Breishit bara Elohim… in the beginning God created…u-v’yom ha-shvi’I, sha-vat va’yi-nafash…and on the 7th day, God rested… SHABBAT! And so too did your rabbi rest from blogging. So where did I leave off?
After leaving the Kotel/Western Wall on Friday where we welcomed in Shabbat amongst the throngs of others who had come to do the same, we wove our way back through the Old City to the home of Hadar and Roni who welcomed us into their home for Shabbat dinner. It was a treat, to say the least! Homemade challah, plates and plates of beautiful and lovingly prepared food, wine. We sang, we ate, we blessed. It is always so lovely to be in the home of folks who live here and share their hospitality and experience with us. Roni and our guide, Avi, are in the same IDF unit and Roni is a chef by training. One of the special elements of this solidarity trip is that Avi was able to leverage some of the relationships that he has through his army service to enable us to experience things we otherwise would not have the chance, and to meet amazing individuals doing incredible things. One of the members of Avi’s unit, Aron, in his “spare time” rescues remaining Jews from the Sudan and brings them to Israel. He was able to share pictures and stories with us. In addition to ensuring the survival of our Jewish homeland, these soldiers are humans doing amazing things in their everyday lives.
Shabbat morning meant sleeping in and, for me, prime time for a beautiful, long run through the Jerusalem Forest, one of my favorite places to go on Shabbat when the cars are few on the roads and something I used to do as a rabbinic student living in Jerusalem almost 30 years ago. Shabbat afternoon, several of us met Avi for a walking tour that would allow us a unique experience to wander through one of the oldest ultra-orthodox neighborhoods of Jerusalem, Mea Shearim. I have many colleagues, especially female ones, who won’t step food in an ultra-orthodox neighborhood, and for good reason. Sociologically, I find the ultra-orthodox fascinating and I could stand on a street corner and observe for hours and hours. (For a great read on the ultra-orthodox, check out Samuel Heilman's Defenders of the Faith.)
Dressed in our most modest and conservative clothing, we made our way into the streets of Mea Shearim, and stepped into what might feel like a movie set to some and an alternative universe to others. Because it was Shabbat, men, women and children were walking to and fro, the men in their black or golden coats, black hats, some with their huge fur hats called shtreimels; women covered head to toe and in their Shabbat finery, young kids the mirror image of their parents. The ultra-orthodox are not keen to groups walking through their neighborhood. Not only do they not want to feel like there are on display (understandable), but they are not interested in outsiders poisoning the proverbial waters, if you will.
It’s important to remember that many in the ultra-orthodox community are anti-Zionists. They believe that when we(humans) created the Jewish State, it interfered with what should rightfully be something done by God, and that the current State of Israel is a devil/bastard version of what the Messiah will one day cause to be. Never mind that they have no problem benefiting from government funding and refuse to serve in the military, an issue at the forefront of Israeli society today. I was shocked to see several Palestinian flags in the neighborhood as we strolled quickly through. Avi shared that many in the community are more supportive of the Palestinian cause than they are of Israel, as they feel that had Israel not been created “in sin” in 1948, there would not be the same strife with Palestinians. These are the same Jews whom the current Prime Minister, Benjamin Netanyahu, continues to appease in order to maintain his coalition and remain in power as PM. And it just gets more interesting and more complicated…
We exited Mea Shearim and stepped into East Jerusalem heading towards the Damascus Gate in order to enter the Old City. One of us mentioned that it was more comfortable to stand a kilometer from Gaza than to walk through Mea Shearim where we were clearly unwanted and unappreciated. And Avi said the same about being in East Jerusalem, that it was more comfortable than strolling through Mea Shearim. As we walked into the Old City, through the Damascus Gate, we saw Palestinians and Muslims also enjoying their day of rest, selling wares and visiting with one another. Israeli police were visible to maintain the peace, but the only action of provocation that we encountered was from a group of rowdy yeshiva boys, marching 4-5 across through the main road of the Muslim quarter singing Zionists songs at the top of their lungs. The police stayed close by in case their provocation caused a violent reaction, which it did not. I asked Avi if he felt that kind of thing was (excuse my French) shitty. He said (this won’t surprise you) “it’s complicated.” On the one hand, no, he doesn’t like it. Why do they need to be provocative? It’s ugly behavior. On the other hand, Muslim/Palestinian provocation near the Damascus gate often takes the form of violence or stabbings, so given that reality, singing Zionist songs doesn’t feel so terrible. We noticed several Israeli flags in the Muslim quarter and Avi explained that during Ariel Sharon’s time as Prime Minister, he really encouraged Jews to buy residences in the Muslim quarter, which Sharon did himself as well. It feels to me like a significant slight (aka middle finger) to the Muslim community and an ugly way of saying “this is all ours and won’t ever be yours,” but what do I know? I am often wrong and have certainly changed my thinking about a lot with regards to Israel over the last 10-20 years. It is our only Jewish nation and while the ideal would be to share it in peace, perhaps that is a fantasy reserved for dreamers only. Sigh.
