The Rites and Wrongs of Spring

Our Passover began wonderfully. Instead of hosting our five Passover guests in our home, we were invited to combine Seders with friends at their home. As this made Wendy’s pre-Passover preparations just that much easier, we readily agreed and looked forward to a Seder comprising some twenty-one people around the traditional table.

The Seder was a delight! But, unlike the Seders around the Bocarsky-Donnell family table, this rehearsal of the story of the Exodus from Egypt included discussion about every aspect of the story and its accompanying rituals. By the time we got to dinner it was already pressing eleven in the evening and by the time the formal reading of the Haggadah concluded it was already one-fifteen the next morning! Needless to say, we did not stay for the singing of the traditional songs that provide entertainment following the service.

Now, I cannot say that I would emulate this service, but I will say that I thoroughly enjoyed it and the meal that accompanied it. I particularly enjoyed two aspects of the evening. First, I was delighted by the inter-play of our host family. The parents and their three grown daughters (the eldest daughter is an architect living in Budapest, the second is a rabbi teaching Talmud in a New York Jewish day school, and the youngest is a newlywed with a newly minted university degree in history) probed and questioned each other, obviously delighting in impressing the others (especially their father) with a particular insight or modern twist to the ancient story of our people. The second aspect that I so enjoyed was saying the words with which Jews have ended the service for hundreds of years—this time as it is said in Jerusalem: “Next year in Jerusalem—the rebuilt!” It was quite an experience and I consider it a fitting first Passover Seder in our new community.

With Wendy’s sister Lori and her husband Roger visiting us for the week, we decided to spend the interim days of the festival in a very traditional Israeli manner—we traveled. Surprisingly, the is the busiest traveling season for Israelis who prefer to celebrate their Passover away from home, sometimes half-way around the world (for example, there is a now-famous Seder sponsored by the Habad organization held annually in Nepal). Our travel plans were far more modest as we chose to take some day tours around the country. On Monday we got up early in the morning, had a quick cup of coffee and then hit the road to my favorite archaeological site, the ancient city of Tzipori (Sephoris).

Tzipori is located in the Galilee near the city of Nazareth. Its place in Jewish history goes back to Alexander Janaeus, one of the Maccabean kings, who developed the city in the year 103 B.C.E. Tzipori is located on a hill over-looking the surrounding countryside and commanding important ancient trade routes from Babylonia and beyond down to Egypt. Tzipori developed as a very wealthy city, and grew in importance with the conquest of Israel by the Romans in 63 B.C.E.

Tzipori’s main significance in Jewish history goes back to the second century C.E. when it became the home of Rabbi Judah haNasi and the seat of the Sanhedrin (the legislative and judicial body of the Jewish people in the days of the rabbis). It was while he resided at Tzipori that Judah haNasi (the Prince) commissioned the Oral Law to be codified into what was to become the Mishnah, the basic stratum of the Talmud. It was at Tzipori that the rabbinic revolution firmly established itself and shaped the future of Judaism and the Jewish people. Interestingly, Jews were a minority in Tzipori in the days of Judah haNasi. Tzipori boasted an affluent and cosmopolitan population. There was a thriving theater bringing the best (and the worst) of Hellenistic culture to Tzipori’s citizens—Jews as well as gentiles. Grand public buildings with incredibly detailed mosaic floors crowned the commercial district with its paved roads chiseled and rutted by the wheels of the countless barrows and carts that brought goods to Tzipori from the farthest reaches of the Roman empire and beyond. It was in this affluent, multi-cultural and multi-religious city that the Sanhedrin deliberated and began the process of codification of the Halachah—Jewish Law.

Interestingly, just as I recounted the history and significance of Tzipori to our visitors, in Jerusalem the members of the 17th Knesset were being sworn into office. Separated by nearly two millennia, these two bodies—the Sanhedrin and the Knesset—symbolize the national vitality of the people of Israel. Those thoughts occupied me as we made our way back to Jerusalem from Tzipori and listened to the swearing-in ceremonies as they were broadcast to the nation.

