Historic "Etzion Block" in the West Bank

On Tuesday, August 12, we set out for the Etzion Block, south of Jerusalem. This is an area of four Jewish towns in the West Bank that were lost to the Arabs in Israel’s 1948 War of Independence and were recovered in the 1967 Six Day War. They are now thriving communities.

On our way out of Jerusalem we drove through a Jewish hilltop neighborhood called Gilo, which sits above the Israeli Arab village of Beit Safafa in the Kidron Valley. All or most of Beit Safafa was always part of Israel and many of its residents work in tourist areas in Jerusalem. The Arab residents of Beit Safafa are Israeli citizens, who vote in elections and enjoy full social benefits.

Gilo used to be shelled frequently from another Arab village across the valley called Beit Jala, which is controlled by the Palestinian Authority. The shelling has mostly stopped since the hills nearby were annexed to Jerusalem, giving Israeli forces a better view of where any shelling might be coming from. The Arab residents of the annexed areas are now Israeli citizens who enjoy the full range of governmental benefits. As we continued out of town, we saw several Arab neighborhoods, some inside Israel's pre-1967 borders and others in the former Jordanian territories. In all of them, the housing looked pretty good. Here's an example:



Our first stop in the Etzion Block was Kfar Etzion, the Israeli Alamo, where the 1948 defenders made a valiant last stand. We saw a documentary on the loss and rebuilding of the town and visited a bunker, used by the defenders, which could be called Israel’s “Alamo”. When the town fell in 1948, fifteen defenders were taken alive to the main square, lined up as if for a photo and then shot. Today Kfar Etzion is a thriving agricultural and light manufacturing community. Some of its products are fruit, turkeys, shoes and barbecue grills.

The rebuilding of Kfar Etzion began in 1967, shortly after the Six Day War. The resettlement of the other nearby towns began in 1977. Both of Israel’s major political parties, Labor and Likud have recognized that the Etzion Block is a unique area with a history which is very meaningful to many Israelis. Even Ehud Barak wasn’t offering to return it in his negotiations with Yassir Arafat in 2000. In the current government, both Prime Minister Ehud Olmert and Defense Minister Ehud Barak have approved additional Jewish construction in the Etzion Block.

From Kfar Etzion we went to Efrat, a community of roughly 10,000 Jews, of whom 95% are Orthodox. There are 23 synagogues in Efrat. The town is surrounded by a security fence, which was penetrated twice during the Intifada. Palestinians do work in Efrat but they must leave their cars at the checkpoints and either walk the rest of the way or get picked up by their Jewish employers. This is just another example of the tension between security and human needs.

We were shown a new emergency medical center that is under construction in Efrat. Our guide, Dr. Peter Abelow, told us that the Palestinians were invited to participate in the building of the hospital but refused because acceptance would indicate acknowledgement of Israeli rule in the area. Nevertheless, when the hospital is opened, it is intended to serve both Arab and Jewish patients.

In Efrat we met with Lenny Ben David, former Deputy Chief of Station at the Israeli embassy in Washington. Today he runs several Internet news services about Israel, most of which are free. I’m planning to sign up for one called “Daily Alert: which summarizes news about Israel for the Conference of Presidents of Major US Jewish Organizations. The website address is: http://www.dailyalert.org/.

Lenny raised our level of concern about a number of issues: the government’s latest negotiations with the Palestinians, the corruption of Israeli public officials and internal tension between the religious/Zionist and secular/post-Zionist camps. One of Lenny’s biggest issues is the creation of perceived weakness. He said that Israel’s withdrawal from Lebanon in 2000 emboldened Yassir Arafat as well as Hezbollah. He said that Israel’s disengagement from Gaza similarly emboldened Hammas and that the recent prisoner exchange with Hezbollah also added to the perception that Israel is weaker than in past periods of conflict.

