Living in Jerusalem: A Journey Through Torah and Tradition

Since moving to Jerusalem in early April, I’ve found that each day feels like a gift, even amidst the challenges of living in a place under constant threat. Whether it’s news of battles in Gaza or missiles from Syria and Lebanon, the reality of living in a land that is often at war is always present. Yet, life here is so much more than these headlines.

One of the things that has enriched my time here is the incredible opportunity to study Torah in person, nearly every day, with some truly exceptional teachers. There’s a deep sense of community in these learning spaces, where men, women, children, and mixed groups come together, bonded by our shared heritage and the pursuit of wisdom. It’s hard to describe how much the Torah and halacha—Jewish law—shape our lives here. They guide everything, from how we interact with one another to how we care for the land and even how we understand the concept of war.

As Shavuot approaches, I reflect on this significant moment when, according to our tradition, the Jewish people stood at the base of Mount Sinai and received the Torah over 3,300 years ago. This isn’t just an ancient story; it’s a living, breathing part of who we are today.

Counting of the Omer

The forty-nine days between Passover and Shavuot are marked by a practice called “Counting the Omer.” Initially tied to sacrificial offerings in the ancient Temples of Jerusalem, today, it serves as a period for personal growth, a time to prepare ourselves spiritually to receive the Torah anew. Here in Jerusalem, spring is in full bloom, and as I walk the streets lined with fruit trees, there’s a sense of renewal and anticipation in the air.¹

Pursuing Spiritual Fulfillment

During these weeks, many of us dive into the teachings of Pirkei Avot, or the Ethics of the Fathers, which is filled with wisdom on how to live a meaningful life. One teaching that has particularly resonated with me this year is from Chapter 1, verse 3:

“Do not be like slaves who serve their master for the sake of reward, but be like slaves who serve their master not for the sake of reward.”²

This idea, as Rabbi Moshe Snow of the OU Teaching Center in Jerusalem explained, reminds us that the valid reward of Torah study isn’t material but spiritual—a deep, abiding connection to something greater than ourselves.³

Weekly Torah Study

One resource that has been invaluable to me is the weekly Torah Tidbits magazine, published by the OU here in Jerusalem. This free publication is filled with insights on the weekly Torah portion and has become a regular part of my Shabbat preparations.⁴

All-Night Torah Study

As we approach Shavuot, I’m particularly looking forward to the all-night Torah study sessions held in communities worldwide. These sessions culminate in a sunrise prayer service, where we read the Torah portion recounting the Ten Commandments. There’s something profoundly moving about being part of a community committed to learning and growing together, especially in these challenging times.

Unity and Strength

In a place like Israel, where the threat of war is never far from our minds, it’s easy to see our military strength as the backbone of our security. However, living here has shown me that our true strength comes from our unity, faith, and unwavering commitment to the Torah’s values. We are commanded to stand up for one another, to redeem hostages, and never stand idly by when we see our brothers and sisters in danger.

Israeli influencer Sivan Rahav-Meir captured this sentiment beautifully in her Shavuot message:

“The festival of Shavuot calls upon us to rise to the next level — that of authentic unity, unity for its own sake… We simply gathered joyfully at Mount Sinai, and there, we received our identity.”⁵

This message feels more urgent than ever. The unity we find through our shared history and values sustains us and will carry us forward, no matter our challenges.

A Night of Learning with Rav Kook’s Wisdom

Recently, I attended a class with Rabbi Goldscheider⁶, who shared some of Rav Kook’s ideas about learning on Shavuot night. What struck me most was his advice to study what truly speaks to your heart and to remember the importance of taking care of your physical health as a foundation for spiritual growth. It was a refreshing reminder that Torah study isn’t just an intellectual exercise but a holistic journey involving the mind, body, and soul.

As I prepare for Shavuot this year, I’m filled with gratitude—for the learning, the community, and the opportunity to be part of this incredible tradition. I wish everyone a hag sameach, a joyous holiday filled with the kind of unity and peace that Shavuot represents. May we all find ourselves under the Divine Umbrella of Peace and Justice, living in harmony with one another and the world.

