Uncategorized
Judaism doesn’t want you to wander and live just anywhere — or does it?
(JTA) — I was a remote worker long before the pandemic made it a thing, but it was only last month that I really took advantage of it. Early on the morning of New Year’s Day, I boarded a plane from Connecticut bound for Mexico, where I spent a full month sleeping in thatch-roofed palapas, eating more tacos than was probably wise and bathing every day in the Pacific. I’ll spare you the glorious details, but suffice it to say, it wasn’t a bad way to spend a January.
Perhaps unsurprisingly, I found myself again and again coming into contact with expats who had traded in their urban lives in northern climes for a more laid-back life in the tropics. There was the recently divorced motorcycle enthusiast slowly wending his way southward by bike as he continued to work a design job for a major American bank. There was the yoga instructor born not far from where I live in Massachusetts who owned an open-air rooftop studio just steps from the waves. There were the countless couples who had chosen to spend their days running beachfront bars or small hotels on the sand. And then there were the seemingly endless number and variety of middle-aged northerners rebooting their lives in perpetual sunshine.
Such people have long mystified me. It’s not hard to understand the lure of beachside living, and part of me envies the freedom to design your own life from the ground up. But there’s also something scary about it. Arriving in middle age in a country where you know nobody, whose language is not your own, whose laws and cultural mores, seasons and flora, are all unfamiliar — it feels like the essence of shallow-rootedness, like a life devoid of all the things that give one (or at least me) a sense of comfort and security and place. The thought of exercising the right to live literally anywhere and any way I choose opens up a space so vast and limitless it provokes an almost vertiginous fear of disconnection and a life adrift.
Clearly, this feeling isn’t universally shared. And the fact that I have it probably owes a lot to my upbringing. I grew up in an Orthodox family, which by necessity meant life was lived in a fairly small bubble. Our house was within walking distance of our synagogue, as it had to be since walking was the only way to get there on Shabbat and holidays. I attended a small Jewish day school, where virtually all of my friends came from families with similar religious commitments. Keeping kosher and the other constraints of a religious life had a similarly narrowing effect on the horizons of my world and thus my sense of life’s possibilities. Or at least that’s how it often felt.
What must it be like — pardon the non-kosher expression — to feel as if the world is your oyster? That you could live anywhere, love anyone, eat anything and make your life whatever you want it to be? Thrilling, yes — but also frightening. The sense of boundless possibility I could feel emanating from those sun-baked Mexicans-by-choice was seductive, but tempered by aversion to a life so unmoored.
The tension between freedom and obligation is baked into Jewish life. The twin poles of our national narrative are the Exodus from Egypt and the revelation at Sinai, each commemorated by festivals separated by exactly seven weeks in the calendar, starting with Passover. The conventional understanding is that this juxtaposition isn’t accidental. God didn’t liberate the Israelites from slavery so they could live free of encumbrances on the Mayan Riviera. Freedom had a purpose, expressed in the giving of the Torah at Sinai, with all its attendant rules and restrictions and obligations. Freedom is a central value of Jewish life — Jews are commanded to remember the Exodus every day. But Jewish freedom doesn’t mean the right to live however you want.
Except it might mean the right to live any place you want. In the 25th chapter of Leviticus, God gives the Israelites the commandment of the Jubilee year, known as yovel in Hebrew. Observed every 50 years in biblical times, the Jubilee has many similarities to the shmita (sabbatical) year, but with some additional rituals. The text instructs: “And you shall hallow the 50th year. You shall proclaim liberty throughout the land for all its inhabitants. It shall be a jubilee for you: each of you shall return to your holding and each of you shall return to your family.”
Among the requirements of the Jubilee was that ancestral lands be returned to their original owners. Yet the word for liberty is a curious one: “d’ror.” The Talmud explains its etymology this way: “It is like a man who dwells [medayer] in any dwelling and moves merchandise around the entire country” (Rosh Hashanah 9b).
The liberty of the Jubilee year could thus be said to have two contrary meanings — individuals had the right to return to their ancestral lands, but they were also free not to. They could live in any dwelling they chose. The sense of liberty connoted by the biblical text is a specifically residential one: the freedom to live where one chooses. Which pretty well describes the world we live in today. Jewish ancestral lands are freely available to any Jew who wants to live there. And roughly half the Jews of the world choose not to.
Clearly, I’m among them. And while I technically could live anywhere, I’m pretty sure I don’t want to. I like where I live — not because of any particular qualities of this place, though I do love its seasons and its smells and its proximity to the people I care about and the few weeks every fall when the trees become a riotous kaleidoscope. But mostly because it’s mine.
A version of this essay appeared in My Jewish Learning’s Recharge Shabbat newsletter. Subscribe here.