Lenny was also critical of the US and Europe for being soft on Iran and Russia. He said that US and European inaction concerning Iran’s nuclear program and Russia’s attack on Georgia are being viewed as signs of weakness. He said there are reports that Israel told the US that Iran was the major danger in the Middle East, not Saddam’s Iraq and that the US didn’t anticipate the radical Shiite rebellion in Iraq after Saddam Hussein was removed from power.

Lenny spoke about the pending leadership struggle within Kadima, the party of Prime Minister Olmert, who has announced that he will step down. Lenny said that of the two candidates to succeed Olmert, Foreign Minister Livni wants to make a peace deal with the Palestinians, while Finance Minister Mofaz doesn’t think that Palestinian President Mahmoud Abbas can be a partner for peace.

From Efrat we went to Neve Shalom, a joint Jewish/Arab experimental community located in the West Bank. I’ll discuss that in my next post.

Masada, Ein Gedi and the Dead Sea

On Monday, August 11, we experienced one of the spiritual highlights of our trip. At the crack of dawn we climbed Masada, the desert fortress and palace complex, built by King Herod, which was the final stronghold of the Zealots who rebelled against Rome between 66 CE and 73 CE. As the sun rose over the Dead Sea, we held our Morning Prayer service on the summit. Here we are praying, with my colleagues Irwin Huberman, spiritual leader of the Conservative synagogue in Glen Cove, NY, playing guitar, and Enid Lader, spiritual leader of the Reconstruction synagogue in Wooster, OH, playing the violin.

We were surrounded by Birthright and other youth tour groups, some of whom got up earlier than we did and were already on the summit when we arrived. Some of these young people were quite interested in our service and asked questions. We discovered that one of the youth groups was Russian and that some of the members had never seen or heard a spirited, musical egalitarian service like ours before. After prayers we explored the site. Our guide, Dr. Peter Abelow, showed us that it was very much as described by the Jewish/Roman historian Josephus in his epic work “The Jewish War”. Here are some of the very extensive first century CE ruins:

After touring the ruins, we met a representative of Israel’s National Parks Service, who let us use one of the Torah scrolls that are kept on the summit in a fireproof safe. We read from the weekly portion Vaetchanan (Deuteronomy 4:23 to 7:11) which includes a repetition of the Ten Commandments and the first part of the Shema, the fundamental declaration of the Jewish faith. I had the unique privilege of chanting the Ten Commandments on a site which Jews had lost in ancient times but had now recovered as part of the modern State of Israel.

We descended from Masada by cable car and had breakfast at the youth hotel at its base, on the Dead Sea side. We then traveled to the oasis of Ein Gedi, where our tradition says that the young King David hid from his father-in-law and enemy, King Saul. We joined tourists in the natural pool at the bottom of the waterfall and let the water splash our backs. It was very refreshing after the heat and dust of Masada. Here are some of us in the water with other tourists.

From Ein Gedi we traveled to the Ahava factory outlet on the shores of the Dead Sea. This company makes cosmetic and therapeutic skin care products from the special salts that are found in the sea’s waters and the unique mud which is found in its banks. Unfortunately the sea is losing one meter (39 inches) in depth per year and its banks are receding, due to the increased usage, by Israel and Jordan, of water from the Jordan River, by which it is fed. Various plans have been proposed for replenishing the waters of the Dead Sea. These include bringing water from Eilat, on the Gulf of Aqaba, an arm of the Red Sea, over 100 miles by pipeline or canal. As the Dead Sea is the lowest spot on Earth, 1250 ft below sea level, this is practical, but the cost and environmental impact are being studied.

Because the Dead Sea is 33% saline, vs. the oceans which are 3% saline, the water is very buoyant and a person can float very easily. Here is one of my colleagues reading a magazine while floating in the Dead Sea and two others covered from head to toe in therapeutic mud that they scooped up from the banks of the sea by hand.

