אוירא דארץ ישראל Avira DEretz Yisroel

It was during Pesach, right in the middle of the coronavirus outbreak, that we finalized our plan to move from Brooklyn to Eretz Yisroel. I asked a shailah if we were allowed to pack up for moving to Eretz Yisroel during Chol HaMoed; yes! was the encouraging p’sak, so we packed and prepared. The very next week we landed in Eretz Yisroel, going right into the fourteen-day mandated quarantine.

Living in Eretz Yisroel was something I had wanted to do for many years already, but the proper time apparently had not come yet – until now. As a Belzer chossid, I would come with my family every Tishrei to spend the Yomim Nora’im and Sukkos with the Belzer Rebbe in Yerushalayim, and would regularly ask about permanently relocating to Eretz Yisroel. I had now finally gotten the green light from the Rebbe to make the move.

We had two married children in the U.S. (they want to come too!), and one bochur already in Yerushalayim in a Belzer yeshivah gedoilah. We worked to prepare the four younger children for the move. We took them out one by one, to speak with them individually about the move and to reassure them that we would be there for them, offering our full support for helping them integrate. We explained that there would be many challenges on the road to integration that we would all have to tackle. As with anything we want to do, if we look at the obstacles as difficulties, they may seem to be depressing and insurmountable, but if we look at them as challenges, every step we take to overcome them can even be enjoyable and satisfying. I thought it was of utmost importance that we would all come with this positive attitude.

It was not only my kids who stood to benefit from this outlook. Although I was born in America, I had lived in Eretz Yisroel from the age of six until my own firstborn was six years old, and the subsequent eighteen years of living in America definitely rubbed off on me. This was also true for my wife, who grew up in Bnei Brak. There was now much that also we, the parents, would need to adjust or readjust to, from the differences in culture and mentality, to the technical operational differences such as different standard banking hours. Did you know that many government and financial institutions here close at 1:30 PM on most workdays?

Though there are of course many differences between life in Eretz Yisroel and America, the influx of Americans over the course of the last several years has had an impact on narrowing the gap in some neighborhoods, making it easier for newcomer Americans to acclimate. In my neighborhood, there are no stores that are not trying to attract American customers, some offering American-style service, even if they are not all doing it “right.” You can have a cleaning lady and other household help—even live here “American style”—and not be viewed as “different.”

One thing that is, for the most part, quite different, is the chinuch available here. Different things are emphasized. There is a stronger focus on ruchniyus, even while some schools here have the gashmiyus as well. Of course, the very basis of the private mosdos we Chareidim have opened in chutz laAretz is our desire for strong foundations in ruchniyus, but the surrounding atmosphere just isn’t the same. I felt that the chinuch they would get here would be a precious lifelong gift I wanted to give my children, and this became technically possible once I had the capability of easily running my U.S.-based business from Eretz Yisroel.

We came in the middle of the school year, but because the schools had somewhat of a restart when they were able to be reopened, my kids had a “fresh start” together with their Israeli counterparts in this new situation. My yeshivah ketanah-aged son noted that in his new yeshivah here, all the boys feel equally connected; the bochurim who are not as strong in their learning skills don’t feel that they’re looked down upon. It was originally suggested that one of my daughters would move down a grade to make it easier for her to cope with the changes, but she found that she was even a bit above her grade level and didn’t even need extra help. My wife, who in America had been volunteering for various causes, already started getting into volunteering over here. Boruch HaShem, everyone is happy here.

Although we did have a head-start at integration, being that we all spoke Hebrew at home (now we’re making a point of speaking English at home!) and were exposed a bit to life here from when we came every Tishrei, there are still some differences in mentality and culture that are new to us, some of which took a few weeks to even discern. We are sure though, that as we become more experienced, we will be more adept at getting along here.

Decades ago, people who came to Eretz Yisroel were challenged with building up the country from scratch. It was a difficult project, but people welcomed it as a challenge that generated excitement and a sense of satisfaction. Today, the primary challenge of newcomers is integration. Effort and success in this endeavor should generate a similar sense of satisfaction. I think there is work to be done here to make Eretz Yisroel more welcoming for newcomers, helping them take on the challenges of integration. To play on a recent American election slogan, we should work to “make Eretz Yisroel welcoming again.”

