A summary of events follows (the REAL events, not El Al’s fairy tale of the monstrous penguins)...
 
Here are 4 eyewitness testimonies:

What Really Happened on Flight 002
Yaakov "Ketzaleh" Katz is an Israeli hero.

​While I’m not one of his voters (he’s in the religious Zionist camp while I’m in the charedi one), I have profound respect for the kind of Jew who, as he’s lying wounded on the battleground and almost completely split in two, cares only for his secular comrade’s spiritual progress.
 
(Please see HERE for that whole story.)
 
That’s my kind of Jew!
 
And I’ll certainly believe him over El Al’s Facebook page any day.
 
A Few Thoughts From a Passenger on El Al Flight 002
A very level-headed & convincing account of events.

FIRST PERSON ACCOUNT: El Al Fiasco Ends in Display of Achdus, Kiddush Hashem on Shabbos in Athens
​I think his point about it all maybe being Hashem's way of getting funding for a mikveh is a good one.
 
El-Al Sponsered Shabbos of Unity (also an eyewitness report)
Omigosh, you mean it was some secular people yelling at some of the shomrei Shabbat, and not the other way around?
 
Could it be? But secular Israelis NEVER raise their voice to one another. Hmm…I’ll have to get back to you on this one. (Just kidding.)
 
No, but seriously. It seems that regardless of the passenger’s religious observance, nearly all the Jews on the plane were behaving with achdut and helpfulness.
 
And as many others pointed out, it wasn’t a secular-religious issue as portrayed in the media.
 
I totally agree with Ben Chafetz, that the fiasco could’ve been reported in a very positive way -- to El-Al's benefit.
 
From a religious point of view, it was more of a success than a failure (although I'm very sorry for the inconvenience & stress everyone experienced before & after this amazing Shabbat):
​

• Dozens of different types of Jews being mosser nefesh for Shabbat.
• Wonderful achdus and achvah.
• Monstrous penguins—oops! I mean charedim—and other types of religious Jews sharing their mehadrin meals with their secular brothers and sisters who didn’t receive any food at all.
• Chabad does it again! With only a few hours to prepare for hundreds of people in all different situations (mothers with small children, Chassidic businessmen, rabbis, people with medical issues, etc.), the Hendels merited enormous success & blessing.
• All culminating in an unforgettable Shabbat and a particularly stunning kiddush Hashem.

 
After reading this, I actually felt bad for the committed Sabbath-transgressors who went on to catch another flight on a different airline for Shabbat.

For sure, the frum Jews enjoyed their weekend much more on both the physical and the spiritual levels.

May we all merit to join together in such achdut & chessed around a mitzvah.

​One morning, I was davening as usual. But between prayers, I would drift off into daydreaming.
 
Wasting that time meant that davening stretched a lot longer than necessary—and for no good reason.
 
Furthermore, I knew that for Shemoneh Esrei (the Standing Silent Prayer), I needed to change into more appropriate clothes.
 
One should daven Shemoneh Esrei dressed as one would to open the door to someone—and not in a nightgown (albeit a very tsnius nightgown).
 
So I consciously realized that I needed to change, but decided to daven Shemoneh Esrei anyway because I didn’t feel like wasting any more time and to just jump into Shemoneh Esrei.
 
I just started Shemoneh Esrei when the phone rang.
 
How frustrating! If only I’d gotten a rein on my daydreaming before, I’d have davened surrounded by quiet and be finished already, able to answer—rather than trying to daven while distracted by the phone.
 
A minute after the phone stopped ringing, I heard a knock on the door—more distraction. Was it connected to the ringing phone?
 
And I still couldn’t answer.
 
Yet because in Eretz Yisrael, most Jews feel like family with each other, my dear beloved brother the postman opened the door a crack and said, “Oops, sorry,” laid a package on the cabinet near the door, then closed the door and left.
 
I admit it caused me a fit of giggles as I stood before my Creator.
 
It also caused me strong feelings of shame as a strange man saw me in my nightgown (although there wasn’t anything to see because it’s very modest, but still; it’s not appropriate).
 
What was Hashem trying to tell me?
 
It wasn’t hard to figure out.
 
Number 1:
Had I focused on davening with zerizut (not davening fast, but commit to davening without getting distracted between sections), I would’ve been able to daven in peace and then able to answer the phone and the door.
 
