The Blessings and Challenges that Farmers See in Observing the Shemittah Year

Avichai Koch did not always observe Shemittah, in the full sense of the word.

Though he is an observant Jew, years gone by, and he had always relied on “heter mechirah,” an old, yet controversial halachic loophole, which permits farmers to work their land on the seventh year. But last Shemittah cycle, in the year 2014, something changed.

Avichai’s son Erez was turning bar mitzvah. Erez turned to his father with a request.

“Abba, for my bar mitzvah present, I’d like you to keep Shemittah this year.”

Something stirred in Avichai’s heart. He looked into his son’s eyes and said nothing.

Avichai Koch was born in Central Israel, on Moshav Chemed, which is located not far from Ben Gurion Airport. His upbringing was Dati Leumi, and Avichai still identifies as such to this day. He is married to his wife Karen, and they have three children. The oldest, Erez, is now 19.

Avichai feels a strong love for the Land of Israel, and much of his life revolves around that love. His father is a farmer as well, and so farming the land is very much part of his blood.

Avichai originally started out in the workforce by training in IT and taking a well-paying position in that field. He soon realized, though, that his heart was in farming the land, though it was less lucrative a field (pun not intended).

He loves being surrounded by nature, especially the holy terrain of Israel, and working it. “Farming is man’s natural occupation,” he explains. Industry and technology are man-made, unnatural environments, not our organic habitat.

Additionally, in his words, “farming keeps the land.” He feels Jewish farms and Jewish farmers protect large swaths of land from being infiltrated or taken over by strangers and enemies. One farmer can tend to many acres of land, protecting it as well as actualizing its potential, thus preserving the land for future generations. As such, farming is very meaningful to him. Call it a higher calling, if you will.

In fact, his farm is located on Moshav Tekuma, in the north Negev, which is just four miles from the Gaza border. There is an Iron Dome battery not far from his home, which he often brings tourists to see.

Too often, Hamas terrorists shoot rockets into Israel, and the Iron Dome deploys to intercept their missiles. At times, the interception happens directly over Avichai’s farm. In his fields, many fragments of rockets and missiles lay scattered.

Once, a family from the U.S. came to visit his farm, and the wife discovered a fragment of a rocket, which had landed in Avichai’s field. The family took the fragment home with them, and they place the fragment near their Shabbos candles each week during candle lighting. They sent Avichai a picture of the fragment sitting there near the candles, which moved Avichai greatly.

Avichai explains that due to the great expense of each individual Iron Dome missile, they are set to only intercept missiles which are aimed at populated areas. Farmland is not considered a populated area, and so, they stand unprotected.

I asked Avichai if that makes him nervous. After all, he is out there in those fields. He admitted it does. But, he says, “you get used to it.”

He does hope things will get better once the Israeli government’s planned new laser-based defense system is deployed. The new system is expected to be in operation within about two years or so. Avichai says it will be a game-changer.

Recently, though, things have been quiet, and Avichai and his family are enjoying the respite.

Avichai owns five acres behind his house, in addition to another five acres on a different lot. He

“You have to be like Nachshon [ben Aminadav]. You just jump in.”

grows organic vegetables in greenhouses. He can grow almost everything, all year round.

His wife, Karen, is a teacher in Soroka Hospital in Be’er Sheva, keeping hospitalized children upto-date with their studies, so they don’t fall behind while out of school for extended periods of time.

AVICHAI’S FIRST SHEMITTAH

Avichai’s son Erez picked up an inspirational pamphlet in shul one Shabbos a few years ago. It was a weekly distributed pamphlet geared for children, with stories and pictures, named Shalom L’am. In it was an inspiring story about a non-religious farmer who grew peppers in the Arava region who began keeping Shemittah and experienced great blessing, as the Torah promises. Young Erez was moved by the story and was convinced that his father should do the same.

But Avichai and Karen thought that idea was simply ludicrous. Avichai has workers, customers, a bank loan, and a business to run, and just ditching it all for a year seemed completely impossible.

Still, the idea did enter their hearts and percolated there for a few weeks. Finally, one day, Avichai and his wife related to each other about “how many Jews, of all the Jews in the world, have the opportunity to keep this special mitzvah of Shemittah?”

They took a deep breath and decided to go for it.

Some time later, a boy once asked Avichai, “How did you get the strength to do that?”

Avichai told him, “You have to be like Nachshon [ben Aminadav]. You just jump in.”

