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IN-DEPTH FEATURES
The last bastion of the Israeli elite has been destroyed
through a slow, but ongoing process. Today, synagogues have
been erected and Torah classes have been formed in the very
kibbutzim that were founded with a desire to forget
Judaism.
Rav Eliezer Sorotzkin, the director of Lev L'Achim: "It
only takes one spark of Judaism in a kibbutz to cause a
revolution." Rav Michoel Lasri, one of the top Arachim
lecturers: "Today kibbutz members request that Arachim should
conduct seminars on their kibbutz."
*
A piece of news that would have previously caused a world-
wide sensation found its place in the margins of the written
media recently, and thus another point was scored for the
penetration of the most difficult anti-religious fortress of
the Ashkenazi elite in Israel. The article discussed the
orthodox synagogue built in Kibbutz Deganya in the North.
Anyone who is even a little familiar with the kibbutz system
will immediately understand the impact of this story. A mere
few years ago, chareidim couldn't set foot in this anti-
religious kibbutz. Now a synagogue has been erected there,
and a chareidi one no less.
Today even the following scenario is not rare in the
kibbutzim: ever so often you can see the Second Generation,
the adult children of kibbutz members, coming to the kibbutz
with a small truck, and replacing or kashering their
parents' kitchens. The children do this and other things in
order to be able to visit their parents for Shabbos. Since
they have an adjacent synagogue with a minyan,
visiting is a real possibility. Don't forget that the Second
Generation doesn't have any childhood memories of Shabbos
services in the synagogue or of candle lighting since many
kibbutzim didn't have synagogues and even if they did, they
were locked and deserted. No one observed Shabbos, either.
A short survey of the various kibbutzim in Israel, including
the most radically anti-religious kibbutzim, uncovers a
gaping hole in their former blockade against Judaism. Not one
of the many activists who have been asked to come and quench
the spiritual thirst rampant in these forlorn places can
explain the change. While we must emphasize that we are still
far from announcing a complete turnaround on the anti-
religious kibbutzim, we are on the way.
"It only takes one spark of Judaism on a kibbutz, one of its
members who becomes religious, to cause a revolution," Rav
Eliezer Sorotzkin, the director of Lev L'Achim, told Yated
Ne'eman.
Lev L'Achim assisted a family with whom it was extremely
difficult to work. The family had relatives living on a
kibbutz and one evening the family attended a celebration
there. When the family noticed that one of the children of
another kibbutz family had become religious, they got a
shock. They simply couldn't believe it. The blow was so
strong that it accomplished what the Lev L'Achim outreach
workers had tried unsuccessfully to accomplish for some time.
"Nowadays in the kibbutzim it's already a matter of
cultivating the spark in order for it to light others . .
."
The penetration of the kibbutz stronghold began a number of
years ago. Today, numerous Lev L'Achim outreach workers lead
groups in people's houses and teach classes on the kibbutzim.
Though it's hard to believe, Arachim presents seminars on the
kibbutzim, the bastion of secularity, all the time. Rav
Michoel Lasri, one of the senior Arachim lecturers, told
Yated Ne'eman that the kibbutzim were previously
impenetrable, but now one kibbutz encourages another to take
the initiative and become interested in Judaism.
"Arachim receives requests to hold seminars on kibbutzim!" he
says excitedly. "Just this week I was in kibbutz Sde Yoav for
Arachim activities. Suddenly one of the kibbutz members
noticed me. He saw me with a hat and jacket and got such a
shock. I said to him, `I've decided to leave the ghetto, to
start to explore the world, to see, to open up and expand my
horizons.' [Rav Lasri smiles] The kibbutz member started to
recover from the sight and said, `Um, good, great. Join us.'
So we sat for two full hours! And that's not the only time.
What's amazing is that just about whenever we meet someone on
a kibbutz and start to talk, the conversation lasts hours.
It's because of the utter ignorance that is found on the
kibbutzim in connection to anything Jewish. In the beginning
it was hard for us to digest ignorance of such a
magnitude."
The Club that Became a Synagogue
Rav Moshe Zeibler, the coordinator of Lev L'Achim in the
North, presented facts about kibbutzim and settlements that
cast off the yoke of religious life and today have members
moving closer to Torah. In order to define the movement, he
presents the following radical example: to have thought 15
years ago that a Jew from Jerusalem's Meah Shearim
neighborhood would enter a kibbutz is like imagining today
that a Jew would enter Gaza. Really.