From the Dead Sea we returned to Jerusalem, where we were on our own for dinner and shopping. A group of us went to Ben Yehuda Street, an area of popular-priced restaurants and souvenir shops. Our colleagues Jill and Ellie, who had been studying and doing charity work in Israel for about a month, met us for dinner. Here’s the group in front of a restaurant called The Red Heifer, a name which refers to the ancient purification ritual described in Numbers 19.


We didn’t eat there, but went instead to a popular corner restaurant with outdoor seating, in an area of "dance pubs", where we had kosher fajitas and burgers and Israeli beer.

After dinner, we went souvenir shopping. Among the most popular items sold on Ben Yehuda
Street are t-shirts with the logos of American and Canadian sports teams and their names in Hebrew letters. I bought a Yankees t-shirt for myself and a Canadiens t-shirt for my colleague Irwin, who grew up in Montreal. I've said "Go Maple Leafs! " to needle him too many times. For my son, Elliot, I bought a Maccabi Tel Aviv basketball team t-shirt and another one from the Hard Rock Cafe, which is already in Tel Aviv, with the message "Next Year in Jerusalem".

Yad Vashem -- Israel's Holocaust Memorial, Visit to Ethiopian Jews

The final four days of our trip were a flurry of activity. I’m amazed at how many meaningful experiences, and some fun ones also, we were able to cram into a short time. Most nights I got only four hours of sleep. I’m posting my comments and photos for each of these days from home and will do my best to recall the specifics of each day and the flavor of our experiences.

Sunday, August 10 was Tisha b’Av (the 9th day of the Hebrew month of Av), on which we commemorate the destruction of our first Temple, by the Babylonians, in 586 BCE, and our second Temple, by the Romans, in 70 CE. The expulsion of the Jews from Spain, in 1492, occurred on the same date. We began the day with a brief service. It was very subdued compared to our usual spirited singing.

The main event of the day was a trip to Yad Vashem, Israel’s Holocaust memorial and educational center. Although I’ve been reading about the Holocaust and watching movies and TV programs about it since I was a teenager, the exhibits at Yad Vashem gave me an increased sense of the monstrous evil which the Nazis and their collaborators committed against our people and the uniqueness of the systematic extermination which we suffered.

Among the most compelling aspects of Yad Vashem is the collection of video screens showing Holocaust survivors recounting their personal experiences: people being rounded up for deportation to death camps, parents hiding their children before being carried off themselves, Jewish ghettos officials committing suicide rather than fulfilling the Nazi demand to select people from among their fellow Jews for deportation and people whom firing squads missed crawling out of the mass graves. The survivors spoke about the Nazis’ collaborators: Poles, Latvians and others, who helped with the roundup and slaughter of Jews.

No indoor photos are allowed at Yad Vashem. We were allowed to take photos at the outdoor children’s memorial. Here is a wall sculpture, from that exhibit, of the face of a young boy who was exterminated.

From the same complex, here is a photo of the memorial to Janosz Korczak, a Polish Jew and world-renowned pediatrician and teacher, who revolutionized the education of children by empowering them and encouraging greater understanding of their individual needs and desires. Korczak set up many orphanages, which were known for their caring and sensitivity. When the children from the last of these, in the Warsaw ghetto, were scheduled for deportation to a death camp, Korczak was offered an opportunity to escape. He chose instead to stay with “his” children and provide them what comfort he could in their final days. He went to his death with them.

Here is an actual railroad boxcar of the sort used to transport Jews to the death camps. Note the guard booth which has been added on the end of the car.

The last exhibit I visited at Yad Vashem was the outdoor memorial to entire communities which were wiped out after all the Jews were exterminated. The town in Byelorus where my father was born, Dawidgrodek, is listed on a panel facing the one which lists the town in the Polish Ukraine where my mother was born, Korczek.

Yad Vashem was crowded during our visit. Of course, Tisha b’Av is a public holiday in Israel, so many Israelis were free to go there. But most people in the crowds we saw were tourists, including many Birthright groups of young people. We were told that Yad Vashem is a mandatory stop on every Birthright tour. We saw many Israeli soldiers, for whom a visit to Yad Vashem is also mandatory.

