“I never thought that my first year of studying in Israel would be cut short… I guess I had become so used to the routine of the days that I forgot what it consisted of: learning Torah alongside others who wanted to learn just as much as myself.”
This young lady is not the only person who is feeling the phrase, “Man plans and G-d laughs,” now more than ever. Students in the States are having their final semester of college cut short. A friend of mine who made her Broadway debut at the beginning of the week is now watching the “city that never sleeps” shut down. For the first time in my lifetime, students, workers, artists, teachers, and doers are being told to stop their lives and stay in, or delve inward.
Israel, similar to New York City, is normally filled with constant movement. Whether it be busy shoppers at the shuk (outdoor market) on Friday afternoon, or eager tourists flooding the Western Wall, the energy of this country is always on a “high.” Being under threatening circumstances practically every moment, precautions and consciousness run through the veins of the people and the government. Security is not limited to shopping malls and train stations, but extend to the holiest sites on earth. One can always expect to wait in a long line to enter a metal detector at the Western Wall, but this Friday afternoon was different.
This past Shabbat, I stayed at the home of a family living in the Old City of Jerusalem. Typically, despite even a rainy day, the city is expected to have walkers, as religious Jews do not drive on Shabbat. Because they have the privilege of being so close to the Kotel, or the Western Wall, it’s not unusual to see the streets filled with laughing children, men walking and talking, and young women dressed in their finest outfits. Whether they take their prayers to the wall or simply enjoy the day of rest, many people take advantage of the day for family, reflection, and soaking in that which often gets lost in the “noise” of busy weekdays.
After candle-lighting, I decided to take my thoughts of the current craziness to the Wall. Walking through the streets, Jerusalem felt like a ghost town. Typically, despite the rain, people walk hurriedly to services or gather in the streets to chat with friends. Though it was raining on Friday, I knew that the streets were empty for another reason. Approaching security, I was asked to show my ID. Not having my wallet on me, as it was Shabbat, I explained that I did not have it. They have never asked for an ID before.
Although I do not understand the reasoning behind needing my ID, I did realize something quite beautiful for the first time. There are not restrictions on who can and cannot go to the Western Wall. All the country expects is that a person does not enter with anything dangerous. Tourists from all over the world are welcomed, as all people can connect to the tremendous Divine energy of the site.
Thankfully, they allowed me to enter without the ID. I continued down to the Western Wall, where I saw only a handful of others, a shocking sight for this time of day. On Friday night this space is normally bustling. Tents had been pitched for up to 50 people and I watched as people continued to stand breaths away from the wall, albeit, not touching or kissing it, as is customary. I thought to myself, ‘How are they not afraid? Thousands of hands, from all over the world, have touched that wall…’
There is a song that is sung often in Israel: Veha’ikar lo lifached k’lal
And the main thing is to have no fear at all.
Although there is anxiety and frustration due to the Coronavirus restrictions, this is a tremendous opportunity for turning inward, whether you are in Israel or any part of the world. People are feeling trapped in many ways and defeated by the uncertainty, but this can be a time of recognition that so little is in our control. The head of our seminary has encouraged we take seriously what the country has instructed -- increased hand-washing, limited travel, and avoiding unnecessary gatherings. Besides doing our part to stay healthy, however, the only thing that remains up to us as individuals is our attitude and perspective.
Shabbat enforces a mentality that, for 24 hours, you become a receiver of the world. You do not create, you do not build, you do not engage in certain activities - you connect with your Source and your inner-most self.
Being in Israel during the Coronavirus outbreak has reiterated the impact of disconnecting in order to connect. Judaism teaches us that at all times, everything is for the good -- whether shops are being closed down because of Shabbat or for health precautions -- even when it is an inconvenience to what we are used to. Once a week, Jerusalem practically shuts down, and has developed a mindset that what is seemingly restrictive is quite freeing. I hope we are all able to find freedom in the restrictions.
Paris Naster grew up in Overland Park, Kansas. She is the daughter of Debbi Naster. She has been studying Judaism at the Neve Yerushalayim Seminary in Jerusalem since September and plans to stay until June