And here are some facts:
In Nechemia, a formerly anti-religious settlement near the
Beit Shean Valley, there's been a real revolution. After
Shimon Rosenberg, a local resident, became religious through
Lev L'Achim, he began a whirlwind of activities. The
settlement had a deserted synagogue; Rosenberg brought it to
life. First there were Shabbos services and a sefer
Torah was acquired, then a group of young people moved
in, a minyan was formed and more prayer services were
added. Today there are services all week long and Torah
classes are conducted twice each week.
Kibbutz Ayelet HaShachar, which is affiliated with the anti-
religious HaShomer Hatzair, didn't even have a synagogue. A
number of years ago two members of the kibbutz became
religious and chose to continue to live there. Through their
hard work, they managed to bring fellow kibbutz members
closer to the warmth of Judaism. The process was slow and
took five years.
In the beginning they led a single group in the kibbutz's
social club building as they had no building more fit to be a
synagogue. As they were members of the kibbutz, they were
allowed to request to use the club for their activities.
One group led to another. Shabbos services and lectures about
religion followed. When the other members of the kibbutz came
to terms with the change, they even let them repair the
building. Nowadays, the club functions as a synagogue
throughout most of the day and club activities are relatively
infrequent. None of the founders of the kibbutz could have
ever imagined that the club would turn into a place of Torah
and that the synagogue would be filled with kibbutz
members.
Kfar HaVradim is another example. It was founded on the
premise that it wouldn't have any connection to religion.
Eleven years ago Lev L'Achim began a small group in someone's
home there which was led by an avreich from the
neighboring city of Carmiel. Today, the city boasts a
beautiful synagogue and nearly thirty families have become
religious and are sending their children to a private
religious school in Carmiel. Transportation is provided.
A similar thing happened in Kibbutz Ha'on, once one of the
most vehemently anti-religious places. The kibbutz even had a
group of Christians active in a large building rented on the
premises. One of the kibbutz members became religious and
convinced a friend. Together, the two men founded a synagogue
in the kibbutz parking lot. After a number of residents
joined them, they managed to evict the Christian
activists.
Why do people choose to remain living on the kibbutz after
they become religious?
They got used to kibbutz life and they're happy there.
How do you explain the religious revival?
There's no explanation. There's only one thing that can shed
some light on what's happening. HaRav Shteinman said at one
of the Lev L'Achim seminars, `This is an opportune time which
obligates everyone, and who knows if, G-d forbid, this
opportune moment will [cease to] exist tomorrow. We have to
seize the opportunity.' There's no other explanation.
Rav Zeibler, how do the older kibbutz members react as
they watch their life's work fall to pieces?
The reaction often differs from various groups: the 60- to 80-
year-olds take it hard. They feel betrayed. But what goes
around comes around. Their children are betraying them in the
same way they betrayed their own parents. The elderly above
the age of 80 are surprisingly pleased. Some of them are even
reliving their childhood memories from cheder, and
they tell our volunteers, "Keep up the good work."
In general the kibbutzim are already falling apart,
ideologically speaking. The vision on which the kibbutzim
were founded went sour and you can hear the older people
discussing it. They say that maybe their parents were right,
maybe their children were, but they definitely weren't. Among
the `young' elderly, however, there are those that are simply
unwilling to admit failure.
Do they try to spoil your activities on the
kibbutzim?
No. They're not dominant any more. They don't have anything
to offer. They see the failure of the education that their
grandchildren received, there's no education and no culture.
Everything's Western culture with earrings in the ears (of
the men), something that definitely wasn't characteristic of
Zionism and they definitely didn't wish for. Everything
that's happening really fits, "Veheishiv lev ovos al
bonim."
Do you meet people who acknowledge their mistakes and
therefore feel even more hatred?
Arrogant people really cannot acknowledge their mistakes, and
the teshuvoh movement really hurts them. Others say,
"No matter how you look at it, today the kibbutz isn't a
kibbutz and the country isn't a country . . ."
The Revolution in the Settlements
Rav Zeibler speaks about the revolution in the agricultural
settlements (moshavim). It is similar to the one on
the kibbutzim, only slower. As a rule, he says, the process
is more gradual for Ashkenazim, but it is also thorough
— which has its good aspects. Since Ashkenazim don't
follow their hearts as quickly and are further removed from
tradition, they must be convinced rationally. Some of them
are adamant. But once they are convinced, they take becoming
religious very seriously.
There's a different kind of problem in the settlements whose
population is mostly Sephardi. They have positive feelings
towards tradition, which makes it easy to establish a
connection with them, but they are spiritually
nearsighted.
