A Message from Rabbi Yoshi in Israel

Soon after I started working at the Hebrew Union College in Jerusalem in the summer of 2009, I met Salim Yagmur, an Israeli/Arab/Palestinian/Muslim, who would soon become a dear colleague and friend. Salim is the head of facilities, and we worked closely on all sorts of programs and projects. Whenever there was a change to a set-up or a last-minute request, Salim and his team were there to make sure things went smoothly. He was incredibly generous in helping me and my family acclimate to Jerusalem. Our youngest was a student in a pre-school classroom on the campus, and Salim would always greet her warmly and had a solid supply of chocolates available for her at all times. When I needed to jump-start my car after one of my kids (possibly the chocolate lover) left the light in the backseat on, Salim was my first call. He came right over to help. We discovered at some point that we were both born on October 5th, and we celebrated our birthday each year by taking each other out to lunch.

A few years ago, long after I’d left the College to come to work at Wise, Salim created something extraordinary on the campus. He noticed one day that a Muslim visitor couldn’t find a place for prayer and reflection that was comfortable and that provided appropriate sanctity and privacy. He worked with the administration to create a prayer space appropriate for all.

On one of the walls is a verse from the Book of Isaiah in Hebrew, English, and Arabic:

וַהֲבִיאוֹתִ֞ים אֶל־הַ֣ר קָדְשִׁ֗י וְשִׂמַּחְתִּים֙ בְּבֵ֣ית תְּפִלָּתִ֔י עוֹלֹתֵיהֶ֧ם וְזִבְחֵיהֶ֛ם לְרָצ֖וֹן עַֽל־מִזְבְּחִ֑י כִּ֣י בֵיתִ֔י בֵּית־תְּפִלָּ֥ה יִקָּרֵ֖א לְכָל־הָעַמִּֽים׃

I will bring them to My sacred mount
And let them rejoice in My house of prayer.
Their burnt offerings and sacrifices
Shall be welcome on My altar;
For My House shall be called
A house of prayer for all peoples.

The dream of the prophet Isaiah seems terribly distant right now. How could this place ever be a “house of prayer for all peoples”?

And yet, there are many reasons still to hold on to hope. For me, my friendship with Salim is one of them. We are in touch every few months, checking in on each other’s families. Salim recently became a grandfather. I told him he looked younger than me even though we were exactly the same age. He laughed and said, “I color my hair!” He asks after my daughters and Jacqueline, and of course, we always remember to wish one another yom huledet sameach.

Salim is my friend. He was a trusted colleague during the years we worked together. And, even though I live now in Los Angeles, he remains a fellow Israeli who dreams of the day when we can all live together in peace and harmony, when God’s house might truly be a house of prayer for all peoples.