-Vah Rav Yehuda Amital, www.etzion.org.il

In the Tanakh, "Yom Yerushalayim" appears in the context of destruction: “Remember, O Lord, unto the children of Edom the day of Yerushalayim (yom Yerushalayim), when they said, ‘Raze it; raze it to its very foundations.’” (Tehillim 137:7) Perhaps, therefore, it would have been more appropriate to call the day, “Yom Cheftzi-Vah:” As the Navi states, “You shall no more be called ‘Forsaken,’ and your land shall no longer be called ‘Desolate;’ rather, you shall be called ‘My Delight’ (cheftzi-vah), and your land inhabited.” (Yeshayahu 62:1-4). Although a great distance still remains to be covered, the return of Jewish sovereignty to Jerusalem after 2,000 years of foreign rule still represents something of the promise of “cheftzi-vah.”

Seemingly natural historical events, and certainly supernatural historical events, represent God’s communication with Am Yisrael. Some of these miracles are overt and manifest, like the splitting of the Red Sea; others are hidden, like the miracles of Megillat Esther. All of these, however, may be regarded as the “Written Law;” all of these miracles came from God. At the same time, there is an “Oral Law” – the sphere of joint activity between God and Am Yisrael.

From the destruction of the Temple until the establishment of the State of Israel, Jewish history under Divine providence was conducted as the “Written Law.” Since Israel was established, the miracles and wonders that we have witnessed in Eretz Yisrael are manifestations of the “Oral Law.” Divine providence provides the possibility and the timing, while Am Yisrael fights and actualizes.

It was discovered after the Six-Day War that the IDF leadership had predicted the duration of the war, the victory, and the number of casualties with great accuracy. The General Staff plan was God’s plan; God took care of the timing and prevented failure. This is true of the victory against Egypt and Syria – but the liberation of Jerusalem was a manifestation of the “Written Law.” There had been no operative plans for conquest of the city, and calming messages had been conveyed to Jordan.

The Talmud teaches that Jerusalem was destroyed “because of Kamtza and Bar-Kamtza.” Is it possible that but for the unfortunate mistake of the servant who invited Bar-Kamtza instead of Kamtza, the destruction would have been averted? Obviously not. The Divine decree had already been sealed, but Divine Providence produced a demonstration that symbolized and reflected the reasons for what happened later. What was exposed was an instance of senseless hatred.

In the period of Israel’s rebirth, too, God exposed an image: Israeli paratroopers weeping at the Western Wall. Secular people, kibbutz members – this was the picture of the great longing of secular Jews, cut off from their religious roots. This image carries a profound message concerning the religious consciousness of all of Am Yisrael. In the depths of its heart, in the deepest recesses of its soul, Am Yisrael is connected to God. It was out of this national unity that Jerusalem was liberated.

Libi B'Mizrach, page 8 Yerushalayim & Jewish Unity Rabbi Binyamin Tabory, www.etzion.org.il

"Each man of Bnei Yisrael will encamp by his own flag, with the emblems of their father's house" (2:2). We may ask, why did Bnei Yisrael wait until the second year to organize themselves into this special formation according to tribal and family flags? Why did they not do this immediately upon leaving Egypt?

The flags represent the uniqueness of each tribe. Each flag was in the color of the tribe's stone in the Kohen Gadol's breastplate, and this flag expressed the tribe's characteristics. The ordering of Bnei Yisrael by standards and emblems teaches us that the tribes differ from one another and that each is special in its own way. But in order to express this uniqueness, it was necessary to wait until the second year. First of all, the nation as a whole had to be unified and consolidated, and only thereafter could there be any discussion of the individual characteristics of each tribe. The individuality of the tribes had to be based on some common denominator.

This unity was expressed in the erection of the Mishkan. The Mishkan was a unifying factor among the nation. The entire nation camped around it and gathered towards it on several occasions. This too may explain why the encampment by flags began only in the second year. The Torah itself tells us, "Each man of Bnei Yisrael will encamp by his own flag... around the Ohel Mo'ed." Once there is an Ohel Mo'ed, then the nation may encamp around it in tribal formation. First there must be something around which they are unified, and only then can each tribe display its own special standard.

