A student in the Kol Torah Yeshiva in Jerusalem, approached his Rosh Yeshiva, Rav Shlomo Zalman Auerbach zt”l and asked him the question: May I leave my Torah studies in the yeshiva to go [for a short visit] and pray at the graves of tzadikim (righteous people,) in the Galilee (Northern Israel)?
Rav Auerbach answered, “It is better to say in yeshiva, and study Torah.”
The student replied, “Isn’t there a time I could go to visit the graves of tzadikim? Doesn’t Rav Auerbach go and pray by the graves of tzadikim?”
Rav Auerbach answered, “In order to pray at the graves of tzadikim, one doesn’t have to travel up to the Galilee. Whenever I feel the need to pray at the graves of tzadikim, I go to Mount Herzl, [the national cemetery for fallen Israeli soliders in Jerusalem], to the graves of the soliders…who fell “Al Kiddush Hashem” for the sanctification of G-d.
hat tip Cross Currents
hat tip Jewish Mom
Tuesday, May 17, 2011
Sunday, May 1, 2011
The Source For The Idea That a Jew Belongs in Eretz Yisrael

A potential oleh from America, who once had the honor of being in the presence of Rabbi Shlomo Zalman, was delighted to inform the Rabbi that he would be moving to Eretz Yisrael. This potential oleh then began to present a thesis of why he had a halachic obligation to move to Eretz Yisrael. His thesis was supported by sources ranging from Torah Sh’Bichtav to Gemara, Rambam, Shulchan Aruch and various Acharonim.

If the posuk of ‘Vayashavtem Bah’ is the source of the mitzva to live in Eretz Yisrael, then Sefer Breishit with Avraham being told to go to Eretz Yisrael, Yitzchak never leaving Eretz Yisrael and Yaakov being forced out but constantly yearning and finally returning to Eretz Yisrael, is the source for the idea that a Jew belongs and is welcome in Eretz Yisrael.
Monday, April 11, 2011
Pictures From Where I Work: The Temple Mount
One of the greatest perks about working at Beit Orot, located on Har Hazeitim in Eastern Jerusalem, is the view!
Here is a picture of the view.
Here is a picture of the view.
Monday, March 28, 2011
An “Only in Israel” Experience: Living in Israel During Times of Tragedy
There are many reasons why I appreciate having moved to Israel; usually it’s because of a positive, “only in Israel” experience, like the beautiful Shema shel Boker that is broadcasted over the radio waves at 6am in the morning (on stations that are not religious) or like my daily commute, when I pass the walls of the Old City and am able to see the temple mount—the holiest place in the world, soon to be the home of the Third Beit Hamikdash.
However, I also appreciate being here during times of tragedy. Last month- when 5 members of one family were massacred in Itamar on Shabbat night by an unidentified terrorist - I also appreciated being on this side of the Atlantic ocean.
The Shabbat before we read Parshat Zachor, the Fogels sang Lecha Dodi in shul, ate a delicious Friday night meal with their children, and then they went to sleep. However, shortly after, an assailant entered their home, and murdered the two Fogel parents, Udi and Ruti, their 10 year-old son who was reading in bed, their 3 year-old son, and a three month-old infant, whose entrance to this world was still being celebrated by a sign on the Fogel’s door, wishing the family a mazal tov.
In Israel, we are addicted to news. This is because Israel is the center of the world, and as such, events happen here in a real-time frenzy. Grad rockets land in the south of Israel, bombs detonate in the heart of Jerusalem, soldiers are killed during training, and the U.N. passes laws condemning Israel for existing. When I checked my emails after Shabbat, all of my friends in Israel were posting the same news story: murder in Itamar.
My wife and I were of course very upset and began to mourn over a family we had never met. This was a family that was Jewish, who were killed because they were Jewish, and who were killed in a horrendous fashion. We were in shock.
The next day, I felt like the whole country began to mourn for the Fogels. Headlines about Itamar were splashed across every newspaper, Itamar was the subject of every morning radio broadcast, and it was all that my peers and I could talk about.