More Time for Initiatives

Running my U.S.-based businesses (property development and assets management, and a high-tech and programming business) during American working hours, leaves me with the ability to daven with more yishuv hada’as in the morning, with several hours spare for learning, chessed, or other activities. As it is common here to rest sometime between 2:00 to 4:00 in the afternoon (here’s another adjustment for Americans – “14:00 to 16:00” is more commonly used), I can start working after a refreshing nap. Although number-wise there is no real difference in the sum total hours of the day, I find that, for myself, less time gets wasted when the “extra” hours are at a time when nobody is just going to sleep to finish off their day, as was the case in America. Having Sundays off is another bonus for me, as Sunday is a regular workday here.

Holding an additional morning job may also be more possible when one of the jobs is in American hours. For example, I recently started an initiative for a prestigious living area for newcomers from the U.S. and Europe, and I am able to squeeze it into my schedule.

B”H, davening, learning, family and business fills my day, all avodas hakodesh in Eretz HaKodesh. It’s great to be back home!

R’ Chaim Leib Belsky, Ramat Eshkol, Yerushalayim

When we first came to Eretz Yisroel as a young couple, we did not give much thought to whether we “moved” here and to the possibility of “moving back.” We just saw ourselves as “living here.” This didn’t preclude us from moving back, but it did take our focus off the emotional issue of having left our familiar and comfortable place, and it allowed us to focus instead on “living” in the here and now.

One who moves from New York to Cleveland does not think too much about how long he will end up being in Cleveland. In this regard, our move to Eretz Yisroel was the same. We sought to ensure that our reasons for relocating should b’ezras HaShem work out, and we endeavored to establish a comfortable home here.

It would have been counterproductive to refrain from investing in the necessary arrangements to make ourselves comfortable. Why should we shlep all those personal items from back home if we were only here to try it out? But then, how would we ever have felt at home here if we had been conducting ourselves as if we were in a sleep-away-camp or bungalow colony, living out of the proverbial suitcase?

We did not plan to be in Eretz Yisroel: we planned for being in Eretz Yisroel. This meant taking the necessary steps to live comfortably. The Gemara (Kesuvos 112a) relates that R’ Ammi and R’ Assi would move from the sun to the shade and from the shade into the warm sunny area while teaching their talmidim. Rashi explains that they would move to the more comfortable spot so that they wouldn’t come to complain about living in Eretz Yisroel. They did not look to overcome the prohibition of speaking negatively about Eretz Yisroel by controlling their feelings; they ensured that they would not have anything to complain about.

It is not about giving Eretz Yisroel a chance to suit us: it’s about giving ourselves a chance to appreciate Eretz Yisroel. There are various jobs and other opportunities in Eretz Yisroel, and many of them require only a minimal effort or investment. We should also have a bit of faith in ourselves when trying to speak the local language, as most of us have a solid background in Lashon HaKodesh, and with a bit of practice, this will make our lives significantly easier (this goes for trying to understand the local mentalities as well). From our own experience, these adjustments for success have made a significant impact in enabling us to establish ourselves here in Eretz Yisroel.

Most significantly, to appreciate living in Eretz Yisroel we must educate ourselves a bit through the lens of the Torah. Moshe Rabbeinu davened five hundred and fifteen tefillos to merit entering Eretz Yisroel. Throughout our history, many anashim yereim u’sheleimim [righteous people] were moser nefesh [made sacrifices] to come to the Land and lived here besimchah despite much difficulty and hardship. HaShem Yisborach has thrown open the doors of Eretz Yisroel bechasdo hagadol (in His great kindness) and made living here infinitely more feasible than it has been since ancient times. Why is it that some people are not more open-minded about the opportunity to do what their ancestors would have been moser nefesh for, at a time when physical comforts are widely available here?