There are other factors that unify Am Yisrael. One is the Torah, and another is Jerusalem. In Tehillim (122:3) we read, "Jerusalem, built up as a city that is all joined (chubra) together," and the (Yalkut Shimoni) explains, "It is a city that makes all of Israel friends (chaverim)." We may also interpret this in halakhic terms: even the simple folk are considered "chaverim" – scholars - when they make a pilgrimage to Jerusalem (for matters of ritual purity, ma'asrot, etc.).

It seems that the holiness of Jerusalem and its significance cause the simple people to be more careful in their halakhic observance when they make a pilgrimage (see Chagiga 26). But this Midrash can also be understood in philosophical terms: there is something metaphysical in Jerusalem that brings about the unification of Israel. We see that Jerusalem is truly a matter of consensus among Am Yisrael; even those who were far removed from Torah and mitzvot were tremendously excited when Jerusalem was liberated in the Six Day War.

It is interesting that just as Am Yisrael needs Jerusalem as a unifying factor, Jerusalem also needs the nation. We recite, in our Kabbalat Shabbat prayers, "Shake yourself, get up from the dust, adorn yourself with the garments of your glory, O my nation." Many believe that this is an appeal to Am Yisrael, for it ends with the word "ami" (my nation), but then it is unclear why the call is formulated in the feminine. Rather, this is clearly a call to Jerusalem, which is mentioned previously in the same prayer ("Sanctuary of the King, Royal city"). We call to Jerusalem to arise from the dust and to adorn herself with the garments of her previous glory. According to this perception, it is the garments of Jerusalem's glory that are referred to by the word "ami." Am Yisrael is the glory of Jerusalem. When Am Yisrael make their pilgrimage there and dwell there, then Jerusalem is glorified. Libi B'Mizrach, page 9 Yom Yerushalayim & the Census Rabbi Joshua Gerstein, www.timesofisrael.com

The entirety of Parshat Bamidbar is devoted to the census of the Jewish people in the desert before their journey towards the Land of Israel. This was not the first census taken of the nation in the desert; they had already been counted prior to the construction of the . Why then was it necessary to conduct a second census of the Jewish people in such great detail, a little more than a half a year later? The Ramban offers three detailed explanations for the additional census which not only sheds light onto our question and the biblical text, but also adds a new perspective to the modern day return of the Jewish people to the Land of Israel.

First, the census served to emphasize that the nation had grown from 70 individuals to hundreds of thousands. It reminded the people of their humble beginnings and of the importance of viewing their present through the lens of their past. Second, the census counted each and every person individually, highlighting not only their strength as a nation but also of their own individual value and impact. Third, as they were set to cross the and begin the battle for the Land of Canaan, the census counted the number of soldiers available for war, in line with the concept of not relying on miracles.

Just like the census in ancient times served as a reminder of our growth from a tiny people to a large nation, so too in order to truly appreciate the importance of the re- establishment of the Jewish State, it is imperative that we first develop a proper understanding of our past. Only by viewing the State of Israel through the lens of the last 2000 years of Jewish history – through the Crusades, the Inquisition, the Shoah – will one be able to begin to comprehend Israel’s significance.

Second, the census counted each person one by one to highlight the importance of the individual. So too today. The verse writes, “You shall inherit the Land and settle in it, for I have given you the Land to inherit it” (Bamidbar 33:53). The Ramban explains that this positive commandment includes conquering the Land of Israel, as well as dwelling in it. Though conquering the Land of Israel is done by the nation at large, it falls upon each and every individual to contribute in their own way to the settlement of our homeland.

