In Parshat VaYishlach, Jacob feared the worst upon going to see Esau. He divided his camp into half, thinking if one half is murdered the other half will survive. However, he got an unexpected, good outcome-his brother hugged and kissed him, and they cried. If we put aside the midrashic take that Esau tried to bite Jacob and Jacob’s neck turned to marble (so Esau cried over his teeth being broken), the situation is a reconciliation. Esau even offered for Jacob to join him and to send men to accompany Jacob and his family.
Like Jacob, I was uncertain and anxious for my trip to Israel for the Rabbinical Assembly convention, as this was my first time in Israel since October 7th. Last time I visited was after a war, Guardian of the Walls in 2021, also on a too short 4-day trip. This time Israel is still at war, I was excited to go but nervous at the same time. I could sense Jacob’ anxiety and trepidation before his encounter with Esau. While I was not surprised by how quiet it was, I was saddened to see firsthand how hard the tourism industry has been hit. Ben Yehuda Street was empty, and the shuk wasn’t booming. It felt too quiet, and I hope tourism will return.
There were so many things during the visit that inspired me, and I will focus on my visit to the Gaza Envelope. For me this was the most important part of the trip. We began at Kibbutz Ruhama, where 70 percent of the kibbutzniks from Kfar Aza are living temporarily until their kibbutz is restored. A kibbutz of just over 800 people suddenly had to absorb 115 families, a microcosm of what Israel as a whole went through in absorbing 800,000 Jews from Arab countries in the late 1940s and early 1950s. The residents of Kibbutz Ruhama have done so with happiness, rolling up their sleeves and getting to work in building temporary housing. We joined them for one morning, making benches for the new, temporary residents. It was a sign that no matter how much destruction occurs, we will rebuild. Even in the midst of fear of terror attacks and missile strikes, this land is home to the residents, most of whom would never think of leaving.
This was echoed by our visit to Sderot, the closest city to Gaza. I had been to some of the kibbutzim bordering Gaza which are closer to the border, most recently to Kfar Aza, but never to Sderot, where you have 9 seconds to get into a bomb shelter after hearing the siren. Seeing the indoor playground, built by Jewish National Fund as a refuge for kids waiting out the missiles, reminded me of an important lesson: when there is so much uncertainty and PTSD, you need to create a sense of normalcy. We went afterwards to the Sderot police station, which had been taken over by Hamas who put a sniper on top of the building. We learned how Israel destroyed the police station on October 7th in order to take out the terrorists and a brave policeman who had been in synagogue earlier in the day got to the 3rd floor and took out the sniper. We saw the “Eternal Pillars” memorial, made out of 18 pillars, itself symbolic of the Hebrew word חי-life, The inside of the pillars spelled out the words עם ישראל חי-the people of Israel live. What was most significant to me was seeing the mural chosen by the residents of Sderot: A Torah scroll with the letters flying to heaven. It comes from the story of Hananiah ben Teradion, who upon gruesomely being burnt by the Romans while wrapped in a Torah scroll, told his students, “The Hebrew letters are flying upwards”-in other words, they are eternal and can never be taken away from us. One thing which is certain in all the craziness of life is our rootedness to Torah and to our tradition.
The most inspiring part of the trip was visiting the Adi Negev center, the only rehabilitation center in the south of Israel. It has 170 residents, 190 special education students (from toddlers to 21 years of age), an integrated kindergarten and the only rehabilitation hospital in the south of Israel. What Adi Negev teaches is that everyone, no matter what disabilities or special needs they have, is of equal worth. As founder Doron Almog used as his motto, “don’t leave anyone behind.” I learned how Adi Negev gives hands-on training to those with disabilities in gardening, taking care of the animals and innovative therapies (equine, sports and hydro, not to mention a therapeutic petting zoo), to enable people written off by society to exceed far beyond expectations. I saw a walker that grows alongside a child with frequent scans of their exoskeleton and shoe sizes-the walker expands as they grow. Some of these children were told they never could walk and yet they are able to with the walker’s help. I learned that if one is accepted by the government to Adi Negev, it is free for life. The Israeli government takes the most expensive and complicated part of life and makes it the least expensive and least complicated. I learned of the miracle in that Adi Negev, despite having only 7 people with weapons trying to guard 40 acres, got through October 7th untouched, with Hamas Humvees passing by targeting army bases in Ofakim beginning at 7am. At 6:55 am 2 vans passed with 50 Adi Negev workers entered unscathed. As the guide said, he feels they have a different Iron Dome: divine providence looking out for them because of what they do. While I’m not certain that I agree with his theology, especially as a care worker named Tina who left Adi Negev at 7:00 am was not as fortunate, I was impressed by their incredible work and hope to bring a speaker from Adi Negev to Sacramento.
Two last things which were inspiring-first davening (praying) at the egalitarian Kotel at Robinson’s Arch. This is the southern part of the retaining wall from Second Temple times. The air was fresh, and the temperature was cool, but we had the warmth of colleagues together. I have been to Robinson’s Arch numerous times, yet this time I learned that they have up to 40 B’nai Mitzvah a week and have capacity to hold up to 6 at a time. It is an option I highly recommend for those who want to do a B Mitzvah in Israel.
I also want to mention how exhilarating it was to be with colleagues and singing Aheinu (we are all brothers and sisters) interlocking arms. We did this twice: at the hostage tent outside of the Knesset (Israeli parliament) where we did a brief ceremony imploring to bring the hostages home, and at the closing event. Being with Conservative/Masorti rabbis from all over the world was deeply moving and meaningful, and I don’t take that opportunity for granted.
Like Jacob’s story, this was a trip beginning with uncertainty and ending with joy. I was so glad to have this opportunity to go to Israel. Next time I hope to go with you when we are able to reschedule our congregational trip to Israel. Am Yisrael Chai.
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