Israel's youths are moved to prayer, and it is coming from deep within - opinion

Beyond the headlines: A weekly glimpse into the Israel you won’t read about in the news.

Prayer service for missing teens at Makor Chaim Yeshiva, June 15, 2014.  (photo credit: BEN HARTMAN)
Prayer service for missing teens at Makor Chaim Yeshiva, June 15, 2014.
(photo credit: BEN HARTMAN)

Consolation

Would you like to see prophecies of consolation coming true before your very eyes? 

We’ve been reading the haftarot of nechama—consolation–which describe Jerusalem awakening from her slumber and coming back to life; Jews who are distant, both physically and spiritually, coming home again; and the Jewish nation returning to God and to our proper place in the world.  

And then I received a moving video with the following note: “Shalom, it’s Rabbi Reuven Taragin from Yeshivat HaKotel. Fifty new students arrived this week! These young men from the UK, the US, and Canada have graduated from high school and instead of going straight to college have chosen to spend a year learning Torah in Jerusalem, even during a time of war.  

“From my own experience, I know that their Torah study and their encounters with the people in the Land of Israel this year will stay with them for the rest of their lives, and that many of them will ultimately decide to remain in Israel. Twenty graduates of our program are currently serving in the IDF.”  

Welcome to our dear brothers! In the end, all of our prophecies of consolation will come true.

 Jewish men pray during Tisha B'Av, at the Wall Western, in the Old City of Jerusalem, August 13, 2024 (credit: Chaim Goldberg/Flash90)
Jewish men pray during Tisha B'Av, at the Wall Western, in the Old City of Jerusalem, August 13, 2024 (credit: Chaim Goldberg/Flash90)

Our Youth Have Spoken 

I was just at the Western Wall for Selihot prayers. To my surprise, the majority of those attending these nightly services at the Western Wall, throughout Israel, and around the world are young people. I looked around, expecting to see the iconic elderly figure, the grandfather who would go from house to house, lantern in hand, knocking on doors and rousing people with the cry of, “Selihot, Selihot.” But that image is long gone. Now it’s his great-grandson summoning the public — not with a knock but through TikTok… 

Already, at the start of the Hebrew month of Elul, the winding streets of the Old City are overflowing, creating what looks like a human traffic jam! The women’s section is packed with young, enthusiastic girls. One was in the middle of asking me for a selfie when her friend gently whispered, “Not now in the middle of Selihot,” before returning to her heartfelt recitation of the ancient prayers. 

It’s worth noting that Selihot is not like Shabbat or kashrut; there is no obligation in Jewish law for young girls to be standing here at midnight, reciting ancient liturgical poems and holy words and pleading for mercy with tears in their eyes. This is simply a generation that loves our customs and is excited about our traditions and Jewish identity. Lifted by these words of consolation and hope, they leave with glowing faces.

There is no organization responsible for bringing these young people here from all over Israel. But clearly, something is happening here. Hearts are stirred, and it’s impossible to sleep.

Elul 5784. You’re invited, too.


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My Return to the Synagogue… and the Sidewalk

On Rosh Chodesh Elul, I arrived at the Hakippah synagogue in Be’er Sheva to deliver a lecture to a women’s group in memory of their member, Orit Weil, z”l.

The time and venue were particularly moving to me personally: As a young woman, I came here to “do Shabbat” for the very first time. Arriving here last week, I paused momentarily on the sidewalk at the synagogue entrance. I remember standing at this exact spot and feeling as if I had been privy to a tremendous secret. It was my first exposure to the Torah portion, Shabbat meals, and Torah learning. But it was something else that occurred after the prayer service that, for me, was truly life-changing.

 I was a young journalist and a real workaholic (okay, so that part hasn’t changed), and after the service, I remember watching as members of the congregation lingered on the sidewalk and stood in circles talking among themselves. I couldn’t understand what they were doing. Who were they waiting for? 

