When I was a rebellious teenager, holy to me, meant cutting holes into my
clothing to defy the institution of being proper. As I have matured and
grown, my understanding, needless to say has changed rather drastically. Over the last 10 years I have become more involved in my Jewish heritage and have spent time asking questions and investigating our very long history.
The concept of a holy person, a tzaddik, always seemed to me some far away individual with whom I somehow always struggled to identify. I grew up in a secular world, where a person’s value is determined by the service they offer to the world, and how much society is willing to pay for that service. So, this idea of each individual having intrinsic value as a human being, bound by a holy mission to serve God and fulfill a granted potential seemed rather foreign.
Especially, the service part. Being a proud and well defined rebel, the last
thing I wanted was to serve. Until, with shocked resignation, I understood,
that I was indeed serving---serving my own desires for whatever I wanted,
that is…
This past Shabbat I heard a woman speak. She is a holy woman. I was so moved by her words, her challenges, and her strength that it inspired me to
improve my own level of service and to strive to live a more holy life.
The Jews were singled out to be an “am kadosh - a holy nation.”
I’d like to explore what that means.
The dictionary definitions are:
dedicated to religious use; belonging to or coming from God; consecrated;
sacred
spiritually perfect or pure; untainted by evil or sin; sinless; saintly
regarded with or deserving deep respect, awe, reverence, or adoration
The holy woman I mentioned is Rivka Namir, a mother of 12 and pregnant with her 10th at the time she was expelled from her home in Gush Katif. She
described her family’s complete belief that somehow against all rationale,
they would not be removed from their home. After surviving the fall of 6000
missiles, and truly living a miraculous existence, I could understand their
faith. My heart broke when I heard how her husband greeted the soldiers in his military uniform and handed his medal of honor to the commander of the
same army who was now evicting him.
The Israeli government had sent in their army, the IDF (the *Israeli Defence
Force*), whose stated mission is the protection of Israel's citizens. On
that day, its goal changed radically. It was now forcibly removing its most nationalistic and loyal compatriots from land historically belonging to the Jewish people. The Namir family, along with hundreds of other Jews who had settled Gush Katif and built it up to a near paradise, were now being forced to leave.
Rivka explained to us that nothing can happen in this world without Hashem willing it from above. She said she could ask lama - why, but instead she learnt to ask leh mah - for what can I learn from this? Losing her home and all of her possessions, having her children completely uprooted, and losing faith in the government that had promised to protect her…what did she have left? She shared that it took her over a year before she was able to honestly give thanks to the Creator. She poignantly described how, once the expulsion occurred, she had to make peace with the fact that this was the Will of God and to somehow find the good in it.
She says she knows now what the destruction of the Holy Temple must have *felt* like. Not just intellectually, but in her heart. Her prayers and desire for the Messiach are more genuine now. Her kids joking around that they no longer have to do their homework as they no longer have a home, shows the uncanny ability of this family to decide to be, exactly as the dictionary definition describes:
dedicated to religious use; belonging to or coming from God
The practice they took upon themselves to write down, each day, 10 things for which to praise God, encouraged each family member to be grateful for everything in their lives, even in the most trying of circumstances. She spoke with peace and calm and joy about her dedication to serve God in this world and accept His Will.
200 families from Gush Katif have now settled (still in caravans) on the
yeshuv of Yad Binyamin. Their presence there has affected the entire
community. They inspire all who come into contact with them, by their
hope, joy in service and love of the Almighty.
What could possibly be more holy?
clothing to defy the institution of being proper. As I have matured and
grown, my understanding, needless to say has changed rather drastically. Over the last 10 years I have become more involved in my Jewish heritage and have spent time asking questions and investigating our very long history.
The concept of a holy person, a tzaddik, always seemed to me some far away individual with whom I somehow always struggled to identify. I grew up in a secular world, where a person’s value is determined by the service they offer to the world, and how much society is willing to pay for that service. So, this idea of each individual having intrinsic value as a human being, bound by a holy mission to serve God and fulfill a granted potential seemed rather foreign.
Especially, the service part. Being a proud and well defined rebel, the last
thing I wanted was to serve. Until, with shocked resignation, I understood,
that I was indeed serving---serving my own desires for whatever I wanted,
that is…
This past Shabbat I heard a woman speak. She is a holy woman. I was so moved by her words, her challenges, and her strength that it inspired me to
improve my own level of service and to strive to live a more holy life.
The Jews were singled out to be an “am kadosh - a holy nation.”
I’d like to explore what that means.
The dictionary definitions are:
dedicated to religious use; belonging to or coming from God; consecrated;
sacred
spiritually perfect or pure; untainted by evil or sin; sinless; saintly
regarded with or deserving deep respect, awe, reverence, or adoration
The holy woman I mentioned is Rivka Namir, a mother of 12 and pregnant with her 10th at the time she was expelled from her home in Gush Katif. She
described her family’s complete belief that somehow against all rationale,
they would not be removed from their home. After surviving the fall of 6000
missiles, and truly living a miraculous existence, I could understand their
faith. My heart broke when I heard how her husband greeted the soldiers in his military uniform and handed his medal of honor to the commander of the
same army who was now evicting him.
The Israeli government had sent in their army, the IDF (the *Israeli Defence
Force*), whose stated mission is the protection of Israel's citizens. On
that day, its goal changed radically. It was now forcibly removing its most nationalistic and loyal compatriots from land historically belonging to the Jewish people. The Namir family, along with hundreds of other Jews who had settled Gush Katif and built it up to a near paradise, were now being forced to leave.
Rivka explained to us that nothing can happen in this world without Hashem willing it from above. She said she could ask lama - why, but instead she learnt to ask leh mah - for what can I learn from this? Losing her home and all of her possessions, having her children completely uprooted, and losing faith in the government that had promised to protect her…what did she have left? She shared that it took her over a year before she was able to honestly give thanks to the Creator. She poignantly described how, once the expulsion occurred, she had to make peace with the fact that this was the Will of God and to somehow find the good in it.
She says she knows now what the destruction of the Holy Temple must have *felt* like. Not just intellectually, but in her heart. Her prayers and desire for the Messiach are more genuine now. Her kids joking around that they no longer have to do their homework as they no longer have a home, shows the uncanny ability of this family to decide to be, exactly as the dictionary definition describes:
dedicated to religious use; belonging to or coming from God
The practice they took upon themselves to write down, each day, 10 things for which to praise God, encouraged each family member to be grateful for everything in their lives, even in the most trying of circumstances. She spoke with peace and calm and joy about her dedication to serve God in this world and accept His Will.
200 families from Gush Katif have now settled (still in caravans) on the
yeshuv of Yad Binyamin. Their presence there has affected the entire
community. They inspire all who come into contact with them, by their
hope, joy in service and love of the Almighty.
What could possibly be more holy?
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