Highlights from September 2017 at URJ Heller High

Rosh HaShana  5778

By Annabella Kliman,   11^th grade,    Sacramento

Our stay at Kibbutz Yahel was a restful, yet restless experience.  Spending Rosh Hashana in Israel was not at all what I had imagined but still a more than lovely experience. It was nothing like what I had expected.

I was anticipating Rosh Hashana to be an important time with long religious services that are stressed and planned out months in advance, yet, if anything, it was the opposite.  Though still educational and heartwarming, Rosh Hashana wasn't a religious holiday. At home, ever since I joined my temple, I haven't missed a Rosh Hashana service. This is where all of my friends that are Jewish, but didn't practice, would gather to listen to the shofar and would come again in a little over a week.  They would then disappear until next Rosh Hashana. Here, our group was significantly larger than the rest of the people attending the service. We gathered in a small room with kibbutz members in a circle shape so that we could easily see each and every companion in the room. We later learned that this was a Safardic style of prayer. They even had and read from Ashkenazi and Safardic style Torahs the next day. 

We all seemed to feel a connection with each other. The Erev Rosh Hashana service was short and calming. It was similar to a Friday night Shabbat service at home as in not everyone came but it was still a nice relaxing service. Afterwards, we joined everyone in the dining hall for a Rosh Hashana seder (something I didn't even know existed) and a nice meal. 

Later that night, as we sat in a circle and exchanged our gifts for the "Secret Shana", we each shared what we appreciate about one another.  As we did the first night on Rabbi Loren Sykes’s roof and went from person to person to get to know each other better, but this time we said something about someone else, we lit a candle for them, and instead of tossing a ball of yarn to them, we gave them a meaningful gift. 

We woke up and got dressed in excitement for another service. Though this one was significantly longer, we all got the chance to participate in it.  We could do an aliyah, open the arc, etc.

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A Visit to the Southern Temple Mount Excavations

by Shayna Codd,   11^th grade,   Cincinnati

The Sadducees live in the upper city of Jerusalem. They were usually pretty wealthy. We knew this because of their roofs which were red. The main material in their homes were plaster and colored tile. Each different color of tile has to be imported from different parts of the world. The art in the homes were Jewish but without that you had no indication that they were Jewish and had assimilated to Roman. 

The steps that each oleh regel (pilgrim) went through before entering the Beit Hamikdash were the southern steps. The holidays on which they did this were Sukot, Pesach, and Shavuot. When going up the steps people would say prayers and pay a 1/2 shekel. The importance of this place for the Jewish people is that it is a holy site for Jews and it makes people feel more connected to Judaism because of that. This means that today we have to try to remember the Beit Hamikdash and respect it as a holy site. 

Being on the southern steps was an interesting experience. It's hard to imagine people being there so many years ago, however, you feel a sort of deja vu being there. This is because of something called collective memory. That we as a whole were there and you can definitely feel that when walking up the steps.

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Students visit model of Jerusalem in the Second Temple Period at Israel Museum

Video filmed and edited by Lillian Ross,   10^th grade,    New York

Second Temple Model

By Lilllian Ross,     10^th grade,     New York

Jerusalem during the Roman period was a very spiritual location for the Jews. It was a very sacred place and the Temple was the meeting place for the Sanhedrin who were the assembly of rabbis for Israel. The four sects of Judaism were the Pharisees, Sadducees, Essenes and Zealots. On the tiyul, we walked around the museum and stopped at multiple places. One included the Second Temple Model which is very special to the museum. In addition, we learned the importance of different rulers at the time. We acted out the different groups of Jews during the Second Temple Period. Overall, the trip was very educational and important to our understanding of the Second Temple period.

Heller High Jewish History Teachers Discuss Their Lives in Israel

As recounted by David Alon

One of the interesting things that we the Heller High Jewish history teachers have in common is that we all made Aliyah from the U.S. while in our twenties.  Never-the-less, we each took a different path to arriving in Israel and adjusting to our new lives in the Jewish state.

This week our students had a unique opportunity to hear the four of us speak in a panel discussion about our respective experiences.  For me personally, this was quite gratifying since I had thought about putting together this activity for a few years.  My colleagues and I are so busy with our everyday lives, that we don't often get the chance to simply talk candidly about what it was like to make Aliyah.  In fact, I was more intrigued about hearing what my fellow Jewish history teachers had to say than hearing myself talk.  Even though we've been acquainted for a long time, I was surprised to find out things about my friends and co-workers that I didn't know before.