Finally, I decided to ask someone. The lovely girl hosting me explained: “We’re not waiting for anyone. It’s Shabbat.” Boom. Is there any day of the week when people stand around on the sidewalk, simply talking to one another, without glancing at their watches— I mean, cell phones?  When are we not rushing to get somewhere?  And even if we as individuals are able to set aside some time in our schedules for such one-on-one encounters, when is the entire community in “Shabbat mode”? When is the entire nation, in essence, the entire world, tuned in to this unique frequency?

Yes, I realize that there are probably more exciting stories about discovering the beauty and serenity of Shabbat. And the highlight of Shabbat is undoubtedly not “hanging out” outside a synagogue in Beersheba. Still, visiting this synagogue and seeing the sidewalk brought back what was, for me, a life-changing experience.

On Rosh Chodesh Elul, the appointed month for thinking about teshuva, returning, and charting a new course for ourselves, I had the privilege to return to the very place where it all began for me, this time as a teacher of Torah.

For passersby, this synagogue is probably nothing special. But in truth, it houses a force of tremendous spiritual energy, a revolutionary “startup” hidden among the housing projects. In 2024, people are still standing on this sidewalk once a week, looking other people in the eye, and paying attention to what they say, leaving behind all the noise, commotion, and distractions of the week.

My heartfelt thanks to Hakippah for hosting me this week and, even more, for hosting me on that unforgettable Shabbat many years ago.

Saying Goodbye to Hersh Goldberg-Polin

Thousands came to the funeral of Hersh Goldberg-Polin, who was murdered in captivity by Hamas.

“Hersh and Aner are now together forever,” Jon, the father of Hersh, said, referring to Aner Shapira, Hersh’s good friend, who was murdered on October 7.  “There is symbolism in the fact that we just finished saying Kaddish for Aner and today we begin saying Kadddish for Hersh. One year is not enough to sanctify the names of these special two young men. They deserve two consecutive years of Kaddish.” 

Jon continued: “When we told him at age seven that we would be making aliyah to Israel, we told him that the name Hersh could be challenging for Israelis. Maybe you want to become Tzvi, which has the same meaning (deer). But Hersh said confidently: “I am Hersh. Let the Israelis deal with that.” Ultimately, his name became famous throughout the world. Rachel and Jon did not bring him home, but Hersh entered the homes of millions everywhere.

And then Rachel spoke: “I want to thank God right now in front of all of you for giving me this magnificent present of my son Hersh. For 23 years, I was privileged to have the most stunning honor to be Hersh’s mama. I’ll take this moment to say thank you.”

Continuing, she turned to those in Israel and throughout the world who had been at her side: “I want to say thank you to the countless people in this entire extended community who have held us, cared for us, prayed for us, cooked for us, and carried us when we could not stand up. I am so thankful to you and I apologize deeply but now we’re going to need continued help to get through this new chapter too, and I beg of you all please don’t leave us now. You gave us so much for 11 months, and we gave you nothing in return.” It seems to me that anyone who heard this would say, “Rachel, this is not true. You gave us so much.”

Then she turned directly to Hersh. “I need to request your help. Our worry turns to grief. This is a new kind of pain; I beg you, Hersh, do what you can to have your light shine on me, on father, on Libi, and on Orly. Give us healing and resilience from above so we can rise again, so that God will bless us, and one day we will hear laughter, and we will turn around and see it’s us and that we’re okay. And you will always be with us as a source of love and vitality, you will become our superpower. 

“Sweet boy, go now on your journey. Finally, finally, finally, finally, you are free. I will love you and miss you every day for the rest of my life. I know you are right here in my heart, I know, I only need to teach myself to feel you in a different way.”

Condolences to the Goldberg-Polin family and all those who love them. Hersh was brought to rest when the new month of Elul, a month of rectification, positive change, introspection, and spiritual healing, was about to begin. The city of Jerusalem heard inspirational eulogies, fitting words for this month.

Translated by Yehoshua Siskin, Janine Muller Sherr

Want to read more by Sivan Rahav Meir? Visit sivanrahavmeir.com