"Do You Know Who I Am? I Didn't Know, and He Said: 'I'm Your Father'"

"Thank Hashem, I have been blessed to experience many special things in my life," Asaf Harush, 32, a scholar and musician from Jerusalem, shares. "But one of the most unique aspects is the story of my immediate family. Some of my mother's siblings moved to the Netherlands many years ago. At a certain point, my mother traveled to visit them and met a non-Jewish man. They wanted to marry, but my grandparents wouldn't agree unless he converted. They flew from the Netherlands to Morocco, the country from which my grandparents immigrated to Israel, and that's where he converted. Shortly after I was born, my mother didn't feel well and came to Israel for treatment, and when I was six months old, she passed away. My father was not fit to raise me, so my mother's sister adopted me. I always knew I was adopted, we talked a lot about my mother, but I called, and still call, my aunt and her husband 'Mom and Dad'."

How does a child feel being left so young without their parents?

"I understand where the question comes from, but I had a happy childhood. I had three siblings in my new home in Beersheba, and I never felt odd. If anything, I was the favored child in the house. Regarding religious observance, I can say that our home wasn't religious at all, we didn't even make *kiddush*. Personally, I was influenced by several Orthodox friends, and one day, at seven years old, I told my mom that I was starting to observe Shabbat. She went along with it and generally supported almost anything I wanted to do. She always backed me. I didn't keep Shabbat entirely because I didn't really know how, but I did what I could."

"Beyond that, I remember that I always had questions and was curious about what happens after our life here. For instance, once I remember standing in the garden with my dad and asking him if he would die. He replied that yes, everyone dies eventually, and I started crying, saying I didn't want him to die. By the way, thank Hashem, today my dad puts on *tefillin*, loves reading *Tehillim*, and my mom also makes an effort, and when we visit, they observe Shabbat properly."

(Photo: Shiran Chaya Lazarovich)

Speaking of your father, what is your relationship with your biological father like?

"For most of my life, there was a complete disconnect between us. The first time I remember meeting him was when I was four. He came to my mother's memorial, he asked if I knew who he was, I didn't know, so I said I didn't, and he said: 'I'm your father.' I replied, 'You're not my father, this is my father,' and pointed to my dad. He was very disturbed by this, and it also left an impression on me."

Thanks to Baba Elazar

"The business of keeping Shabbat at the age of six quickly passed," Harush continues. "It was very hard for me without the television. Of course, I studied in a secular high school, and one day in 10th grade, a friend suggested I come to his sister's memorial. We listened to a lecture by Rabbi Itzhak Buhbut, Moroccan, Breslover, just like me, and it moved me. We were five friends who started getting closer to Judaism because of him, keeping Shabbat, etc., and after a few months, I was the only one from the group still involved."

"The decision to keep Shabbat didn't come from a mature place but more as a gimmick that worked for me, and shortly after enlisting, I stopped keeping Shabbat. Initially, I was embarrassed for my parents to see that I no longer observed Shabbat, so I would lock my room and put a towel under the door so they wouldn't see light and only then turn on the computer. A few months later, I let go of it completely and returned to partying on Shabbat, etc."

"Speaking of parties, at one party I attended towards the end of my service, one of my friends suddenly showed me on his phone a message that Baba Elazar was murdered, and this deeply affected me. I immediately left and went home, not understanding how such a great righteous person could be murdered. The only answer I had was that it was to atone for us, and I said to myself that if he gave his life for me, then I must be worthy of it and strengthen in observing the commandments. To be honest, this was also the first time my return came from a deep, internal place. Outwardly, I still looked secular, but internally and in terms of what I did, I was already in it."

When did the internal change begin to show on the outside?

"One of my good friends returned to religion a few years before me. He studied at 'A Thread of Kindness,' the yeshiva of Rabbi Shalom Arush in Jerusalem where I still have the privilege of learning, and when he would return to Beersheba for Shabbat, we would meet and talk, and occasionally he invited me for Shabbat at their yeshiva. After several invitations, I finally came, and I felt a great light, strong prayers, melodies, lessons by the rabbi, and more."

"In one of our conversations after that Shabbat, I told him that I couldn't find myself, that I felt only the Torah filled me, and he suggested I come and study at the yeshiva properly. I told him I'd think about it, and after a few days, I called him and asked if I could come. He, of course, said yes, I arrived, and then the evil inclination started working as it knows. It told me it wouldn't be good for me there, and I said 'Okay, I’m going only for a day or two, and if I don’t like it, I’ll return to Beersheba.' Even when I changed into black and white clothes, it stirred, so to calm it, I left two pairs of jeans and a T-shirt in the closet and told it that I could return to them whenever I pleased."