Next we traveled to the West Bank Jewish town of Ma’ale Adumim "red heights" (Joshua 18:17), to meet an Ethiopian Jew named Adina, who came to Israel with her family 22 years ago. She said that they didn’t leave Ethiopia due to persecution, but rather because they wanted to live in the Holy Land of the Jewish people. Adina and her family follow the Torah and an oral tradition which appears to have been influenced by rabbinic teachings. Here she is with our guide, Dr. Peter Abelow.

Ma’ale Adumim is a thriving community of 65,000 Jews which has been built on land that was ruled by Jordan prior to 1967. On the way to Ma’ale Adumim, we passed four Arab towns: two on the Jewish side of the security fence and two on the Palestinian side. If Israel ever makes a “land for peace” deal with the Arabs, it is likely that either Ma’ale Adumim will be on the Arab side of the line or at least two of the Arab towns will be on the Israeli side.

From Ma’ale Adumim we traveled to Arad, a desert town from which we would leave for our early morning climb to the ancient fortress of Masada. Our experiences on top of Masada and nearby will be the subjects of my next post.

The Wall, Shabbat and Tisha b'Av

Shalom from Jerusalem!

I’m writing this on Tisha B’Av –the ninth of the Hebrew month of Av—the date on which we commemorate the destruction of our two Temples, in 586 BCE by the Babylonians and in 70 CE by the Romans, as well as the expulsion of the Jews from Spain in 1492 CE. Because last night was Shabbat, I didn’t create a new post. This post represents two days’ activity in Jerusalem.

Yesterday, Friday, we got up early and did our Shacharit (morning) service at the Kotel, the Western Wall of the Temple mount in Roman times. We weren’t at the section that you see most often because it’s run by Orthodox authorities who wouldn’t tolerate a mixed male-female minyan. Instead, we prayed at in area known as Robinson’s arch, after the discoverer of an ancient staircase which carried pedestrians down to the main street of Jerusalem in the days of King Herod. Part of the arch is still attached to the wall. Here we are praying on that former main street, facing the Western Wall:




The reason that the Western Wall is considered the holiest is because it is nearest the location of the “Holy of Holies” in the ancient Temple, where we believe that the Ark of the Covenant was located. It is actually one of four retaining walls that were built by King Herod to support the Temple mount, also called Mount Moriah, the place where tradition says that the Akedah, the binding of Isaac, described in Genesis 22, took place. The “Old City” of Jerusalem is on nearby Mount Zion and the Central Valley, which separates the two mountains, was the main street of King Herod’s Jerusalem. We prayed standing on the original paving stones.

Near Robinson’s arch, we saw the top stone from the southwest corner of the wall. It bears a Hebrew inscription indicating that this is where ancient Levites stood to blow trumpets announcing the beginning of Shabbat and major holidays.

Our next stop was the recently discovered City of David, which is located outside the walls of the Temple mount. Before we could go there, we had to go back to our bus to put away our talisim (prayer shawls) and tefilin (phylacteries—small leather boxes containing Biblical texts, which we strap on for morning prayers). While we were on the bus, which was parked on a hillside, the parking brake gave way and four cars parked behind us were damaged.

The City of David is located in East Jerusalem, which was Jordanian territory until 1967. Archeologists believe that it was the location of King David’s palace and have evidence to support this. One of my previous posts discusses the discovery of the seals of two of King Zedekiah’s ministers, both mentioned in the book of Jeremiah, at this site. Here is our guide, Dr. Peter Abelow standing in front of one of the presumed palace walls and a pillar, which supported the roof of a private home outside the palace walls. He’s speaking from what may be the location of the rooftop on which Bathsheba was seen, by King David, arousing desires which led to his greatest sins, as described in 2 Samuel 11.

