Judaism in the Army
Originally, this post was entitled "Torah in the Army." But that was too narrow a topic, seeing as how it constantly references the state of the dati soldier in general. So here goes the revised post, 6 weeks late, with my apologies to all you fans.
Learning in the army is tough. You are given very little free time, and in that time, you are expected to do many things, such as shower, call home, and make your bed. In the cramped quarters of an army barracks, this may take 30 - 50 minutes, and that is a huge amount of time, which, as previously noted, there is not much of. This notional lack of time is also continuosly driven into your ears for many months, just in case the point did not get through your thick skull through the pushups you do [, you pitiful excuse for the snot I hork when my stomach revisits yesterday's cholent! / Yessir!] Also, much of what free time exists, choose to do so in random and unpredictable parts of the day, cracks in the schedule, so you cannot plan for them in order to take advantage. The solution to this chaotic brand of freedom is to take your Torah with you, but that is very difficult.
Hey, let's take me for an example, shall we?
I wrote this November 24th:
Currently, I learn Hafetz Haim on a daily schedule, so as to finish it three times by next Rosh Hash, and to finish the Shmirat HaLashon once. I also learn the parasha and rashi (during Hazarat HaShatz, sue me, I'm a soldier!), and usually finish the parasha with Rashi by the end of shabbat (here's to you Rabbi Wieder!). As often as I can, I lain the parasha on the base, but unlike the US, there are way too many Ba'alei Kriah in Israel, thank God, so I have to share the weekends. There is a daily learning sefer for soldiers put out by some Hesder movement affiliated rabbis called Lekhu Lehamu b'Lahmi, "Go eat my bread," but also hints at "Go fight my war," meaning, God's fight, defending Israel, and God's bread, Torah. Recently, my Gunner and I have decided to try to finish Mesechet Maqqot by the end of the 4 months of Tank Manouvers (I'll describe that in a different post, most likely).
Revision, after beginning Advanced Tank Manouvers 6 weeks ago:
Currently, I learn Hafetz Haim on a daily schedule, so as to finish it three times by next Rosh Hash, and to finish the Shmirat HaLashon once. However, I am over a month behind in each sefer. Worse yet, I have no inclination to pick it up, in favor of other books and seforim, such as the humash. I also try to learn the parasha and rashi (during Hazarat HaShatz, sue me, I'm a soldier!), and usually finish the parasha by the end of shabbat. But usually not with Rashi (forgive me Rabbi!). As often as I can, I lain the parasha on the base, but the last time (veyeshev) was so bad I haven't felt inspired to read again yet. I no longer share the weekends, but leave it to the expert koreh. There is a daily learning sefer for soldiers put out by some Hesder movement affiliated rabbis called Lekhu Lehamu b'Lahmi. I am decent with that. My Gunner and I have humbly decided to face reality and switch to Mishnayot eruvin (here's to you rabbi Wieder!) since I have one of the new illustrated copies . I still learn a paragraph or so of Maqqot during Hazarat HaShatz by the end of the 4 months of Tank Manouvers (I'll describe that in a different post, most likely). However, even that has its difficulties. See notes at the end.
But forget Torah(gasp!) for the moment (phew). Being religious in the army is very tough! The army, you must realize, is a secular space. Things don't just run on Shabbat and fast days and Yom Kippur because they have to run. They run because most of Israel are Jews who don't give a tallis about Jewish observance, or more likely, care that somebody, somewhere, observes and keeps tradition alive; just like I would worry if the Museum of Pottery got bombed by a disgruntled elementary school art teacher - even though I would never go except to impress a girl I was interested in marrying somewhere down the scenic road of my life.
But the army is not just a secular space that merely recognizes the fact that a large minority of its citizens care, and therefore acts as a responsible democracy should, gauged as they are by the way it treats its minorities. There is a positive expression towards Judaism, the heritage, the values, and perhaps slightly, even the religion. The army might not officially care about Judaism, but it cares about the Jewish People, emphasis on Jewish, emphasis also on People.
