On an abandoned tank in the verdant Golan, where the tribe of Menashe grazed his sheep
In Yerushalyim's Old City-Chabad Street
“Welcome home.”
These simple words are sweet to the ear, but leave me perplexed: Are these the words that caused my heart to pound and a boyish smile to play—and remain plastered—upon my lips, as the plane began its final descent to the Holy land, Eretz Yisrael, Israel, our Jewish homeland, land of ancient prophecies and modern miracles?
Or are these those inevitable words—albeit kinds words—that bring me back to my regular blessed life, my precious family, my dear community, marking the close of 10 days of intense emotion and passion, enjoyment and celebration, solidarity and spirituality, unity and unforgettable energy spent together with 300 other Jews from across the globe—300 people from disparate backgrounds, all on a unified mission and goal, to inspire and be inspired, to encourage and be encouraged, to drink of the holiness and capture the spirit of a land steeped in our history and brimming with our future?
Yes, I am on a high. I have just returned from leading a solid group of people—friends, really—from Chabad of Mission Viejo on JLI’s Land and the Spirit trip to Israel that has left me energized and inspired and aching for more; with vivid memories and tender emotions. What can I share, what can I not share? I don’t know where to begin or where to end.
Do I tell of climbing the stairs into the winding cobblestoned alleyways of the mystical old city of Tzfat, hearing whispers of the saintly Arizal’s welcoming the Shabbat on that very hillside, with his contemporary’s 16th century composition, Lecha Dodi? Or of seeing the fresh shrapnel hole in the side of the synagogue bimah, shrapnel from the Katyushas of 2006 which miraculously missed a congregant by inches, only because he bowed forward in prayer at the precise moment? And then I ask myself, can I even do justice with those tales to depict the character of that special place with special people or to describe the full extent of our experience in Tzfat?
This dilemma is not unique to Tzfat. A small book would do better justice to our trip than a short article. For now, I will suffice with portraying some highlights, using a colleague’s notes as a basis.
A late 19th century tourist of the Holy Land, Mark Twain, wrote of the Jews:
“The Egyptian, the Babylonian, and the Persian rose, filled the planet with sound and splendor, then faded to dream-stuff and passed away; the Greek and the Roman followed, and made a vast noise, and they are gone; other peoples have sprung up and held their torch high for a time, but it burned out, and they sit in twilight now, or have vanished. The Jew saw them all, beat them all, and is now what he always was…All things are mortal but the Jew; all other forces pass, but he remains. What is the secret of his immortality?"
Perspective.
We stood in Tel Dan archeological nature reserve, where tribe of Dan had settled due to the area’s security and lushness, amid the excavation of homes and fortresses that were already old when the Babylonians invaded and conquered. Under the shadow of the hostile Syrian border that lay clear within sight, we walked through the foliage with nonchalance, occasionally stepping on smooth wet stones to cross the gushing stream of fresh water that had likely hydrated our ancestors.
We stood in the remains of the synagogue on Masada, as our extremely talented guide, Arye, described the vibrant Jewish life, the bravery, and the sad ending of those first century warriors who had held out against the Romans in their hilltop fortress. We learned how their piety was their ultimate downfall: they refused to roll boulders down upon their brethren below, who were being forced by the crafty Romans to build what all knew would prove to be the final devastating blow—the assault ramp. Official dead-sea-region rabbis (Chabad representatives) shared with us that prominent among the few scrolls that survived the Roman pillage was the Ezekiel’s vision of the bones. The prophet told of seeing a valley of dry, dead bones and how before his very eyes these bones grew flesh and skin and rose to life. G-d thus assured Ezekiel of His nation’s future rejuvenation.
In that moment, we all saw ourselves as the fulfillment of that prophecy—in us, the dry bones of the Jewish people had been restored to life once again. Right there, tour participants, overcome with emotion and the gravity of the moment, rolled up their sleeves and lined up to do what their besieged ancestors did in that very spot 2000 years earlier until their last breath: Tefillin. We, only we, are the continuing links in the long glorious chain of our history; ours is the link to the future.
We visited the grave of Maimonides and other Talmudic Scholars in Tiberius. Inscribed near the tomb are those famous words of Maimonides’ day, “From Moshe (Moses) till Moshe (Maimonides) there were none like Moshe (in scholarship and leadership, caring for and teaching the smallest and most prominent of our people). For us, these teachers have never died. Their words have been in our minds in our studies, our JLI courses, and their thoughts are as fresh, relevant and inspiring today as they were when they walked these places themselves.