Arriving at work Sunday morning, I was greeted with forlorn faces and heaviness from all my co-workers. “Did you hear what happened to the family?” the secretary at my work asked me rhetorically. “My kids had trouble going to sleep last night,” my usually cheerful boss, Shlomo, who lives in a settlement outside of Jerusalem said as he entered the office.
Later that day, I was supposed to meet a friend, Nachman, in the Old City. We were going to discuss funding ideas he had for the nonprofit where I work in East Jerusalem. “I can’t make it,” he told me at the last minute, “I heard that the Fogel’s levaya is going to be at 2pm at Har HaMenuchot – I have to go.”
I couldn’t make it to the funeral. Har HaMenuchot is far from my work and I don’t have a car. However, I would be able to partake in the levaya remotely. A little bit after 2pm, I joined the thousands around the world who were watching the painful levaya on line and listening to our leaders for guidance and strength. We could not stop crying, the pain was too deep and overwhelming.
The Fogel family would be a trauma that the nation of Israel would suffer through the entire week and onwards as information and news about the murder situation slowly leaked to the press: there was the press release that the Fogel family had been one of the many families evacuated from Gush Katif; there was the news about Itamar’s security fence that was not checked thoroughly enough, allowing the terrorist intruder to enter the settlement, undetected; there was the video of Bibi visiting the shiva house, with Tamar Fogel, the 12-year old surviving daughter who was barely able to keep her head from collapsing; and there was the awareness that the major international news venues didn’t carry the story about the Fogels’ murder until Bibi announced that 500 new homes would be built in areas over the green line.
Bais Tefilah, a local Ramat Beit Shemesh shul, organized a trip of solidarity to the shiva house of Udi Fogel’s parents, who live in the settlement of Neve Tzuf, over the green line. Thousands of people had traveled to Neve Tzuf that week from all over the country to show their support and share in the pain. I joined the Bais Tefila group and together with many other olim from all over the world, we boarded a bullet proof bus. For some with me, this trip was the first time they would cross over the green line.
Udi’s parents spent the whole time we were there just sighing heavily and trying to breath. They did not talk. Our delegation lined up to say the words “HaMakom yenachem et'chem b'toch shar avay'lay Tzion vee'Yerushalayim. May the Omnipresent comfort you among the mourners of Zion and Jerusalem. A neighbor of mine added, “Udi was in my unit in the army. He was a good friend. I am so sorry for your loss.” When it came to my turn to say Hamakom, I bent down to give Udi’s father a warm hug. He hugged me back, tears glistening in his eyes.
Udi’s father looked at our Ramat Beit Shemesh contingent, and asked, “So, are you here to comfort us?” One member of our delegation responded, “No, we are here to comfort ourselves.” Our hearts were throbbing.
What happened to the Fogel’s is a horrible tragedy. It is something that has deeply affected me, and will continue to shape me as I continue my life here in Israel. Amidst all the pain, I still feel very grateful to have been close to our nation during this time and experience what it means to mourn for one of Israel’s heroes—a neighbor, a friend, a stranger.
However, I also appreciate being here during times of tragedy. Last month- when 5 members of one family were massacred in Itamar on Shabbat night by an unidentified terrorist - I also appreciated being on this side of the Atlantic ocean.
The Shabbat before we read Parshat Zachor, the Fogels sang Lecha Dodi in shul, ate a delicious Friday night meal with their children, and then they went to sleep. However, shortly after, an assailant entered their home, and murdered the two Fogel parents, Udi and Ruti, their 10 year-old son who was reading in bed, their 3 year-old son, and a three month-old infant, whose entrance to this world was still being celebrated by a sign on the Fogel’s door, wishing the family a mazal tov.
In Israel, we are addicted to news. This is because Israel is the center of the world, and as such, events happen here in a real-time frenzy. Grad rockets land in the south of Israel, bombs detonate in the heart of Jerusalem, soldiers are killed during training, and the U.N. passes laws condemning Israel for existing. When I checked my emails after Shabbat, all of my friends in Israel were posting the same news story: murder in Itamar.
My wife and I were of course very upset and began to mourn over a family we had never met. This was a family that was Jewish, who were killed because they were Jewish, and who were killed in a horrendous fashion. We were in shock.