Wishing you a holiday filled with learning, growth, and unity.


Footnotes:

  1. Chabad.org. “What Is the Counting of the Omer?” Chabad.org, www.chabad.org/holidays/passover/pesach_cdo/aid/87150/jewish/What-Is-the-Counting-of-the-Omer.htm.
  2. Chabad.org. “Pirkei Avot: The Translated Text, Selected Insights, Audio Classes, and Stories for the Children.” Chabad.org, www.chabad.org/library/article_cdo/aid/282399/jewish/Pirkei-Avot-Ethics-of-the-Fathers.htm.
  3. Rabbi Moshe Snow. “Author Bio.” Otzar HaTorah, https://outorah.org/author/138548/.
  4. Faculty of the OU. “Torah Tidbits: Parshat Bechukotai – Issue 1566 – Individual Articles.” Torah Tidbits, www.torahtidbits.com/parshat-bechukotai-issue-1566-individual-articles.
  5. Rahav-Meir, Sivan. Daily WhatsApp. Translated by Yehoshua Siskin, tiny.cc/DailyPortion.
  6. OU Israel. “Video Library.” OU Israel, Orthodox Union, https://www.ouisrael.org/video-library/.

My Journey in Israel, October 7-12: A Chronicle of Jewish Resilience

My trip to Israel in October unfolded in ways I could never have anticipated. What began as a joyful celebration quickly became a testament to the complex realities facing the Jewish community during the Simchat Torah festival—a time symbolizing renewal and hope as we complete the annual Torah readings and embark on a new cycle.

On October 7, I attended my nephew Rabbi Yair Silverman’s synagogue to celebrate Shmini Atzeret and Simchat Torah. This day marks the culmination of the Rosh Hashanah-Yom Kippur-Sukkot season, celebrating the Torah and its teachings. The joy was palpable as we completed the readings of The Five Books of Moses and began the story of Genesis, symbolizing the world’s creation anew.

Before the service began, Rabbi Silverman shared the unsettling news that Israel was under attack. He offered everyone the option to leave for safety; however, we chose to stay and continue with the service. The day combined extraordinary joy with a profound sense of resolve as we gathered again at 6 p.m. for the scheduled talk and closing service.

As the evening progressed, the gravity of the situation became clearer—Israel was engaged in conflict with Hamas in Gaza. Rabbi Silverman received a call from a colleague in Tel Aviv, sharing that a couple planning to marry the next day in Zichron Yaakov insisted on proceeding with their wedding. Inspired by the rabbinic teaching to not delay joyous occasions even in adversity, their decision underscored our community’s ability to find light amid darkness.

A Joyous Wedding Amidst Adversity

Rabbi Silverman and our congregation organized a beautiful wedding for the young couple the following day. Despite the conflict, the bride’s family and friends gathered at our small synagogue, and our community, spanning generations, joined in the celebration. As is customary at Jewish weddings, even strangers were welcomed to share joy. I was fortunate to capture these moments on video, and the family graciously allowed me to share these cherished memories.

 

Return to Jerusalem and Changing Realities

After the wedding celebration, reality set in as I returned to my Jerusalem apartment. The usually ninety-minute drive from Zichron Yaakov felt different this time. My phone buzzed continuously with updates from various WhatsApp groups, revealing rapidly changing circumstances. Discussions ranged from cancellations to preparations for what lay ahead. My pilates group was already planning the next class, striving to maintain normalcy amidst the chaos.

I had tickets for an eagerly awaited concert by Ishay Ribo, whose soulful interpretations of biblical texts resonate deeply with many, including me. Scheduled for October 8 at Jerusalem’s Binyanei HaUma, the concert was cancelled, along with many other events. While I felt disappointed, watching one of Ribo’s previous performances on YouTube brought some comfort, especially when he sang “Modeh Ani,” a prayer of gratitude for the new day.

Preparation and Community Response

Back in Jerusalem, we received government instructions to prepare for uncertain times ahead, including stocking up on water, food, flashlights, and transistor radios for our bomb shelters. My friend Sarah Kraft and I went to the mall to gather supplies. We faced an unexpected challenge when we found that transistor radios were in short supply, but a nearby cell phone shop had the last two radios available.