None of this would have been possible without the direct participation of the Heller High students.  We asked them to submit questions in advance so we could gauge what subjects were of interest, and then based the panel discussion off of these queries.  The biggest challenge for us teachers was to stick to the time limit for each response, otherwise none of us would have shut up and we would have been there all day. (We even had a stop watch make us be concise!)

The first question posed was "How did your relationship with your family in the states change when you made Aliyah?"  Although each of us had a slightly different answer, there was a common theme of dealing with being so far away.  There's no question that this is a difficult issue for us that we are still figuring out.  My colleague Evan Wertheim and I pointed out that our spouses and our young children have indeed become our immediate family here in Israel, so that is something to consider as well.  My other colleague Shira Kleinman gave a thoughtful explanation of how her group of close friends has become her support network and very much her family.

Similarly, Evan and I were asked "What does it mean to raise your children as first generation Israelis?"  Evan was proud to remark that his two-and-a-half-year-old son can speak three languages (Hebrew, English, and Arabic from a bi-lingual nursery school).  I described to the students that my two daughters (one five years old and the other nine months old) will grow up as native Israelis and native Hebrew speakers who regard being Jewish as more of their national and cultural identity, more so than I did growing up in America.

Regarding Jewish identity, one question that was asked was "How has your observance of Judaism changed since coming to Israel?"  This might have been the toughest question for us, because it really made us dig deep into our Jewish souls and search for the right thing to say.  One thing that seems clear, based on our respective answers to this question, is that none of us are in the same place religiously where we started out in.  Each of us in our own way has given serious thought to what being religiously observant means when living in Israel as opposed to the diaspora.  Shira gave an outstanding explanation of how kashrut and Shabbat took on a new meaning for her since moving to Israel.  Another member of the faculty, Josh Scharff, explained how in Israel he doesn't have to explain why he can't come to baseball practice on Yom Kippur.  I replied that although I was attracted to Israel's secular Jewish culture in the beginning, my family ended up joining the Reform synagogue in my town Mevesseret Zion.

Likewise, another question that made us think long and hard for the right thing to say was, "if your views on the Arab-Israeli conflict changed or were enhanced by living in Israel?"  Of course we all desire peace, but there's no doubt that each of us has a much deeper and more nuanced understanding of the situation by virtue of just living here.  Evan said it best when he stated in response that if you go through years of your life without ever changing your views periodically, then you're not reading and listening to enough diverse opinions.

Several students submitted questions about the army in Israeli society which provoked interesting responses.  Josh, Shira, and Evan spoke of the importance of the IDF despite the fact they were not drafted.  Each in their own way spoke of integrating into Israeli society, and how their Israeli friends admired them for making Aliyah without any negative attitudes about arriving too late to enlist.  I myself spent six months in Tzahal at the age of 27-28, being trained as part of an artillery crew.  For me, there's no question that my army service played a significant role in my integration into society.  I explained that although I didn't particularly enjoy every minute of it, I felt that I was doing something important for the Jewish people, and that I wanted be able to tell my kids that I was in the army just like they will be some day.

Of all the questions, the one that seemed to bring out the most unified response among the four of us was, "What was your experience like learning Hebrew?"  We all stressed the absolute importance of the Hebrew language, not only for living in Israel, but more importantly for Jewish identity.  This was the one thing we seemed to agree on more than anything else, how central knowing Hebrew is to strengthening one's Jewish identity.  Each of us had to work really hard to become mostly fluent, and there's no doubt that acquiring proficiency was perhaps the biggest challenge for all of us.

Of course we all have this duel Israeli-American identity going on in our heads, so one question that got us thinking was, "If you were asked to choose only one, would you consider/define yourself as American or Israeli?"  Unlike the previous question about Hebrew that we all had the same general reply to, this time there was room for disagreement.  Although we have each retained some elements of American culture (food, slang, pop culture, sports teams, etc.) we each talked about having different feelings about our American upbringing.  Josh, in particular spoke of his strong American patriotism and his emotional reaction to hearing the Star Spangled Banner and HaTikva.  Whereas Evan and I asserted that there's no question that we define ourselves as Israeli first, Josh made a captivating comment that more than anything, he sees himself as a Jew.

