Israelis Need Some Pampering [Inbox / Issue 744]

Contrary to what the author of the Lifetakes about the level of materialism available in Israel today might think, having access to creature comforts like a choice of laundry detergent or ice cream flavors does not have to detract from a person’s potential spirituality. Perhaps Shifra Seidman would have a different perspective if she actually lived in Israel instead of just dropping by for a summer wedding. Perhaps she would appreciate that life in Eretz Yisrael is a big challenge for many reasons and we all need a little pampering in order to carry on.

Israel is populated by Jews who live in fear of rocket attacks and terrorism, struggle to make a parnassah and to raise their kids with good, sane values. I say, if the author is so keen on The Simple Life in a 50-square meter apartment, she is more than welcome to come here to live the life, not just talk the talk. And yeah, it would be interesting to see how focused she can stay on spiritual issues when the material ones are so overwhelming.

Here for 45 Years

(Ann Bar-Dov, Eshhar)

Am I Sacrificing — and Does It Matter? [Inbox / Issue 744]

After reading the Lifetakes written by the woman who was struck by the materialism around her — and then the dedication to Torah that she saw — as well as the sharply conflicting responses to the piece, I was reminded of the well-worn joke: Two men are arguing before the Rabbi. The Rabbi turns to one and says, “You’re right.” He turns to the other and says, “You’re right.” An observer declares, “They can’t both be right!” to which the Rabbi replies, “You’re also right!”

The author of this piece herself was clearly somewhat conflicted, and the article shows her progression from judgment to ayin tovah (or maybe somewhere in between). Don’t we all experience this from time to time? Our initial response is not something we are always proud of, and with a bit of contemplation, we see there is another perspective — that doesn’t always negate the original.

When I was just eight years old, I came to visit my sister, who was starting off in Israel. I remember that she used ketchup and yogurt in moderation, and she had no dryer. My mother and I squished into the so-called guestroom right off the kitchen, and every day I watched in awe, knowing that I wanted to live this simply myself one day.

Fast-forward 13 years to my first apartment in the Maalot Dafna area, which came with a furniture package — including a huge leather couch. I felt like I was living in the lap of luxury; kollel couples don’t have couches! And they certainly don’t buy ready-made pasta sauce or soy milk or vending machine products... But eventually, we did. Maybe the standards had changed, or maybe we weren’t really sacrificing?

But it made a huge impression on me when my brother came to visit from America and stayed in an apartment a few blocks away. My sister-in-law walked into our “humble” abode and said, “Wow, I guess our rental isn’t as bad as I thought — I see your walls also aren’t freshly painted and you don’t have real light fixtures either.”

I didn’t mind; it actually made me feel like more of a kollel wife to hear that.

So was I sacrificing or not?

And was that the determining factor in whether or not we were living a true kollel life?

Today, my walls are still not freshly painted and we don’t have normal light fixtures; plain bulbs are enough for us. Yet we do go out to eat more often than my siblings in Lakewood, and I think our vacations are actually more expensive than theirs, even though our family is half the size. Maybe we need it more because we are being so moser nefesh on the light fixtures, I don’t know.

Some of the younger couples moving in are in apartments a quarter the size of my shanah rishonah place, with a Shabbos table that could barely fit our challah board; others are in renovated, low-floor homes with painted walls, beautiful light fixtures, and no doubt a brand-new dryer, too. Some are even living in villas and driving cars (for the record, we do have a car — a well-earned product of being here more than ten years).

Is it hard for them to live here? Do they miss their families, or are they maybe even here to get away from them? Is the husband a masmid, a batlan, or somewhere in between? Is the wife’s sheitel a little too long for our neighborhood, or several inches shorter than her friends’ are back in the US?

There are many ways to sacrifice and there are many ways to shteig. Like the author, we are all outsiders looking in, judging only from what we can see. The second letter writer would be fooling herself in thinking that every couple who comes is living a high Torah standard, and the first would be mistaken to assume that everyone is schlepping their carriage up four flights of stairs.

So, is it possible that you’re both right?

M.K., Jerusalem

Divorce Is a Symptom [MatchQuest / Issue 743]

Divorce among newlyweds is on the rise, but divorce is just the symptom of a much bigger problem that I have seen as a shadchan in the dating world. People are more focused on marrying a “status” than a “person.”