The sense of community was evident everywhere. People across Israel united to ensure that soldiers and civilians had essential resources. Some collected protective gear and ammunition, while others prepared meals for the 300,000 reservists called up on short notice. There was also abundant spiritual support, with groups organizing communal singing, dancing, and Torah classes, both in-person and online. “Tzitzit,” symbolic fringed garments, were crafted and offered to any soldier who wanted them, symbolizing a meaningful connection to our shared faith.

In my Jerusalem residence, we are fortunate to have a bomb shelter. However, Sarah, who lives in a building without one, faced a tough decision. We had to plan for an uncertain future. Despite having a pre-scheduled flight back to Montreal on October 12, all international flights from Tel Aviv were cancelled except those operated by El Al. After consulting my travel agent, I purchased an El Al ticket to Zurich, hoping Air Canada would honour my original ticket to Montreal. Before leaving, I entrusted Sarah with the keys to my apartment to access the shelter if needed.

Returning to Montreal

Returning to Montreal felt surreal. I was deeply grateful to be invited to my cousins’ home for dinner on Friday night, a comforting ritual that grounded me after such an intense week. I attended Shabbat services at my usual synagogue with Rabbi Poupko the following morning. The familiarity of the service was a balm to my soul, although it included an additional prayer for hostages and a moving rendition of Hatikvah, Israel’s national anthem. The words of Hatikvah, meaning “The Hope,” resonated with our ancient yearning for freedom and sovereignty in our homeland.

Reuniting with my community brought profound relief and joy. We shared our experiences and the challenges we faced since the conflict began. Many in our tight-knit community have family and friends in Israel, and some have connections to those who have tragically lost their lives.

That night, we began a new tradition—gathering weekly for an additional prayer service to recite Psalms/Tehillim. This cherished Jewish tradition provides comfort and strength during difficult times, and our community has embraced it wholeheartedly. We listen to comforting words from our rabbis and recite our designated psalms together.

“On that dark Shabbat of Simchat Torah, when our son went to war, I was overwhelmed with fear and sorrow. With no other way to cope, I cried and recited Tehillim from beginning to end until my tears dried. The Psalms echoed my anguish, giving voice to my fears. Just as Jews have prayed in times of distress throughout history, these prayers continue to speak to us today, guiding us towards redemption.”¹

Our rabbis and community leaders remind us of the importance of participating in meaningful actions through military service, support from home, or dedicated prayer. They encourage us to deepen our commitment to mitzvot, righteous actions, and sincere prayer.

Recently, rabbis in Israel called for a three-day communal fast inspired by the story of Queen Esther during Purim. This fast recalls a pivotal moment when Haman threatened the Jewish community in Shushan, now part of Iran. Before her crucial meeting with King Ahashverosh, Esther asked her people to join her in fasting for three days to seek guidance and support. This collective act highlights the strength found in community unity during challenging times.

On Sunday, October 15, we observed Rosh Chodesh, marking the start of a new month. A few years ago, women in Montreal began a unique tradition of holding an all-female Rosh Chodesh service. Whenever I’m in Montreal, I prioritize attending this gathering. This particular service was especially meaningful as we celebrated the Bat Mitzvah of a young girl turning 12—a significant milestone in Jewish life. Witnessing her recite the Torah portion with confidence was both inspiring and emotional. The celebration involved collaboration among her classmates, friends, and family, making it a memorable occasion.

How the Jewish Community Responds

Throughout history, the Jewish community has shown remarkable resilience and solidarity in adversity. In Montreal, the Federation CJA leads efforts to support those in need with an annual fundraising campaign that unites the community. This year, our focus shifted to raising urgent funds for the ongoing war effort, bringing us together in unprecedented ways.

Last week, I attended a fundraising concert featuring Montreal’s beloved Jewish entertainers, including Milena Kartowski’s breathtaking rendition of “Stand by Me,” which left a lasting impression on everyone present.