Perhaps the most difficult question for us to grapple with was, "Did you ever regret the move, or was there ever a moment when you felt you were not a part of Israeli society yet?"  Each of us had anecdotes about the struggles of being a new immigrant, but on a whole we recounted that native Israelis were extremely welcoming and proud of our decision to make Aliyah.  Shira remarked that Israelis would hear her American accent and try to speak to her in English, to which she immediately replied in Hebrew.  Evan stated emphatically that it's not in his nature to live a life of regrets, and so he doesn't tend to look back and ask if things could have turned out differently.  Myself, I've been living here in Israel for almost 14 years, I'm married to a native Israeli with two sabra daughters.  I'm grateful for every moment I've had in this incredibly complicated, unbelievably beautiful, and constant drama of a country.  I can't wait to do this panel again next semester!

Poland Pilgrimage Spring 2017

Shtetl Life in Tykocin and memorial in the Łopuchowo Forest

by Melissa Scianimanico,   11^th grade,   Louisville KY

Modern Tykocin exists as an average, small Christian village in north-eastern Poland; a tall Cross marks the middle of the main road and quaint, red-roofed houses stamp themselves to the groomed grass, yet beneath the bland facade, hides a rich and diverse Jewish history. Tykocin stands as a symbol for what used to be; a symbol for Judaism, and thriving Jewish shtetl life. Shtetls like Tykocin are small, Jewish towns with a unique socio-cultural communal pattern, that existed in Russia and Poland during the 19th and early 20th centuries.

Interior of the restored Tykocin Synagogue with words of Hebrew prayers written on the walls. 

Although Tykocin is no longer home to thousands of Jews, fragments of its former Jewish life still stand out. For example, adjacent to a small white house, with a cross in the window and blooming flowers in the garden, stands a synagogue.  In the sanctuary, brilliantly colored paintings, including the text of prayers, line the walls and shed light on the devoted kehila kedosha that inhabited the village for centuries. In order for a synagogue to not only exist but be as alluring as the Tykocin synagogue, there must be respect for the Jewish community. Therefore, this synagogue not only confirms that Jewish life thrived, but that Jews peacefully coexisted among the other faiths and ethnicities in the area. 

In addition, true to most shtetl life, the Jews were also active economically in Tykocin. While an aspect of Tykocin, like its market square is less glamorous and more commonplace than the large synagogue, it still offers relevance regarding Jewish life in the shtetl. The market square was a place rich with culture; Jews earned a meager living in the marketplace, but for them it was enough. They were free to be Jewish while synchronously immersing themselves in the food, clothing, and attitude of their community. Yet, many Jews earned a living outside of the market. It is important to recognize that the shtetl was not uniform; there was a vast diversity of ideas and experiences that characterized these communities. 

As we visited Tykocin, we were walking on the lives that used to be. We stepped on their streets, sat in their market square, and even prayed within the walls of their synagogue. Yet, we took the aforementioned to a literal level, when we visited the cemetery. The cemetery was a somewhat paradoxical experience for me. Yes, it represents death, but in a way illustrates the thriving Jewish community that inhabited Tykocin. For there to be a Jewish cemetery there must have been a flourishing Jewish community, therefore, the cemetery is an apt depiction of the generations of Jewish life that dwelled in Tykocin for centuries. 

Tykocin Jewish cemetary in a state of disrepait

Unfortunately, not all of the Tykocin Jews made it to the cemetery and had the opportunity to peacefully end their lives. Five miles west of the village stands a forest; it is filled with towering trees and sporadic tufts of grass, the pinnacle of innocent wilderness. Yet, on August 25, 1941, the Łopuchowo forest, with its flowers and soaring birds, became a place of mass destruction and death. That summer morning the German SS ordered all the Jews in Tykocin to gather in the market square, the center of life, in order to be relocated to a nearby Ghetto. A deceived 1,400 people were soon seized from the square and from life as they knew it, only to be transported to their death. The Jews of Tykocin were marched on foot down the winding, wooded path. Even in the peak of their death, with guns pointed to their heads and an open pit at their feet the Jews could bask in the streams of sun that poked through the trees, and admire the prickle of grass on their ankles. But any trace of  life and humanity was ravished as women, children and men watched their loved ones fall to their death, limbs muddled with their neighbors. 