Not the plugah-wide sukkah, nor standard "Love of The Land" option nestled into the 'Taps' Formation (they don't actually play Taps or Reveille, but that's the English-language equivilent, search me!), nor the hanukka haggiga, but Friday night kiddush that strikes one from the day-to-day grind, clearing the mud off your mind much as you cleaned that grime from your boots a few hours earlier. The Friday night meal is mandatory for all staff (some jobnikim skipped it last month, and got punished with a night of guard duty), you must come in your dress uniform, and you cannot leave until the battalion commander leaves [or whomever ranks him]. AND, you must cover your head for kiddush. That translates into everyone putting on their berets, a severely formal symbolic demonstration of respect, generally only done for receiving a superior officer (that is, acknolwedging the heirarchy and Chain of Command upon which the army stands, generally done no more than once a week), and funerals and other matters of [literaly] grave importance. The universal respect that Shabbat commands floors me every time. It is then that I do not simply know, but see and feel that we are one people.
However, all is not simple. Training is one thing, where we have the leisure to be one people in shabbat. We also have that ability in "breaking" Shabbat for actual missions. Two Shabbatot ago, we guarded the Hermon, the highest mountain in Israel, and the only place for skiing. Friday was an awesome day, at around 60 degrees, with sun, no wind, plenty of people, with hot food. The view was spectacular, as we stared down at the clouds between us and the civilized valley below. Shabbat, on the other hand, was windy, cold, with hail, and fog so thick you couldn't see 15 feet. The mountain closed early that day, and we evacuated by way of the ski-lift, shabbat afternoon. However, that was actually preferable to the Jeep they sent to take us there! Jeeps have fire, ski lifts are electric. In fact, the mountain does not (surprise!) have an eruv, so our very food situation was problematic. And when I say "one in 'breaking' Shabbat," that is not absolutely true. They drove our food up as well as us soldiers. Should we then fast? Should we eat a minimum of what is necessary? I don't know all the prayers by heart, can I take a siddur? A religious army could solve all these problems easily with a little foresight. But the secular army does not accept that benefiting from non-religious soldiers is 'cheating' the halakhic system, and therefore verboden as well.
In the end, the Chaplaincy Corps usually takes care of us. The kitchens are kosher, and from what I've seen, those rules are respected an overwhelming majority of the time. There are no training manouvers or scrambles on Shabbat or fast days and holidays. There is a synagogue in every decent sized base, complete with a sefer Torah; the army even provides Mobile Arks to take the Torah to the field. Religious soldiers have well-defined rights to prayer times, 3 times a day. Etc., etc. [Though they did neglect to get me chanuka candles when I was sent to some far-flung Lebanon border base.]
In conclusion, Judaism in the army is only slightly less complex in the army than it is in civillian life. Slightly. But to make a religious space in the army takes a community. It is the hesder unit that functions as the Mobile Community, serving both itself and the non-hesder dati soldiers as a source of rejuvenating, singing, thinking energy. I aim to elaborate later on the hesder/regular soldier interactions, but for now you should come away from this entry more wary of the IDF for your religious, i.e. God-oriented growth, as serving in the army does not bring you closer to God. And if it does, it is a perverse reversal of pain into spiritual pleasure. (But hey, we do celebrate that every so often, in many streams of Judaism, esp. Hasidism)
That is also why hesder needs soldiers who have learned for two years in a yeshiva. It is critical, and I do not know how the army could survive without it for the dati.
The End:
Why my laining was so bad.
I had to cut out the pages from my tikkun in order to learn in The Field, where rain and mud made one page nearly unreadable. I ended up learning the last third of the parasha (vayeshev) Friday night, and was Tired next morning; and Tired is nosogood for remembering little itty bitty trup. The keriyah really wasn't so bad, from a technical point of view. However, it was unpolished, and the gabai got some complaints (though I also got many hugs; most of the company realized what happened, and prevented me from being completely mortified. I love them for that).