Hashem gave me the quiet space in which to daven, but I didn’t make good use of His Generosity.
 
Number 2:
​I really need to be dressed appropriately—at least how I would dress to answer the door—when I’m davening Shemoneh Esrei. Had I been dressed appropriately, I never would’ve been embarrassed or ashamed when being seen by my dear beloved brother the postman.
 
So I’ve been trying to apply these newfound lessons to my morning davening...

​...except for the times when I forget. ;-)

Recently, a 22-year-old Arab construction worker was killed on site in Beit Shemesh when a construction digger fell on him.

(The digger was held up on supports and the worker had gone down to check the pipes to make sure the pipes hadn't been damaged by the digging. Unfortunately, the workers hadn't secured the supports properly. Furthermore, for extra safety precaution, the worker should not have gone under the digger, but waited until the digger backed up out of harm's way.)

My 21-year-old son happened to be there at the time. (He doesn't know CPR or first aid, so he couldn't help, but the event inspired him to start looking into a course to become a paramedic so he wouldn't need to stand by uselessly if in that situation again, chas v'shalom.)

And this is what my son said happened:

Immediately, the driver moved the digger up off the injured and moved back. Two other Arab workers jumped down into the pit to help the wounded worker. Those 2 were from the same village as the injured and were also his cousins.

The rest of his co-coreligionists whipped out their smartphones and started filming.

(Apparently, poor impoverished persecuted people always have access to the latest technology. And also reliable Internet service.)

Working nearby was an FFB Breslover chassid from Bnei Brak (one of the most despised communities among Israeli Leftists). He rushed to the scene and also jumped into the pit to apply first-aid (something the 2 cousins did not know how to do, so they were standing there crying and shouting helplessly).

Upon seeing that he could not help the injured in such a narrow space, he had the 2 cousins hoist the injured out of the pit.

Now the Breslover started working in earnest on the injured Arab.

This was not easy because, without going into detail, the victim was a mess. He was still alive at this point, but blessedly unconscious. In short, the Breslover ended up with blood all over his bare unprotected hands in an effort to clear breathing space for the victim.

My son also had his smartphone with him, but felt it would be in bad taste to film the event, both because it seems callous to simply film someone's gory dying moments and also callous to treat it like an Instagram-moment when the distraught cousins were right there. (Wouldn't that make the cousins feel even worse?)

However, the other workers did not feel the same and kept their smartphone-cameras centered on the goings-on. They didn't even daven (except for the 2 cousins, of course). Nor did they do teshuvah over not building the supports securely.

O, the glorious display of ahavas Yishmael!

Good thing there was a Breslover chassid around when they needed one.

Anyway, Magen David Adom and Hatzalah arrived, and they worked and worked over the victim. 

The Magen David Adom paramedics were all Jews -- wearing kippahs, mostly. And of course, the Hatzalah guys consisted of the much-despised chassidish chareidi Jews. Also, the Hatzalah guys are volunteers -- meaning, they don't get paid to work in gore and save lives.

Anyway, my son remarked at how impressed he was by the dedication of the MDA and Hatzalah guys. He said they used everything they had to restore the young man back to life and didn't give up on the Arab construction worker until the fatal truth became impossible to deny. Even 20 minutes after everyone was sure he was dead, they kept pumping the blood out of his lungs and doing everything they could to revive him.

Despite the fact that surveys consistently show that at least half of the Mohammedans in Eretz Yisrael are okay with suicide bombing attacks against Jews and other problematic notions, these Jewish (including the much maligned chassidic) paramedics gave everything they had to revive this young Muslim construction worker.

His distraught cousins started crying out "Allahu akhbar!" in their grief.

And the rest uploaded their brand-new video clip to YouTube.

(I'm not joking. My son saw it himself.)

I'm not reporting this to convince anyone who doesn't already know how great Jews -- particularly religious Jews -- are (yes, even with all our wonky faults).

People who hate frummies or Israelis or themselves can't be convinced. 

(I believe that's why some genuinely intelligent Jews -- like the last Lubavitcher Rebbe -- emphasized the need for blanket insistence on our refusal to give up Land, etc., and not try to convince, per se. Just to stand unyielding. Because even the most compelling truth just sounds like a bunch of blah-blah to the close-minded.)  

So I very much believe in preaching to the choir and that's it.