I'll give you an example. When I come to speak with someone
from a settlement in order to enroll his children in a
religious school, he will resist much less than someone from
a kibbutz. However when the time comes, the father will want
to see his son follow in his footsteps and develop the farm.
At that stage, a lot of convincing and explanations are
necessary. To explain the contrast to the Ashkenazi kibbutzim
we would say that for kibbutz members you need a lot of
mental work, to convince them rationally. From the moment
they're convinced, everything's fine, but it doesn't happen
instantly.
Rav Zeibler chooses to raise another point which would have
seemed far-fetched only a few years ago: A number of
kibbutzim that previously forbade the religious from
entering, are now opening motels and guest houses with
glatt kosher certification.
Do they really want chareidim to vacation there?
Absolutely. Kibbutz Ha'on, which was formerly the most anti-
religious kibbutz, is now running a year-round glatt
hotel. This is proof that the opposition to religion in these
places has decreased significantly. This is partially because
some of their children are following the Jewish path.
Is it possible to announce a real revolution on the
kibbutzim?
You still don't see religious life in full swing in these
places. You can't yet say that there are tons of people
becoming religious on the kibbutzim. But thank G-d, the
opposition there has been eradicated and a chareidi can set
foot there. They'll even talk to him, smile at him, and you
won't believe it — but they'll even understand where
he's coming from. The revolution usually occurs when one of
the kibbutz members discovers the light of Judaism.
Rav Zeibler says that Lev L'Achim sees the breakthrough in
the last and hardest bastion of anti-religious sentiment as a
real success. Even so, it's still far from what may be called
a real revolution.
The Religious Revival
Rabbi Eliezer Sorotzkin, the director of Lev L'Achim, still
attempts to explain the reason for the revival on the
kibbutzim. Above and beyond the fact that their ideology fell
apart, or as Rav Michoel Lasri from Arachim so aptly portrays
it, exploded like a bombshell that soars high and then
crashes mightily to the ground when it becomes apparent that
it has no future. Only the path to Torah has a future. Rabbi
Sorotzkin also claims that the vehemence of the `recoil'
[from chareidim] has also dramatically shrunk.
"Today there's an amazing phenomenon," he says, "of people
becoming more observant. I live in Netanya and I see high
school students in the street who have no connection to
Judaism, yet they wear large white yarmulkes and
tzitzis under their shirts. The cringing that has
completely vanished is what is directly responsible for the
breakthrough in the kibbutzim.
"There was a period when people felt that becoming religious
was crossing a boundary. That's why there were very few
people becoming religious from the kibbutzim because there
the boundaries are deeper and stronger. The `anti' attitude
is what created the large divide. But there has been a lot of
crossing the line in the last two years — and we still
have to explain it . . . Especially among the youth who are
returning to Judaism, becoming religious is even fashionable,
and there's no explanation for it. And if somebody doesn't
come and guide and direct these youth, the whole thing will
remain a passing fad.
"This situation, in which media stars are becoming religious,
caused people, even on the kibbutzim, not to view becoming
observant as something so strange and threatening. So the
atmosphere becomes more open anyway, and many people go from
the beginning stages of observance to learning with an
avreich, to attending a yeshiva in Jerusalem, etc.
This is a phenomenon that you never saw in the past. You can
also see buses full of non-religious people coming to Meiron
to pray at the grave of Rabbi Shimon bar Yochai, and they
themselves don't know why they are so excited. It will take a
while to understand this wave of sympathy and positive
feelings for religion. This, of course, is not a return to
religion, and we must therefore take advantage of this
opportunity to guide people while they're interested.
There was a period of emptiness, during which many people
traveled to the Far East. Some people still do, but not so
many. The youth are much less attracted to it today.
Kabboloh was also `in' until recently. Now the trend
is to become more observant. This is amazing because the
gates are open now and the youth are thirsting [for Torah]
and it is even possible to convince a non-religious boy to
sit down and learn gemora with you for an hour now.
It's not unheard of.
The Wall of Disgust Has Fallen
"A number of months ago I spent an entire day in Be'er Sheva
with a group of volunteers. It was already late at night in
the Ramot neighborhood when the local coordinator informed me
that we had a group waiting. The neighborhood is like a
kibbutz. An avreich, who himself became religious,
learns with this group. No sooner did we enter the auditorium
when the group burst out singing . . . After the singing
they requested a dvar Torah and then I asked the 40
teenagers sitting there, `Did any of you lay tefillin
today?'