From the City of David, we descended into King Hezekiah’s water tunnel. Ancient Jerusalem’s only source of water was in the Kidron Valley, on the east side of the city and outside its walls. We believe that King David captured the city from the Jebusites by penetrating the tunnel which carried water up into the city and taking the defenders by surprise. When the Northern Kingdom of Israel fell to the Assyrians, during King Hezekiah’s time, an influx of refugees caused the city to expand. A new water conduit, protected from access by future enemies, was needed. King Hezekiah had a deeper tunnel built, running nearly a mile under the city, to the Pool of Siloam, an ancient reservoir. We walked through the tunnel, where water still flows. The water source and the tunnel are also in East Jerusalem. Here’s a photo of the water source and a replica of an ancient inscription, which described how the tunnel was dug from both ends.

Here’s my seminary colleague, Enid Lader, spiritual leader of a synagogue in Wooster, OH, coming out of the tunnel where it empties out into the Pool of Siloam.

Next we explored the “Old City” of Jerusalem. Here’s where we entered, at the Zion Gate. Also shown are a replica of an ancient Byzantine map of the city and a portion of the Cardo, the main street from the Byzantine era (roughly 350 to 650 CE). The Temple mount is notably absent from the Byzantine map!

After shopping in the underground Jewish mall and the Arab market attached to the Cardo, we went back to our hotel and prepared for Shabbat. We attended Friday evening services at Kehilat Yedid, a modern Orthodox congregation in the Beka section of Jerusalem, where there are a lot of Americans who made aliyah and are now Israeli citizens. Several families invited us to their homes for dinner after services and some lively discussions ensued. Among the things we learned is that some Orthodox Jews in Israel see little difference between Reform and Conservative Judaism in the US. Also, some of them expected us, as liberal clergy, to be less knowledgeable than Orthodox clergy and were surprised to find that was not the case. We explained that while our practices are different, we’re expected to be fully versed in traditional texts—both teachings and legal codes.

On Shabbat morning, we attended services at Shira Hadasha (New Song) a modern Orthodox congregation associated with the Hartman Institute, a graduate school for Jewish clergy and educators. Shira Hadasha is almost egalitarian. Women lead the Torah service, chant Torah and prophetic readings and receive aliyot (opportunities to recite the blessings before and after the Torah readings). Both Shira Hadasha and Kehilat Yedid were pretty fully attended in mid-August. We were impressed with the spirited singing of prayers at both congregations. (Of course, I didn’t take any photos in either place because it was Shabbat.)

After lunch, I went to a nearby park to sit outdoors and finish some reading for my Gratz College course on modern Israel. Our hotel is located in the Abu Tor section, only a few blocks from the pre-1967 border between Israel and Jordan, so there are both Arab and Jewish populations nearby. My trip to the park showed me two sides of the current political issues. In one area, I saw a large Arab group and a large Jewish group picnicking only about 10 yards from each other. Children from both groups played at the same time in the large fountain nearby and didn’t bother each other. Many people strolled through the park: Israeli Jews, Israeli Arabs and tourists – all simply going about their business. This gave me a faint glimmer of optimism about possible future relations. (I didn't take photos because I didn't want to disturb the scene.)

While I was studying, an elderly Jewish gentleman came by and I struck up a conversation with him. He came to British Palestine, from Germany in 1933, with his parents, grew up in Haifa and fought in Israel’s 1948 War of Independence. He told me that we American Jews had done the State of Israel a disservice by not moving there in large numbers. If we had, he said, the Palestinian Arabs could have been pushed out of more of the original British mandate territory and, in his opinion, Israel wouldn’t have the problems it faces today in its occupation of the West Bank. Clearly his views represent the other side of the issue, and he's not alone in this.