Although the fate of Tykocin ended in destruction it is pertinent to remember the lives that thrives before; the lives in the shtetl.

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Lublin and Majdanek

by Leah Hurwitz,   11^th grade,   Chicago

In our class meeting the night before, David told us that there is nothing I can say to prepare you guys for what you will be seeing tomorrow. That is when I knew that the day ahead of us will be extremely challenging. Before bed, my roommate and I discussed our fears, how we thought we would react, what we thought we would see. I tried so hard to ready myself for seeing a concentration camp in real life. Much of my life, I have learned about the Shoah, whether it was at school, Sunday school, or through my own research. The stories I have learned, movies I have watched and pictures I have seen have taken place in a concentration camp. There was a lot of buildup and anticipation but there was nothing I could’ve done to prepare myself.

The "Jew Gate" at the entrance to Lublin's walled old city where Jews resided in the Middle Ages

            The day started off in Lublin, an old city with a vibrant Jewish history. Upon arriving, we learned a bit about the history of Lublin and then were set free to explore the city. After grabbing a coffee at a local shop, we walked around admiring the charm and beauty. We stumbled upon a restaurant called the Jewish Restaurant. Obviously, this was not owned by Jews but was made for the Jews (i.e. Jewish tourism).  My friends and I discussed whether we thought this was appropriate; having a “Jewish restaurant” even though it isn’t owned by Jews and authentic. On the other hand, they are trying to bring back Jewish culture into their society. It is there way of acknowledging that there was once a Jewish community there?

            The rest of the morning was spent learning at the renowned Sages of Lublin Yeshiva. We took a quick bus ride to one of the most prestigious Yeshiva’s when it was in use in the 1930s. They had not only classrooms but dormitories, dining halls, and other things that made it modern and practical. While only open from 1930 to 1939, it provided the Jewish world with many excellent scholars. It was a burst of Jewish scholarship. At the opening ceremony, thousands showed up; both Jews and non-Jews alike. The Polish neighbors wanted to show their support for the Yeshiva. This shows that the Jewish people in Lublin had very good relations with the Poles and they were acculturated into their society. In the Beit Knesset, with our principal Rabbi Loren Sykes, we studied a page of Talmud. We debated whether learning is more important than action. During our discussion, I understood what it was like to be a student at this Yeshiva.

           

The large Beit Midrash at the renowned Sages of Lublin Yeshiva

        From Lublin, we had a strikingly short drive to Majdanek, a death and concentration camp. Walking around at Majdanek was one of the hardest thing I have ever done. I saw were thousands lived, worked, and died. Walking into the different barracks, we saw many different horrible things. In one of the barracks, there were thousand and thousands of shoes. This showed me just how many people were killed. Visualizing six million people is not possible for me. But seeing the shoes gave a demonstration of just how many were killed during the Holocaust. To add on to that, those weren’t even all of the shoes of the Holocaust victims. The memorial at Majdanek was the hardest part of the whole day. Seeing a huge pile of ashes was horrific and chilling. It struck me to my core. Following the testimony of a Majdanek survivor, we got a better understanding of the atrocities that occurred at Majdanek. The most rewarding part of the day was walking out of Majdanek. With me, I carried with me the memory of all of the innocent people murdered there. I carried with me the memory of all of the owners of the shoes. I carried with me the memory of all of the peoples who ashes were being held at Majdanek. I walked out of Majdanek for all of those who couldn’t.

Crematoria building at the Majdanek Concentration Camp in Lublin, Poland

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                              Kazimierz:  Jewish Krakow

   by Hannah Marcus,   11th grade,    California

          The neighborhood of Kazimierz within the city of Krakow, known as the “Jewish Quarter”, houses synagogues, a Jewish cemetery, and a number of Jewish shops and restaurants. Yet few, if any, Jews remain today. Due to the Holocaust, the rich Jewish life within Krakow was all but wiped out, and most Jewish sites there today are simply replicas of their former selves. Our group visited multiple shuls around the neighborhood of Kazimierz in order to gain an understanding of Jewish life in Krakow before the Holocaust.

