Shabbat, Chag, Shabbat, Chag, Shabbat. If you want to do certain things — like, say, post online that you’re searching for a roommate, or promote an upcoming improv class, or even run a regularly-scheduled improv class — there are certain weeks where you just have to forget about it. Every day much of the population is either off social media and with family, or rushing to get everything ready because tomorrow they will be off social media and with family, and in either case they’re probably not thinking about anything other than holiday-related stuff.
And as long as you aren’t in urgent need to make massive changes in your life right now, that can be excellent. Jewish holidays are fun!
We just wrapped up Passover. I can’t believe I can eat bread again! Who wants bread, anyway? Passover was only seven days here, so when I called a friend in Toronto after it ended, he had another day and 7 hours left. So weird.
Not only do I get to celebrate the Jewish holidays I’m used to, but in Israel I also get to learn about other ones. So exciting! Let me share some with you.
Seudat Moshiach
The Ba’al Shem Tov, originator of the Chassidic movements, thought it would be a good idea, as we are escorting Pesach out, to have one last meal that’s set for the upcoming Moshiach. Now it’s not just a catchy song — it’s also a meal! Maimonides has 13 Principles of Faith, and one of them is, “I believe with perfect faith in the coming of the Moshiach, though he may tarry.” And it’s not enough to have this abstract concept that one day the lion will lie down with the lamb and all the world will be at peace. We need to feel that on a visceral level. We need to set the table and have a festive meal where we imagine that the Moshiach is about to walk in and join us. He’ll probably update us on how his flock of sheep are doing, and show us his blueprint for the Temple and assign each of us a task. (I’ll sing while people work!)
This meal is a concept I’ve never heard of before, though 100 years ago the Chabad Chassidic movement took it on with vigour. This year in Jerusalem, Chabad centres around town hosted big meals for Seudat Moshiach. People were invited to bring their remaining matzah and wine from Pesach (and were invited to take leftovers home.) It sounded like a big party, and the who’s who of my neighbourhood was there.
I, however, went to a different one. There’s a couple who hosts a weekly gathering in their apartment on Wednesday nights, with a meditation, a song, and a teaching. This week they decided to add a pot luck Seudat Moshiach to their usual offering. It was intimate, with only five of us, and extra spots were set so that we were definitely ready to receive the Moshiach at our meal (or anyone, really.) For each of us, it was the first time we had done this. The couple hosting did some research so that they could offer more insights into the occasion.
The wife is studying a method of therapy called Internal Family Systems (IFS.) The founder has a Jewish background (obviously) and speaks about the different parts that each person has, who want different things and “protect” the Self in different (sometimes destructive) ways. A word he uses a lot, which has particular resonance in Jewish perspective (especially in the Amidah prayer about “Ingathering of the Exiles,”) is the word “exile,” which in this case refers to all the parts of us we try to ignore and disown. That causes more internal hostility. The solution is to embrace those parts, comfort and heal the hurt, appreciate that they are trying to protect you, and then work together with that part to come up with a more conscious and helpful way to take care of yourself.
Her insights on the intersection of IFS and the Jewish world resonated well with me. Am Yisrael, the Jewish people, are described as one soul. There are “parts” of us that other “parts” want to “exile” — religious vs secular, left-wing vs right-wing, and so on. But we need to all work together, and listen to what each group of people cares about, and what they are trying to protect us from and how. With enough healing and listening and embracing each other and then working together… that will usher in the long-awaited Messianic Era.
Mimouna
This is a holiday specifically celebrated by the Moroccan Jewish community, now brought to Israel so that anyone can celebrate. After Pesach ends, as soon as we are able to eat risen dough again, people gather and eat sweets like mufletas, crepes with melted butter and honey. From my understanding, in Morocco, neighbours would go from house to house, eating food, blessing the hosts, and moving on to the next house with sweets. (Kinda like Halloween but if you stayed and ate the candy at each house.) Another aspect is that it was a joint party between Jews and Muslims, celebrating their neighbourly love of leavened foods.
