Yehuda Gordon grew up in Bet El and currently lives in the Shomron [Samaria] with his wife and four children - Adi Yisrael, Yosef, Chen, Lia. He works as a sofer stam [scribe].
[Interview conducted by Sharona eshet-Kohen]
Sharona Eshet-Kohen (SEK): What was it like to grow up in Bet El?
Yehuda Gordon (YG): The feeling of growing up in the land of our forefathers and hearing stories of the Tanach [bible] that transpired in our very surroundings made a huge impact upon me. I grew up imbued with a powerful feeling that we are a part of the history of the Hebrew nation returning to our land, just as the prophets predicted. I felt it was happening on my doorstep, and every time I left the house, I was walking into my role as a player in the story. Bet El is mentioned in so many places in the Tanach that I would study, and the feeling just grew more and more powerful and tangible.
We grew up not locking our doors or cars. The Bet Midrash [synagogue/house of study] in Bet El was never locked. When I would go to friends in the city, I would see the opposite: I couldn’t believe that doors to synagogues were locked. People had two or three locks on their front doors and alarms in their cars. It was so strange to me.
After high school, I studied in a Tel Aviv suburb for three years at the Ramat Gan Yeshiva, before moving on to other yeshivas. I noticed that neighborhood children couldn’t go outside on their own. There were issues of street safety and other dangers that come with a big city.
When I grew up, from early childhood, we went to friends and wandered outside alone. So, there’s actually a paradox in what people think about living in the towns of Judea and Samaria [the West Bank]. People assume that you grow up in fear, under a strict regimen of security restrictions and anxiety. It’s really the exact opposite. The children here have freedom. It’s like the difference between a chicken coop where the fowl are restricted in tight cages as opposed to free-range coops where chickens roam freely. We roamed freely, and we weren't "chicken!"
I'm not denying reality and know that in a period of terror attacks like what happened in Itamar, there may be more post trauma. But my experience in Bet El, despite the security incidents and funerals, was not fear. I remember visiting my first cousins in Jerusalem who relayed to me with great concern rumors of a man who kidnaps children from a nearby playground. We had no anxieties like that.
[Yehuda Gordon with his wife and three children (before their fourth was born)]
To sum up this point, we live today in Havat Gilad which has massive expanses of open areas. The name translates to the “Gilad Farm.” This past Shabbat, our town invited a cantor to be a guest of the town. Before he made Kiddush on Friday night, he opened by saying he feels that the Hebrew nation waited 2,000 years to live like we are living. Not in apartment buildings and crowded towns, but rather spread out, and viewing the land as a gift and embracing its openness. The kids here play, run and wander freely. This breeds children with self-confidence and healthy character.
SEK: In every direction, you are surrounded by Palestinians. How do you deal with this?
YG: It’s interesting. I feel that the Palestinians are not as dangerous as they are portrayed. They respond to our signals. What I am about to tell you is something that I have experienced countless times standing alone on the main roads at hitchhike stops and in other situations: If we stand strong and expel fear from our hearts, then we broadcast strength, and Arabs respect that. That comes naturally to me. When I stand, a sole Jew, with Palestinians at a bus stop deep in the Shomron, a lot of things happen simultaneously: I am alert but not scared; I talk to them naturally; I rely on Hashem [G-d]; I’m prepared to spring into attack if needed; and every time, I see the Palestinians are deterred and even respectful, just like it should be. It’s like the commentator Rashi says regarding walled cities in Israel – it’s a sign of weakness, whereas villages without walls are a sign of strength.
SEK: Your wife’s brother was murdered in a terror attack. How does she deal with living amongst Palestinians?
YG: When there are terror attacks, she has a throwback to feelings of anger and discomfort. It pains her greatly that families have to suffer such losses. But in her daily routine, she is very comfortable and happy here. She grew up in Elon Moreh, another town like Bet El in Judea and Samaria. She is a lioness.
SEK: Did you ever study in Bet El Institutions?
YG: Yes, I studied in 7th and 8th grade at the Bnei Tzvi Boys Yeshiva High School, a part of Bet El Institutions. That’s when I began to formulate an understanding that a person can be engaged in intense Torah study and a Torah lifestyle, and simultaneously be a contributing and influential member of society. My teachers were connected to Torah deeply, and also very charismatic and great “doers.” I saw that one can use serious Torah study not to turn inward to escape society (which I think can lead to depression), but rather as a launchpad for personal development, and great initiative and accomplishment. The Torah I experienced in middle school was a Torah not of withdrawal from communal affairs but rather a Torah of taking societal responsibility.
[Yehuda writing a scroll]
SEK: Today you are a known full-time scribe. What inspired you to become a sofer?
YG: After our wedding, I didn’t see myself spending years in pursuit of an academic degree. I liked physical labor and had worked for years in several construction and agricultural jobs. We began our marriage living in a tent, and I shepherded sheep. It was a nice tent, not what you think. True, our toilet didn’t have running water, and we used sand to cover things up. But, it was actually luxurious in the league of tents.
In construction, I trained as a welder, a floor layer, and a general worker. With time, I stopped enjoying returning home dead tired and dirty. Recognizing my own talent for architecture and interior design, I considered these trades, but decided against pursuing them for various reasons.
I liked being creative with my hands and considered painting. But eventually, I was attracted to being a sofer [scribe]. It took a year of hard work, learning the halakha [Jewish laws relating to a scribe], and writing practice, but eventually I succeeded. Creating the letters is an artistic endeavor, and I’ve been told that my handwriting is perfect for this profession. The intense concentration on my own artistic expression combined with the yirat shamayim [spiritual reverence] of writing a Torah scroll, brings me great satisfaction from my work.
The Torah scroll market is filled with many scribes. Sometimes, both the scribes and the merchants are totally focused on making a sale, and not with the meticulous halakhic points of producing a beautiful Torah written with yirat shamayim. I made many friends who are scribes in the Shomron imbued with yirat shamayim, and I began thinking about how to provide them with work for fair pay that would enable them to write with peace of mind and not feel they are being taken advantage of, which can be prevalent in this field.
I enrolled in a course on opening a business in this field. I began to see this as an ideal way to provide Torah scrolls that are truly mehudar (of finer quality) and profitable from a business perspective, while also providing work for my friends in the Shomron.
This led me to where I am today: I am currently writing a Torah for a family from Lawrence, NY and also connecting other people seeking Torah scrolls with excellent sofrim whom I personally know.
SEK: You seem to be a natural-born leader. Have you taken any other initiatives in your community?
YG: Actually, yes. I am the gabbai of the Havat Gildad synagogue. When I came to the town, I would make order in the synagogue so it would be nicer. Gradually, people began to see me as gabbai. I didn’t seek it, but eventually the town asked me to enter the position officially. So I started initiating bigger projects and changing the furniture and raising funds to make what was once a run-down mobile home serving as a synagogue, something much nicer. Our dream is to build a permanent structure for a synagogue.
SEK: Your work sounds very inspiring. Do you have anything else you want to add to this interview?
YG: I want to invite everyone reading this to visit the Shomron. Tourism has developed greatly. There are many springs and canyons. For many years, we were focused solely on personal survival. Today, much has developed including bike tours, jeep tours, nature hikes in the hills, industrial areas, restaurants, wineries, arts, and the list goes on. We are beyond the stage of limiting our resources to protection and security. We are blossoming. I see in local social media that many people organize small groups to go on hikes between towns to enjoy the land. This is a new and different stage in the Shomron. So come here to visit - and live! Feel free to contact me: shomronsofer@gmail.com
[Interview conducted by Sharona Eshet-Kohen, Online Media Director of Bet El Institutions]