The next day, I felt like the whole country began to mourn for the Fogels. Headlines about Itamar were splashed across every newspaper, Itamar was the subject of every morning radio broadcast, and it was all that my peers and I could talk about.
Arriving at work Sunday morning, I was greeted with forlorn faces and heaviness from all my co-workers. “Did you hear what happened to the family?” the secretary at my work asked me rhetorically. “My kids had trouble going to sleep last night,” my usually cheerful boss, Shlomo, who lives in a settlement outside of Jerusalem said as he entered the office.
Later that day, I was supposed to meet a friend, Nachman, in the Old City. We were going to discuss funding ideas he had for the nonprofit where I work in East Jerusalem. “I can’t make it,” he told me at the last minute, “I heard that the Fogel’s levaya is going to be at 2pm at Har HaMenuchot – I have to go.”
I couldn’t make it to the funeral. Har HaMenuchot is far from my work and I don’t have a car. However, I would be able to partake in the levaya remotely. A little bit after 2pm, I joined the thousands around the world who were watching the painful levaya on line and listening to our leaders for guidance and strength. We could not stop crying, the pain was too deep and overwhelming.
The Fogel family would be a trauma that the nation of Israel would suffer through the entire week and onwards as information and news about the murder situation slowly leaked to the press: there was the press release that the Fogel family had been one of the many families evacuated from Gush Katif; there was the news about Itamar’s security fence that was not checked thoroughly enough, allowing the terrorist intruder to enter the settlement, undetected; there was the video of Bibi visiting the shiva house, with Tamar Fogel, the 12-year old surviving daughter who was barely able to keep her head from collapsing; and there was the awareness that the major international news venues didn’t carry the story about the Fogels’ murder until Bibi announced that 500 new homes would be built in areas over the green line.
Bais Tefilah, a local Ramat Beit Shemesh shul, organized a trip of solidarity to the shiva house of Udi Fogel’s parents, who live in the settlement of Neve Tzuf, over the green line. Thousands of people had traveled to Neve Tzuf that week from all over the country to show their support and share in the pain. I joined the Bais Tefila group and together with many other olim from all over the world, we boarded a bullet proof bus. For some with me, this trip was the first time they would cross over the green line.
Udi’s parents spent the whole time we were there just sighing heavily and trying to breath. They did not talk. Our delegation lined up to say the words “HaMakom yenachem et'chem b'toch shar avay'lay Tzion vee'Yerushalayim. May the Omnipresent comfort you among the mourners of Zion and Jerusalem. A neighbor of mine added, “Udi was in my unit in the army. He was a good friend. I am so sorry for your loss.” When it came to my turn to say Hamakom, I bent down to give Udi’s father a warm hug. He hugged me back, tears glistening in his eyes.
Udi’s father looked at our Ramat Beit Shemesh contingent, and asked, “So, are you here to comfort us?” One member of our delegation responded, “No, we are here to comfort ourselves.” Our hearts were throbbing.
What happened to the Fogel’s is a horrible tragedy. It is something that has deeply affected me, and will continue to shape me as I continue my life here in Israel. Amidst all the pain, I still feel very grateful to have been close to our nation during this time and experience what it means to mourn for one of Israel’s heroes—a neighbor, a friend, a stranger.
Wednesday, March 23, 2011
One More Reason to Make Aliyah: 2 days of Purim
Everyone recognizes how great the Jewish holiday of Purim is. It's fun for both children and adults: kids dress up in costumes and eat candy, adults have a celebratory meal and party.
Although Purim is celebrated in the middle of the Jewish month Adar, Israel was transformed into a different place from the beginning of the Jewish month.
For example, in Adar, kids no longer had regular school. Instead, the schools strictly complied with the Talmudic dictum that Adar is a month for everyone to increase in their happiness. My kids had a fun school activity planned for them :scavenger hunts, school trips, dress up, and more! It became normal to see all of the kids of my community dressed up in a different costume each day.
Yes! My kids were never so happy, and we all agreed, that no place celebrates Purim quite like Israel.
