Counteracting the Meraglim VI

Over the years, in the days leading up to Tisha B’Av, it’s become somewhat of an Our Shiputzim tradition* to discuss a different “antidote to the meraglim (the Spies)” – i.e. yet another wonderful aspect of life in our beautiful Land.

This year, this post practically wrote itself.

Because as our Sages famously taught, the Second Beit HaMikdash was destroyed due to sinat chinam (generally translated as “gratuitous hatred”), and thus, the ultimate antidote to the meraglim is the unprecedented sense of unity that has gripped every sector of Israeli society over the past 7.5 weeks.

We are united in our belief that Tzuk Eitan is a just, necessary, and unavoidable war, and in our knowledge that the IDF is the most moral, ethical, and humane army in the entire world.

We are united in our prayers and support for the brave soldiers and officers of the IDF, who not only risk and sacrifice their own lives to save ours, but who are also – both literally and figuratively - our sons, our daughters, our husbands, our brothers, our sisters, our neighbors, and our dear friends.

We are united in our concern for our beleaguered brothers and sisters in the South, who have spent the last 14 years (!!) living under enemy fire.

We are united in our bewilderment and anger toward those – including many of our self-professed "best friends EVER” – who consistently condemn us for imaginary atrocities while turning a blind eye toward our savage enemies, who cruelly target our civilians while deliberately endangering their own (i.e. a double war crime).

We are united in our outpouring of love for our wounded; in our grief and sorrow over the loss of so many of our best and brightest; and in our condolences to the bereaved families.

And most of all - as I wrote in my previous post - we are united in our awe and gratitude to HaKadosh Baruch Hu and His countless dedicated emissaries for all the goodness that He has bestowed and continues to bestow upon us.

That long list of emissaries includes the three special families: the Yifrachs, the Sha’ars, and the Fraenkels. Their nobility and strength inspired us, and their holy sons HY”D saved us – both physically and spiritually.

In fact, they can be compared to modern-day Esthers and Mordechais. They took a nation that was “מפוזר ומפורד” (“scattered and dispersed” - Esther 3:8) and brought everyone together on the path to salvation. (Esther commands Mordechai, “לך כנוס את כל היהודים” – “Go, assemble all the Jews.” - Esther 4:16)

For instance, a chareidi acquaintance told us that in his [exclusively chareidi] community, people couldn’t stop talking about the three families and their extraordinary emunah (faith). “My neighbors used to think that they had a lock on emunah,” he observed. “But now they all say that they’ve never seen anything even approaching emunah like this!”

Interestingly, the prime minister’s wife used the same word in reference to the wounded IDF soldiers and their families. The TV cameras caught Mrs. Netanyahu in the middle of a long day of visiting different hospitals, and she said that she was amazed at the soldiers’ emunah and their desire to return to their units to finish their missions.

Consider also the following:

• MK and Minister Silvan Shalom reported that when a siren interrupted a trade fair held at Tel Aviv’s port to boost southern Israel’s small businesses, thousands of Israelis spontaneously began singing, “Am Yisrael Chai!” (“The nation of Israel lives!”)
• On one of the first few days of the ground incursion, a reporter interviewed a mother visiting her wounded son. “I am not religious at all,” she insisted. “But now it’s the period of Bein HaMetzarim [i.e. the Three Weeks], and that means that it’s time for Am Yisrael to come together and to focus on that which unites us.”
• Channel 2 recently ran a segment on women whose husbands are serving in the reserves. When asked how she copes (she hasn’t seen her husband in weeks), a very secular-looking mother of several young children replied that her belief in God gets her through the day. “I speak to Him all the time,” she explained. “I speak to Him like a daughter speaks to her Father.”

An Israeli neighbor stopped by the other day. After comparing notes about our respective soldier sons, we started talking about the incredible achdut (unity) that we have been experiencing.

“It means that the Geulah (the Redemption) is finally on the way,” she declared. “It’s so close we can almost taste it!”

And so, I turn to you, our beloved family and friends in the Diaspora.

Please join us here in Israel, and come experience this achdut for yourself. Am Yisrael needs you here in Eretz Yisrael, and you need to become part of העם היושב בציון (the Nation that dwells in Tzion).

May we indeed be soon privileged to experience the Geulah, and may our eyes behold Hashem’s return to Tzion with mercy, speedily and in our days. Amen.

יה”ר שיבנה בית המקדש במהרה בימינו, אמן.

Have an easy and meaningful fast.

_________________

* Previous “antidote to the meraglim” posts include:

1. The annual Yemei Iyun B’Tanach in Gush Etzion

2. Shabbat in an Israeli maternity ward

3. A front row seat on our nation’s history

4. A country that revolves around the Jewish calendar

5. Rubbing shoulders with the country's movers and shakers

Assorted Blogbits

In lieu of a full-length post, here are several items of interest or note:

1) In a beautiful dvar Torah he delivered at a bar mitzvah this past Shabbat, YZG said that R’ Tzadok of Lublin explained that simchah (joy) is about optimism and our hope for the future. (For instance, the simchah of Adar is connected to the fact that Nissan – the month of Geulah (Redemption) - is right around the corner.) And on a related note, JPost has a wonderful piece about Israelis' rosy outlook on life.