SIMPLE, YET GREAT

Avichai realized, though, that he could not remain on his farm during the Shemittah year. It would simply be too painful. He knew he couldn’t bear to see the plastic covers of his greenhouses blowing in the wind and weeds growing in his fields.

Even now, his second Shemittah already, it is still hard for him to watch that scene.

He decided to move to the U.S. for the year, to Englewood, NJ, where his wife got a job through the Jewish Agency, teaching in a school called Ben Porat Yosef, or BPY. Avichai found employment in New Jersey as well, working for the security de-

Harav Berel Povarsky, Rosh Yeshivas Ponovezh, visiting Avichai and signing a Shemittah partnership

Avichai’s bountiful tomato crop

partment of El Al, in Newark Airport. His job was cargo security, screening all luggage headed for the El Al planes for security threats.

Soon, he ran into problems. He discovered that, unbelievably, and sadly, El Al was operating on the holy day of Shabbos, sorting and processing packages. (Avichai stresses that this was in the past and that changes have since been made at El Al.)

Avichai approached the supervisor and calmly let him know that he had no intention of working on Shabbos, G-d forbid. He hadn’t committed to observing the Shabbos of the Land only to violate “Shabbos Bereishis.”

The supervisor was friendly and tried to cover for Avichai, but eventually his higher-ups caught on. The manager of the Newark chapter of El Al began putting a lot of pressure on him to crack down on Avichai.

But Avichai was not fazed.

The manager was in a quandary, however, as it is illegal (in the U.S., as well as in Israel) to fire an employee for refusing to work on Saturday. So, he opted for underhanded tactics instead.

Avichai soon began noticing baggage appearing with tiny, almost invisible, threatening symbols on them. He quickly realized they were planted there by the management. They were looking for an excuse to fire him, on grounds of his being “lax” at his job of screening for threats.

He also realized that there was nothing he could do. Sooner or later, one of the ‘threats’ would inevitable slip by him.

Sure enough, before long, he was called to the manager’s office. The manager informed him that there was a serious complaint against him, and he would have to meet with the “big boss” in Israel to see if he could keep his job.

Avichai had no choice but to get on a plane and meet “big boss” in Ben Gurion Airport in Israel.

He was greeted frostily by the boss.

“Do you know why you are here?” the boss asked him.

“Of course, I do”, Avichai replied. “It’s because I won’t work on Shabbat.”

“No, no, no,” the boss replied, with feigned earnestness. He knew quite well that that would be illegal on his part. “It’s because you are not doing your job properly. You are missing the threatening symbols. It wouldn’t be safe to allow you to continue in your position.”

Avichai realized he wasn’t getting anywhere. He told the boss, “If you want to fire me, it’s fine. Don’t worry about me.”

The boss tried reasoning with him, telling him, “You have a family, rent, and mortgage. How can you say it’s fine?” His unspoken demand was that Avichai agree to come around and “cooperate” – in other words, work on Shabbos. But Avichai wouldn’t yield.

“OK, have it your way,” the boss retorted angrily. “You are fired.”

Avichai retells this story with this sense of calmness and serenity. Almost as if it’s some amusing story. I asked him, weren’t you worried? How were you so easygoing about the whole thing?

Avichai explains that from when he began keeping Shemittah, he saw clearly, in one incident after the next, how he was experiencing a special protection from Hashem. Though initially he was quite worried about his livelihood for the year, he slowly became filled with a conviction that “everything with be all right,” and he felt a sense of security and peace that he cannot explain.

The boss still had a technical problem, though. Officially, Avichai was not actually employed by El Al, but by the Israeli Ministry of Foreign Affairs, and only they had the authority to fire him. But the boss was confident they would cooperate.

“In two weeks, you will have a hearing at the Israeli consulate in Manhattan,” he told Avichai, “and then they will fire you.”

Avichai actually felt happy and relieved. He used the opportunity of his short stay in Israel to visit family and friends and then headed back that evening to his family in the U.S.

When he arrived back in the U.S., out of the blue, Avichai received a call from Keren Hashviis.

They were looking for a Shemittah-observing farmer to go around to shuls and schools, telling people the story of keeping Shemittah in modern times and hopefully inspiring them to help this important cause. Would Avichai agree to be that farmer?

As he was now officially unemployed, Avichai gladly agreed. He certainly had plenty of time available, and he was happy to share the beauty of Shemittah with his American brothers and sisters.