The day ended with many in our group making havdallah and journeying just outside of Jerusalem to Gush Etzion to make a barbeque dinner for on-duty soldiers. It’s the only picture from the day because… Shabbat!
On Sunday morning, our last day of the trip, we bid farewell to the best breakfast buffet on the planet (sniff, sniff) and headed back towards Tel Aviv for a day of learning and volunteering. Our first stop was the ANU Museum which I had visited long ago but was delighted to tour again and has added a powerful exhibit on October 7th. The ANU Museum, formerly known as the Diaspora Museum (ANU means "all of us" in Hebrew) has been renamed to capture the fact that the Jewish people is all Jews-- all denominations, all countries of origin.
It’s a beautiful building on the campus of Tel Aviv University. At the end of our tour at the museum, we said goodbye to our guard and new beloved friend, Almog. Almog has also training to be a guide and is in the same unit with Avi. Before taking his leave of our group, Almog shared a personal story. He said that his wife’s brother’s parents were murdered at Kibbutz Kfar Aza on the morning of October 7th. He didn’t tell us this when we were touring the kibbutz on Thursday morning because it’s still very raw for him. When that happened, he was given leave from his unit to attend the funeral and shiva. Almog and his family are what is known in Israel as chiloni, secular Jews. And the way he explained it, he said that his brother-in-law and his BIL’s family were very secular. When he was there for shiva, two ultra-orthodox men came to visit and Almog was instantly protective and angry, assuming that the men were there to explain how things should be done religiously and impose their form of Judaism on his family. To Almog’s surprise, they simply wanted to convey their condolences, to let the family know that “we are one big family” and that they were truly sorry for the loss. Almog was shocked. In that moment, he was comforted by and reminded of the fact we are am echad, truly one people, all connected by a shared beginning and a shared destiny.
From there, we travelled north to the Leket facility and distribution center. Leket is a food rescue non-profit. They feed 330 thousand people a week. On October 7th, they began feeding displaced people. They are fully donation based. Shira, our representative at Leket, told us that one of the goals of Hamas on October 7th was to destroy Israel’s agriculture production. 75% of Israel’s vegetables are grown along the Gaza border. On October 7th, they burned fields and destroyed agricultural equipment. Thai workers have supplied a lot of the farm work labor in Israel and 30000 Thai workers were called back to Thailand after October 7th. Israeli tanks going to fight the war in Gaza have further destroyed the land along the border of the strip. Yet another layer to the complexity of this current matzav that we don’t know or think about. Layers upon layers of complexity. Leket has sent 100 thousand volunteers to farms in the south to support the farmers, and now some up north as well. Their work allows people to actually eat produce and vegetables who otherwise couldn’t. Our group spent our time at the facility packing avocados. We packed over 3000 pounds of avocados which will feed approximately 800 families.
From Leket, we travelled to central Tel Aviv to visit Hostage Square. This is where the families of those murdered and kidnapped on October 7th have set up tents and created art installations to keep the reality of 101 remaining hostages in tunnels in Gaza in the forefront of our minds (the world) and the minds of members of Israeli parliament. As I write this blog, it’s been 407 days of captivity for those still stolen away in Gaza. 407 days, 60 meters below the earth’s surface. We stopped to talk with one gentleman from Kibbutz Be’eri which was ravaged on that fateful morning. His grandchildren were kidnapped along with their mother, father, and grandmother. Four. members of the family were returned in the early hostage deal in November of 2023. The granddaughter, Yael, was 3 when she was taken, and her brother was 7. During the 55+ days they were captives, they were not permitted to speak. When they returned, they still did not speak out of fear. Both have significant lingering issues and difficulties as a result of their trauma from that time. And they are just 2.
After a parting dinner together, we are off to the airport for our respective flights back to the States. This was undoubtedly one of the more impactful trips to Israel that I have taken, although I have truly loved every trip for different reasons. Every single Israeli we met thanked us profusely for coming. All we could say was thank you in return for safeguarding our home. It has been a week of mutual appreciation. What I can say with certainty is that coming to Israel has been a homecoming, and that Israel needs us to come as much as I needed to be here.