I am not minimizing the significant factors one must deal with in making such a move. I ask, though, do we identify with the ideals of our ancestors? Do we appreciate what it is that HaKadosh Baruch Hu so desires about this Land? Do we recognize the ruchniyusdik and halachic significance of living in the Holy Land? Do we appreciate walking, quite literally, in the footsteps of Avraham Avinu and Dovid HaMelech, where the pesukim of Torah come alive before us?

There is also much to say about the atmosphere in Eretz Yisroel. The reality of shavas vayinafash [HaShem’s “rest”] on Shabbos is significantly easier to sense and appreciate in Eretz Yisroel. The shuk (marketplace), teeming with people on Erev Shabbos, is quiet and empty before sunset. One can feel Shabbos or Yom Tov approaching from the very flow of traffic on the streets. The entire financial system, banks, and all, close down from Friday until Sunday. You know which Yom Tov is approaching for weeks or months beforehand just walking the streets or going into the shops. Shofaros are being blown at all hours of day and night during Elul, so too the sounds of sukkos being built from the beginning of Tishrei. On Sukkos itself, the streets and alleyways are filled with sukkos. Merchandise being sold in all stores varies accordingly in the weeks leading up to Chanukah, Tu BiShevat, Purim, Pesach, and Shavuos. You do not have to be an overly spiritual person to be affected by the kedushas hazman that can be felt in the air.

A final thought: As with any mitzvah or ma’alah ruchnis (spiritual virtue), the yetzer hara will make matters difficult. This is especially true regarding living in Eretz Yisroel where one can reach greater spiritual heights than in chutz laAretz. The avira deAr’a (air of the Land) promotes shteiging and a desire for greatness in Torah and avodah, and one can grow exponentially without the distractions of chutz laAretz. Also, people in Eretz Yisroel don’t seem to get old, only whiter. You can see seventy and eighty-year-old yungeleit going to beis medrash to learn with a frishkeit (freshness) and a lebedikeit (liveliness). This is truly the Eretz HaChaim.

Learning and Teaching

Though I spent some time in Eretz Yisroel when I was younger, I did not have the experience of learning in Eretz Yisroel as a bochur. I learned in Telshe Yeshiva Chicago for a couple of years and then in Yeshiva Rabbeinu Chaim Berlin until my wedding. I will never forget my first impression of the Mirrer Yeshiva when I first came to Yerushalayim as a yungerman—the overwhelming feeling of awe in a “neighborhood” of Torah. I learned subsequently in my grandfather’s kollelfor many years, and also had the opportunity to gain immeasurably from HaRav Yitzchok Berkowitz and HaRav Yechezkel Weinfeld. For the past ten years, I have had the privilege of learning and teaching in Yeshivas Tiferes Yisroel, a yeshivah for American bochurim.

Reprinted with permission from Avira D’Eretz Yisroel.

Yiddy Lebovits, Romema, Yerushalayim

I grew up in Williamsburg, Brooklyn, NY, and attended the Spinka and then the Satmar cheider there. While learning in Satmar, I learned first-hand their unbelievable quest to do chessed, collect tzedakah for others, and help people in need—a trait which makes Satmar shine in their own unique piece of the puzzle that is Am Yisroel. At the same time, I learned about their strict view on the concept of Eretz Yisroel in today’s age, lumping most positive aspects of Eretz Yisroel today under the blanket term of “Tzionus.” I even participated in many of the protests. Because of this upbringing, I lacked any connection to the Land and its history, including any yearning for it. The thought of living there never crossed my mind, unless a supernatural phenomenon would start happening. Then, we, the Satmar chassidim, would surely be allowed a front seat to the excitement of Moshiach, because we had it right and everyone else sadly bowed to the avodah zarah. So, I thought, until…

Twenty-three years ago, my wife, who had already been in Eretz Yisroel before, surprised me with tickets for a trip to Eretz Yisroel, and so I reluctantly agreed to travel. Ten hours into the flight, when the announcement came on board that we were landing in Ben Gurion Airport, I looked out the window and I heard my wife asking me “Are you crying?”