The Knesset hosted a fancy Mimouna party, with an oud and other Morrocan musical delights. It seemed like something intended to bring some much-needed good vibes to that place. The country’s biggest Mimouna festival has been held in different places over the last few decades, and one event had 80,000 guests.
I was all ready to rock out. That is, until Wednesday night came. It was pouring rain — unusual, since Passover is “Chag Ha-Aviv,” the Festival of Spring, which means that it stops raining in Israel for six months. My friend came in from Bat Yam, and I told her to go and scope the place out before I mustered up the strength to go. But she got turned away by security. The article on the Knesset website boasting about this awesome party didn’t say whether or not it was open to the public. Probably she could have weaseled her way in, but she didn’t want to. So we each had a chill night in, and I visited her the next morning (she stayed in Jerusalem overnight.)
Thursday afternoon there was a Mimouna celebration at the community centre in Arnona/East Talpiot, and the community was definitely invited. They had a rack of beautiful Moroccan dresses and other items of clothing for people to wear. It felt weirdly touristy, but I must admit, the guys looked good in fezzes. There were long lines for the food that was being freshly prepared one at a time, including mufletas and double-deep-fried doughnuts. While waiting, I was excited to try one of the exotic-looking cookies. “Do you think those cookies came from Morocco, or [the local supermarket]?” my friend asked me. Way to burst my bubble.
Moroccan music was playing over the speakers, and some people were dancing. We met friends of his.
“What do you do?” the friend of his friend asked my friend.
“I’m a journalist,” my friend replied. He writes for The Jerusalem Post and Arutz Sheva and other publications.
“What about you?” she asked me. “Are you a journalist, too?”
“Yes,” I answered. I write for Dispatches from the Holy Land.
“What do you think of this party?” I asked him later.
“It’s rockin’,” he said.
“It’s Mo-rockin’,” I replied.
You are all welcome.
Counting the Omer
This one I am familiar with, and have been observing before coming to Israel. Every day from the second night of Pesach until the upcoming holiday of Shavuot, we count the day — 49 days, that is seven weeks. This year I’m reading along with a popular book recently written by a local, Rav Benji Elson - Dance of the Omer. It has a long introduction which gets into Kabbalistic correspondences, and every day there’s a meditation. Today we started the second week, so it’s Chesed sh’b’Gevura. (Open flow of loving-kindness within boundaries.)
…And a Little Tragedy to Round Things Off
Last Friday, a beloved family that has been very involved with education and generosity was heading somewhere in two cars. At point blank, a terrorist shot everyone in one car — a mother and her two daughters. This country is in mourning for everyone who has been killed in terrorist attacks these last few weeks, as Iran has misinterpreted a huge internal struggle over judicial reforms for weakness in morale, and is mistakenly funding and fueling attacks from Syria, Lebanon, Gaza, and pumping up terrorist fervour amongst Arab Israelis and Palestinians. Please pray for us all. (If you want to get realtime updates on security/politics/health/etc. in Israel, follow Israel Realitime Updates on Telegram or WhatsApp.)
Because of the particular impact of the Dee family on so many Israelis, pictures and words are flying around the chat groups with ways to spread light in their honour. Since lockdowns began, the family has been studying Pirkei Avot every Friday night after Shabbat dinner. Rabbi Leo invites everyone into the Pirkei Avot Project, to lift up the souls of his wife Lucy and daughters Maia and Rina, aged 20 and 16. After dinner on Friday nights, study a few chapters (or even a few words) of Pirkei Avot.
I’m into that. This is an amazing book, full of great pithy quotes, such as: “Who is wise? One who learns from every person … Who is strong? One who subdues his personal inclination … Who is rich? One who is happy with his lot … Who is honoured? One who honours others.” (Ethics of the Fathers 4:1) I love that stuff. (There’s even an illustrated edition.)
Shabbat shalom!