Parashat Emor 5768

When I was seventeen years old, I stepped off a plane and onto Israel's soil for the first time. This simple contact between foot and ground took my breath away. When I arrived at the dorm of Alexander Muss High School in Israel, our counselor jokingly asked me, "Did you kiss the ground when you landed?" My soul would have none of the joke. "I should have," I felt myself cry inside.

This week's Torah portion, Parashat Emor, exclaims, "Adonai spoke to Moses, saying: Speak to the Israelite people and say to them: These are My fixed times, the fixed times of Adonai, which you shall proclaim as sacred occasions" (Leviticus 23:1-2). Parashat Emor describes the sacred festivals outlined by our Torah. I believe it is wonderfully fitting that it is during this very week in which Torah describes our fixed calendrical celebrations that we celebrate two holy-days of modern creation: Yom HaZikaron and Yom Ha'azmaut, Israeli Remembrance Day and Israeli Independence Day. For Jews in Israel, these holidays set a national scene: A day of communal mourning followed by a day of communal celebration, days which are marked by the sounding of sirens, by somber ceremonies, by private memories, and by family gatherings.

When I was a junior in college, I studied abroad in Israel. On Yom Ha'azmaut, I took a bus from Hebrew University into the center of Jerusalem. As the bus wound its way into the city, I was excited. The curious college student thought: I wonder what Independence Day in Israel looks like? I stepped off the bus and was immediately covered in silly string, which seemed to be pouring out of the cans of Israeli teens running everywhere. The streets, the crowds, the sidewalks, the storefronts-everyone, everything-was covered in silly string. The streets were alive. This was no time for passive observation. I bought two cans of silly string from a passing merchant. I began spraying the strangers around me, laughing in disbelief. This day had become my Independence Day.

My partner Tali, who is Israeli, tells me stories of her own experiences of Yom Ha'azmaut growing up. She explains that on Yom Ha'azmaut, every patch of Israel's available grass, from public parks to roadway medians, is claimed by an Israeli family engaging in the Israeli national pastime, mangel or barbeque. Families roast meats, eat hummus, play soccer; radios play and children nap on spread out blankets.

Yes, Parashat Emor carefully outlines the rhythm of Shabbatot and festivals, of holy days and agricultural cycles, but our modern day Jewish calendar reminds us that Torah is a living document, one which is made richer by our own ongoing Jewish experiences. May this Shabbat be one in which your heart is turned eastward and your prayers offered toward Jerusalem. Who knows, maybe this is the excuse you've been looking for to have a family picnic!