"You have to understand," Rav Sorotzkin says, "we're talking
about a bunch of high school students. Ten of them said that
they laid tefillin, one had been doing so since his
bar mitzvah, another because his family is traditional, a
third decided to start when he went to the Kosel on Hoshanna
Rabba. The group clapped for all those that answered
affirmatively.
"Then they pointed out one boy to me and told me to ask him
if he lays tefillin. `To tell you the truth,' he
answered, `I don't.'
"`Why not?' I asked.
"`The principal of our school is very particular about us
arriving on time. If a kid comes late, he's thrown out.
School starts at 8:00, I get up at 7:50, change my shirt,
drink something on the way and show up at the last
minute.'
"`Couldn't you get up ten minutes earlier?'
"`I can't do it.'
"`If I call you tomorrow at 7:30 will you get up?' I
asked.
"He didn't answer. I wrote down his name and his number. I
directed the question to everyone. 30 students signed up! I
wrote down everyone's name and phone number, and the next
morning I gave everyone a wake-up call . . . Everyone got up,
except for two of the students. One of them was the tired
kid. He didn't even answer the phone. Another student's
father answered and hung up furiously. I think he broke the
receiver . . . " Rav Sorotzkin laughed; he doesn't get worked
up by cases like these any more.
"Friday afternoon the coordinator from Be'er Sheva called me
and told me about the students' reaction. `What a great
rabbi. He got us all up.' The coordinator called again two
weeks later, this time to request permission to order a van.
The students wanted to go visit a yeshiva in Jerusalem.
Payment for the trip was approved. About two weeks after that
he called again, this time to recommend visiting the dressing
room in the students' high school. You see kids without
yarmulkes wearing tzitzis under their shirts,
davening Mincha.
"That's basically the religious revival in a nutshell, if you
want to know. These students, thank G-d, have an
avreich guiding them, and I hope that they'll make it,
G-d willing, to yeshivas.
"Now the revival that's taking place on the kibbutzim is
understandable. Everyone involved with it feels like
something is happening. Of course, the revolution isn't
complete yet."
Rav Sorotzkin believes that there's one other factor
influencing the kibbutz members: now that so many of them
work outside of the kibbutz, the kibbutz is no longer the
sealed bubble that it used to be. When they go out into the
big city they see real chareidim and get a positive
impression of them, not like the way the media portrays
them.
Rav Sorotzkin chooses to end our conversation with the rather
rare and interesting case of a Lev L'Achim volunteer in the
North, who himself is a former kibbutz member who now helps
others become religious. "He's one of the core who became
religious and he currently works to bring others back to
Torah."
Academic Seminars for Kibbutz Members
Arachim has special academic seminars for kibbutz members.
For more than eight years Arachim has been bringing academic
lecturers to the kibbutzim or their vicinity. According to
Rav Michoel Lasri, many kibbutz families have participated in
this program and today these families even invite rabbis on
their own to come speak at the kibbutzim.
The Arachim breakthrough occurred in one year, when the
number of seminars they held increased from one hundred a
year to two-hundred-and-fifty. Two hundred were held in
Israel and fifty internationally. "The demand was so great,"
Rav Lasri recounts, "that we started to look all across the
country for locations to conduct seminars. That's when the
kibbutz barrier fell. At first the kibbutz members were
skeptical. `What do you want to do?' they would ask
suspiciously. In these cases we always tell them that we're
making a retreat or that we're having educational lectures on
the topics of family, personal development, the workings of
the soul from a kabbalistic perspective . . . things that
interest people. They were satisfied and that's how the
revolution began."
Rav Lasri lectures for Arachim both in Israel and abroad. He
is frequently requested to speak on kibbutzim because of the
unique way in which he combines humor with deep messages
presented delicately. Rav Lasri entertains his audience while
he scoffs at the very world in which they live. The
enraptured audience then realizes that, contrary to the way
chareidim are portrayed in the media, in reality "chareidim
don't scream and throw rocks." Only then does Rav Lasri
encourage them to attend academic lectures and special
seminars.
Rav Y. Yosefi, one of the senior Arachim lecturers, adapted
Rav Lasri's style in a different situation: Once there was a
sick boy who refused to take his much-needed medicine. The
only way to get him to swallow the medicine was first to
tickle him until he opened his mouth. "That's what Rav Lasri
does," he said. That's why so many kibbutz members were
fortunate to hear Rav Lasri. The initial meeting with kibbutz
members is always difficult.
