Dear Friends,
I am just back from time in Maryland and Israel with Sherri.
Our trip to Israel was only six days - my shortest trip to Israel - and was full of adventures, some planned, and some very much unexpected.
We went for the wedding of one of Sherri's closest friend, which was a lovely Orthodox Yemenite wedding which took place in Rehovot. The hall was gorgeous, the food exquisite, the band fabulous, and I'm glad we were able to celebrate with Daniela and Shai. We spent time in Jerusalem, Tel Aviv, Rehovot, Netanya, Nazareth, Afula, Tiberias, and other places in-between.
Like every trip to Israel, ours was a mix of ancient and modern. One can't walk the streets of Jerusalem and not feel the magnitude of thousands of years of Jewish history. The land breathes holiness and history. We went to the Old City, and for the first time in my ten visits, I didn't go to the Kotel, the Western Wall. We were short on time, and, admittedly, given Prime Minister Netanyahu's recent decision to postpone the agreement to enhance the egalitarian prayer space at Robinson's Arch, I wasn't feeling the need to go to the Kotel this time around. (Truth is, sometimes I find great meaning and connection at the Kotel, and sometimes I wonder why we're spending so much time praying at and arguing about a wall, though that is a sermon for another time).
We also spent time in Nazareth, and toured the Basilica of the Annunciation and Mount Precipice, two sights of importance to Christian history. (According to my old friend Rabbi Wiki of Pedia, Catholic history notes that the Basilica was built atop the site of Mary's childhood home, and was where she was visited by the Angel Gabriel, who announced her pregnancy and Jesus's upcoming birth. Mount Precipice was the site where Jesus was rejected by the people of Nazareth, and at least according to some traditions, Jesus lept off the mountain to escape them). I hadn't been to Nazareth before. We happened to book a room there in a lovely Arab guest house and they recommended those two sights, which were gorgeous. Again, I couldn't help but feel as if I was walking in a museum masquerading itself as a country.
It's easy to love the ancient history, the archaeology, the air, the smell of Jerusalem on Shabbes, and the mystical connection to the city of Jerusalem and the Land of Israel. For thousands of years our people have cried out to return to the land, and now we have, what a mechaya, what a gift of life. We love this Israel, the Israel of our hopes and dreams, history, and yearnings.
And yet, Israel today is much more than a land of ancient history. It's a real country where people live, get married, drive cars, dance, pay taxes, yell, hurt each other, and much more. Israel today is a country like any other, and also a country like no other. Thursday night when we arrived there was an all-night festival on the streets of Tel Aviv, with thousands upon thousands of people listening to music and enjoying the nighttime air. On Friday we went to an artists shuk in Tel Aviv and saw many artists selling their wares, many offering religiously-inspired trinkets to decorate homes, millenia of Jewish history and ritual available for only a few shekels. On Shabbat in Jerusalem, many people go to shul and walk outside in the fresh air and relatively car-less streets. On Shabbat afternoon, an old train station reborn as a cultural center and outdoor market opens, with music playing and hundreds if not thousands of people walking around. At the wedding on Sunday the band played for about four hours and even though I consider myself well-versed in Jewish music, I only recognized a few of the melodies they played. It's easy for me to fall in love with this Israel, where our people from around the globe have come and settled and found new meaning for Jewish rituals and spaces for music, art, poetry, dance, Shabbes, and living a Jewish life. Judaism reborn and alive with possibility. This Israel I also love.