Why I cannot learn so much during Chazzan's repition
I am now regularly late to dovening. Whereas this was one area of my life I figured I had cleaned up since YU (5 minutes late here, 10 minutes late there...), I now have a technical problem. People have physical needs to eliminate waste, and the morning is usually one time when people do. Because the army is very pressured, it is very hard to get permission to leave in the middle of the day. When we get a break to pray, I realize that it is assur for me to pray, for I must head to the bathroom or outhouse or copse of trees or whatever before it is halakhically acceptable, and just plain respectful, to stand before The Maker.
Learning in the army is tough. You are given very little free time, and in that time, you are expected to do many things, such as shower, call home, and make your bed. In the cramped quarters of an army barracks, this may take 30 - 50 minutes, and that is a huge amount of time, which, as previously noted, there is not much of. This notional lack of time is also continuosly driven into your ears for many months, just in case the point did not get through your thick skull through the pushups you do [, you pitiful excuse for the snot I hork when my stomach revisits yesterday's cholent! / Yessir!] Also, much of what free time exists, choose to do so in random and unpredictable parts of the day, cracks in the schedule, so you cannot plan for them in order to take advantage. The solution to this chaotic brand of freedom is to take your Torah with you, but that is very difficult.
Hey, let's take me for an example, shall we?
I wrote this November 24th:
Currently, I learn Hafetz Haim on a daily schedule, so as to finish it three times by next Rosh Hash, and to finish the Shmirat HaLashon once. I also learn the parasha and rashi (during Hazarat HaShatz, sue me, I'm a soldier!), and usually finish the parasha with Rashi by the end of shabbat (here's to you Rabbi Wieder!). As often as I can, I lain the parasha on the base, but unlike the US, there are way too many Ba'alei Kriah in Israel, thank God, so I have to share the weekends. There is a daily learning sefer for soldiers put out by some Hesder movement affiliated rabbis called Lekhu Lehamu b'Lahmi, "Go eat my bread," but also hints at "Go fight my war," meaning, God's fight, defending Israel, and God's bread, Torah. Recently, my Gunner and I have decided to try to finish Mesechet Maqqot by the end of the 4 months of Tank Manouvers (I'll describe that in a different post, most likely).
Revision, after beginning Advanced Tank Manouvers 6 weeks ago:
Currently, I learn Hafetz Haim on a daily schedule, so as to finish it three times by next Rosh Hash, and to finish the Shmirat HaLashon once. However, I am over a month behind in each sefer. Worse yet, I have no inclination to pick it up, in favor of other books and seforim, such as the humash. I also try to learn the parasha and rashi (during Hazarat HaShatz, sue me, I'm a soldier!), and usually finish the parasha by the end of shabbat. But usually not with Rashi (forgive me Rabbi!). As often as I can, I lain the parasha on the base, but the last time (veyeshev) was so bad I haven't felt inspired to read again yet. I no longer share the weekends, but leave it to the expert koreh. There is a daily learning sefer for soldiers put out by some Hesder movement affiliated rabbis called Lekhu Lehamu b'Lahmi. I am decent with that. My Gunner and I have humbly decided to face reality and switch to Mishnayot eruvin (here's to you rabbi Wieder!) since I have one of the new illustrated copies . I still learn a paragraph or so of Maqqot during Hazarat HaShatz by the end of the 4 months of Tank Manouvers (I'll describe that in a different post, most likely). However, even that has its difficulties. See notes at the end.
But forget Torah(gasp!) for the moment (phew). Being religious in the army is very tough! The army, you must realize, is a secular space. Things don't just run on Shabbat and fast days and Yom Kippur because they have to run. They run because most of Israel are Jews who don't give a tallis about Jewish observance, or more likely, care that somebody, somewhere, observes and keeps tradition alive; just like I would worry if the Museum of Pottery got bombed by a disgruntled elementary school art teacher - even though I would never go except to impress a girl I was interested in marrying somewhere down the scenic road of my life.
But the army is not just a secular space that merely recognizes the fact that a large minority of its citizens care, and therefore acts as a responsible democracy should, gauged as they are by the way it treats its minorities. There is a positive expression towards Judaism, the heritage, the values, and perhaps slightly, even the religion. The army might not officially care about Judaism, but it cares about the Jewish People, emphasis on Jewish, emphasis also on People.