—
The post Judaism doesn’t want you to wander and live just anywhere — or does it? appeared first on Jewish Telegraphic Agency.
Uncategorized
A chat in Yiddish with filmmaker Pearl Gluck
וואָס געשעט ווען אַ יונגע פֿרוי פֿאָרט זוכן אַ פֿאַרלוירענע געבענטשטע חסידישע סאָפֿע אין אונגערן, און געפֿינט דווקא אַ נײַעם קונסטוועג וואָס ברענגט ייִדיש אין קינאָ אַרײַן און דערבײַ הייבט זי אָן אַ הצלחהדיקע פֿילם־קאַריערע?
באַקענט זיך אויף אַ זומישן שמועס אויף ייִדיש מיט פּראָפֿ׳ פּערל גליק — אַ פֿילמאָגראַפֿקע וואָס איז דערצויגן געוואָרן בײַ אַ חסידישער משפּחה — זונטיק, דעם 23סטן נאָוועמבער, 1:30 נאָך מיטאָג ניו־יאָרקער צײַט.
הײַנט איז גליק אַ פּראָפֿעסאָרין פֿון פֿילם־פּראָדוקציע בײַ פּען־סטייט־אוניווערסיטעט, און די גרינדערין פֿון Palinka Pictures. זי שאַפֿט דאָקומענטאַלע און נאַראַטיווע פֿילמען, אין וועלכע זי וועבט צונויף ייִדיש־לשון מיט די טעמעס זכּרון, משפּחה און דאָס דערציילן פּערזענלעכע געשיכטעס.
דער אינטערוויו, וואָס וועט געפֿירט ווערן דורך אלי בענעדיקט, ווערט געשטיצט פֿון דער ייִדיש־ליגע.
גליקס פֿילמען האָט מען שוין געוויזן אינעם Film Forum און אויף PBS, ווי אויך אין פּראָגראַמען פֿאַרבונדן מיט דעם „קאַן־קינאָ־פֿעסטיוואַל“. צווישן אירע באַקאַנטסטע פֿילמען זענען: „דיוואַן“, Where is Joel Baum און „שלעסער אינעם הימל“.
בענעדיקט וועט שמועסן מיט איר וועגן איר שאַפֿערישן פּראָצעס, ווי ייִדיש שפּילט אַ ראָלע אין אירע פֿילמען, און די געשיכטע הינטער געוויסע סצענעס. מע וועט אויך ווײַזן קורצע אויסצוגן צו פֿאַרטיפֿן דעם שמועס.
כּדי זיך צו פֿאַרשרײַבן אויף דער פּראָגראַם, גיט אַ קוועטש דאָ.
The post A chat in Yiddish with filmmaker Pearl Gluck appeared first on The Forward.
Uncategorized
UN Says Israeli Wall Crosses Lebanon Border
The United Nations headquarters building is pictured though a window with the UN logo in the foreground in the Manhattan borough of New York, Aug. 15, 2014. Photo: REUTERS/Carlo Allegri
A survey conducted by the United Nations Interim Force in Lebanon last month found that a wall built by the Israeli military crosses the Blue Line, the de facto border, a U.N. spokesperson said on Friday
The Blue Line is a U.N.-mapped line separating Lebanon from Israel and the Israeli-occupied Golan Heights.
Stephane Dujarric, the spokesperson for the U.N. secretary-general, said the concrete T-wall erected by the IDF has made more than 4,000 square meters (nearly an acre) of Lebanese territory inaccessible to the local population.
A section of an additional wall, which has also crossed the Blue Line, is being erected southeast of Yaroun, he said, citing the peacekeepers.
Dujarric said UNIFIL informed the Israeli military of its findings and requested that the wall be removed.
“Israeli presence and construction in Lebanese territory are violations of Security Council resolution 1701 and of Lebanon’s sovereignty and territorial integrity,” UNIFIL said in a separate statement.
An Israeli military spokesperson denied the wall crossed the Blue Line.
“The wall is part of a broader IDF plan whose construction began in 2022. Since the start of the war, and as part of lessons learned from it, the IDF has been advancing a series of measures, including reinforcing the physical barrier along the northern border,” the spokesperson said.
UNIFIL, established in 1978, operates between the Litani River in the north and the Blue Line in the south. The mission has more than 10,000 troops from 50 countries and about 800 civilian staff, according to its website.
Uncategorized
Hamas Quietly Reasserts Control in Gaza as Post-War Talks Grind On
Palestinians buy vegetables at a market in Nuseirat, central Gaza Strip, November 13, 2025. Photo: REUTERS/Mahmoud Issa
From regulating the price of chicken to levying fees on cigarettes, Hamas is seeking to widen control over Gaza as US plans for its future slowly take shape, Gazans say, adding to rivals’ doubts over whether it will cede authority as promised.