However, perhaps the most special thing about celebrating Purim in Israel is that you have the opportunity to celebrate Purim twice!
Jews Who Live in Unwalled Cities
Jews who live in cities that were unwalled during the times of Yehoshua celebrate Purim on the 14th of Adar. Living in Ramat Beit Shemesh, that applied to me, and it also applies to most Jews who live in the diaspora.
A picture from my Purim meal on the 14th of Adar.
Shushan Purim: Jews Who Live in Walled Cities
Jews who live in cities that were walled during the times of Yehoshua celebrate Purim on the 15th of Adar. This mainly includes cities in Israel, including Jerusalem.
Of course, this is what I did and here is a picture at the Purim meal I went to in Jerusalem, on the 15th of Adar.
That means that if you live in Israel, you are able to celebrate Israel twice, on the 14th and the 15th of Adar.
Are you still living outside of Israel? Why? What are you waiting for?
Sunday, March 6, 2011
Wednesday, March 2, 2011
Six Things I learned This Week at Fonsi: The Future of Nonprofit Summit (Israel)
This past week, I attended Fonsi, a summit to bring "together some of the best professional, innovators, lay leaders, organizations, brands, and other passionate people to explore tools and ideas to move the vital third sector forward." The summit was organized by Causil and Reach3k (thank you, guys, for bringing this to Israel!).
Held at the Nalagaat Center (picture below) at the Jaffa Port in Tel Aviv for nonprofits in Israel, Fonsi was a great experience. It was fun, it was educational, and it was eye-opening to see the breadth of nonprofit activity that is going here in Israel.
The following are six points that I took away from the summit.
1) Engage Your Audience
The point of a nonprofit's social media and web presence is for one purpose only: to engage. The person who visits a nonprofit's site, or reads the nonprofit's facebook status or tweet, should feel moved somehow, more connected to the nonprofit's mission and work.
And how can you engage your audience? Simple. Follow Simi Hinden from PresenTense's advice: "Nothing engages your audience like a lively photo or video." Take pictures at your events and at your programs, and then post them. This will help someone who wants to know more about your organization's work be able to visualize what exactly your nonprofit does.
"Nothing engages your audience like a lively photo or video." - Simi Hinden from PresenTense
It will also help donors and potential donors connect with your cause. As Joe Hyams (CEO of Honest Reporting) put it, web content and visuals on your organization's activities is a nice, "Thank You" to your donors, showing them where their contributions go to.
2) Email is the Killer App
In a session titled "Engaging Your Community," Tomer Marshall from Leadel jokingly remarked that "email is the killer app." Later, in a 10-minute Quick Fire Session, Miriam Schwab from Illuminea reinforced this: "Nothing brings a better ROI than email."
It's very easy to get distracted and mislead these days into thinking that new tools, like social media, is the greatest way to connect to donors and other stakeholders of your nonprofit. But this is simply not true. Yes, despite it being so 2005, emails delivered to your stakeholders via their email inbox remains the most effective way to engage them!
"Sending out a periodical e-newsletter is like keeping an open channel between your organization and those who feel connected to it," said Tomer. (He recommends Mad Mimi as a great tool for sending out quality newsletters.)
3) Journalists Need You
One session at Fonsi was a panel of journalists and PR professionals who discussed how to "Get Your Organization Some Press."
David Regev from Yediot Achronot shared a candid secret to the audience: "We Journalists need you." He went on to explain that journalists are always looking for the human angle to their stories, and that nonprofits are usually at a key advantage to provide them with that human perspective.
He added that nonprofits are therefore entitled to make reasonable requests to reporters, like "please add that our organization does X" or "please don't mention Y."
Ruth Eglash from the Jerusalem Post added, "Nonprofits don't need to be scared of us journalists."
Nontheless, Jeremy Wimpfheimer from DJW Consulting stressed that timing is important when it comes to approaching a reporter: "It may not be the best idea to call a reporter about your nonprofit on the same day of a Flottila crisis."