It was through that broadcast that we were reminded of another Israeli reality—just as there were those who sought our destruction 2,000 years ago and deny us our patrimony in this land, so too are there enemies today who target us for their hate and homicidal fanaticism. As Shimon Peres addressed his colleagues as the senior-most member of the Knesset he spoke of Israel’s glorious past and his hopes for its futures. He also spoke of the challenges and harsh realities of Israel’s present as he referred to the terrorist bombing in Tel Aviv that occurred just hours before the parliamentary rites.

That was the first we heard of the bombing—the second in the exact same area within 3 months—which took the lives of nine people and wounded scores of innocent men, women and children. Blame (or as the perpetrators put it, credit) for the suicide bombing was taken by Islamic Jihad and Fatah. The latters’ involvement is significant because this was Fatah, not an offshoot such as the Al Aksa Martyrs’ Brigade that claimed it sponsored this act of terrorism. This was Fatah, the party of Palestinian Authority Chairman Mahmoud Abbas. And, while he personally condemned the action, Fatah’s involvement is clear indication that terrorism is sanctioned—if not officially—by the ruling Palestinian elite. And more, the new Hamas cabinet defended the bombing, saying that the Palestinians had a right to defend themselves against Israeli “atrocities.” Hamas spokesman Sami Abu Zuhri said that the terrorist attack underlined the Palestinian right to self-defense. This comes from the ruling party in the Palestinian Parliament! Hamas clearly has no immediate intentions of divorcing itself from its terrorist roots and remains a criminal organization.

Passover and its sacred rites teach us of the preciousness and precariousness of our freedom. The political and democratic rites of the Knesset speak to the importance of protecting and insuring those rights against the wrongs of those who seek to destroy more than to build and to take life more than to improve it.

Our visit to Tzipori reminded me how ancient and modern the message of Passover truly is.

Shalom from Jerusalem.

The Month of Spring in the Royal Garden

According to biblical tradition, the Hebrew month of Nissan is called Hodesh haAviv, the month of Spring. This month which is distinguished as the season of our annual celebration of Passover, marks the beginning of spring with all its floral delights. We have enjoyed a relatively wet winter, staving off for a little while the usual threat of drought in this land where water is more valuable than oil. So we feel blessed as we prepare our homes for Passover, clearing out the leavened remnants of the past year, cleaning and scrubbing our dwellings and our souls to ready ourselves for the advent of the Festival of Freedom.

I am particularly taken by the richness of the Israeli urban landscape as Wendy and I take our dog Kipper for walks through our neighborhood. All around us we see evidence of spring’s motley blessings bestowed upon the most unusual and unlikely places. Alleyways offer bouquets of tiny flowers eaking their way through cracks in the pavement as if to belie the drab ordinariness of a city passageway, while empty lots burst into a riot of color seemingly overnight just to delight us when we take our morning constitutional. And when we do, Kipper gets to do his business royally!

You see, across the street from our building is an empty lot about three to four acres in size. According to local lore (and the assurances of our realtor) this property actually belongs to Her Royal Highness the Queen of England. Yes, Kipper’s favorite dumping ground is royal land. Now, how many of you can make a similar claim about your pet’s privy? Ahhh, the wonders and delights of living in Jerusalem.

During most of the year, the plot is a Royal Preserve for the refuse and cast-offs of the neighborhood. But, during Hodesh HaAviv, the empty lot is transformed into a lush garden of wildflowers, butterflies and bees. The waist-high mustard plants cover the old pipe, bits of rubber hose, plastic containers and occasional errant license plate that decorate the sorry space. The yellow mustard forms the backdrop for the colorful display of wildflowers like a canvas painted by a divine hand. Indeed, for the next few weeks (very few unfortunately) we are graced by a garden worthy of Her Royal Highness herself.

So, rather than attempting to describe this marvel, allow these pictures to speak for themselves.

Wendy and I wish all of you a happy, and colorful Passover.
Shalom from Jerusalem.