Finally, the census served to count the soldiers. Explains Rav Soloveitchik, a victory through seemingly natural means is a greater tribute to God. He writes,“ does not pursue miracles that occur outside the realm of nature … God’s natural Providence is the crowning jewel of His management of the world“ In line with this idea, the State of Israel has lived a miraculous existence since its very inception, albeit through the cloaked rather than openly miraculous hand of God. The establishment and survival of the State of Israel has been nothing short of miraculous, but has occurred through seemingly natural means such as the UN resolution in 1948, and the military victories of Tzahal. As Rav Soloveitchik mentioned, cloaking the miraculous in the natural is the crowning jewel of His management of the world.

As we celebrate this Yom Yerushalayim, may we merit to see the State of Israel against the backdrop of history, to internalize that each and every one of us has a tremendous amount to contribute towards settlement of the Land, and to recognize that the seemingly natural order of things are in fact God’s guiding hand. With these messages close to our hearts, may we see the coming of the final redemption speedily in our days.

Libi B'Mizrach, page 10 Chag Shavuot

“The opening of Megillat Rut emphasizes the significance of Eretz Yisrael. Rut begins with the deaths of Elimelech and his sons, which the Midrash attributes to their fleeing Eretz Yisrael during a time of famine. Leaders who abandon the country at times of trouble do not appreciate the value of Eretz Yisrael. In contrast to the negative introduction to the story, the rest of the Megilla is set in the daily life of Eretz Yisrael. The kindness described in Megillat Rut relate primarily to mitzvot that are connected to the Land: leket (gleaning), shichicha (overlooked sheaves), ma'aser ani (tithes for the poor). While kindnesses can also be performed in the Diaspora, these agricultural acts of Chessed are unique to Eretz Yisrael. As noted by Rav Kook, these are our Nation’s ‘socialist’ laws; the love of one’s fellow man as expressed in the everyday, national life of the Jewish community in Eretz Yisrael.”

-- Rav Shlomo Aviner, “Eishet Chayil: Nashim B’Tanach”

Libi B'Mizrach, page 11 Ruth & the Power of Avodah Rachel Friedman, www.timesofisrael.com

The story of the exodus in the book of Shemot is punctuated by three key words that describe the experience of the Israelites in Egypt. The first is avdut or servitude; the Hebrews are condemned to slave labor. The second is inui or oppression; the Israelites are tormented by Pharaoh and the Egyptians. The third is gerut or foreignness; the Israelites are foreigners in the strange land of Egypt.

It is striking that the first chapter of the book of Ruth describes the experience of Naomi, her husband and sons in Moab with the very same language that the Torah uses to describe the exodus experience. There is the gerut: Elimelekh, Naomi, and their family journey to Moab to escape famine. There is also the inui: Naomi declares to the women of Bethlehem that she and her family feel oppressed by God.

There is one key element of the Egypt experience, however, that is missing in the description of Naomi’s experience in Moab. Unlike the Exodus narrative, the word avdut (oppressive labor and servitude) is never used to describe the suffering of Naomi’s family. Interestingly, the root of avdut appears only in the closing verses of the book. The child born to Ruth and Boaz, who supports and cares for Naomi in her old age, is named “Oved,” literally translated as someone who engages in hard work.

There is a powerful lesson to be learned from this literary compa- rison. In the story of the exodus, avdut is the problem: The Jews are forced into slavery, bondage, and oppressive labor. In the story of Ruth, avodah — continuous hard work, which derives from the very same root as avdut — is the solution. The redemption of Naomi is in her grandson Oved, who symbolizes the hard work and devotion of her family, particularly her daughter-in-law Ruth.

The events of recent Jewish history and the ideals of reinforce the message of the book of Ruth. Religious Zionism is about human initiative and hard work guided by Divine providence. It believes that avodah is not a trademark of slavery but rather the key to redemption. It took devoted, human labor to drain swamps, build kibbutzim, yishuvim, cities, infrastructure, businesses, and communities in Israel in the last 73 years — as well as schools, hospitals , , and houses of Torah study. It is telling that the motto of the early Zionist pioneers was precisely the idea of avodah — human enterprise and creativity, and that the mantra of religious Zionism is Torah, Avodah, and Eretz Yisrael.

