Shabbos Hevron

          I was visiting family friends in Efrat during my year of study in Israel and they asked me, “Do you want to come back next week for Shabbos Hevron?” “What is that?” I asked. “It’s when thousands of Jews come to Hevron to pray at Maarat HaMachpelah, the Cave of the Patriarchs.” I declined but ever since then have wondered what it would have been like in Hevron that weekend.

          The most recent population statistics I could find, from 2021, are 782,227 Palestinian Arabs living in Hevron.[1] In contrast there are under 1,000 Jews, outside the outskirts of the Old City of Hevron. The larger Jewish population is in Kiryat Arba, an adjacent city, which in 2021 had a population of 7,499 Jews.[2] In the two times I visited Hevron I saw a bench with a picture of Elijah leading the Messiah. My tour guide said, “I like the Hevron settlers because at least they are honest-they are here to bring about Mashiach.”

          There are complicated agreements around the governance of Hevron, the most prominent being the Wye River Memorandum under Prime Minister Netanyahu in the 1990s.[3] We can discuss these another time. My question for us this morning, as we had thousands more going to Hevron to pray at Maarat HaMachpelah, is just because we can do this is it something we should do? I love biblical sites and I found it powerful to pray at the Cave of the Patriarchs. However, that’s different than going with thousands of my closest friends to assert we have a right to storm the city on the Shabbat at which Avraham Avinu purchased Maarat HaMachpelah as a burial place for his beloved Sarah. I am not posing an answer, only raising the question, as we begin our Torah reading this morning.


[1] Hebron – Wikipedia

[2] Kiryat Arba – Wikipedia

[3] Wye River Memorandum – Wikipedia

Middat S’dom

          Pirkei Avot, Ethics of the Fathers, teaches us about the Midah, or type of behavior, given to the people of Sodom. The Mishnah reads: “People fall into four categories, based on their dispositions: the one who says ‘What’s mine is mine and what’s yours is yours”-this is the disposition of a middling individual; but some say it is the disposition of (the people of) Sodom.[1] In his commentary on this Mishanh, Rabbi Gordon Tucker writes, “The Bible depicts Sodom as a place of violence and depravity, but the rabbinic traditions are much subtler and far more interesting. They posit that the people of Sodom did not ignore the law entirely, but rather followed it so strictly that their behavior resulted in the over-privileging of those who were better off while those who were impoverished were completely shut out legally…Middat Sodom, the disposition of Sodom, thus came to be synonymous for the rabbis with grudging behavior in a case of zeh neheneh v’zeh lo haser[2]-that is, when one can bestow a benefit on someone else without suffering any loss yet still declines to do it.” The example Rabbi Tucker provides is “My refusing to let you have your guests park in my driveway on a weekend when I am out of town; legally I can certainly refuse to do so, but it hardly seems justifiable from a moral standpoint.”[3]

          One of the aspects that makes Israel unique is the principle Kol Yisrael Arevin Zeh LaZeh-all of Israel is responsible for one another.[4] For us it is not enough to say ‘You take care of yourself and I’ll take care of me.’ Rather, if we can help another within reason, not in expense of our self-care, our families and our work, we not only should do so but we must. That is what makes the nation of Israel so unique at a time like this: we see the best in Israelis in their coming together and supporting one another. Israel is demonstrating that it is not Midat Sodom but that each and every Israeli is responsible for one another. May we do the same here.


[1] Pirkei Avot Chapter 5 Mishanh 12.

[2] Babylonian Talmud Bava Kama 20a

[3] Rabbi Gordon Tucker, Pirkei Avot Lev Shalem, Page 252

[4] Babylonian Talmud Shavuot 39b