When it comes to timing, Dena Kraft from JTA mentioned that mornings are often a good time to call a reporter. Later in the day, journalists are closer to their deadlines and more pressed for time. "Also, please ask up beforehand whether we are in the middle of something," she remarked, because the reporter maybe in the middle of something else, and it wouldn't be the best time to pitch the story idea.
She also suggested that nonprofits don't just send an email, but also followup with a phone call. She once almost missed a really important story because a nonprofit only emailed her the information, without following up with a phone call to explain why the news piece was important.
4) Simply Your Donation Form
Oded Zehavi, from PayPal in Israel, had one suggestion for all of the summit's attendees: make the donation form on your site simple. A complicated form, with lots of fields, will just give potential donors extra time to change their minds.
"It's so inexpensive to have the capability to accept donations on your site, there is no reason you shouldn't have it," added Tova Semkin from Beit Galgalim.
5) Coordinate Online and Offline Campaigns
A lot of buzz has developed recently over e-philanthropy.
While it's true that many donors these days use the internet to give financial support for their causes, every session at the summit brought up the fact that in no way are online campaigns and e-philanthropy taking over as the mainstay of fundraising.
Per Tova Semkin, e-philanthropy "is a way to supplement your fundraising, but most fundraising is still done offline." She added that "it takes times to grow online campaigns and any online campaign needs to be integrated with offline campaigns." Many people still feel most comfortable sending in a check, especially Israelis.
6) Make the Ask
Last but not least, it's important to keep in mind one thing Yonatan Ben-Dor mentioned from Israel Toremet: "No one ever donates money, unless they are asked first, so don't forget to make the ask."
"No one ever donates money, unless they are asked first, so don't forget to make the ask." - Yonatan Ben-Dor from Israel Toremet
So yes, it's important to engage your audience and yes, it's great if you can get them in "the loop" (Miriam Schwab's term, referring to getting stakeholders and potential donors to start receiving your email, seeing you on Facebook, reading your blog, and watching your YouTube videos). However, at the end of the day, a nonprofit can only do its great work if it has enough money (hence the old adage, money = the lifeblood of a nonprofit). Hence, make sure that you also ask for donations as part of your online strategy.
The Fonsi summit next year will be in Jerusalem. See you there.
Friday, February 25, 2011
Come to Israel, Where Wafers Are a Food Group!
This is a picture from a local supermarket in Ramat Beit Shemesh.
An English translation of what's written above is:
AISLE 1
Fruits and Vegetables
Wafers
Yes, that's right folks! Wafers are important enough to be listed separately as it's own class of food. And there's only 4 aisles in this whole supermarket.
Friday, January 28, 2011
The Perils of Facebook (Is Aliyah Really a Good Thing?)
Widespread are reports that implicate Facebook as the culprit and instigator of much dangerous situations: cyber-bullying, sketchy hookups with strangers, etc. I've had my share of such experiences, one of which I'll share below.
Take the following picture of a real facebook comment and responses from my Facebook account. This was from last April. (Names have been purposely blurred to hide the identity of the other facebook users involved.)
First there was Jim (fictional name), who replied that:
We all understood what Jim was getting at; it's reminscient of Reuven Spolter's 2004 Orthodox Union article that noted that modern orthodox communities in the U.S. were shrinking because of loss of community members to aliyah. However, many of my friends are staunch Zionist, and they couldn't let Jim get away with speaking pejoratively about aliyah.
Mike (again, a fictional name) replies to Jim
It's beyond the scope of this post to discuss my view point of this matter, but it's worthwhile to note that this is just of many incidents in which a simple, and ostensibly innocent, Facebook status spiraled out of control, serving as a platform for a discussion of various opinions that I never intended.
Take the following picture of a real facebook comment and responses from my Facebook account. This was from last April. (Names have been purposely blurred to hide the identity of the other facebook users involved.)
It all started with me posting a status:
I am at a Yom Ha'atzmaut event in Baltimore.
One of the features of the event was that all the families making aliyah from Baltimore that year stood on stage, and received an official farewell from the community. After the event was over, I commented on my own status that:
Going up on stage [for the farewell at the Yom Haatzamaut event] was striking for several reasons. I was amazed how many kids there were. I think it's the first year that there are so many young families with little kids going on aliyah. yeah.....!I go to sleep that night, believing that the conversation was over. However, I wake up the next morning to 7 new emails from Facebook indicating that people had commented on my status.