The 73 years since the establishment of the State of Israel has witnessed the transformation of the nation of Israel from the avdut (slave labor) of the Exodus narrative to the oved (hard work and human enterprise) of the story of Ruth. As we celebrate Yom Yerushalayim and the holiday of Shavuot, we must acknowledge that we are not only the children of the Exodus but also the children of Ruth. We must recognize that it is the very combination of Divine providence and human initiative that ensures both the posterity and prosperity of the Jewish nation.

Libi B'Mizrach, page 12 Shavuot & Eretz Yisrael Rabbi Yosef Tzvi Rimon, www.yeshiva.co.il

Why is the Counting of the Omer so i mpor- to provide sustenance and a livelihood. Rabbi Ben Zion Uziel Rabbi Yitzchak Nissim Rabbi Ovadiah Yoseph tant? The Ramban explains that the purpose As such, it does not override Shabbat. Rabbi Ben Zion Uziel Rabbi Yitzchak Nissim Rabbi Ovadiah Yoseph of counting is to connect Pesach to Shavuot, The saw agriculture as "imbued thus creating, so-to-speak, one ongoing with holiness, highlighted by the holiday spanning the 49 day count. Pesach celebration of the first harvest, the Omer, represents the first Yom Tov of the holiday, a public sacrifice which overrides Shavuot the last, and the days counted in the Shabbat." interim are parallel to Chol Hamoed. Why is it so important to connect Pesach and Shavuot? In other words, agriculture in the Land of Israel emanates from a wellspring of Beyond the spiritual aspiration expressed by holiness, and is intrinsically linked to the the counting, one can find another reason role of Am Yisrael. Therefore, the underlying this Mitzvah. We find a celebration of the first harvest is a disagreement (Menachot 65-66) between the celebration of the entire people, and Boethusians and the Pharisees regarding the overrides Shabbat. The Counting of the term, "from the day after the Sabbath." The Omer represents 2 distinct processes of Boethusians believe this refers to the ordinary holiness: a spiritual process beginning at Shabbat within the Pesach holiday, implying the exodus from Egypt and culminating the counting must begin on a Sunday. The with the Revelation at Sinai, and an Pharisees, on the other hand, interpret this agricultural process, which reflects our term as the day after the first Yom Tov of thanks for all our grain and embodies Pesach. This dispute has additional Halachic recognition of the unique holiness of the ramifications. According to the Boethusians, it Land. It then becomes clear that is not possible that the day of the harvesting Counting the Omer has a special of the Omer will be on Shabbat, since it must connection to the Land of Israel. always take place "the day after" – Sunday. However, according to the Pharisees, if the For many generations, our ancestors first day of Pesach falls on a Friday the could only find expression of the harvesting of the Omer would indeed take spiritual process of the Counting of the place on Shabbat (Menachot 63-64). Omer, which is linked to Matan Torah, on Shavuot. Although we still do not have Rav Kook elucidates this dispute based upon our Temple and we do not bring the the principle that an individual’s personal offering of the Omer and Shtei HaLechem sacrifice does not override Shabbat, while a on Shavuot, we are privileged to live and public offering can override Shabbat. The dwell in our Land. Our spiritual disagreement between the Boethusians and advancement during the days of the the Pharisees was not over the sanctity of Shabbat. "The Boethusians were certainly not Omer is related to the Land of Israel. more concerned about the sanctity of Shabbat While this link is particularly emphasized than the eternal keepers of the Torah – the in relation to agriculture, it is present in Pharisees. Their battle was not over protecting all the realms of human development and Shabbat from desecration by the harvesting of creativity in our Land. Out of the holiness the Omer." The crux of the argument was how of the Torah, we can connect the sacred to view agriculture in Israel. and the mundane. This connection is most profound in our Holy Land, where The Boethusians considered agriculture in the materialistic world, in general, and Israel as a private economic matter, in order the agricultural world, in particular, are raised to a level of holiness.

