Jerusalem—At the end of the yeshiva or seminary year in Israel, one often looks back on their experiences and tries to choose a highlight, a life-changing event that moved them and transformed them forever. For some in my Shana Alef at Lev HaTorah, it was the uplifting tefilot on Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur. For others, amazing tiyulim and shabatonim in Tzfat, the Golan Heights, the Judean Desert, Eilat. Others connected the most to the Shorashim trip to Poland, finding purpose moving forward after learning more about their past. For myself, however, there was a clear winner, and it was none of the above.
In the second half of my yeshiva year, I had already begun to make the decision to move to Israel. I underwent the overly complicated process of cancelling my YU registration, and I had already enrolled in Machon Lev, committing myself to at least another year in Israel, this time beginning my college education. However, I hadn’t really decided anything yet—I had just intellectually realized that it made the most sense to me. Visiting the US over Pesach further complicated the decision, reminding me how much I would be giving up by living in Israel, leaving behind my precious family and friends, and the amazing community that I’d grown up in. I returned to yeshiva that spring less sure than when I had left.
Throughout the month of Iyar, I grappled with the decision, spending Yom HaShoah, Yom Hazikaron, Yom Ha’atzmaut and Lag B’Omer mainly with the friends who I knew would mostly be returning to the US, and wondering if it would really make the most sense for me to remain in Israel without them. However, things very much clarified themselves on Yom Yerushalayim. Davening with thousands of other Jews, dancing through the streets with random strangers dressed exactly as I was, marching with flags through the Old City and screaming my guts out at a concert at the Kotel HaMa’aravi—I realized that day that even though I would be distancing myself from my friends and my community in Teaneck, I would be joining a new family instead. I knew that no matter how different my background, no matter what path I chose, if it would be in Israel, I would never be alone. And, thus, on Yom Yerushalayim 5772, I decided that I would be making aliyah.
Ever since then, Yom Yerushalayim has always been a very special day for me. Whether I’ve spent it davening at the Kotel with thousands of other Jews, danced through all parts of the Old City playing music on my guitar with Israeli friends, hearing shiurim from Rav Shlomo Aviner, or waiting on line for four hours to spend a fraction of that time on the Temple Mount on the day it was recaptured from Jordanian occupation, it’s a day that I know has changed my life, and I always celebrate it as such.
For this reason, I was beyond excited going into this year’s Yom Yerushalayim, celebrating the 50th year of its reunification. The knowledge that thousands of Israelis and foreigners would be pouring into my new home city on my favorite day of the year to celebrate my favorite holiday, and the humility that I, a new immigrant by most standards, felt being able to take part in such a big milestone, made me realize that this would be a celebration like no other.
My “Yovel Yerushalayim” celebrations actually began the Friday before Yom Yerushalayim, when a well-connected friend got me onto the very select invite list to Mayor Nir Barkat’s Yom Yerushalayim barbeque. Joining a few hundred of the Likud party’s top donors and activists, as well as most of their members of Knesset, and hearing their Jerusalem stories made me so proud to be part of this amazing city. I mean, where else in the world does the influential mayor of a country’s capital begin a speech to this important crowd by thanking God for Jerusalem, and telling stories of his life as a 7-year-old in the weeks and days before the Six-Day War? Political brownie points aside, one can’t help but be awed to have someone like this as their Mayor. Finishing his speech, Barkat then proceeded to join the musical act, a very mizrachi ensemble called the Revivo Project, on stage for their first number, much to the chagrin of the mostly elderly crowd, who began to ululate and dance in the aisles.
Aside from getting to meet very cool and important people, experience a genre of music I never intend to revisit and enjoy a tasty barbeque at 11:30 in the morning, my takeaway from this event cemented my understanding of the dual character of every celebration of Jerusalem—the dual motif of serious memories and gratitude, and happy and joyous celebrations—which set the tone for the following days of festivities.
In the days preceding Yom Yerushalayim, I was invited to join many of the World Mizrachi’s Mega Mission events in Jerusalem, including a Yaakov Shwekey concert, and a full day of panels and speeches from religious, governmental and community leaders about Jerusalem’s significance in our lives. This gave me a rare opportunity to meet several important celebrities and dignitaries, including Mayor Barkat (whom I spoke to no fewer than five times over the week of Yom Yerushalayim festivities); former Chief Rabbi Lord Sacks; and a personal hero of mine, Deputy Minister and former Ambassador Michael Oren. Also, equally meaningful was the opportunity to speak to Mizrachi participants from abroad and to hear their perspectives on Jerusalem’s special celebration. For some, like Congregation Keter Torah’s Rabbi Shalom Baum who was joining as a representative of the RCA, the trip and this unique Yom Yerushalayim were a chance to walk in the footsteps of the heroes who fought on the frontlines to free Jerusalem, and to fulfill the dreams of 2,000 years of yearning Jews. For others, such as the Goldstein family from Perth, Australia, the focus was not backwards, but forwards—they looked forward to telling their children, grandchildren and generations to follow how they were in Jerusalem on its historic 50th anniversary of reunification. And, there I was, in the middle of it all.
To listen to all of this, to be part of all of this amazing energy, before Yom Yerushalayim even began, got me into the proper mood and also reminded me how lucky I am to call this amazing city home, that I’m now part of its present and future, making history here every day.
Finally, after much build-up and anticipation, 28 Iyar arrived, and it was time to put aside my press badge and put on my white kippah srugah and take out my guitar. Leaving the political and foreign echelons I had explored in the days leading to Yom Yerushalayim, on this happy and holy day itself, there’d be no better place to spend it than on the streets with my fellow Jerusalemites and Israelis. After an inspiring shiur from Rosh Yeshiva Rav Yosef Zvi Rimon, a beautiful festive davening and chagiga at Machon Lev (including a musical cameo by yours truly), and a few hours of sleep, I took to the streets of Jerusalem with my tefilin and guitar in hand, ready for what I hoped would be a very special day.
And so it was: Joining over a thousand other Jews for a festive davening and a beautiful hallel at the Kotel. Visiting and taking in the incredible energy of a Breslov Yeshiva right in the middle of the Muslim Quarter. Playing music, dancing and singing “Yibaneh Hamikdash” (May the Temple Be Rebuilt) with random strangers in front of the exit from the Temple Mount. Davening Mincha at the Kotel Hakatan, a smaller stretch of the Western Wall that is actually closer to the Holies of Holies than the main plaza, usually inaccessible to Jews due to its location deep in the Muslim Quarter. Running into random friends and family, who had all come into Jerusalem to celebrate on her special day. Even winning a prize from the Shwarma stand where I bought lunch, a special Yom Yerushalayim souvenir—every moment was special, and I could feel the city herself celebrating along with us.
Yom Yerushalayim, for me, is always a day to celebrate how my new home is a city that unites all within her. This year, with all of the extra Jews who came in to celebrate, and all of the special events, the chag was taken to a new level. Between the activities before, during and after, and having the opportunity to listen to everyone’s perspectives and hear their stories, I have no doubt that I’ve gained a deeper appreciation for my new home city. I cannot even begin to express how lucky I was to take part in this special 50th anniversary of Jerusalem’s reunification, and how lucky I am to be part of her history, every single day. I wouldn’t have it any other way.
By Tzvi Silver/JLNJ Israel
Tzvi Silver, a Teaneck native, has been living in Israel since 2011. He is in his final year of studying electrical engineering at JCT-Machon Lev in Jerusalem, works as an investigator for Israel’s Ministry of Justice and serves as JLNJ and JLBWC’s senior Israel correspondent. He will be drafted into the IDF at the end of the year to serve an academic officer in his field.