It was then, still on the tarmac, that I made a mental vow that I wanted to age in Eretz Yisroel—my home.

I once heard a well-respected person speak at an event; it was a fiery speech about the merits of shalom. I was blown-away, not because of the powerful content of his speech, but because this very chashuve person was then mired in a terrible brawl within his kehillah, and while the fire of machlokes burned around him, he felt very comfortable expounding on the topic of shalom. “How can that be?” I wondered. I then realized that for him and sadly for many others, shalom is an abstract concept that does not pertain to reality.

That is when I understood that the same is true when it comes to the idea of yishuv Eretz Yisroel for many in the Diaspora, especially in the Heimish community. True, they’ll daven three times a day about returning to Eretz Yisroel, say “boneh Yerushalaim,” and Moshiach will be mentioned here and there, but it will all be part of an abstract concept that one day, only when miracles will happen, will such a reality be feasible. To think of it as a current requirement—as a mitzvah in our times—is too scary to think about. It’s much more convenient to seek out those Gedolim who held that it’s not an obligatory mitzvah in today’s day and age. People who never adhere to the Satmar way of life and don’t follow any of the Satmar Rav, zt”l‘s, rulings in halachah, all of a sudden find it very easy and convenient to say “the Satmar Rav, zt”l, held that it’s not a mitzvah bazman hazeh.”

What’s really happening here? According to most Poskim, mitzvas yishuv Eretz Yisroel is shayach for every Jew in every time zone, and it doesn’t matter who the rulers of the Land are—the Turks, the British, or even the Zionists. The essence of the Land is not changing and the mitzvos hateluyos baAretz are still on. Like in any halachic disagreement, there are Gedolim that hold all kinds of opinions, all based on their view of the halachah. One shouldn’t be dismissed as a “Zionist” because he expresses a love for the Land and believes that a Yid must do what he can, to be oleh and live there.

After that initial trip, it took me twelve additional years of intense yearning, hoping, and praying, all while educating myself about Eretz Yisroel and filling up my hunger with as much as possible pertaining to our holy Land. I remember complaining to my father, the Nikolsburg Rebbe, shlita, that my yearning to live in Eretz Yisrael is becoming “erger in erger” [worse and worse]. He answered, don’t say worse, say “shterker in shterker” [stronger and stronger], noting the positive outlook of such yearning. Then, one memorable Shabbos afternoon, my wife announced, “Let’s do it!”…

We are now approaching our seventh year in Yerushalayim. Seeing the giant cranes filling up the skyline in Eretz Yisroel is living a prophecy. Our Neviim told us about this very moment—the rebuilding of Tzion. When I travel this remarkable and beautiful country, I see the foretold vineyards, wheat fields, and paved roads. The gemara in Bava Basra says that in the End of Days, so many Yidden will live in Yerushalayim, and the way all of them will fit in the city, will be through tall buildings of thirty to forty floors. This gemara gave me the shivers.

When I daven in a minyan that consists of Jews from Hungary, Poland, and Russia mixed with Jews from Iraq, Morocco, and Yemen, it makes my heart swell with joy, because I am seeing kibutz galuyos happening right in front of my eyes. Almost seven million Jews from over 137 countries—now, that’s what I call the real cholent, the Jewish melting pot.

Thank you, HaShem!

Sharing the Dream

One sefer that left a great impact on me was “Eim HaBanim Semeicha” by HaGaon Rav Yissachar Shlomo Teichtal, zt”l, hy”d. Every time I would go through a few pages of the sefer, in my thoughts, I would live in Eretz Yisrael like the Baal Shem Tov said (Keser Shem Tov 2:12), “Where the thought of a person reaches, there he is.” It left a strong impression on my dream of living in Eretz Yisroel.

Knowing that many of my friends would love to learn the sefer but that Yiddish is easier than Lashon HaKodesh for them, I decided to translate the sefer to Yiddish and release it in parts in the form of a weekly sheet called “Bishvilei HaAretz.” It is accompanied with collections from other seforim on the topic of Eretz Yisroel, as well as a small writeup on various locations in Eretz Yisroel.