Libi B'Mizrach, page 13 Torah, Society & Land Rabbi Yaakov Meir, www.torahmitzion.org

The Torah does not explicitly link the Festival of Shavuot to the Giving of the Torah. Shavuot is called by various names: Katzir [“Harvest”], Shavuot [“Weeks”], Atzeret [“Assembly”] and Bikurim [“First Fruits”]. Matan Torah was left out, so to speak.

By contrast, at the end of the section on Shavuot the Torah writes, "When you reap your land’s harvest, do not completely harvest the ends of your fields. Also, do not pick up individual stalks that may have fallen. You must leave all these for the poor and the stranger. I am the Lord your G-d” (Leviticus 23:22).

While this utterance is indeed connected to the harvest in general, what does it have to do with Shavuot? Also, the Torah was given at Sinai. Some say that Mount Sinai is outside the Land, and others say it is within the Land (Rabbi Yehudah HaLevi, Kuzari). Both agree that the Sinai revelation preceded the tribal partitioning of the Land.

Yet a profound lesson is being taught: The Torah, as it finds expression in its ideas and its way of life, is not dependent upon time or place. It transcends both. Beyond that, however, the Torah in its ideal fulfillment, is dependent upon a place — the Holy Land. Only there can it be fulfilled completely, to perfection, in the climax of its glory, just as the Holy Land cannot achieve its own perfection without the Torah. Not just the mitzvot that depend upon the Land express this link, but all the Torah’s mitzvot and ideas, and all the Land’s atmosphere and inspiration — all the special traits of our land — constitute Torah in its pristine, all-inclusive sense.

Only this complete blending together of the Torah and the Land enables both of them, and the people of Israel who live in their land according to their Torah, fully to actualize their ideals. Eretz Yisrael is not “the Holy Land” in its fullest sense without the Torah. Neither is the Torah complete without Eretz Yisrael.

Shavuot is the Harvest Festival of the year’s first wheat in Eretz Yisrael. It is not just the Festival of the Giving of the “Torah,” in the abstract sense. Rather, it sets out to mark our prosaic lives in Eretz Yisrael, lives of toil and productivity, which reach their climax at the harvest. Precisely then, in the most difficult moments of hard labor, in the most wonderful moments of satisfaction, when a person is filled with pride over his accomplishments, precisely then comes the test of a Torah life in the Land. For at that moment we must not forget the poor man and the stranger and the orphan. We must not relate to the harvest as our own exclusive property, without first linking it with the Master of All, by setting apart for the poor the ends of the field, the fallen stalks and the forgotten sheaves.

When Jewish field owners in Eretz Yisrael transcend their own interests in this manner, developing refinement and good qualities, they become the living embodiment of the Torah’s influence. In their day-to-day lives, in moments of harsh labor, they are put to the test. It is here that the Torah achieves its full application. This is the three-fold perfection that cannot be quickly severed — the Torah, social justice, and Eretz Yisrael.

Libi B'Mizrach, page 14 Torah & Jewish Sovereignty Rabbi Kenneth Brander, www.ots.org

We are told in the Midrash (Bereishit Rabbah 16:4) that “there is no Torah like the Torah of the Land of Israel.” In what sense is the Torah studied and taught within the confines of the Land of Israel meaningfully distinct from the Torah of other locales?

With the birth of the State of Israel, Torat Eretz Yisrael took on a whole new meaning, or a renewal of a meaning that had been fossilized. As Rav Soloveitchik described in remarks delivered on June 12, 1967, “In the last 2000 years, the Jewish people played no role in the historical arena. Now, the great miracle has happened, that our people somehow emerged from the shadows, from anonymity, and are now in the center of the universal stage.” No longer a small, dispersed minority, the Jewish people are now an independent, sovereign nation, a f ull-fledged member of the family of nations. What does the return to sovereignty mean for Torat Hashem as we build not just a state for Jews, but a Jewish State? Torah now has a renewed responsibility to deal with a government and an army, and the repercussions of such power. We need to discuss how Shabbat and Chagim look in the public sphere – how we operate our hospitals, army bases, power plants and recreational spaces. We must ensure that religion is not a political tool of the few but a portal of ethical and spiritual entry for the many. We need to rediscover texts that discuss the moral and religious guidelines that must inspire our national policies in areas such as the plight of asylum seekers, the needs of migrant workers, and support for those who suffer economically. We need to muster halacha and the judiciary system to end the the agunah crisis. We must explore the halachic principles that can and should guide us in fairly engaging the minority populations who live among us.

