Achdus 2.0- My attempt to get real with achdut

It is difficult to admit that I have not been honest with myself. For a long time, I have spoken about achdus/achdut, Jewish unity. I have written about it, made efforts to pursue it and thought I was really living it, despite occasional objections from friends. When I read the op-ed by Rabbi Zev Shendalov, about his being menachem avel (making a shiva-call) to the Walles family, after the murder of Avraham Walles z”l H’YD by a terrorist, I realized I’d been lying to myself. I finally came to realize that my efforts at creating unity, and connecting with those from other worlds, only went in one direction. I was comfortable speaking at a Reform Temple, being part of a non-halachic (pre-Shabbos) Kabbalat Shabbat, and attending a non-denominational Beit Midrash, but I made no effort to connect with the charedi (yeshiva and chassidish) world.

As I thought about the Walles family, I was filled with shame. When Naftali Fraenkel, Eyal Yifrach and Gilad Sheer z”l H’YD were murdered, I was devastated. I attended Eyal’s funeral, and was menachem avel at the Fraenkel home. These were my people. They lived in communities with which I identified, came from the “right” camp and lived in places where I could imagine living. I felt a visceral need to connect and offer at least some comfort.

When Avraham Walles was murdered, I felt sad, but had no thought of being menachem avel. After all, he was a Toldos Ahron chossid. Toldos Ahron are strongly anti-Zionist, and insular, even by the standards of Meah Shearim. Like Shendalov, I had very rarely been off the main street of that charedi neighborhood. Walles was different from me and had an approach to Judaism that made me very uncomfortable. More to the point, it’s not just Toldos Ahron that makes me uncomfortable. The charedi world with which I once felt a stronger connection, no longer speaks to me. More than that, some its values and approaches bother me greatly.

Shendalov’s op-ed hit me like a ton of bricks. I recognized that my disconnect from the charedi world had crossed from disagreement to something far more insidious. I realized how I had ignored the very real connection that Walles, his family and I, share. We are Jews. Period. Avraham was killed in an act of terror. End of story. A true attempt at achdut needs to go in both directions.

On Friday, I started to make things right. I left Rechov Meah Shearim, and went to the Walles home. I gave a small donation to help the orphans and widow, and sat with Walles’ father and brothers. I felt like crying. Just as I was pained when I heard Eyal Yifrach’s father sing “Tefillah L’Ani” at the funeral, and was filled with sadness when I met the Fraenkels, the thought of a father (and mother)  losing a son devastated me.

I don’t know whether my visit and meager words gave the Walles family any comfort. I know that I have finally begun to take achdus seriously. Friday was just the beginning.

Building a Common Home- a hopeful close to Tisha B'Av

About 15 of us sat in a circle listening to a thought-provoking presentation. Although I was the only non-Israeli, I was not the one who stood out the most in the group. That distinction would have to go Shmuel Pappenheim, a Toldos Ahron chassid. Toldos Ahron, for those who don't know, is staunchly anti-Zionist, and one of the more insular chassidic communities in Israel. Not only was Pappenheim a participant, but he was the one leading the session for a mixed group of dati, mesorati, and chiloni Jews, on the topic of building one's home into a mikdash mi'at, a figurative miniature version of the Beit HaMikdash. This session was part of a Tisha B'Av event sponsored by Reshut HaRabim, an Israeli organization which is trying to promote openness, dialogue and unity among the Jewish community of Jerusalem, as well as Gesher and the Hartman Institute.

After Pappenheim finished his presentation which included quotes from the Chasam Sofer, Seforno, Shelah and Rav Shimshon Rephael Hirsch, a spirited but warm conversation ensued. Among the topics discussed were a film about a chiloni couple where the husband became a ba'al teshuva, that had been shown before the session, Pappenheim's personal background, the challenges faced by families when one member becomes more or less religious than the rest of the family, and the changes that are being faced by the charedi community. Throughout the discussion, Pappenheim was open, engaging, introspective and thought-provoking. Not once did he appear uncomfortable, whether speaking with women who were dressed in a decidedly non-chassidic matter, or being asked about how his Yekish family became chassidic. He discussed his non-chassidic grandmother, whose open-minded personality and home opened Pappenheim up to a more open approach to the world. He undid a lot of stereotypes, and taught us about a community that none of us had previously understood.

I can't think of a better way to have ended Tisha B'Av. It is one thing to speak of achdus and ahavat chinam, it is entirely something else to see it in action, and be a part of it. As I led maariv on a porch looking out onto the Old City, I was filled with hope. Hope that the unity that I and others witnessed this summer, was not just an aberration caused by the war, but was the beginning of something bigger. Hope that after too many years of divisiveness, we are finally beginning to join together as one.