Rav Lasri's description follows:
They usually come and sit in the back of the hall, close to
the exit or they stand and sort of look. Laughter is
something that really brings people closer together. "By the
way," he says, "it's also been found to heal. When the
kibbutz member facing me smiles, an unconscious connection is
formed between us. I weave humor into my lecture, and in the
middle of the speech, all those people that were standing in
order to be able to make a quick exit, sit down. When does it
happen? When I present a scenario that occurs in every home,
Polish, Hungarian or Sephardi."
Rav Lasri also offers a solution to the problem and touches
on other similar points. The ice melts slowly.
Does it always work? Does your smile always win them
over?
"I daven before every lecture for the siyata
deShmaya to help those people standing in the back, and
that G-d forbid not even one of them should leave the hall,
but that they should come closer to Judaism. Everything
depends on tefilloh and they need a lot of
tefillos.
Since they are the ideological ones, they initiate the
questions. I always bring Arachim brochures about academic
and spiritual lectures with me, and when I see someone who is
sincere and is looking to expand his horizons, I give him
one. If he refuses to come to a seminar, I invite him to one
of the special workshops that Arachim conducts around the
country. That's how we maintain a connection with them.
Tears in Their Eyes
Today Arachim receives requests to send lecturers to
kibbutzim. The lectures, of course, are academically
appropriate for the audience. One kibbutz brings another, he
says, and one friend brings another. That's how more and more
kibbutz members are hearing about Judaism.
Arachim is frequently asked to speak to large non-religious
crowds. The participants later tell their families, some of
whom live on kibbutzim. Other kibbutz members hear the
lectures firsthand while at work, outside of the kibbutz.
That's how the word spreads so quickly.
"You see a bald man or someone with white hair, `someone from
the old days,' who calls you aside and asks you to come speak
at the kibbutz. It's amazing. At first they say that they
noticed that we don't talk straight about Judaism and that's
why they've invited us. I go everywhere with my hat and
jacket. People are frequently shocked just by my appearance.
They stare at me and try to digest it. They start to listen
slowly, and after a few minutes, they begin to smile. Then
you see that they really become interested. In the past
people posed questions as a challenge. Now they ask questions
in order to understand and not to be defiant."
Do you encounter opposition today?
"Arachim organized seminars for young men on a kibbutz in a
building located a short distance from the rest of the
kibbutz buildings. In the evening while we were singing
together, two kibbutz members walked all the way over to us
in order to complain about the singing. They yelled about the
noise and other things. Another lecturer and I went out to
them and told them that we were responsible for the evening's
events and it was good that they informed us [that we were
disturbing] and that we would make sure to control the noise
level. Suddenly they saw that `those people' don't bite and
they began to ask us questions. We stayed to speak with them.
As a result, one of the two men came to an academic seminar,
became completely religious and left the kibbutz!"
Why is it that some people become religious but then
continue to live on a kibbutz?
"Because they built the kibbutz and they've already lived
there for many years, but frequently their kids leave. They
go out and build Jewish lives outside of the kibbutz."
"What's amazing about the kibbutzim," Rav Lasri says in
admiration, "is that families drag their relatives to the
seminars. The stir caused by the member that comes to Arachim
is something special.
You won't believe it, but today many people listen to Rav
Lasri's CDs and tapes, as well as to Torah classes and other
lectures. The many kibbutz members that want to obtain the
CDs, which are sold at cost, can testify to that.
How do you explain that kibbutz members listen to Jewish
tapes?
"Everything is done hesitantly at first, just like the
lectures and seminars. They listen quietly, in a closed part
of the house. But eventually the humor breaks all the
barriers and then they're not afraid to listen, even in
public."
Today Arachim runs seminars in the heart of the kibbutzim.
"One of the things that breaks them and that caused another
breakthrough in the kibbutzim," Rav Lasri says, "is the
singing on Friday nights in the communal dining hall. You can
see the kibbutz members, the workers that live on the
kibbutz, the residents that hear the singing, all approach to
watch. They see the amazing family unity, notice the
beautiful atmosphere [and] when they see all of this you can
see the tears in their eyes. It's a beautiful sight."
It is for this reason that Arachim invests so much into its
kibbutz programs. There is also another reason: kibbutzim are
particularly dear to the director of Arachim, Rav Yosef
Valis. Rav Valis therefore decided that additional resources
should be directed to the kibbutzim as he himself became
religious many years earlier. Rav Valis therefore appreciates
the significance of the movement occurring on the kibbutzim
now, "veheishiv lev ovos al bonim," which results,
many times in "veleiv bonim al avosom."
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