Torat Eretz Yisrael is not limited to our national borders. With more nations ready to establish bilateral relations with Israel, and with governments and regimes the world over committing atrocities against their own populations and against their foes, how will we be guided by the Torah’s eschatological vision of a lasting, harmonious world peace? These questions and so many more are what make Torat Eretz Yisrael unique, rich and expansive. By engaging in these issues, the Jewish people are propelled onto the world stage, with the opportunity to make a global impact.

We are taught that as Rabbi Akiva was martyred, a key moment marking the fall of the Second Commonwealth, the letters of the Torah ascended toward heaven. With sovereignty lost, elements of the Torah itself became inapplicable, and were sent into heavenly exile to await our people’s return. Today, Torat Eretz Yisrael is the recognition that only in Medinat Yisrael does Torah have the capacity to fully engage the private, communal and global arenas of Jewish life and outlook. In Israel, we have the opportunity and ability to restore the Torah to its rightful prominence.

Today’s Torat Eretz Yisrael has the capacity to be holistic and visionary, confidently confronting the needs of Am Yisrael in its own sovereign state. It is a calling to forsake neither our ancient traditions nor the ever-changing realities around us, but to find the interconnectivity between them. This is the Torah of Eretz Yisrael! May we merit to study it, to teach it and to bring it to life.

Libi B'Mizrach, page 15 Mount Sinai & Mount Moriah Sharona Margolin Halickman, blogs.timesofisrael.com

The Talmud, Taanit 16a asks: What is the meaning of Har HaMoriah (Mount Moriah)? Rabbi Levi bar Chama said that it was the mountain from which Torah instruction (horaa) went out and Rabbi Chanina said that it was the mountain from which fear went out to the idolatrous nations. Where is this mountain?

Usually we think of Har HaMoriah as the Temple Mount in Jerusalem as God instructed Avraham to go to the Land of Moriah and offer Yitzchak as a sacrifice on one of the mountains. Also, Avraham called the place HaShem Yireh, which sounds like Moriah. Rashi and Tosafot point out that Har HaMoriah could also be a name for Mount Sinai. What is the link between these tw o Har HaMoriahs- Har Sinai and Har HaBayit?

In Parshat Trumah, we read about the Mishkan which according to Ramban ensures that the glory of God that was revealed to B’nai Yisrael at Ma’amad Har Sinai remains with them. Just as God spoke to Moshe at Har Sinai, He will continue to speak to Moshe from the Mishkan. Ramban explains that the public glory that rested on Mt. Sinai (“The glory of God rested on Mt. Sinai and the cloud covered it for six days“) would rest privately on the Mishkan (“The cloud covered the Tent of Meeting, and the glory of God filled the Mishkan").

In Dvarim 4:36 we see how God spoke to B’nai Yisrael at Mt. Sinai: “From the sky He made audible to you His voice (kolo) to teach you, and on earth He showed you great fire, and you heard his words from within the fire.” God spoke to Moshe at the Mishkan (Bamidbar 7:89) in a similar fashion: Moshe "would hear the voice (hakol) being spoken from the kaporet (ark cover) which is atop the Ark of Testimony from between the two cherubim; and He spoke to Him.” Ramban points out that the two gold cherubim can be compared to the fire at Mt. Sinai. Just as God spoke at Mt. Sinai through the fire, in the Mishkan He speaks from between the two cherubim.