Because the frum community (with a few exceptions) is so self-critical, it's important to remind ourselves that for all our flaws and for everything that's wrong with us, we are still full of zechuyot like a large juicy pomegranate.

​So if you are a frummie (Torah-observant Jew), a wannabe frummie, or a non-Jewish pro-frummie, this post is for you.

And with that, this post will now take a couple of dips into irony...

(I have to state that outright because, somehow, humor -- especially satire and irony -- gets totally lost on the Internet. Maybe it's abducted by aliens.)

It's worth noting: None of the chassidish Hatzalah paramedics nor the FFB Breslover from Bnei Brak ever served in the army.

Yet they clearly aren't "parasites."

(Nor are they apparently racists or self-serving religious fanatics.)

Sure, an Israeli politician who served as "a correspondent" in the IDF and sat around ruminating over whether a verb should be written as "nifal" or "hufal" and did absolutely nothing of use to the actual military...he can write off committed Jews as "parasites" and insist that they perform "army service" instead of Torah learning (even if they NEVER contribute to actual combat or defense, and are one of the hundreds of "soldiers" who contribute absolutely nothing, militarily speaking, and sit around in air-conditioned bases all day watching American cable TV -- I'm not kidding).

Curiously, learning Torah in a yeshivah is a serious problem that apparently threatens Israel's existence and -- even worse in the eyes of Leftists -- Israel's social fabric, but spending your "military" service on a base texting and watching TV is the pinnacle of social and national contribution.

Hmm...

I mean, if we were talking ACTUAL combat soldiers and other ESSENTIAL military roles, that would be one thing.

But that's not the debate among the "Mandatory-Draft-For-ALL" extremists.

​According to military recruit extremists, all Israeli citizens MUST "serve" in the IDF -- even if they do absolutely nothing and only serve every other week (AKA "shavua-shavua") -- otherwise they are "parasites" and not "carrying their equal share of the burden."

And yes, I realize the above politician claims to have served in the armored corps at one point (despite conflicting reports to the contrary), but my point is that he keeps referring to his stint in B'Machaneh (In the Camp) as ARMY service -- as if!

And he thinks EVERYONE must do such "army service."

Just as another example of what non-essential army service is like:

One December a couple of years back during my son's service in the IDF, my son's roommates were non-Jewish Ukrainians who decorated their shared room with shiny colored tinsel & sang with gusto, "We wish you a merry...!"

Of course, you can imagine the great Yiddishe nachas I experienced at hearing that, especially knowing my son was serving in the only Jewish army in the world. So geshmak, let me tell you.

I don't know how savage terrorists respond to robust Ukrainian caroling, but I suppose "Santa Claus is coming to town" could be done in a menacing manner, if sung just right...

But I'll leave it up to B'Machaneh's 1983 correspondent to work that out.

You should also know that according to mandatory-draft-for-all radicals, these caroling Ukrainians are the REAL Israeli citizens who "carry their equal share of the burden" (they watched Friends while wearing authentic IDF uniforms!), while charedim are parasites who do not "carry their equal share of the burden." 

And the guy who penned propaganda pieces for B'Machaneh and later went on to perfect his best imitation of Netanyahu's I'm-Serious-and-Focused-You-Can-Trust-Me one-eyebrow-arch: He considered his military service "contribution" as having "carried his equal share of the burden."

​Mamesh.

But seriously...do you feel safer now?

I mean, now that you know there are caroling Ukrainians who only serve every other week in a position that entails watching TV most of the time, do you feel unconquerable?

Like I said, I suppose "Santa Claus is coming to town" could sound menacing if sung just right: "He knows when you are sleeping! He knows when you're awake!" -- just like Google & Facebook!

Also, do you feel safer now that you know there are IDF graphic designers and writers who wear real honest-to-gosh IDF uniforms to work in their magazine office? 

What can our enemies possibly do against our Photoshop and Word Office capabilities?

Ha! Take THAT, ISIS & Hamas! 

We will airbrush photos of your AK-47s with #FFFOEC PINK!

​We will spellcheck your grammar!

And if we're feeling particularly savage, we might even force you to try saying "P" and thus pronounce your alleged origin correctly.

Beware!

And those who think that Israelis are awful nasty brutes and think that the charedi Jews in particular are hate-filled fanatics whose encroaching growth must be halted at all costs -- and that everyone is a racist except those who hate the religious and the Right -- those radicals aren't going to be convinced that it's they who are the hate-filled racist fanatics...and not us.