 

Our enduring traditions, commitment to Torah study, and alignment with Torah principles have been our foundation through prosperous and challenging times. This consistency in Jewish practice is crucial as we support Israel in its existential struggle for survival. Whether within or outside Israel, we are united in our pursuit of the common good, striving for the recovery of our captives and the elimination of threats to ensure our people’s safety.

A Prayer for Peace and Hope

Miracles happen when we confront evil with unwavering resolve. As individuals and as a community, we are called upon to contribute to the greater good. We pray earnestly for this day to come soon, swiftly, and in our lifetime.

Hazan Mutlu of Central Synagogue in NYC has recorded a prayer that resonates with those facing adversity, wherever they may be—on land or at sea:

“May the One who blessed our ancestors, Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob, bless and protect all who strive for peace and security in Israel and beyond. May the Almighty grant healing, strength, and comfort as we stand together in solidarity.”

In this spirit, we affirm the message of Am Yisrael Chai—the people of Israel live.


Footnote:

  1. Roth, Aharon. “Psalms for a State of Vertigo.” Tradition, 22 Sept. 2023, traditiononline.org/psalms-for-a-state-of-vertigo/.

Travelling to Israel: Tales of Serendipity and Human Connection

Embarking from Montreal to Jerusalem is more than just a physical experience; it’s profoundly emotional and spiritual. Travel has a way of unravelling the distance between places and the borders between people. As I touched down in Israel on March 2nd, 2023, from the bustling airplane cabin to the sacred streets of Jerusalem, my travels unfolded, weaving tales of serendipity and human connection. With every moment, I etched a chapter in the chronicles of my travel encounters,

The adventure began on the flight. I was seated beside a young Ukrainian man from Odesa, a city that has become synonymous with resilience in recent times. As he shared his story, I was struck by the sheer determination it took for him to navigate the challenges of obtaining a work transfer and crossing borders during such a tumultuous period. His visit to his cousins in Tel Aviv was more than just a family reunion; it was a testament to his spirit. As we shared the space of that airplane cabin, I realized how travel can compress time and space, bringing together people from different walks of life, each with their own unique journey.

Next to us sat a woman, deeply engrossed in a well-worn Bible. I couldn’t help but wonder about her story and what brought her on this journey. When she finally looked up, we struck up a conversation. She was from Switzerland, and her enthusiasm for experiencing the places mentioned in the Bible was infectious. I offered suggestions for her travels, excited to share a piece of the land I had come to know and love. By the end of our conversation, she had invited me to visit her in Switzerland. What started as a simple chat turned into a warm connection, leading to a shared meal in Jerusalem a week later—a reminder that sometimes, the most meaningful connections are those we never see coming.

On the communal Sherut taxi, I sat beside an American woman with a baby on her lap. She was returning from a wedding in Montreal, a city that suddenly felt much closer in the warmth of our shared experience. Her husband, a teacher at a Yeshiva in Jerusalem, was waiting for her, and I couldn’t help but feel a sense of camaraderie—two women connected by our ties to this city, yet from such different backgrounds.

On the other side was Orit Elgavi-Hershler, an Israeli neurobiologist and educator who had just published her book, “Neuropedagogia: Where Souls and Education Meet.”

Neuropedagogia Where souls and education meet

Neuropedagogia: Where souls and education meet

Her passion for her work, especially on the latest methods for addressing autism and schizophrenia, was palpable. We peppered her with questions, and I left that ride feeling richer for having met her, grateful for the serendipity that placed us in that taxi together.

But the most remarkable moment came when I stepped off the Sherut, burdened with two oversized suitcases and two hefty carry-ons. As I stood on the narrow sidewalk, trying to figure out my next move, a woman suddenly stopped her car and parked right in front of me. Without hesitation, she got out and offered to help with my luggage. It was such a simple gesture, but in that moment, it felt profound. The kindness catches you off guard, making you realize how deeply connected we all are, even to strangers. It was the perfect welcome to my new apartment in Jerusalem, a city that has always felt like a second home to me.

As I reflect on these moments—each unexpected, each filled with sincerity—I am reminded of why I love to travel. It’s not just about the destinations or the landscapes; it’s about the people we meet along the way and the connections that turn a journey into a story worth telling.