The next step in the journey was bringing the Mishkan to the Land of Israel and eventually placing it in its final destination, the Beit HaMikdash on the Temple Mount in the days of King Shlomo. At that point, God’s glory which was on Har Sinai was transferred by the Mishkan to Har HaBayit.

We learn from each Har HaMoriah the lesson of humility. Neither Har Sinai nor Har HaBayit are as tall as Har Carmel or Har Tavor yet they were the mountains where the Shechina (Divine Presence) rested. The Mishkan as well teaches us humility as it was built of the precious possessions that B’nai Yisrael selflessly donated.

Libi B'Mizrach, page 16 Shavuot & the Begin Doctrine Meir Solveichik, www.commentarymagazine.com

In June 1981, as Israel was about to b egin Shavuot, Prime Minister Menachem Begin informed the media he had just ordered one of the most audacious operations in modern military history: the destruction, by Israel’s Air Force, of the Osirak nuclear reactor outside Baghdad. The mission had seemed impossible, as it required flying a total of 2,000 miles—and Israel did not have the ability to refuel. It was assumed that not all the pilots would make it back alive.

2021 marks the 40th anniversary of the “Begin Doctrine,” according to which no enemy of Israel will be allowed to acquire nuclear weapons.

It is easy to forget how unexpected the attack was and how outraged much of the world was by it. Shimon Peres sent him a letter pleading to hold off, the international media largely denounced the attack as state-sponsored terror, and even world leaders sympathetic to Israel came down hard. Margaret Thatcher spoke of “a grave breach to international law,” and the Reagan administration ordered Jeanne Kirkpatrick to support an anti-Israel resolution at the UN.

The controversy and surprise show just how this operation, which kept a nuclear weapon out of the hands of Saddam Hussein, was a testament to the unique worldview of one man. Menachem Begin always felt the personal presence of those murdered in , especially of his father and mother. Again and again, Begin made clear, in the months before the attack, that the fate of his family was very much on his mind. “This morning,” he told the cabinet during an Osirak planning meeting, “when I saw Jewish children playing outside, I decided: ‘No, never again.’”

In a meeting with American Jews in May 1981, Begin was asked what he thought was the lesson of the Holocaust. He replied: “First, if an enemy of our people says he seeks to destroy us, believe him. Don’t doubt him for a moment. Don’t make light of it. Do all in your power to deny him the means of carrying out his satanic intent. Second, when a anywhere is threatened, or under attack, do all in your power to help. Never pause to wonder what the world will think or say.”

Yehudah Avner, Begin’s speechwriter, reported that as the planes took off, Begin said to himself “Hashem yishmor aleihem,” may God protect them. When he was informed that the strike was successful, he instinctively exclaimed two words that Jews have said every day for centuries: "Barukh Hashem," thank God. A month later he met with the American Jewish leader Max Fisher and reflected further on the religious meaning of the moment: “Am I a believer—do I believe in Elokei Yisrael, the God of Israel? The answer is a categorical yes. How else to account for our success in accomplishing the virtually impossible? ...Every conceivable type of enemy weaponry was arraigned against our pilots …. Only by the grace of God could we have succeeded."

Was the assault on Osirak a strategic achievement, or was it a miracle? For the prime minister, it was both. On Yom Kippur 1973, Israel had been caught napping; on Shavuot 1981, Begin announced to the world that Israel would not be caught asleep again. He believed that if Israel avoided somnolence, then its people would also have the right to pray to the God Who, according to the , is the protector of Israel that neither slumbers nor sleeps. Libi B'Mizrach, page 17 The Meaning of "Jerusalem of Gold" Jeremy Stein, www.cantors.org

When considering "Yerushalayim Shel Zahav," it is important to remember that Naomi Shemer wrote the song in 1967, prior to the Six-Day War. It praises Jerusalem, but also expresses sadness in the Jews’ not having full access to Jerusalem.