Back to the initial true story in this post: Jews going all out to resuscitate someone possibly associated with Jew-killers just because he's a human being?

That's just considered an insignificant fluke by the real haters. In fact, they don't even bother knowing about it.

So this is just to boost you, the Torah-loving Jew, and remind you that you're part of a people who are mostly extremely compassionate (sometimes too compassionate, even) and proactive with chessed. ​​

And our Torah learning and our commitment to Torah values is the real deal.

Don't believe any hype that claims otherwise.

​Ashreinu!

Related links:

B'Machaneh: Do They Roast Marshmallows & Sing Folk Songs around a Camp Fire? 

​Before He Started Perfecting Netanyahu's I'm-Serious-and-Focused-You-Can-Trust-Me one-eyebrow-arch

It's local election-time here in Eretz Yisrael and one of the very gratifying aspects of living in a frum community is the positive difference in priorities.

For example, in some frum areas, you can see large posters in the streets and announcements in the local newspapers with messages like:

I just wanted to point out 2 powerfully positive developments (H/T Yeranen Yaakov):
​
Ben Gurion Airport to Shut Down for Yom Kippur

For the First Time, Kinneret Beaches to be Closed for Yom Kippur

These are steps in the right direction.

​Eretz Yisrael is spiritually sensitive and cannot tolerate desecration, which is why she is described as a Land that can vomit out her inhabitants.

Particularly with the shut-down of a major airport, I'd think that the logistics of doing so are quite complex. 

And of course, there are those who rage against these advances (although the beaches were also closed for Memorial Day and that was fine with these same inconsistent protesters). 

But the truth is that observing halacha ultimately saves lives and only brings blessing in the end, especially when mesirut nefesh is involved.

This is a big zechut for Am Yisrael and may it only increase.

Kol hakavod to all those involved.

May everyone have an easy fast and may we all merit to do complete teshuvah & have our teshuvah accepted by Hashem.

After everyone came from Morocco to Eretz Yisrael, my mother-in-law's widowed mother resided in an apartment in Afula to be near her son and his family.

My mother-in-law, her brother and his wife all took turns caring for the pious elderly lady.

For example, she was strict not to utter one word before netilat yadayim in the morning. Even when she had something urgent to say, she held back until her hands were washed.

Once, she woke up agitated and gestured for my mother-in-law (whose turn it was to care for her in the Afula apartment) to quickly prepare the netilat yadayim because she had something urgent to say.

My mother-in-law washed her hands, then her elderly mother said, "Your mother-in-law just passed away."

My husband's paternal grandmother had been living with my mother-in-law and father-in-law since their marriage (because the paternal grandmother's own husband had passed away a few months before their marriage -- actually, they'd been living with her; it the home of the paternal grandparents home that my mother-in-law moved into after the wedding).

"What?" said my mother-in-law. "How do you know?"

"I was just told in a dream," her elderly mother answered.

And my mother-in-law soon discovered that it was true. My husband's paternal grandmother had passed away early that morning.

Family lore has it that my mother-in-law's parents had been so wealthy that her mother never wore the same dress twice. I don't know if that is literally true. (It could be that she was in robes much of the time and only wore an actual dress for going out. Because otherwise, how you could you have hundreds of dresses you only wear once?)

But after wearing a dress once, she gave it away to the other women in the area. In this way, even the poorest woman from the most struggling family was always beautifully dressed.

But after a profound trauma caused by the Yishmaelites that killed her husband, the double-trauma of sudden widowhood preceded by the initial trauma thrust her into a deep depression. Amid the chaos and confusion, the the family lost all their money. My mother-in-law was only 6 and pulled out of school, never to return and receive an education. ​Her older brothers were sent to family in Algeria.

But back to the apartment in Afula...

One day, my mother-in-law noticed her mother staring out the widow and frowning. Then her mother called to her and asked my mother-in-law to quickly prepare 6 tomato-and-margarine sandwiches.

(That was all they had back then in Israel's immigrant neighborhoods in the early 1970s. My husband took such sandwiches to school every day. Butter and even the current staple of spreadable white cheese on bread was too expensive for the average immigrant in those times.) 

"Now take the sandwiches down to that Arab sweeping the streets," her elderly mother said.

Perplexed yet dutiful, my mother-in-law did so. The Arab streetsweeper responded with joyful surprise and heartfelt thanks, then my mother-in-law went back upstairs to her mother.

