I want to share some thoughts and feelings that I recently
had about the experience of making Aliyah, more specifically, the process of making Aliyah. My family is
moving to the land next summer and we are in the midst of preparing to begin
the next step of our lives, no easy task.
Ever since I returned from my pilot
trip in July our attention has been on navigating the process of entering the
job market in our current professions. My wife is a nurse and I am a teacher. Both
us need to transfer our licenses over to Israel. The process of transferring
our licenses and having our degrees recognized is to put it mildly, extremely
complicated. For instance, even though I have a Master’s degree from a
prestigious university, my Bachelor’s is quite problematic, due to the yeshiva
credits the college transferred in. The Ministry of Education may not even
recognize the degree due to the credits, which subsequently means they will not
recognize my masters either which would result in a pitiful teacher's salary
that for all practical purposes would mean I could not be a teacher in Israel.
Needless to say I have been hounding every person possible to determine if this
is indeed a problem for me. After weeks of contacting scores of people I have
found an answer, namely that there is none, it all depends on who is sitting
behind the counter at the ministry when I show up with the documents and
degrees.
The result of this conclusion is a state of flux, I have no concrete
reality in which to base any security on. You could only imagine the stress,
here I am, moving to a country 5,600 miles away where I can hardly get by with
the language, trying to make it and support a wife and two kids. But to be
honest the biggest fear I have is being forced to return to America, to leave
G-d, and abandon him, and be forced to come back to a land where I am a
"resident-stranger."
Oddly enough I have found my orientation, my bearings, I am
feel no hesitation in surging forward to my new home. In order to share with
you how I got to this point, and why it is so significant I think for anyone
who is making Aliyah or already has, I want to relate another
"conundrum" I am currently facing, as I think it is not of
coincidental nature. As I mentioned I am a teacher, I teach in the inner city of
Baltimore to a very difficult population, in a very difficult educational
environment. The educational environment of America today, in my humble
opinion, is extremely neurotic and unhealthy. Schools, principals, and even
teachers are hyper-focused on test scores and academics, leaving the more
intrinsic, internal, and subsequently spiritual needs of students to fall to
the wayside.
Most teachers battle the conflict of how to reach the students,
do what is right for them, and obtain a satisfactory evaluation at the same
time. I can't really explain why necessarily, but this year I feel a deep
calling to do what's right not for myself, not even for the students, but for
G-d. I feel a profound need to help the students become more solid people for
the sake of G-d, so that He may have his children redeemed and returned to him.
As such, walking into this school year I don't care about my evaluation, I
don't care if I get a good reference letter for Israel, I care to not let G-d
down and to ensure I meet His/my destiny. Funny how this is, the feeling of
forsaking my own welfare for G-d's, because this is how I view moving to
Israel.
How can I move to a place where I don't feel any sense of
financial security? Where my job possibly is topsy-turvy and where I can get no
solid grasp of the situation on the ground? It is because I am not moving for
myself. I am not moving to have some
sort of transcendent religious experience or awakening, I am moving because I
already have one.
I am moving for G-d. I am moving because G-d calls out from
behind the broken walls of Yerushalayim beckoning me not to leave him alone in
the ruins, to pull him out of the ashes of our history and to re-build, to
"make his name rest there" as we just read in the Parsha. What
happens to me, what becomes of me is not significant per se, it is only
significant in so far as it affects my ability/inability to fulfill the want of
G-d. This is what allows me the ability to overcome my fears and to leap into
the unknown stormy waters of the sea, neck deep in the tides, as our great
ancestor Nachshon did upon hearing the Egyptian army at his back. I am not
concerned or afraid for myself, because I am afraid for G-d.
As Rabbi
Soloveitchik points out in "Al Hateshuva", when one makes his fear
the fear of G-d all other fears fall away, when makes his allegiance to G-d all
other allegiances become secondary. As a result I walk away with a feeling
(most of the time) that I will be successful, I feel this way because I feel
that unlike Kayin, my offering is pure and G-d will not reject it, he will
allow my gift to be received and will allow me to continue to give to Him so
long as I leap with faith and everlasting commitment, so long as even the
waters at my neck do not discourage me, he will draw me near to satisfy Him.
Do not get me wrong, I suffer from tremendous bouts with
extreme doubt, but let me conclude with a recent event that occurred. I was
having Friday night Shabbat dinner with someone and was telling them of my
plans to shirk off the normal worries of a city schoolteacher. I told him that
I was a Jew first and a teacher second, that I had a duty to fulfill as Jew in
the world in a position of influences over children that trumped my role as an
academic instructor even at risk to my personal well-being in the pragmatic
sense. I was taken off guard by the response. He replied back to me, what does
being a Jew have to do with your role as a teacher, why would you put yourself
at risk, you may need the school administration for reference once you get to
Israel?! I couldn't help but to have doubt on my position, which perhaps I was
being too idealistic, too removed from the reality before my eyes and too
involved in the majestic and transcendent, perhaps my whole outlook was simply
an illusion?!
I want to tell you what I concluded. I have concluded that it
would be a sin (not in any dogmatic way, but as something that would keep me
further away from G-d's call). This urge, this calling to give to G-d for the sake
of G-d is no weak phenomenon. It is a powerful calling from the depths of my
being. There are times when we are unsure about a decision we need to make, and
this uncertainty often stems from our natural inability to see things with
perfect clarity. In such cases doubt, hesitation, and even the changing of mind
is certainly warranted. However, there are times when something is speaking to
us from within us, and this speaking is so powerful and real that if we were to
ignore it we would be violating the greatest sin of all, insensitivity,
deafness, to G-d's word and calling.
Sometimes something is so powerful so
forceful (in an autonomous manner) that it would be a tragic mistake, a sin
even to ignore it. What determines whether or not we should follow a certain
notion is not only the logical validity of such a choice or decision, but
sometimes the very thought and feeling determine its validity. Again, in Al
Hateshuva Rabbi Soloveitchik discusses the idea of the Gemara in Chagiga (16a)
that says "He who is not aware of the glory of his creator - it would have
been better that he had not come into the world.” Rabbi Soloveitchik mentions
the Gemara considers this to be a person who sees a rainbow for example and
does not see the glory of G-d within it, but merely views it in a mechanic and
scientific manner. That is to say, then when something screams at you the glory
of G-d, you have no right to ignore.
Similarly when G-d's mighty call screams
from the depths of one's own being we have no right to ignore it, no matter the
consequence that may face us. The Jew must live a life of considerations that
are "other-worldly," this is what it means to be a Jew, and to me,
this is what it means to journey to Israel.
Thank you for allowing me to share
my thoughts.