DAY  16
Friday, 22 January
Our day began with a talk by Avraham Svi. Mr. Svi had at one time been a member of the Orthodox Jewish community, and discussed the history and nature of Orthodox Judaism with us. The following are my notes:

The term “Haredi” means “ultra-Orthodox;” but here the prefix “ultra” doesn’t have the connotation of “abnormal”—rather, it means “those who fear God.” Haredi don’t refer to themselves as anything other than Jews, and believe that their lifestyle is simply the way Judaism is meant to be lived out. According to their point of view, all of the other branches who have allowed themselves to change and deviate from the path will have to answer for why they have changed—not the other way around.

Haredi repudiate modern western culture. Communism and Americanism are seen as equally evil, as part of the exile. According to ultra-Orthodox belief, not only Jews are in exile, but divinity is in exile in the world. Modernization and western culture are seen as a pulling away from the connection to God and the Jewish people. Haredi also oppose Zionism; they are not here for love of Zion but for love of God and their people, and they were here before Herzel even thought of it. The Zionist belief in addressing the situation of the Jewish people by establishing a secular nation—with religion playing only a smaller role in life is erroneous—that’s not what returning to The Land is all about. What it’s about, in Haredi belief, is cosmic redemption. A truly Jewish nation cannot be based on secularism.

Within Haredi society, there are differences of culture, Mr. Svi explains. The Haredi community is composed of people from many different nations, there are some people who integrate minor modern changes into their lives, and some who don’t at all. The diversity makes for richness in culture—for example, says Mr. Svi, there are members of the community who come from “different musical worlds.” Music is very important in Haredi society; they believe that music without words is of a higher order, as voices detract from the meaning of the music itself.

The spiritual and theological have a direct impact on the way society works and the way the community is built. Communities are close-knit, and center around the figure of the rebbi. It is based on kabbalah, and the emphasis is on simple faith, devotion, prayer and study of the Talmud.

In the political sphere, the question is, how do you deal with non-acceptance of Zionism in a modern Israeli state? Do you ignore it or actively reject it? How do you live in it if you’ve been here for two hundred years and see Zionism as an evil intrusion? Haredi consider themselves till in exile, since Zionism is not part of the process of redemption.

Ethics are considered extremely important; in fact, there is a movement in Lithuanian Orthodoxy which focuses upon ethics, taking as its most central theme the relationship to self and others, self-control and a moral life.

Haredi are also, Mr. Svi explains, generally very anti-Christian.

After the talk the women in our group go up to their rooms to change into skirts; we are going to Mear Sharim.

On the bus, Mr. Svi, who will be our guide in this ultra-Orthodox neighborhood of Jerusalem, continues to speak to us. Mr. Svi is in his thirties, an observant Jew with typical hair, clothes and glasses. He is extraordinarily articulate, intelligent, philosophical and sophisticated, aware of each word he utters and its true meaning, which sometimes cannot be translated.
Mear Sharim
We cross Jaffa Street and get off the bus in Mear Sharim, the largest Haredi neighborhood in the commercial district. As Mr. Svi speaks to us, a beggar approaches, hand outstretched. After giving him some money, Mr. Svi explains to us that the beggar has done him a favor, and that the merit he received from this small act of kindness is much greater than the little bit of money he gave him for a piece of Shabbat bread. In fact, we learn that this attitude towards charity is a given in Haredi society, but it is criticized by secularist as a dole for the unproductive.

We pass a bookstore which, among other items, sells children’s books: stories of the Tzaddikim. People in various degrees of traditional dress hurry past, not a single poor person goes ignored. On our way also, we see a collection box on the sidewalk; money and food may be donated here for poor families to have Shabbat.
On Mear Sharim Street, we enter the older section of the neighborhood. The Yemenite and Bucharian sectors date from the 1880’s and ‘90’s; the Polish sector from the 1910’s. Each sector is like its own little world. We pass through a gate to the Polish neighborhood.
Back on the bus, we pass Ain Kerem, the birthplace of John the Baptist; in the distance we see the Church of the Visitation. Finally, we reach Hadassah Forest, where we are to plant trees. Each of us is given a sapling; I choose a cedar. We descend dirt and wooden log enforced steps two levels to a terrace. Below us are more terraces with trees; above us arrow of flags from various countries. With hoes and shovels we dig holes and begin planting. I plant my cedar in honor of my colleagues and students at Saint Maria Goretti High School.
We return to the hotel (in front of which people are protesting the war in Lebanon) where we pose for a group picture, then have an evaluation session with Naomi, who has brought us fresh strawberries fro her garden. Afterwards, I meet Joan and Gina for chocolate, and we plan a surprise for the group: at our last meal together, we will give a tribute and small gift to everyone in the seminar, as well as our professors.

At 4:35 (I am five minutes late, because the Shabbat elevator stops at each floor) I made my way to the lobby and we boarded the bus for the synagogue. The service took place in the basement of a school; there is a screen dividing the room in half—one side for men and one for women. From our side of the screen, we can see only the silhouettes of the men. Unlike the service in the Great Synagogue, everyone took part in the prayer here, and at the same time.There was a great deal of singing, which was lovely; I tried to follow along in my English-Hebrew book, but ended up having to rely on gesture, like covering the eyes for the Shema or facing the back of the synagogue to welcome the Shabbat as a bride, to understand where we were in the service.
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