My third Shabbat in Jerusalem was very special.
It began with Kabbalat Shabbat in the apartment of a friend of mine. The plan was to hold an intimate egalitarian service. I think he expected just over 10 people to show up, yet somehow, through word of mouth, almost 30 people came. The services were lively and joyful. A real sense of community was forged amongst the worshippers as we joined together to welcome the Sabbath Bride. I've known it for a while, but I definitely prefer smaller "shuls" over larger ones.
After shul on Saturday morning I found out that Rachel and Avi, two friends of mine from McGill who are now both in Israel for the summer, got engaged two days earlier. (Mazel Tov!) I was invited over to "Rav Cohn's" house later in the afternoon for a l'chaim. What was waiting for me there was far more than I could have expected (more on that later).
I had a pot luck picnic lunch with some friends in the park. It was pretty cool because there were lots of other people there also enjoying the sunny Shabbat afternoon. Somebody joined our picnic who made aliyah about 8 years ago from the U.S. He's now 26 (I think) and is just finishing up a degree from Hebrew University. He said that he was grateful to be with us because he had expected that he would be called up for
Miluim (army reserve duty) before Shabbat. He told us that he had a ticket to go and visit the States for a few months and that he was planning on leaving on Tuesday (this was booked months before Hezbollah started firing rockets at the North) . But, he told us that if he were called, he would certainly serve. He explained that if he chose to, it would not be too difficult to get out of his army service, especially with his planned trip to North America.
I was already humbled by his commitment to Israel and to the IDF, but then as the conversation continued I was blown away. It became very clear that this person is left leaning and would probably hate every minute of his service. Yet, even with an excellent excuse to get out, he wouldn't consider the option.
I've been thinking a lot about him since Shabbat. I've been asking around, and I don't think that he's been called yet. I have great respect for him.
Ok, back to the L'chaim for Rachel and Avi...
Rav Cohn is a rabbi who served for a year as a
shaliach (literally, a messenger) to Montreal from Israel in 2002. I guess that is where Rachel and Avi met him.
He now lives in Jerusalem in an apartment with his wife and two small children. When I arrived at the house, I thought that I had come to wrong place. I opened the door, and I was greeted by 2 mothers with tattoos and skimpy tank-tops holding small children. Not exactly the "religious stereotype" that I was expecting. As I peered in further, I saw what appeared to be 3 more people from the same family (a brother to the young mothers, who was wearing a very tight shirt and had a pony tail, and their parents).
Finally, a man with a beard and a kippah emerged from the kitchen and introduced himself as Rabbi Cohn. He invited me in.
I thought that perhaps this other family were relatives of the Cohn's who just weren't religious.
After further investigation, I found out that I was very wrong.
It turns out that this family and the Cohn's did not even know each other, but that the Cohn's had been hosting them for a week. They are from Kiryat Shmona in Northern Israel and had to leave because of the constant barrage of rockets falling on their city.
The Cohn's opened up their home to complete strangers; people who from the outside are very different from them.
In the past couple of weeks I've heard that families in "safe cities" have been putting up families from the North. I just hadn't seen it for myself yet. It was a powerful site that almost brought me to tears.
In times of crisis, the lines that tend to divide Jews in Israel seem to weaken. Religious vs. Secular, Left vs. right etc.
Rav Cohn's home beautifully demonstrated the famous adage
kol yisrael areivim zeh lazeh - All of Israel is responsible for one another.
This is a Shabbat that I will not soon forget.