When my mother-in-law asked her mother why she needed to do that, her mother answered, "Don't you know that I always keep a lookout for signs of hunger in any living creature? And if I see they're hungry, I feed them. And when I give them food, I always pray that Hashem should behave with my descendants in the same way: Just as I show compassion and feed all who are hungry, so too should the Creator make sure that my descendants are never hungry."

In Morocco, if she passed by even a donkey that looked hungry, she would feed it.

I must admit that sometimes I entertain myself by trying to imagine this extremely refined beautifully dressed pious Jewish lady standing on a dusty road in Tafilalet and putting food in the mouth of a snappish, grumpy donkey. (Don't they bite? Aren't they kind of bad-tempered?) 

Anyway, this is clearly the ideal grandmother. Talk about looking out for your offspring!

Moreover, her method seems to have worked.

Looking at our own family and the offspring of her other sons and my mother-in-law, even if people aren't rich, they also don't suffer any serious lack. In fact, one of my husband's sisters married someone whose family had won the lottery and there are other grandchildren and great-grandchildren who are doing quite well financially.

Her natural Jewish concern for others, whether it was making sure the women in her area felt good about themselves by providing them with beautiful clothing, an act which prevented envy and ensured that even the poorest & most nebbuchy woman still looked beautiful for her husband or actively seeking out signs of hunger in all Hashem's creations in order to nourish them, this woman embodied a good Jewish heart.

(Also, I must commend her that in sharing her own clothing with everyone, it meant that she never stood out as the best-dressed because everyone was dressed like her, which shows an admirable resistence to showing-off.)

My mother-in-law's mother was tried with both the nisayon of wealth and the nisayon of financial struggle, and she dealt with both admirably by holding on to her empathy and compassion no matter what.

When we first got married, my Moroccan-Israeli husband and I traveled around Eretz Yisrael, meeting his family in different places.

In Haifa, we visited one of his cousins, the daughter of his father's sister, who was around 25 years older than my husband. She lived in an upper class apartment and looked secular. Impressed by her sweet and intelligent manner, I liked her right away.

As we sat down at the table in a kitchen filled with gentle sunlight, her teenage son swept in just then, wearing a leather jacket and holding a motorcycle helmet.

She invited him to join us, which he did. He greeted us very politely, then kept his head down the rest of the time. He behaved toward his mother with deference as she served him his hot lunch.

I was surprised to see a modern youth with longish hair and a black T-shirt behave in such a refined and respectful manner, which made me like him and his mother even more.

When she wanted to serve us fruit, my husband good-naturedly inquired whether it had undergone maaser (tithing). (This is an issue in Eretz Yisrael, where you can't even partake of something neutral like an apple or a cucumber without checking for maaser, which is why fruits and veggies need kosher certification in Eretz Yisrael.)

"No," she said, looking interested. "What is that?"

My husband pleasantly explained to her, then offered to do it for her, showing her and explaining along the way.

"Yes, yes!" she said. "Come and teach us about this!"

Relaxed and smiling, my husband got up and stood in front of her counter with a knife and a coin, and explained the process as he performed it while she looked on and asked questions.

Then they returned to sit at the table.

Her son kept his head down the whole time and only spoke to thank his mother for the food or to answer friendly questions from my husband.

It was only later that I realized that the young man understood that one shouldn't look at religious women (actually, they shouldn't look at any woman unless he's married to her or was born from her), and that's why he kept his head down the whole time.

Wow.

During the conversation, she mentioned that her and my husband's grandmother had been careful about modesty and refined dress.

"Her own daughters never saw her hair," she stated.

That sobered me as I looked at this refined woman with curly hennaed hair down to her shoulders, wearing jeans and a short-sleeved shirt.

You see this kind of thing a lot in Eretz Yisrael. There are so many Jews with good Jewish hearts, running the gamut from secular to religious.

​When you talk to them about mitzvot or Torah, they're into it. They care. Many feel reverence when going to shul or visiting the Kotel. And my husband's cousin obviously knew how to be mechanech her children in the old-fashioned Jewish way. Despite her son's biker appearance, he behaved like the quintessential good Jewish boy.

But all sorts of other influences got and continue to get in the way.

People have different reasons for having abandoned many mitzvot and for not returning. It depends.