Opening with praises of beauty, Shemer closes the first stanza referring to Jersualem as a city that sits solitary with a wall in its heart. The “wall” is an obvious reference to the Kotel, and “heart” beautifully personifies Jerusalem as a loving, emotional being. “Sits solitary” refers to the opening line of Eikha—Lamentations, “Lonely sits the city.” By referencing Eikha, Shemer makes a bold statement: We may have our homeland, but we are still living, to a degree, in exile without full sovereignty of Jerusalem.

When the refrain enters, we hear the the title of the song which comes from the legend of Rabbi Akiva who, as a poor man, promised his wife that when he became wealthy, he would buy her a Jerusalem of Gold. This refers to a gold crown with turrets in the shape of the walls of Jerusalem that women used to wear. In using the term Yerushalayim Shel Zahav, Shemer may simply be poetically stating how beautiful and precious Jerusalem is. But in referencing the story of Rabbi Akiva, it is possible that Shemer is alluding to the circumstances faced by Rabbi Akiva and his wife—a sense of despair in one’s current condition (being poor/lacking a Jewish presence in the Old City) but also a belief in a better time to come.

The words “for all your songs I am a lyre,” come from a poem by Yehuda Halevi, who closed his poem “Libi B’mizrah—My Heart is in the East” with the words “I am like a lyre for all your songs.” In referencing this poem, Shemer further accentuates the notion of living in exile while Jerusalem remains in foreign hands. At the time that Shemer wrote Yerushalayim Shel Zahav, Israel had been an independent state for almost 20 years. Yet she still conveys a sense of emptiness without Jersualem.

The second stanza again references Lamentations, sharing the opening words, “Eikha yashvu.” Shemer laments that the market-place is empty (anther reference to the desolate Jerusalem of Eikha) and that Jews are not able to ascend the Temple Mount. In the third stanza, Shemer writes that while offering her praises, she is the smallest or least worthy of all of the children of Israel to offer such praises. The word Shemer uses for smallest is “katonti,” the word that Jacob uses in a display of humility before beseeching God for protection from his brother Eisav (B’reishit 32:10).

The stanza ends with what appears to be a sentence fragment: “If I forget thee, Jerusalem/Which is all gold.” This phrase is so familiar that once she says the first few words, the listener can fill in the rest (…may my right hand wither. May my tongue cling to the roof of my mouth if I do not remember you ...).

Following the Six-Day War and the reunification of Jerusalem, Shemer wrote an additional stanza. People now return to the marketplace which was recently empty, and to the cisterns which were previously dry, and the shofar is a sounded.

The melody is based on a Basque lullaby called Pello Joxepe, composed by Juan Francisco Petriarena 'Xenpelar' (1835-1869). Shemer heard the song in 1962 when singer/songwriter Paco Ibáñez performed it in a 1962 concert in Israel.

Libi B'Mizrach, page 18 Yerushalayim Shel Zahav Naomi Shemer

Libi B'Mizrach, page 19 The Paratroopers are Crying Chaim Hefer

This Kotel has heard many prayers This Kotel has seen many walls fall This Kotel has felt wailing women's hands and notes pressed between its stones This Kotel has seen Rabbi Yehuda HaLevi trampled in front of it This Kotel has seen Caesars rising and falling But this Kotel has never before seen paratroopers cry.

This Kotel has seen them tired and exhausted This Kotel has seen them wounded and scratched-up Running towards it with beating hearts, with cries and with silence Pouncing out like predators from the alleyways of the Old City And they're dust-covered and dry-lipped And they're whispering: if I forget you, if I forget you, O Jerusalem And they are lighter than eagles and more tenacious then lions And their tanks are the fiery chariot of Elijah the Prophet And they pass like lightning And they pass in fury And they remember the thousands of terrible years in which we didn't even have a Kotel in front of which we could cry.

And here they are standing in front of it and breathing deeply And here they are looking at it with the sweet pain And the tears fall and they look awkwardly at each other How is it that paratroopers cry? How is it that they touch the wall with feeling? How is it that from crying they move to singing? Maybe it's because these 19-year-olds were born with the birth of Israel Carrying on their backs - 2000 years.

Libi B'Mizrach, page 20