Hebron was a highlight for us all, the place where our history in the land began with Abraham and Sarah. The Cave of Machpelah was the first land Avraham acquired, to be a gravesite for his wife and the matriarchs and patriarchs, even before the fulfillment of G-d’s promise to return it to his children. The 2000 year old Herodian structure built over the site stands testament to its undisputed importance even then, and the story of Caleb’s visit to pray at this site 3319 years ago veritably comes to life. Hundreds of years later it was here that a member of Caleb’s tribe, King David, began his rule of the Jewish people. In Avraham Avinu’s Shul we heard of the time (during the Middle Ages?) that Avraham came back to earth to help complete the struggling Hebron Yom Kippur minyan, and we viewed a Torah scroll, housed in an aged, ornate silver case, that survived the Spanish expulsion in 1492. When we walk through the streets of Hebron and listen to its story, it becomes crystal clear in our hearts and minds that Jewish presence in Chevron is not only crucial to Israel’s security and to our national historical identity, but it is also most natural and just.
In Hebron’s old city, we toured Beit Hadassah, which hosts a museum of the massacre of 1929, when more than sixty Jews were killed and the rest, raped, beaten and robbed, were driven away by Arabs to be relocated by the apathetic British bystanders. In the courtyard there now stands a playground where mothers watch their children playing in the sun, running past a plaque that dedicates this play space to the memory of ten-month old Shalhavet Paz, who was murdered by an Arab sniper in more recent days. We could hear the energetic voices of other, older children, crowded around their holy-books at their lessons in school. Jewish vengeance—a child is murdered, and we respond by increasing life and joy and children, and increasing their defense.
We met many of the fascinating, stalwart members of the Hebron community, including the perpetually smiling Chabad representatives Rabbi Danny and Batsheva Cohen, who provide a warm and friendly home to the many young IDF soldiers stationed there, and help to give meaning to their service. The graffiti, boarded up storefronts and general areas of imposed dereliction in Hebron is shocking, but its spirit and the spirit of its people is extraordinary.
On Friday night, we walked through the Old City to the Western Wall to pray. Thousands of Jews from all over the world, with one common background, merged to form one ocean of song and prayer. We danced happily, exhilarated, against the brightened backdrop of this holy place left as a ruin by empires that vanished long ago. Bonei Yerushalayim: May G-d rebuild Jerusalem and restore it to its rightful state of glory, and return his divine presence to Israel.
We sat in Jerusalem together at the concluding banquet and heard Rabbi Lau, a former Chief Rabbi, speak of what makes us survive and overcome. He himself is among those who were like dry bones, a child Holocaust survivor, who saw a new life come to the Jewish people in their own Land after the death and destruction of the Holocaust.
Rabbi Amar, the Sefardic Chief Rabbi, spoke to us there of the Passover Haggada’s words that tell us the secret of our survival: Vehi she’amda la’avoteinu—G-d’s promise has stood by our ancestors and by us; we too must pitch in and stand by our promise to live as G-d’s people.
On our last day, shortly before we left, we joined 300 soldiers of the IDF at their base for a barbecue. Here are people who put their lives on the line every day for the sake of the Jewish people, living examples of our age-old response to G-d’s commitment to us. No matter what the odds, no matter who may stand against us, we will live and our message of life and its spirit will triumph. We thanked them, we hugged them, we took photos with them, all the while they insisting that it is we who deserve the thanks for visiting them, encouraging them and giving them a day enjoyment.
In the dust of an old army jeep, soldiers laid down their guns and rolled up their khaki sleeves to put on a weapon of a different kind: Tefillin. We sang and danced and rapped together in the brilliant spring sunshine. Black-hatted rabbis, green-bereted soldiers and assorted laymen locked arms together and declared, Am Yisrael chai!—the Jewish people live! Indeed may each of them, amongst all of us, live and be well, in all senses of the word.
We arrived home with a sense that the Land of Israel is the pulsing heart of the spiritual universe. Every time we make a choice to learn and to live as a Jew, we join that dancing circle celebrating the triumph of life over all evil.
We laughed together, we cried together, but most importantly we grew together – in our knowledge and in our commitment to Israel and Judaism.
Leshana haba’a birushalayim—May we celebrate Pesach even this year in a rebuilt, secure and safe Jerusalem, and may Hashem give strength to His people and bless His nation in peace.
The trip may have ended but the experience is only just beginning. If you'd like to join us on our next visit, please email chabad@chabadofmv.com.
One day I might have time to also share with you our experience in getting to Israel; modern Israel's advances; jeeping in the Golan heights and overlooking valley of tears; Rochel’s tomb; the Temple tunnels; Yad Vashem Holocast memorial; another Massada story; interaction with the people of Israel; Bibi Netanyahu’s talk; cruising on the Kinneret; Miracles; the Cardo and the Jewish Quarter; the “West Bank”; life at Kibbutz Lavi; more about Tzfat; a taxi-bus experience; etc. For now, I thought this would be a good beginning.
Park in Tel Aviv.
Kosher Burger king (not mehadrin >-{ )
Little synagogue near Great synagogue of Tel Aviv. (has been closed for some years.)
Great Synagogue of Tel Aviv. (Main entrance). Week day minyan is thru a small door on the left side. Shabbat minyan in thru the door at the top of the stair pictured.