I recently spoke to a father of a girl who I was trying to set up with an excellent working boy. He all but said to me, “It would be embarrassing for my daughter to get engaged to a working boy.” He wasn’t even talking about getting married — he was referring to the moment his daughter gets engaged, when people heard that the chassan is not in learning: it would minimize the kavod and nachas that they would have otherwise felt. And I know of girls who aren’t dating working boys because the “best boys” are in yeshivah. To a certain extent, it’s not about the value of a learning boy, but rather how it seems, the status it gives the boy and the girl who marries him.

Everyone wants people to look at their spouse and say, “Wow! You are so lucky!” There is something we all wish our spouse had that will somehow signify that we have made it. It could be the top learner, the beauty queen, the yichusdig family, or the wealthy in-laws.

Everyone has their list of the preconceived image of what they will marry. People are more focused on the “what” than the “who” — what yeshivah/seminary are they in; what is their yichus; what is their family background; what will their parents contribute; what camps did they go to — instead of focusing on who is this person, do they have good middos, will they make a good father/mother/spouse/confidant and best friend. How do they treat me and others? How did I feel on the date? Did they bring out the best in me?

The yeshivah or seminary, the family, the background, the money, the looks, their height, their weight and their profession do not define the person. They certainly influence the person, but they do not define them. They do not make the person.

Are you marrying the person that everyone else is saying you should want to marry? Or are you marrying the person who is for you? I often hear girls complain, “Well, my friends all married these kinds of guys, so why should I settle?”

Marry someone great! Someone amazing! For you. Your spouse may not be the same as your friend’s spouse, and he or she may not be what you always envisioned. But when you are making your list of what your spouse should have, ask yourself: am I simply expressing a preference, or am I saying this is an indicator that this is the person Hashem decreed for me?

May everyone find their zivug, at the right time, with clarity, simchah and most importantly, emunah.

Raquel Betesh

Baltimore, MD

Finding My Own Way [Words Unspoken / Issue 742]

My experience echoed that of the “non-ideal” Bais Yaakov student who wrote a Words Unspoken about how her education led her to feel that her qualities had no place in the ideal Jewish woman. I was raised to never disrespect teachers, and I never did, no matter how much I might disagree with them. But many of my morahs sensed there was something “different” about me, my quiet refusal to adopt the preferred mold. My parents ensured that I would maintain my own sense of identity and free thought, despite the morahs’ insistence that their way was the only way.

I was speaking with another set of parents over Yom Tov, and the conversation came up about the expectation of conformity in many of our schools. We accept that it is rare to find an establishment that can educate without demanding subjugation of self and of mesorah, and know that as parents, we must make it our role to teach our children our ways, even if the teachers disapprove.

There is more than one way to be a good Jew, as long as the parents follow a recognized rabbinically valid mesorah.

Lea Pavel

A Peek into My Life [Where She Shines / Issue 738]

I want to run over to Ariella Schiller’s house right now and give her the biggest hug! Thank you, thank you, thank you for telling my story. I was laughing and crying throughout the entire read. Laughing, because I am Tami — the perfectionist PA giving her all to a new job — and my husband is Daniel.

It was hysterical to see someone peeking into my life and writing about it. And I was crying because I, like Tami, also had to struggle with a big decision regarding personal and professional success versus its price. Like Tami, I still struggle with how the world doesn’t and can’t really understand. I know that many people might think I am wasting my G-d-given talents, but I looked long and hard at the direction I was taking, and I was scared of what kind of person I would become. All greatness has a price, so I left that one and chose what I hope is greatness of a different kind.

But the fact is, all of our best decisions are also our hardest — so Ariella, I can’t thank you enough for reminding me why I do what I do.

Sarah Nadoff

P.S. Can Tami, myself and all other over-achiever mommies in Jerusalem make up to meet with the kiddies at our own park somewhere? We can discuss our menus, Excel sheets, and work-life balance tips freely! No being intimidated allowed!

Correction

Last week’s inbox included a letter that treated hallowed minhagei Yisrael as a platform for frivolity. The letter should not have been included and Mishpacha regrets the oversight.

The Rabbinic Board

(Originally featured in Family First, Issue 745)