Rabbi Shmuel Havlin scurries across the backyard, literally full of hands: under his right arm is an oversized cardboard box full of palm leaves, in his left hand he carries a box containing a flawless yellow lemon well-packed in foam. Havlin, 34, brings both into the reed-covered hut that stands next to his house in Hamburg's Rotherbaum district, then his phone rings again.
Sukkot, the Feast of Tabernacles starting on Sunday evening, is one of the most important holidays in the Jewish calendar. As a reminder of the exodus from Egypt, the members of the congregation are to meet for seven days in a simple wooden hut, rejoice and celebrate.
This year, however, many Jews in Germany will find it difficult. It was only a few days ago last Wednesday when a young man in Halle killed two people and tried to storm the local synagogue. Only luck and a sturdy wooden door prevented worse. For days, the police have therefore been protecting Jewish institutions in addition, also in Hamburg.
"We do not want to be victims"
The fact that it was an anti-Semitic act, even before the confession of the 27-year-old few doubt - he committed the attack on Yom Kippur, by far the most important Jewish holiday in which also many secular community members go to the synagogue. Yom Kippur begins a series of holidays. Now everyone is wondering how certain Jewish life in Germany really is.
Hundreds of people also came to Yom Kippur in Hamburg. Havlin was a foreman when on Wednesday afternoon suddenly more and more police cars pulled up in front of the synagogue. Inside, nobody knew, the cell phones were switched off. On holiday, the communities should be completely alone, the use of electronic devices is prohibited as well as the kindling of fire or physical work. That, too, made Halle's attack so infamous - probably no other day of the year does Jews get so vulnerable.
Even days later, Havlin is grateful that his synagogue was quickly protected. The head of the nearest police station came by on foot four times to keep track of the latest news. The rabbi knows the Hallese community himself well, a few years ago he was there for some time.
Despite his dismay, he tries not to allow his everyday life to be dominated by events: "We do not want to be victims."
The desire for fellowship is greater than fear
Many parishioners still have questions, also because of the holiday. That's why the phone hardly stands still. Havlin, who grew up in Israel and studied in New York, switches throughout the day between English, Hebrew and German. He also speaks with his four children, they also have questions. It was the first time, says Havlin, that he was in a situation with his children when he did not know if they were safe. "As a rabbi, I have to answer questions that are new to me at the moment."
Halle's attack also had very personal consequences: "My son asked me if he should take off his kippa." For Havlin, who even now, while working in the backyard, wearing a suit, shirt and tie, that would be out of the question. As a "slippery road", as a slippery road, called the Orthodox rabbi such considerations. "If we start like that, then the next thing is whether we're still celebrating church services, I want to be able to live my religious freedom without fear for my life."
The fact that his sukkah, the tabernacle in the backyard, which is five times six meters this year is more than twice as large as before, also has to do with the attack of Halle. About 30 people should find space there. Many parishioners would feel the need to celebrate together this year, also because the holiday season has thinned the community in addition. The desire for community is so far greater than the fear, says Havlin, while he bundles the branches in his hats. She and the immaculate lemon later symbolize the different members of the community. Even those who are not believers now belong to it.
The mood is tense but friendly
A little later, in the Grindelviertel district, the old Jewish quarter of Hamburg, parishioners arrive for church service, police patrol with machine guns at the door. The road, which has been closed for years, is now also sealed off by a pickup truck. Two dark vans park right in front of the gray 1960s construction. Only those who are known or can identify themselves to the internal security service are allowed in. The mood is tense but friendly.
So far, only a slightly higher garden fence protects the terrain, cameras do not exist. Shortly after the attack, the Hamburg State Rabbi Shlomo Bistritzky announced that he wanted to change that. The Hamburg Senate has promised help.
Inside there is little to notice of the threat. Toddlers play in the corridors, the community is growing again for several years. The adults crowd in the meantime in the courtyard. Although the tabernacle of the community was made up of several tents, the space in the back and the front does not suffice for about 100 people. As the state rabbi blesses the red wine imported from Israel in small plastic cups, parishioners still crowd into the hut.
In the coming year, one must actually expand the Sukkot, says Rabbi Havlin. But the small playground in the courtyard of the synagogue is in the way. Something will be thought of yet. The mood is also so exuberant, only in front of the entrance gate of the synagogue are again heavily armed police to see. Whether Jewish life has a place in German society is not decided here.