"I enjoyed being at the yeshiva and decided to stay. I deleted Facebook and Instagram even though it pained me, I had many followers there and wanted them to stay for the music, but I understood it was the right thing to do. Naturally, I also changed my mobile device and bought a kosher device. This brought a lot of peace into my life, suddenly I felt at ease, calm, that I could focus on what really matters and consider things with a peaceful mind."

Returning to Music

"I arrived at the yeshiva at 23," Harush continues, "During these years, thank Hashem, I also got married and started a family. After two years in the yeshiva - during which I didn’t touch music at all - there came a time where I was writing a song almost every day. My connection with music started young because we listened to a lot at home, and the creative aspect began developing when I was 17. Later, I bought a guitar and learned to play through the internet until I managed to hold basic chords. Additionally, I've always found it easy to articulate, so I tried writing and composing, and it went well. After the army, I formed a small band that performed in various places, and I went to record some songs with producer Nadav Beaton, songs I shelved after my return to religion."

What brought you back to music after two years at the yeshiva?

"The songs started coming out of me again, the urge came back suddenly, so I went to the rabbi and asked what to do with it, and he said that I must publish the songs. He said they aren’t mine; they belong to all of Israel, and that's how I understood it was part of my service to Hashem. I prayed to Hashem for assistance and to find good people to help me and funds to finance it, and thank Hashem, it happened. At that time, I saw that a producer named Maor Shushan was signing many big artists' songs and remembered someone by that name from the studio when I recorded with Nadav."

"I called him and asked if he remembered me, he said sure and asked what happened to me. I told him I returned to religion, and he told me he had also strengthened in faith. We arranged study sessions at his studio, and every week we learned *Gemara* and then recorded something. After a few months, I managed to arrange a certain amount of money, told him I wanted to release a single, and he encouraged me to go for a whole album. I told him I wouldn’t have enough money for that, but he liked the songs and believed in me and said we would start working and sort out the finances when needed. And that’s exactly what we did. We released the first songs, and he also helped me understand what to do with them post-release and how to distribute them. After some time, we parted ways for various reasons but stayed good friends until today."

Tracing Lost Connections

"Like everyone, corona caught me unprepared," Harush continues, "and it hit artists and cultural workers especially hard. The song 'In the End It Will Be Good' had been ready for a while, but we hadn’t released it because there were significant costs involved, and also because you want to perform after releasing a new song, but everything was shut down. At that time, my wife wasn’t working either, but at some point, I decided to release it. I knew it was an optimistic song that would make people feel good, and I aimed to honor heavens. We released it with almost no PR and advertisement, just minimal efforts, and suddenly the song gained traction. Every day, I saw at least ten thousand new views on YouTube. Today it's different, but back then, I wasn't used to such numbers. The song quickly hit a million views, and people began telling me they heard it everywhere."

I assume the song's success made you feel good about it and boosted your confidence.

"It definitely strengthened me. I saw it as a sign from the heavens, and responses kept pouring in from the ground. People told me how the song touched them, how it strengthened them. For me, it was at levels I never thought a song could reach, especially not one of mine. When the song came out, I was fully immersed in my Torah studies, learning in a *kollel* for teaching, and I reached a significant crossroads, needing to decide whether to invest more in music. For a newly religious person, this is not an easy decision to go back to such a world, but I realized it was my mission and knew I had the tools to do it right this time. To date, I've released nine songs, some aimed at the Orthodox audience, others at more distant audiences, and the latest song I just released a few days ago is called 'Mine Today,' which focuses on the holy Torah. Beyond that, I also get invitations to perform, and all this brings me immense satisfaction."

By the way, concerning success in the music field and all that comes with it, don't you miss having your father in the picture and taking part in your life?

"The truth is, most years I didn’t think about him much, and even now it doesn't occupy me too much. However, during a certain period when I was in the army, I got curious and googled his name and found him on LinkedIn. I sent him a message, he wrote back that he'd been waiting a long time for me to get in touch, but I didn’t really believe him because he never showed interest. We talked a bit, but it was hard to maintain a connection, and a year later I flew to visit my family in the Netherlands. My uncle, my mother's brother, has lived there for many years. I asked my rabbi if it made sense to meet my father, and he said yes, so I arranged to meet him."

"One day, my dad came to my uncle's house, I opened the door for him, and he hugged me with tears. I can't say I felt the same, but I returned the hug because I respected him. We went to a nearby cafe, talked a lot about my mother, and he told me things I didn’t know, and even showed me pictures I had never seen. It was nice meeting him, but we haven’t kept in touch since. After all, we live in different countries, and I’m less connected online. However, his kids, who are my half-siblings, sometimes write to me saying they listen to my songs and love them, so we correspond occasionally. Life in this world is very complex, but if you look closely, you'll see that a lot of good surrounds us all the time."