The Galil in Northern Israel with Lake Kinneret in the distance.
A friend of mine once made an unforgettable observation.
We were sitting on the hilltop at Neve Yerushalayim discussing our lives. She had already told me that her favorite food had been ham spread with apricot jelly. Her upbringing had been rabidly secular and Leftist. But she knew that three generations back, her family had been kosher Jews.
“Why me and not them?” she asked. “They must have wanted to come to Eretz Yisrael. People used to yearn and dream about coming. They were really frum without even half the aveiras I’ve done. So why did I merit to make aliyah and not them? It’s a huge privilege that I certainly don’t deserve. Yet Hashem gave it to me anyway. I have no right to complain about any difficulties I have in living here.”
Whoa.
I hadn’t thought of that. People used to come to Eretz Yisrael knowing that they’d be completely at the mercy of the Turkish authorities, knowing they would be firmly under the thumb of their Muslim neighbors, knowing that they probably would never have enough to eat. The Pele Yoetz (1824) strongly encourages aliyah throughout his book, but he cautions in his chapter on Eretz Yisrael:
We were sitting on the hilltop at Neve Yerushalayim discussing our lives. She had already told me that her favorite food had been ham spread with apricot jelly. Her upbringing had been rabidly secular and Leftist. But she knew that three generations back, her family had been kosher Jews.
“Why me and not them?” she asked. “They must have wanted to come to Eretz Yisrael. People used to yearn and dream about coming. They were really frum without even half the aveiras I’ve done. So why did I merit to make aliyah and not them? It’s a huge privilege that I certainly don’t deserve. Yet Hashem gave it to me anyway. I have no right to complain about any difficulties I have in living here.”
Whoa.
I hadn’t thought of that. People used to come to Eretz Yisrael knowing that they’d be completely at the mercy of the Turkish authorities, knowing they would be firmly under the thumb of their Muslim neighbors, knowing that they probably would never have enough to eat. The Pele Yoetz (1824) strongly encourages aliyah throughout his book, but he cautions in his chapter on Eretz Yisrael:
It is recommended that [a Jew] not go there until his older years when
his wife no longer experiences menses and will not give birth. He should not bring with him sons or daughters. If G-d granted him wealth, then he may bring with him a daughter who will eventually leave him. But, a son he should not take at all, for then there will be more children, and one does not know what each day will bring.
Commenting on the situation of the Jews in Israel, he goes on to say:
They live like chickens in a coop; they are not able to earn a living, and there is almost no one who has pity upon them.
That was over a century ago when Israel was still occupied by the corrupt Ottoman Empire and Yerushalayim residents were dependent on wells and easily sabotaged pipes for water. Olim arrived by boat and it took days over rocky roads to get to Yerushalayim.
Yet they came.
And can you imagine a life in Eretz Yisrael so unstable that it’s recommended to only go in your old age and not raise a family there?
Certainly, the Jews today of Har Nof, Efrat, and Ramat Eshkol are not living like “chickens in a coop.” And parnassah may be difficult, but I wouldn’t say that overall, Jews “are not able to earn a living.”
Yet Jews all over the world prayed and hoped to come.
Jews who kept Shabbat, received their meat from the local trusted butcher and knew how to kasher their own meat...poor Jews who were willing to share their last crust of bread with a needy guest and rich Jews who supported the town school and chessed societies...Jews for whom Hashem was part of the family and for whom davening was the obvious response to any problem...they yearned for the merit of coming to live in Eretz Yisrael.
But for the most part, they didn’t merit it.
And we did.
One of the truly gratifying aspects of living in Eretz Yisrael is that even in your worst, most depressing moments, you can still look at the window and remember where you are and how you don’t really deserve to be here, but in Hashem’s great Love for you, He brought you here anyway and though it’s not easy (and for our own spiritual benefit, not supposed to be easy), settling the Land is still easier and more feasible than it ever has been since the Destruction of the Beit Hamikdash, may it be rebuilt speedily in our days.
Yet they came.
And can you imagine a life in Eretz Yisrael so unstable that it’s recommended to only go in your old age and not raise a family there?
Certainly, the Jews today of Har Nof, Efrat, and Ramat Eshkol are not living like “chickens in a coop.” And parnassah may be difficult, but I wouldn’t say that overall, Jews “are not able to earn a living.”
Yet Jews all over the world prayed and hoped to come.
Jews who kept Shabbat, received their meat from the local trusted butcher and knew how to kasher their own meat...poor Jews who were willing to share their last crust of bread with a needy guest and rich Jews who supported the town school and chessed societies...Jews for whom Hashem was part of the family and for whom davening was the obvious response to any problem...they yearned for the merit of coming to live in Eretz Yisrael.
But for the most part, they didn’t merit it.
And we did.
One of the truly gratifying aspects of living in Eretz Yisrael is that even in your worst, most depressing moments, you can still look at the window and remember where you are and how you don’t really deserve to be here, but in Hashem’s great Love for you, He brought you here anyway and though it’s not easy (and for our own spiritual benefit, not supposed to be easy), settling the Land is still easier and more feasible than it ever has been since the Destruction of the Beit Hamikdash, may it be rebuilt speedily in our days.
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