Yet Israel is not just for the Jews. Friday on our way to the Old City in Jerusalem, we took Google Maps's suggestion to drive through the Arab neighborhood of Abu Tor. We hesitated for a moment, wondering whether to go in. I thought we'd be fine - we'd only be driving there for ten minutes in the middle of the day. We were almost out when one boy emerged from a group, ran over to the car, and tore off part of the back windshield wiper. We sped away and got out as quickly as we could, unsettled by what had just taken place, and knowing that had the other members of the group picked up rocks, the situation could have been much worse. I shudder to think of the despair this child must live in and the hatred he must be taught for him to logically conclude that destroying someone else's car is an acceptable sign of resistance to the realities of the life he faces. I almost wanted to get out of the car, to plead with him not for my sake but for his own, that he needed to hold on to his humanity at all costs. I wanted to reach his parents, the mayor, and the Israeli and Palestinian leadership and say how dare you all allow such a situation to continue (regardless of who is at fault, of which there is more than enough to go around). This Israel is very hard to love. Whether necessary or not, checkpoints, settlement building, and even the daily minutiae of who can walk on what street and attend which school and who has electricity and food and who doesn't and how can this holy land possibly become a land of peace with all the hatred being taught inside it by too many on all sides, including our own? It's hard to love this Israel. This Israel breeds mistrust, hatred, doubt, and fear of the other. After Abu Tor, we wondered, was staying in Nazareth, a largely Muslim town, a good idea? Was it safe to leave our car outside? Thankfully it was and our hosts and others were delightful. It saddens me that we even thought about it, and yet, we'd have been crazy not to do so. When will it end? When will there be peace?
Anyone who wants a real Israeli experience can find one driving around for six days and trying to understand how and where to park. I think with only two parking tickets we may have gotten off easy. (Is legible signage too much to ask?) Anyone looking to understand how Israelis who may seem macho and cold on the outside will also give you the shirt off their backs to help you might choose to drop their car keys in a stream of dirty water, never to be found again. Several families lent us their phones and spent probably half an hour on the phone with the rental car company trying to help them understand where we were, and then driving us to a place where the rental agency staff could meet us since they had spent 2.5 hours driving around trying to find us to no avail (our cell phones were in the locked car). And then after spending hours trying to find us, the two gentleman drove us an hour and stayed on the job late to make sure we got a replacement car and could get to our destination safely. They even offered to stop for dinner along the way, since they knew we hadn't had a thing to eat for hours.
When we were on our way to the wedding, we couldn't find the hall. Turns out it was above a car dealership and grocery store, and there was no sign on the outside that weddings took place on the roof. We stopped at a gas station, and two Ethiopians invited us to follow them so we could get to the ceremony on time. When I got stung by a medusa, a jellyfish in the Mediterranean, Sherri and the lifeguards made sure I had what I needed to get better (I'm fine, thanks). This Israel, where everyone is family, the door is always open for more Shabbes guests, and everyone takes care of one another, this Israel is easy to love.
Israel is a country of pioneering agricultural, medical, technical, and engineering achievements. What they've been able to achieve in 70 years is astounding. And yet, Israel is a country of tremendous poverty, homelessness, hunger, despair, and violence.
I think too often the so-called debates around Israel become more complex as we mix metaphors of the mythic Israel of our dreams and the messy Israel of today's reality. It's hard to separate the two. I think America shares the same challenge. America is a shining example of truth, liberty, and the American way, except that it's not for too many of its inhabitants. Israel is not perfect, nor is America. With all its challenges, I love being there - this was my tenth trip and I'm sure there'll be more. It is a blessing and a gift that the State of Israel exists. I yearn for a time when I can love all of it, when all can live in peace and freedom.
It's easy to love the parts of Israel we want to see. It's harder to love those parts that challenge the stories we've learned and told ourselves about Israel. Those stories we've carried are powerful and meaningful, yet sometimes they cloud our visions. I want desperately for those stories to be true. I want the Biblical visions of a land at peace, with freedom for all its inhabitants (except of course for the ones who were killed or evicted to create said peace).
Yet if there's one thing I know it's that our job is to lift up the words of the prophets and spread them throughout the world. If the world is still messy and broken, then it's our job to help God fix it. Israel uplifts us and unites us and sometimes divides us and maybe that's okay, though sometimes it's not.
Which Israel do I love? Can I love even the messy, difficult, calm-shattering, anxiety-producing realities of modern life in Israel? Maybe, maybe not. And maybe it doesn't matter. I love being in Israel, and maybe that's enough. Maybe instead of a grand unifying myth we can each find our own place with Israel, loving it, challenging it to be what we hope it can yet become.
Each time I visit Israel, I am changed by my encounters with its land and its people.
I will not soon forget this visit, and I'm grateful for the opportunity to bask in all of its messy, complicated, holy and unholy realities.
May the day yet come when the Israel of our dreams and the modern state of Israel unite as one. Until that day comes, I shall carry Israel with me, loving it every way I can.
Shabbat Shalom,
Rabbi Ilan