First there was Jim (fictional name), who replied that:
Actually, it's too bad so many people are leaving to Israel because it hurts Baltimore's local zionist school and community(Note: the person's status does not show up in the above JPEG because he erased it after he realized the commotion that it started.)
We all understood what Jim was getting at; it's reminscient of Reuven Spolter's 2004 Orthodox Union article that noted that modern orthodox communities in the U.S. were shrinking because of loss of community members to aliyah. However, many of my friends are staunch Zionist, and they couldn't let Jim get away with speaking pejoratively about aliyah.
Mike (again, a fictional name) replies to Jim
Unfortunate? Aliyah unfortunate? Get your emunah together, man. The Jewish future is in Eretz Yisrael. If you are truly a Maamin then you should WANT your US yeshiva's enrollment's to dwindle precisely because so many are making aliyah. Chasdei Hashem that we live in such special times and are wittnessing Kibbutz Galuyot. Get with the program. Hashem's program, that is.Agreeing with Mike was Nancy, who previously had made aliyah from Baltimore and had stood on precisely that same stage during the Yom Ha'atzmaut ceremony, several years before:
I'm happy to hear the numbers are going up again. Our year (07) we were more families than that all with 4+ kids. There is nothing sad about it except the families sitting in the audience who still don't realize that a successful Tzioni school can't and shouldn't be able to survive outside Eretz Yisroel. Am Yisroel belongs in Eretz Yisroel and there is nothing more special than that. What a kiddush Hashem it is for the world to see the Jewish people return home after thousands of years because of choice not neccesity.The rest of the comments welcomed my family to Israel.
It's beyond the scope of this post to discuss my view point of this matter, but it's worthwhile to note that this is just of many incidents in which a simple, and ostensibly innocent, Facebook status spiraled out of control, serving as a platform for a discussion of various opinions that I never intended.
Friday, January 21, 2011
Tu B'Shvat in Israel (My First!)
Today was the Jewish holiday, Tu B'shvat——the 15th of the Hebrew month Shvat——referred to in the Talmud as the "New Year for the Trees" because it's the date used for calculating the beginning of the agricultural cycle (for the purpose of biblical tithes involving trees and fruit).
Outside of Israel, this holiday often passes barely noticed, languishing in the realm of the minor holidays. However, in the Land of Israel, every Jewish holiday is an important one, and Tu B'shvat is celebrated as a major reason for rejoicing, accompanied by different customs. For example, here in Israel it's customary to partake of a feast of fruits (a.k.a. the Tu B'shvat Seder!) that was first instituted by the famed 16th century kabbalist Rabbi Yitzchak Luria of Tsfat.
Additionally, it's become a time to plant trees in Israel: the Jewish National Fund (JNF) organizes tree-planting activities across the country. This custom took particular significance this year in the wake of the destructive fire that consumed over 1 million trees in the Carmel Forrest a few months ago in Israel's north. Below is an advertisement from the JNF that was widely distributed throughout Israel, encouraging donations to help replant of Carmel's forrest.
It feels very special as a new immigrant to Israel to be in Israel on Tu B'Shvat. For one thing, you end up celebrating a Jewish holiday that is improperly neglected outside of Israel. More than that, however, Tu B'Shvat these days is all about planting trees, i.e. creating roots, and as an oleh hadash in his first year here, that is exactly what I am doing. I am settling in the Land of Israel, every moment trying to plant my own family's roots here, as we make Israel our new home.
I especially felt a lot of pride when my son (pictured below) planted his first tree today in Israel, in front of his school.
Outside of Israel, this holiday often passes barely noticed, languishing in the realm of the minor holidays. However, in the Land of Israel, every Jewish holiday is an important one, and Tu B'shvat is celebrated as a major reason for rejoicing, accompanied by different customs. For example, here in Israel it's customary to partake of a feast of fruits (a.k.a. the Tu B'shvat Seder!) that was first instituted by the famed 16th century kabbalist Rabbi Yitzchak Luria of Tsfat.