But that good Jewish heart and soul's desire to connect to Torah and mitzvot is there underneath, waiting for the heart to be awakened.

May our hearts all awaken to fulfill our purest soul-yearning.

What if I told you a whole range of exotic mitzvot is now available for Jews around the world to perform?

Sounds crazy? Of course! What could it be that we've been missing?

But this is exactly the idea behind the foundation of Kinyan Eretz Yisrael, an organization dedicated to enabling Jews to perform the Mitzvot of the Land of Yisrael.

Founded about 14 years ago by rabbis expert in the Halachot of Agriculture, Kinyan Eretz Yisrael mediates sales of plots of dalet-amot and acts as shluchim so that buyers can now be credited with what was previously the exclusive domain of farmers.

We are here talking about no less than 28 Mitzvot which are now available to Jews without leaving home.

Anyone wishing to acquire a parcel of land from these two farms can go to Kinyan Eretz Yisrael's website, fill out the form, and purchase. From this point onward, the buyer will have enough halachic ownership in order to be halachically credited with these Mitzvot!

This means that the buyer can go to the field during harvest time, usually around Tammuz, and perform the Mitzvot himself. The team of Kinyan Eretz Yisrael's rabbis go to the fields every year during one week so that everyone can join in and perform these Mitzvot by themselves.

In case someone can't participate in the ceremony, the rabbis will perform the Mitzvot as agents and all the produce will be promptly donated to poor Jewish families.

​Rabbi Meir Leibowitz, the founder of the initiative started Kinyan Ha'aretz (the old name) by buying two farms, one in Moshav Mazkeret Batya, where they grow wheat and one in Zichron Yaakov, for the cultivation of grapes.

As it turns out, Kinyan Eretz Yisrael received Haskamot from great names such as HaRav Yosef Shalom Elyashiv ZT"L, HaRav Aharon Yehuda Leib Shteinman ZT"L, HaRav Chaim Kanievsky Shlita, HaRav Shmuel Kamenetsky Shlita, HaRav Yehuda Ades Shlita, the Admor of Belz Shlita, and many others.

Urged by the gedolim, Rabbi Meir has been reaching out to English-speaking communities abroad and the responses have been way better than he expected. 

But the idea behind Kinyan Eretz Yisrael is not really new.

​It's known that almost three hundred years ago, none less than the Vilna Gaon participated in such an enterprise with his disciples who made Aliyah. The practice was discontinued, but now our generation is gifted with the modern version, easily attainable by anyone interested.

As Rosh Hashanah approaches, this is an opportune time to accrue extra merit in Shamayim. May we all be found zocheh in Hashem's eyes and be inscribed in the Book of Life!

“From here we learn that whoever purchases four amos in Eretz Yisroel is guaranteed a portion in the World to Come” (Midrash Zuta, Koheles 7)

We, the undersigned Jewish bloggers, hereby protest – in the strongest terms possible – the parading and glorification of an “alternative lifestyle”, one that is classified in the Holy Torah as an abomination, especially through the streets of the holy city of Jerusalem. 
 
The Torah demands that we live by a certain code of sexual morality, and as such, we are forbidden from certain relationships that a moral society cannot tolerate.  These include incest, adultery, bestiality, and homosexuality.  All these are considered grave sins in Judaism and incur the punishment of Karet, or excision from the Jewish people.  An act performed with witnesses during the time of the Sanhedrin would incur an even worse consequence – namely, capital punishment. 
 
And this is only on an individual level.  When the sin is committed on a societal level, it is much worse.  The Torah and our sages record how these acts were catalysts for both the Great Flood during Noah’s lifetime and the destruction of the Five Cities of the Plain.
 
As such, we consider any attempt to glorify acts that the Torah vehemently forbids by parading any such lifestyle through the streets with horror and utter disdain.  Such parades in New York and San Francisco would be bad enough, but through the streets of the Holy Land of Israel is a thousand-fold worse.  The Torah specifically warns us not to act in sexually abominable ways lest we be vomited out of the land.  One can only imagine how it is viewed in Heaven when people brazenly display to G-d how abominable one can be.  And if the Land of Israel cannot tolerate such acts of utter gall, all the more so in the holy city of Jerusalem, a city that is overwhelmingly religious. 
 
We in no way wish to minimize the struggles in temptation some may have in this area and view with positivity those who have such inclinations and bravely overcome them.  But those are not the people irreverently parading through the streets with rainbow flags, who show utter contempt for the Holy Torah and all we hold dear.
 