          The first shul we went to was the Altshul, or “old shul”, built in the 15th century. The Altshul has beautiful Gothic-style architecture, and while it was ransacked during the Holocaust and is no longer in use as a synagogue, it has been restored and made into a museum housing exhibits on Krakow’s past Jewish life. I really enjoyed seeing this synagogue, both for the architecture and the exhibits. However, it was difficult to imagine people praying in it because it has been so museum-ified.

Interior of the Altshul in Krakow's Jewish quarter Kazimierz.  Ceiling is built in the gothic style.       

          Our next destination was the Ramu Synagogue (also known as the Remah synagogue), named after Rabbi Moshe Isserles, the Ramu. In the 16th century, the Ramu wrote and published a book detailing and solidifying Ashkenazi customs for following halacha. Unlucky for him, a very similar book of Sefardi halachic customs, Rabbi Yosef Karo’s Shulchan Aruch ('the set table'), was published before the Ramu could publish his version. Both the Shulchan Aruch and the Ramu’s book the "Mapa" (meaning 'table cloth') are still relevant, however, because Ashkenazi and Sefardi Jews have slightly different traditions and rules. Rabbi Moshe Isserles lived in Krakow, and this synagogue is named after him to recognize his contribution to the Jewish body of texts regarding halacha. The Ramu synagogue is one of the few in Krakow that is still operational today as a house of worship, and it holds weekly services for the small Jewish community remaining in Krakow.

Remu Synagogue in Krakow's Jewish quarter 

          After the Ramu synagogue we toured the Tempel synagogue. This synagogue was a “Reform” synagogue in the 1860s when it was built, although today we would describe it more as Modern Orthodox. The Tempel synagogue gets its name from the decorations of the ark, which is designed to look like the Beit HaMikdash in Jerusalem. Out of all the synagogues we visited, I liked this one’s decor the most. The ceiling and walls were adorned with gold, and the overall design and structure were very visually appealing.

Bima of the Tempel Synagogue in Krakow

          The final two synagogues of the morning were opposites in a way. One, the Kupa synagogue, is also known as the poor man’s synagogue. A donation of 200 zloty during the 17^th century allowed it to finish construction. The Kupa synagogue was created for those in the community who did not have a synagogue of their own. On the walls and ceiling of this synagogue, there are paintings of various locations in Israel as well as scenes from the Tanakh. In contrast to the Kupa synagogue, which was founded for poorer people off of charity, the Izaak synagogue was founded by a rich man named Isaak Jakubowicz in the 1600s. The Izaak synagogue thus has the nickname of the rich man’s synagogue. According to a Krakow legend, Izaak Jacubowicz had a dream that treasure was buried under the famous Charles Bridge in Prague, so he travelled all the way to there and attempted to dig it up, only to find that the treasure had been in his backyard all along. Although this fable is not necessarily true, it is a good example of how popular urban myths were in the Krakow Jewish community whether it was the poor man’s or the rich man’s synagogue.

          Overall, the morning we spent touring Krakow shuls was incredibly enlightening and enjoyable. However, I felt that there was something missing from each synagogue - a community to pray in it. The synagogues have been restored since they were desecrated in the Holocaust, and it’s a little sad to think that the majority of them are no longer in use. These synagogues are shells of their formal selves, and while each provides an insight into Jewish life before the Holocaust, it is also a reminder of how much was truly lost.

Mysticism in Tzfat

by Ethan Wellerstein,  11^th grade,   CA

The Kabbalists were a unique group of Jews that were obsessed with the bringing of the Mashiach. They believed that if all Jews strictly adhered to the same Halacha, the Mashiach would come. This was the goal of Rabbi Yosef Karo with his book, the Shulchan Aruch, or The Set Table. This was a complete guide to Sephardic Halacha and was meant to set Jewish Law in stone. The Kabbalist rabbis tried to bring themselves closer to God by positioning themselves on one of the highest points in Israel. Rabbi Luria and Moshe Cordovero also started teaching the ideas of Kabbalah, in hopes that this, combined with the Halacha of Rabbi Yosef Karo could trigger the Messianic Age.