Additionally, it's become a time to plant trees in Israel: the Jewish National Fund (JNF) organizes tree-planting activities across the country. This custom took particular significance this year in the wake of the destructive fire that consumed over 1 million trees in the Carmel Forrest a few months ago in Israel's north. Below is an advertisement from the JNF that was widely distributed throughout Israel, encouraging donations to help replant of Carmel's forrest.
It feels very special as a new immigrant to Israel to be in Israel on Tu B'Shvat. For one thing, you end up celebrating a Jewish holiday that is improperly neglected outside of Israel. More than that, however, Tu B'Shvat these days is all about planting trees, i.e. creating roots, and as an oleh hadash in his first year here, that is exactly what I am doing. I am settling in the Land of Israel, every moment trying to plant my own family's roots here, as we make Israel our new home.
I especially felt a lot of pride when my son (pictured below) planted his first tree today in Israel, in front of his school.
Thursday, January 13, 2011
It's Time To Be An Optimist For Israel
The present economic situation continues to be dismal in the United States. Meanwhile, things are looking up and hopeful in Israel.
For example, compare the following 2 news stories from this week. Zillow.com, a real estate website in the U.S., reported that the U.S. housing market is now worse than the 1929 depression.
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Meanwhile, the Taub Center for Social Policy studies, published a study that the Israeli public's sense of well-being is at an all-time high.
An experience this week resonated tremendously within me, really bringing home this thought about how fortunate I am to have picked up and moved to Israel.
I was waiting for the bus by the Binyani Haumah alongside a throng of other stand-byers waiting for their own buses.
A sight caught my attention in the horizon (picture at the bottom of this post), so I turned to the person closest to me, nodding to the distance. "Ma?" snorted my neighbor, so I pointed again with a smile that flickered across my face, and asked in Hebrew, "Don't you see that amazing sight; it's so beautiful!" He looked puzzled, and in hopelessness, I decided to look away instead of trying to explain to him what was going on in my head.
But I was reminded of a chapter in in the book, To Dwell In The Palace, which is a collection of essays addressed to religious Jews in the West concerning aliyah.
In one essay, "It Will Seem impossible" by Yisroel Amishav, the writer encourages the reader to discount "troubling reports" about the the economic and political situation here in the Land of Israel. Instead, Amishav cajoles us to make our own independent assessments about what it's like in Israel.
In Amishav's own words:
"Have you, by any chance, been to visit the holiest city in the world lately.... If you had, you would have seen some puzzling sights. You would have, if you looked up as you walked, seen more cranes than you could count."
Luckily, I had my iPod touch with me and was able to take a picture. Here it is. Click on it to see it enlarged, and to see even more cranes that are cut off from the picture below.
Thursday, January 6, 2011
The View From Aish HaTorah's World Center
Next time you're in Jerusalem's Old City, I recommend you make a stop at Aish Torah's World Center, take the elevator to the top floor, and walk onto Aish's roof.
From the roof, you can see the entire Kotel plaza, the cemetery on the Mount of Olives, and a large portion of the Temple Mount (including the Dome of the Rock and the al-Aqsa Mosque). In my opinion, the view from Aish's roof is unmatched compared to other views in the Old City.
Here is a short video clip I took with my iPod Touch last time I was on Aish's roof.
Aish's roof also houses a large, detailed replica of the Second Temple (see picture below). It's lachrymose to view this replica of the Second Temple, a reminder of the glory days of Jewish history, juxtaposed to the current Temple Mount.
From the roof, you can see the entire Kotel plaza, the cemetery on the Mount of Olives, and a large portion of the Temple Mount (including the Dome of the Rock and the al-Aqsa Mosque). In my opinion, the view from Aish's roof is unmatched compared to other views in the Old City.
Here is a short video clip I took with my iPod Touch last time I was on Aish's roof.
Aish's roof also houses a large, detailed replica of the Second Temple (see picture below). It's lachrymose to view this replica of the Second Temple, a reminder of the glory days of Jewish history, juxtaposed to the current Temple Mount.
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