We therefore vehemently protest the “Pride” Parade in Jerusalem and everywhere else in the world where they may occur.  We hope and pray that those who take part in such parades do a complete Teshuva for their actions, and may we see a rebuilt Jerusalem, speedily in our days, Amen.
 
Signed,
(in alphabetical order)

Alizah from Alizah Teitelbaum
 
CDG from Hava HaAharona
 
Cosmic X from Cosmic X in Jerusalem
 
Dassie from Myrtle Rising
 
Devash from Tomer Devorah
 
Dov Bar Leib from End of Days
 
DS from Israel Truth Times
 
Goldie ZP from Geula613

אורנה ניצבת from Orna Nitzevet
 
Rabbi Lazer Brody from Lazer Beams
 
Yaak from Yeranen Yaakov
 
Yakov Butterfield from Jerusalem Cats: Jerusalem is not San Francisco

Yechezkel Hirshman from Achas L'Maala V'Sheva L'Matta

Yehudi Yerushalmi from Yehudi Yerushalmi

The other day, I met a woman from an established frum community outside of Israel.
 
She had many close family members living in Eretz Yisrael whom she visited often.
 
But she herself wasn’t willing to make aliyah, though she hesitated to come right out and say it. She knew she didn’t have compelling reasons to stay where she was, but at the same time, she couldn’t help how she felt.

(Note: This isn't true of everyone. Some people do have compelling reasons to stay.)

The truth is, within established frum communities outside of Eretz Yisrael, it’s very easy to feel comfortable as a totally frum Jew.
 
On a purely material level, you have everything you’d ever need to provide the most pleasurable oneg Shabbat possible:

• any kind of food available with one of the only hechshers you eat
• the most beautiful and high-quality modest clothes
• 5-star hotels that cater to your every kashrut, Shabbat, and Pesach halachic requirement
• fancy restaurants & catering that feature gourmet and even exotic food sporting the most exacting hechshers
• luxury homes just a walk away from your family’s shul and your best friends
• schools to suit every kind of child and offering the best Jewish education has to offer
• stores and bakeries that cater to even the most exquisite tastes at any price and under any hechsher you need

 
And yes, I realize that not every frum Jew living outside of Eretz Yisrael is lounging in the lap of luxury.

In fact, when I lived in the US, I met a lot of frum people struggling financially and obviously miserable about it. The idea that frum Jews can't give up their fancy hi-tech kitchens is a misnomer for many of them.

A lot of people are struggling. A lot of people feel like they’re struggling just to keep their head above water in America, and that aliyah will plunge them underneath the waves and hold them down where they can’t even breathe.
 
But there is this not-insignificant group of frum Jews for whom the frumkeit outside of Eretz Yisrael is just too uncomfortable.

Not just the material aspects (smaller home, etc.), but the actual frumkeit.
 
“I get my chicken fresh from my butcher,” she explained. “I get exactly the chicken I want and he cuts it just like I like. But I look at the frozen chicken in the Israeli supermarkets and I’m like…” She wrinkled her nose and smiled apologetically. “It’s just not the same.”
 
Note: You can also get fresh chicken cut just like you like from a kosher butcher in some places in Eretz Yisrael. But where she was visiting, you couldn’t.
 
And I know that there are communities outside of Eretz Yisrael who run themselves into debt for the sake of honoring Shabbos and the chagim.
 
And for the lady above, moving to Eretz Yisrael may mean that her oneg Shabbat will go down a bit. Depending on where she would live and her finances after aliyah, she may have to settle for a less succulent chicken l’chvod Shabbat, among many other diminishments.

For some people, the actual frumkeit part of life shines a bit dimmer in Eretz Yisrael.

And maybe that’s kind of depressing.

And I didn’t know what to tell her.
 
Because you see, I can’t judge.

I grew up secular in a predominantly non-Jewish area in America and for me, Eretz Yisrael means quiet empty (or quieter & emptier) streets on Shabbat.

It means frum (or at least Jewish) neighbors you can exchange edible goodies with. It means that my holidays are celebrated right down to the cheerful Chag Sameach! illuminated digitally from the crown of the public buses.

It means that even the most assimilated Jewish teenager has at least heard of Shavuot, even if they only think it’s a “harvester’s holiday” during which you eat cheesecake.
 