2) The latest Haveil Havalim is available here. Special thanks to Esser Agaroth for including my post about religious soldiers and today's IDF.

3) Tis the season to, er, dust off the Our Shiputzim General Theory of Pesach Preparations. (IMNSHO, the best part of this plan is that there’s very little actual cleaning involved… :-))

4) Speaking of Pesach, a few years ago I observed that life in Bnei Brak continues to resemble the Haggadah. But as Rafi G. reports, Bnei Brak’s mayor thinks that it’s time for a change.

5) In an amazing take on the mitzvah of bikur cholim, students from the Jerusalem Academy of Music and Dance flash-waltzed Tchaikovsky's “Waltz of the Flowers” at Yerushalayim’s Hadassah Hospital:

6) And finally, did you know that Our Shiputzim updates are available on Facebook? Simply head on over to the Our Shiputzim FB page and click “Like.”

!בשורות טובות

Counteracting the meraglim II

Last year, in a post I referred to as an antidote to the meraglim, I discussed one of the many, many things I love about our wonderful Land: namely, the fact that Israel is a Jewish country. What follows is yet another example of this amazing phenomenon:

A Tale of Two Hospitals

In the comment section to my post on Israeli maternity wards, I reported that in the States, I gave birth in a Catholic hospital and added that:

“The hospital's logo - which included a cross - appeared on the hospital gowns, and each room had a small wooden crucifix on the wall.”

Now, as some of you know, one of the Shiputzim kids was born right before Christmas.

Unsurprisingly, this meant that the entire hospital was awash in trees and holiday decorations. In addition - despite my covered hair and YZG’s unmistakable kippah – many of the nurses kept gushing about our “lovely holiday present,” and at one point, I even found myself being serenaded by a group of carolers.

Fast forward to when our first sabra was born, and I was going to have to spend Shabbat in an (Israeli) hospital.

I was somewhat apprehensive about this, but as it turned out, I needn’t have worried.

On Friday afternoon, the staff placed a large table covered with Shabbat candles right outside the maternity dining room.

At first, I wondered why they had bothered setting up that many candles. After all, a significant portion of the women on the ward didn’t appear to be outwardly observant.

But sure enough, when the time came, almost every candle was lit.

Secular, traditional, national-religious, haredi – the divisive and meaningless labels faded away, and standing side by side, the new mothers welcomed the Shabbat as one.

And then, on Friday night – just as we were sitting down to eat - one of the mothers got up and announced that if anyone was interested, she was making kiddush.

Immediately, every. single. woman in the room rose to her feet and stood in respectful silence for the duration of the kiddush. And when it was over, everyone responded with a loud, heartfelt, and awe-inspiring “Amen”.

Words can’t do justice to that incredible, only-in-Israel moment.

However, I can tell you that as I wiped away a few not-so-surreptitious tears,  I looked around the room and noticed that many of the other women were similarly overcome by their emotions…

May this beautiful achdut (unity) become an everyday occurrence, and may we soon be privileged to witness the final Geulah (Redemption).

.יה”ר שיבנה בית המקדש במהרה בימינו

.אמן

Have an easy and meaningful fast.

_______

The latest Haveil Havalim is available here. Special thanks to Ima2Seven for including my visiting day post.

Return to 34th and Lex

Those of you who recognize the address in the title will be surprised to learn that this post is actually subtitled: “Life on an Israeli Maternity Ward”.

Let me explain. No, there is too much, let me sum up…

First, two caveats:

Caveat #1: My American experiences obviously pre-date our aliyah, and even my Israeli experiences aren’t very recent. (After all, BA”H, our “baby” isn’t exactly a baby anymore…) However, I can’t imagine that there have been any significant changes in the interim.

Caveat #2: This post is not about giving birth; it’s only about the postpartum period. However, I should note that the medical care I received in both countries was excellent and equally advanced.

Basically, two main issues distinguish Israeli maternity wards from their American counterparts:

1) Ambulation: In the States, the objective seems to be to let the new mother get some much needed rest. In contrast, here in Israel, the message is: You’re not sick; get out of bed. Obviously, if chas v’shalom anything is wrong, the mothers stay in bed. But, assuming that everything is fine, the mothers are encouraged to get up and walk around. For instance, as long as the mother is up to it, she goes to get her baby from the nursery (rather than waiting for the nurse to bring the baby to her). Also, in some (most?) Israeli hospitals, the new mothers go to a small private dining room to eat their meals. Only mothers who are non-ambulatory (e.g. after a C-section or within the first six hours after giving birth, etc.) receive their meals in bed.

2) Socialization: Unlike in America, Israeli maternity wards serve as postpartum support groups. Except for at night and – perhaps – during the traditional 2-4 PM rest hour, the curtains separating the beds remain open. By the time I left the hospital after each birth, I knew all kinds of personal things about my roommates. In contrast, in America, I barely knew my roommates’ names!

The net result was that when each of my “sabras” were born, I felt like I was back in Stern College (hence the title!) – with two notable differences:

• Instead of staying up late studying and comparing dating stories, my roommates and I stayed up late nursing and comparing birthing stories.
• Instead of saying things like, “Oh? Are you going to eat? Then please save me a seat in the caf.,” we said things like, “Oh? Are you going to eat? Then please save me a seat in the chadar ochel (dining room).”