Avichai feels that Shemittah is a strong connecting force between the farmers of Israel and the Jewish community of Chutz L’aretz. This attitude of his was born then and has only grown stronger over time.

And so, he and his wife Karen traveled the U.S., speaking in many communities and connecting with so many people.

Rav Benzion Kugler, chairman of Keren Hashviis in Israel, and Rav Avraham Rubenstien, mayor of Bnei Brak, visiting Avichai on his farm

Once, he spoke in Yeshiva Darchei Torah of Far Rockaway. After the speech, the boys lined up to receive a bracha from him.

Though Avichai insists emphatically that he is but a simple farmer, he cannot deny that he is engaged in something far from simple. Something big.

Indeed, he may be simple, but he is touching greatness.

Throughout this all, he was still receiving pay, as well as health insurance, from the Ministry of Foreign Affairs. Although practically speaking he had no job, he was technically not fired until his hearing would take place.

While it was supposed to be within two weeks, somehow, things dragged, and this situation continued for a few months. All the while, his paychecks were still arriving like clockwork. In his case, red tape was working in his favor.

Finally, around April time, the day of the hearing arrived. He arrived at the consulate, and there was his boss, looking very confident and eager for vindication. However, the woman who was to hear his case was very kind and sympathetic to Avichai. She asked him what he was doing, now that he was not working.

Avichai described for her his recent activities; how he was going to town after town of American Jewry, raising awareness about Israeli life and Israeli farming and forging connection between the American and Israeli communities. The woman was deeply impressed by Avichai’s story, and felt he should be supported.

Avichai had initially only hoped for an extension of his visa; losing his job was a foregone conclusion. However, she insisted that his activities were a big help for Israel, and so his pay should be continued! And so, Avichai and his family were able to stay out the year, with relative financial stability.

Incidentally, on his way home to Israel, Avichai

Crops laying fallow

noticed his former manager on the same plane. It turned out that he, too, had now been fired and was now returning to Israel as well, with his tail between his legs.

Avichai stresses that much has changed in the management of El Al since this episode and that this story is no indication of the current state of affairs with the company. (I hope he’s right.)

FATHERS AND SONS

When Avichai first began keeping Shemittah, by default, his father Yossi joined along for the ride, as Avichai managed much of his father’s fields as well. And so, it turned out that the inspiration born from Erez traveled up the generations, to his father and grandfather.

Yossi had a beautiful olive orchard in Moshav Chemed. This orchard would now experience its first “Shabbos.”

As mentioned, Avichai was traveling the U.S. on behalf of Keren Hashviis, speaking and inspiring many communities. One week, his speaking tour took him to Chicago, where he experienced a beautiful and uplifting Shabbos. As it happened, the rosh yeshiva of Ponovezh, R’ Berel Pavorsky, was also in the same hotel, and Avichai got to spend some time in close proximity to the venerable rosh yeshiva, who inquired who he was. When Avichai mentioned his father’s name, R’ Pavorsky exclaimed in surprise. He remembered Avichai’s father, as he had been a student in Ponevezh as a child, and R’ Pavorsky had taught him. R’ Pavorsky did not forget a single student, and he was overjoyed to hear that his student of long ago had begun keeping Shemittah.

Avichai called his father to inquire about this, and his father confirmed that, indeed, he had learned in the Ponevezh Yeshiva for a short time during his childhood, upon the urging of the local rav in the town in which he grew up.

R’ Pavorsky kept up contact with Avichai and his father. And this Shemittah cycle, he came to Yossi’s olive orchard to sign a partnership with him for Shemittah. This sort of partnership is an innovation which is facilitated by Keren Hashviis, to help support farmers, while also giving others an opportunity to have a portion in the mitzvah of Shemittah.

Avichai fondly recalls the day. There is a light in his eyes as he describes with emotion how the great Rosh Yeshiva sat under his father’s beloved olive trees and signed the partnership document to share in the mitzvah of Shemittah with his student of all those years ago.

FULFILLED BRACHOS

Avichai shared some of his personal Shemittah miracles. He added that he has seen more than what he would share with us, but those miracles are of a more personal nature and he doesn’t feel it is appropriate to publish them.

He did share that, as many other Shemittah-observant farmers, he receives unusual blessing in the sixth year, exactly as the Torah describes. In fact, just recently, he planted pumpkins, and his crop yielded a full 200% of their usual output. The seed company simply would not believe his words and actually sent someone down to his farm to verify his story. Apparently, such a phenomenon is completely unnatural.