In Judaism, it is thought that after a great tragedy, the Mashiach will appear and the Jewish people will return to Eretz Yisrael. After the destruction of the Second Temple, for example, Bar Kochba arose and was thought to have been the Mashiach by many, including Rabbi Akiva. This same phenomena occurred after the Chmielnitzki Massacres in 1648. This led to many Jews believing that Shabbatai Zvi was the Mashiach, sent to fulfill God’s promise. And the expulsion of the Jews from Spain proved no different. This ended the Jewish Golden Age and forced Jews to flee the country that many of them saw as home. This tragedy prompted many Jewish scholars to believe in the imminent coming of the Mashiach, thus they tried to trigger this event in any way possible. This caused this group of rabbis to move back to Israel and try many new methods to bring about the Messianic Age.

Interior of the Yosef Karo Synagogue in Tzfat

Tzfat is an incredible place. The architecture is beautiful and has the effect of transporting one back in time. The cobbled paths, narrow walkways and rustic synagogue made me feel like I was in a different era. The people there were mostly shopkeepers but I did see several Chassidim in the city, going about life as usual. Almost all of the buildings had the same off white color and pale blue accents. This looked beautiful during the sunset and reflected the calm nature of this place.

Before Yosef Karo wrote the Shulchan Aruch in the early 1500s, Halacha was often debated over and differed from group to group. Since observance of the mitzvoth was the most important thing for Jews during the time in the Diaspora, it would make sense that they should all have a universal and agreed upon set of laws. This would help keep the Jewish people united, despite the large distances between them, and hopefully bring about the Messianic Age. As David mentioned, the Halacha was like a chessboard, and the pieces were frequently being moved around. Then, Rabbi Yosef Karo covered the board with the Shulchan Aruch. This finalized set of Halacha was according to Sephardic tradition ended most Halachic debates.

Kabbalat Shabbat was a tradition that was created by the men living in Tzfat in the 16th century. When they were in the fields, they wanted to welcome in the Sabbath bride from where they were, without having to go back to the Synagogue to pray. Shlomo HaLevi Alkabetz wrote L’Cha Dodi, a tune welcoming the Sabbath Bride, which today has over 2,000 melodies. This tradition of Kabbalat Shabbat started in Tzfat and quickly spread all over the Jewish world.

Beit HaKnesset Ha Ari in Tzfat named for 16th century kabbalistic rabbi Yitzhak Luria

Today, Kabbalah is not incredibly important to Reform Jewish life too. The basic rules for learning about Kabbalah restrict most Jews from even attempting to study it. It is meant to be a way to learn the secrets of the Torah and read in between the lines of the word of God. I believe that some Jews might be able to find a way to apply this to everyday Judaism and life or find it to be genuinely interesting. But as for me, I’m content with good ol’ vanilla Judaism. I think that people should learn about what they want to. If Madonna wants to study it, why not let her. We live in a time when exploring other cultures and faiths is more possible than ever, and I believe it should be encouraged and open for all who express a genuine interest.