After a ceasefire began last month, Hamas swiftly reestablished its hold over areas from which Israel withdrew, killing dozens of Palestinians it accused of collaborating with Israel, theft or other crimes. Foreign powers demand the group disarm and leave government but have yet to agree who will replace them.
Now, a dozen Gazans say they are increasingly feeling Hamas control in other ways. Authorities monitor everything coming into areas of Gaza held by Hamas, levying fees on some privately imported goods including fuel as well as cigarettes and fining merchants seen to be overcharging for goods, according to 10 of the Gazans, three of them merchants with direct knowledge.
Ismail Al-Thawabta, head of the media office of the Hamas government, said accounts of Hamas taxing cigarettes and fuel were inaccurate, denying the government was raising any taxes.
ANALYST SEES HAMAS ENTRENCHING
The authorities were only carrying out urgent humanitarian and administrative tasks whilst making “strenuous efforts” to control prices, Thawabta said. He reiterated Hamas’ readiness to hand over to a new technocratic administration, saying it aimed to avoid chaos in Gaza: “Our goal is for the transition to proceed smoothly.”
Hatem Abu Dalal, owner of a Gaza mall, said prices were high because not enough goods were coming into Gaza. Government representatives were trying to bring order to the economy – touring around, checking goods and setting prices, he said.
Mohammed Khalifa, shopping in central Gaza’s Nuseirat area, said prices were constantly changing despite attempts to regulate them. “It’s like a stock exchange,” he said.
“The prices are high. There’s no income, circumstances are difficult, life is hard, and winter is coming,” he said.
US President Donald Trump’s Gaza plan secured a ceasefire on October 10 and the release of the last living hostages seized during the Hamas-led October 7, 2023 attacks on Israel.
The plan calls for the establishment of a transitional authority, the deployment of a multinational security force, Hamas’ disarmament, and the start of reconstruction.
But Reuters, citing multiple sources, reported this week that Gaza’s de facto partition appeared increasingly likely, with Israeli forces still deployed in more than half the territory and efforts to advance the plan faltering.
Nearly all of Gaza’s 2 million people live in areas controlled by Hamas, which seized control of the territory from President Mahmoud Abbas’ Palestinian Authority (PA) and his Fatah Movement in 2007.
Ghaith al-Omari, a senior fellow at the Washington Institute think-tank, said Hamas’ actions aimed to show Gazans and foreign powers alike that it cannot be bypassed.
“The longer that the international community waits, the more entrenched Hamas becomes,” Omari said.
US STATE DEPARTMENT: HAMAS ‘WILL NOT GOVERN’
Asked for comment on Gazans’ accounts of Hamas levying fees on some goods, among other reported activities, a US State Department spokesperson said: “This is why Hamas cannot and will not govern in Gaza.”
A new Gaza government can be formed once the United Nations approves Trump’s plan, the spokesperson said, adding that progress has been made towards forming the multinational force.
The PA is pressing for a say in Gaza’s new government, though Israel rejects the idea of it running Gaza again. Fatah and Hamas are at odds over how the new governing body should be formed.
Munther al-Hayek, a Fatah spokesperson in Gaza, said Hamas actions “give a clear indication that Hamas wants to continue to govern.”
In the areas held by Israel, small Palestinian groups that oppose Hamas have a foothold, a lingering challenge to it.
Gazans continue to endure dire conditions, though more aid has entered since the ceasefire.
THEY ‘RECORD EVERYTHING’
A senior Gazan food importer said Hamas hadn’t returned to a full taxation policy, but they “see and record everything.”
They monitor everything that enters, with checkpoints along routes, and stop trucks and question drivers, he said, declining to be identified. Price manipulators are fined, which helps reduce some prices, but they are still much higher than before the war began and people complain they have no money.
Hamas’ Gaza government employed up to 50,000 people, including policemen, before the war. Thawabta said that thousands of them were killed, and those remaining were ready to continue working under a new administration.
Hamas authorities continued paying them salaries during the war, though it cut the highest, standardizing wages to 1,500 shekels ($470) a month, Hamas sources and economists familiar with the matter said. It is believed that Hamas drew on stockpiled cash to pay the wages, a diplomat said.
The Hamas government replaced four regional governors who were killed, sources close to Hamas said. A Hamas official said the group also replaced 11 members of its Gaza politburo who died.
Gaza City activist and commentator Mustafa Ibrahim said Hamas was exploiting delays in the Trump plan “to bolster its rule.” “Will it be allowed to continue doing so? I think it will continue until an alternative government is in place,” he said.