Not the plugah-wide sukkah, nor standard "Love of The Land" option nestled into the 'Taps' Formation (they don't actually play Taps or Reveille, but that's the English-language equivilent, search me!), nor the hanukka haggiga, but Friday night kiddush that strikes one from the day-to-day grind, clearing the mud off your mind much as you cleaned that grime from your boots a few hours earlier. The Friday night meal is mandatory for all staff (some jobnikim skipped it last month, and got punished with a night of guard duty), you must come in your dress uniform, and you cannot leave until the battalion commander leaves [or whomever ranks him]. AND, you must cover your head for kiddush. That translates into everyone putting on their berets, a severely formal symbolic demonstration of respect, generally only done for receiving a superior officer (that is, acknolwedging the heirarchy and Chain of Command upon which the army stands, generally done no more than once a week), and funerals and other matters of [literaly] grave importance. The universal respect that Shabbat commands floors me every time. It is then that I do not simply know, but see and feel that we are one people.
However, all is not simple. Training is one thing, where we have the leisure to be one people in shabbat. We also have that ability in "breaking" Shabbat for actual missions. Two Shabbatot ago, we guarded the Hermon, the highest mountain in Israel, and the only place for skiing. Friday was an awesome day, at around 60 degrees, with sun, no wind, plenty of people, with hot food. The view was spectacular, as we stared down at the clouds between us and the civilized valley below. Shabbat, on the other hand, was windy, cold, with hail, and fog so thick you couldn't see 15 feet. The mountain closed early that day, and we evacuated by way of the ski-lift, shabbat afternoon. However, that was actually preferable to the Jeep they sent to take us there! Jeeps have fire, ski lifts are electric. In fact, the mountain does not (surprise!) have an eruv, so our very food situation was problematic. And when I say "one in 'breaking' Shabbat," that is not absolutely true. They drove our food up as well as us soldiers. Should we then fast? Should we eat a minimum of what is necessary? I don't know all the prayers by heart, can I take a siddur? A religious army could solve all these problems easily with a little foresight. But the secular army does not accept that benefiting from non-religious soldiers is 'cheating' the halakhic system, and therefore verboden as well.
In the end, the Chaplaincy Corps usually takes care of us. The kitchens are kosher, and from what I've seen, those rules are respected an overwhelming majority of the time. There are no training manouvers or scrambles on Shabbat or fast days and holidays. There is a synagogue in every decent sized base, complete with a sefer Torah; the army even provides Mobile Arks to take the Torah to the field. Religious soldiers have well-defined rights to prayer times, 3 times a day. Etc., etc. [Though they did neglect to get me chanuka candles when I was sent to some far-flung Lebanon border base.]
In conclusion, Judaism in the army is only slightly less complex in the army than it is in civillian life. Slightly. But to make a religious space in the army takes a community. It is the hesder unit that functions as the Mobile Community, serving both itself and the non-hesder dati soldiers as a source of rejuvenating, singing, thinking energy. I aim to elaborate later on the hesder/regular soldier interactions, but for now you should come away from this entry more wary of the IDF for your religious, i.e. God-oriented growth, as serving in the army does not bring you closer to God. And if it does, it is a perverse reversal of pain into spiritual pleasure. (But hey, we do celebrate that every so often, in many streams of Judaism, esp. Hasidism)
That is also why hesder needs soldiers who have learned for two years in a yeshiva. It is critical, and I do not know how the army could survive without it for the dati.
The End:
Why my laining was so bad.
I had to cut out the pages from my tikkun
Why I cannot learn so much during Chazzan's repition
I am now regularly late to dovening. Whereas this was one area of my life I figured I had cleaned up since YU (5 minutes late here, 10 minutes late there...), I now have a technical problem. People have physical needs to eliminate waste, and the morning is usually one time when people do. Because the army is very pressured, it is very hard to get permission to leave in the middle of the day. When we get a break to pray, I realize that it is assur for me to pray, for I must head to the bathroom or outhouse or copse of trees or whatever before it is halakhically acceptable, and just plain respectful, to stand before The Maker.
posted by Shlome at 3:07 PM
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