Oral Law Tiyul:  Beit Shaarim & Beit Alpha

   By Evie Kerner,    11^th grade,    Dallas

There was a time in 200 CE

The Sanhedrin ran with no place to call home

There only chance was to move all around

And just for the future of the Mishnah too

Then one night they decided that

The Mishnah was to be written down

Oral law was passed ledor vedor

But stood no chance without Yehuda Hannasi

Rabbis said, “ There is no future without teshiva

They promised that they’d argue for future plans

And ever since that day…

I am a Jew in Israel

Usually hanging out with the haza’’l

And when we’re bored we write halecha

Always writing oral law

Write read learn teach the Mishnah

Write read learn teach from all of talmidim

Jews prospered through time from assimilation

And now we’ve got the oral laws

In tradition views we came with written law on Sinai to

But modernists say different in gemura

One says we were there on Sinai receiving all our laws

Ten commandments and oral law too

And the modern cap says everything was developed

Oral law developed and written down too

Soon enough we learned our memories

Peacefully in diaspora we lived as Jews

And ever since olden days…

I am a Jew in Israel

Usually hanging out with the haza’’l

And when we’re bored we write halecha

Always writing oral law

Write read learn teach the Mishnah

Write read learn teach from all of talmidim

Jews prospered through time from assimilation

And now we’ve got the oral laws

70 rabbis, first generation all in yaveh

Making calendars

Legislate and judiciary government

Is now the way for the Jews future

Forever with oral law…

And for always I thank Sanhedrin…

I am a Jew in Israel

Usually hanging out with the haza’’l

And when we’re bored we write halecha

Always writing oral law

Write read learn teach the Mishnah

Write read learn teach from all of talmidim

Jews prospered through time from assimilation

And now we’ve got the oral laws

The Bar Kochba Revolt Tiyul

By Hannah Eggleston,    11^th grade,     Virginia

The Bar Kochba Revolt of the Second Century differed from the Great Revolt of the year 70 CE in many ways.  For one, during the Great Revolt there was little unity.  Not everyone was behind the idea and not everyone wanted to revolt.  During the Bar Kochba Revolt, however, people were unified behind an idea and supported a revolt.  An example of this is the coins that were minted during this period, which was a form of rebellion demonstrating that the Jews didn’t agree with the current rule.  Another reason these two revolts differ is the army and strategy.  The Great Revolt wasn’t really an army; it was just the zealots fighting the Romans.  They also lacked real strategy.  The Bar Kochba Revolt, however, was more unified as a fighting force and used a specific strategy to accomplish their goals.   Finally, the Great Revolt lacked real leadership.  The Bar Kochba Revolt had a leader, and the entire revolt was named after him.  He was a false-messiah, and for a long time rabbis refused to acknowledge him – when they did, they renamed him Bar Koziba, or “Son of Disappointment”.  Bar Kochba lead the revolt against the Romans from 132-135 when the Jews were unable to suppress their nationalism.

Roman Amphitheater in Beit Guvrin National Park

During the Bar Kochba revolt, the Jews were heavily reliant on underground caves and tunnels.  These tunnels and caves were extensive, and were a great place for the Jewish people to wait out their attackers.  They could stay in these tunnels for long periods of time, popping out and surprise attacking the Romans with guerrilla tactics.  It was essentially a giant game of whack-a-mole – the Jews would appear and attack the Romans and then retreat to their caves.  It was difficult for the Romans to follow Bar Kochba and his followers because their bulky armor made it difficult for them to fit through the tunnels and forced them to follow each other single file.  Because of this and their tactics, the Jews were able to hold out against the Romans for three years.

            I personally think that the Bar Kochba Revolt was justified.  The Jews couldn’t get rid of their sense of nationalism, and felt that the only way to fight for it was to start a rebellion.  Even the rabbis agreed that revolting was the only way to go.  The Romans were oppressing the Jews and their beliefs, and the Jews were not okay with that.  They collectively agreed that revolting was the best option in terms of getting the Romans to understand their unhappiness.  Had I been in that situation, I would’ve joined the revolt as well.  It’s unknown whether or not the Bar Kochba Revolt lead to the Hadrianic decrees or whether the decrees led to the revolt, but either way, having your religion and culture taken away from you is incredibly upsetting, enough so to start a revolt.

            There are many ways to see the Bar Kochba Revolt from the point of view of the Romans.  For one, you can look at different Roman sources.  There are more Roman sources relating to the Bar Kochba Revolt than sources of any other origin, such as Jewish, early Christian, and archaeological.  The Romans were so perturbed by the behavior of the Jews in Israel because they didn’t understand their customs and didn’t understand how the Jews could be monotheistic and believe in only one god.  Romans, at this time, were still polytheistic and used their gods and goddesses to explain everything, including every day happenings.

            Rabbi Akiva is known as “our greatest sage”.  He divided all of the Talmudic study materials into six parts, or the “Six Orders of Mishna”.  He lived through the destruction of the Second Temple and studied for 24 years with 24,000 students, or so the midrash says.  Because of his devotion to Torah and how learning Torah affected both his personal and spiritual life, he refused to stop teaching Torah.  The Roman emperor Hadrian banned the study of Torah.  Rabbi Akiva was one of the ten martyred rabbis.  He was executed at Caesaria and was willing to die for Torah.  His last recorded words were those of the Sh’ma prayer, holding out the final “echad”.  These events are highly inspirational.  Although the study of Torah was forbidden, Rabbi Akiva was not willing to give up doing something that he completely believed in, even though he knew it would probably end with his death.  The Romans tried to tell him to stop, but they couldn’t take away how he felt no matter how much they tried.