Where I lived, modest clothes were a frustration to seek out. Finding modest Shabbat clothes that weren’t dry-clean only was nearly impossible.
 
In America, I felt like I was an outsider wherever I went.
 
But in Eretz Yisrael, whether I’m at the mall or the supermarket or the pizza shop or the hardware store, I’m among family.

Asking, “Which one is the best jam for making sufanganiot?” or “Does this fan have a Shabbat setting?” are questions I can ask and have been asked by both fellow customers and store employees—even those who don’t look frum.
 
In fact, I remember one heart-warming moment when the long-haired leather-wearing kippah-less delivery boy came with some food I’d ordered. It was pareve food, but it originated from a dairy restaurant.
 
I asked the young man about whether the restaurant featured a fully separate pareve section which would make this food wholly pareve.

Under his nose rings, he explained with cheerful meticulousness that while this food was technically pareve, it was prepared within a dairy environment, “making it b’chezkat chalav,” he enunciated. “So since it is b’chezkat chalav, it’s recommended according to halacha, to treat it as if it’s dairy and not eat anything meat with it.” He then waited with a reassuring grin to make sure I understood and was on his way.
 
Of course, I suppose you can also experience something like the above if you live in one of those established frum neighborhoods outside of Eretz Yisrael.
 
But the point here is that I didn’t live in one of those, nor did I want to.

So for me, living in Eretz Yisrael is an ongoing thrill simply because of the religious convenience.

I feel spoiled and pampered, religiously speaking.
 
And for me, this makes up for the serious lowering of material standards and inconveniences one usually faces when settling in Eretz Yisrael.
 
Heck, I even like a lot of the cultural aspects of living here.

There was (and is) a lot I didn’t like about living in America.

I also came to Eretz Yisrael just out of my teens. Coming young makes things a lot easier than coming in your thirties with a nice train of children.
 
Then I married an Israeli. And boy, that sure eases a lot of things too. He knows Hebrew fluently, for one.
 
But what if things hadn’t been like that for me? And what if my personality was different?
 
What if I didn’t like Israeli culture and I was completely comfortable in American culture?

What if I’d grown up in a thriving frum environment in the US with the answer to every religious convention and convenience at my fingertips and custom-made to the highest religious and material standards?
 
The fact that I’m happy here and even when I haven’t been happy here, would never leave because no matter what, I just was never able to be happy in America, whether I was secular or religious…that’s mazal.
 
That’s not me. What if I was happy in America? What if I actually missed chutz l’Aretz?

(But for the sake of full disclosure: Initially, there were aspects of America I missed that I no longer miss. But even during the initial transition, I didn't miss the USA overall, just certain aspects of it. And sometimes, the yearning for a specific aspect of American life was incredibly strong.)
 
If I feel the way I do, then it’s mazal. I didn’t do it. It’s something to be grateful for.

It’s a totally unearned gift.
 
So what right do I have to tell others to make aliyah too when I'm not sure if I'd have been able to do had not the factors lined up right for me?
 
Should Jews make aliyah? Yes, if at all possible. Halachically speaking, they should at least make an effort, or at the very least, pray for it to happen.
 
But I always feel like a bit of a hypocrite telling others to come (even though I think everyone should if at all possible).
 
How can I tell them to do something that might make them miserable for the rest of their lives?

(And I’ve met many dissatisfied unhappy frum Jews living their lives in Eretz Yisrael who constantly harp on how much better it is in America.)
 
After all, my reasons for coming were purely emotional.

I loved the life here. I hated the life there.

And I still do.
 
But what if I didn’t? I honestly don’t think I would come.
 
Oh, sure. There are very real problems for Jews in chutz l’Aretz; England and Europe are already finished as far as I can tell.
 
But it’s not like there aren’t diseases, car accidents, terror attacks, actual missiles, and even intermarriage here, may Hashem have mercy.
 
Furthermore, some Jews outside of Eretz Yisrael will survive the coming Geula and some Jews within Eretz Yisrael won’t.
 
So what do I say without being an ungrateful hypocrite?

I feel very, very grateful to be here and to be happy about it.

And that's not from me; it's only from Hashem.
________
ADDENDUM TO THIS POST:
Rav Eliezer Papo, author of the Pele Yoetz, composed a prayer for those who wish to come to Eretz Yisrael:
A Prayer to Make Aliyah & Live in Eretz Yisrael