I returned to the hotel and told the group about my experience at our pre-dinner, mid-trip discussion. After dinner we went to the Tayelet, also called the Haas Promenade, which overlooks the Old City and the Temple mount. We joined a large crowd from an Israeli Masorti (Conservative) synagogue for the chanting of Aicha, the book of Lamentations, marking the start of Tisha B’Av. Here is Rabbi Barry Schelsinger, an American who moved to Israel some years ago, leading some of his congregants in prayers after the Aicha reading.

Tomorrow we’ll be visiting Yad Vashem, Israel’s Holocaust memorial, and then meeting with an Ethiopian Jewish family, on our way to the desert town of Arad, where we’ll stay overnight. On Monday morning we’ll climb up to the ancient fortress at Masada.

From the Galilee to Jerusalem

Shalom! We began the day with prayers. The hotel management provided us with a Torah to use, even though they are Orthodox and we're liberal and egalitarian. I'm proud of them for not letting their own religious standards prevent us from worshipping as we see fit. I don't think this would be the case everywhere in the Orthodox world. Here we are reading the Torah:





Today we toured Kibbutz Lavi, a religious Zionist communal settlement established in 1949. We stayed in their modern hotel, one of the kibbutz businesses, for the past two nights. Although the kibbutz system is shrinking, Kibbutz Lavi is thriving. One explanation is that Kibbutz Lavi has diversified its enterprises, which were once purely agricultural. Today, in addition to growing fruits and vegetables, producing milk, raising beef cattle and operating the hotel, Kibbutz Lavi is one of the leading producers of synagogue furniture. In fact, I learned today that the sanctuary seating at Temple Beth Rishon, where I'm interning, was made in Kibbutz Lavi. Here's a photo, taken in the furniture factory, of a computer-controlled machine that is used to cut and drill curved wooden chair parts acccording to specific patterns:

Next we drove to the ruins of Tzippori, also in the Galilee, where scholars believe that the Mishnah was completed, around the year 200 CE, by Rabbi Judah ha Nasi and his disciples. This ancient town, famous for its intricate mosaics, showed evidence of both Egyptian and Roman influence. The synagogue's mosaics depict the Temple service, the symbols of the months and seasons -- reflecting Judaism's unique hybrid lunar and solar calendar -- and the Biblical story of the binding of Isaac, which we will be studying in Jerusalem, near the site where the event is said to have taken place. Here's an example of the synagogue mosaics

From Tzippori, we headed south on Israel's main national highway towards Jerusalem. On our way, we passed through part of the West Bank and saw some very good looking Arab towns. I wonder how many Arab countries have homes for average people of the quality that we saw today. We also saw part of the security fence which divides most of the West Bank from Israel. While many people complain about this barrier, I understand that it has reduced the number of suicide bombing attacks on Israeli citizens.

As we approached Jerusalem, we sang Shir ha Ma-alot (Psalm 126) which begins "When God restored the habitation of Zion, we were like dreamers...Those who sow with tears will reap in joy..." When we arrived at the top of Mt. Scopus, home of Hadassah Hospital and Hebrew University, we got out of the bus and looked out at the Old City. We finished singing "Jerusalem of Gold", which we had started on the bus, and then sang the Shehecheyanu prayer, with which we bless God for keeping us alive and enabling us to reach the special moments in our lives.

Here's the view of Jerusalem's Old City, as we first saw it:

We shared a bottle of grape juice, recited the blessing and thought about tomorrow morning, when we will recite our morning prayers at the Kotel, the Western Wall, visit the ancient City of David and explore the inside of King Hezekiah's water tunnel.

From Mystic Tsefat to the Lebanese Front Line

Shalom from the Galilee! Today was an amazing day!

We began with AJR-style prayers in a circle. There are ten of us, including our guide, so we had our own minyan in one of our hotel's smaller conference rooms. After breakfast we traveled to the Gallilean city of Tsefat (Safed), the home of the renaissance masters of Kabbalah. This was an auspicious day to visit, the yahrtzeit of Rabbi Isaac Luria, possibly the greatest teacher of Kabbalah--Jewish mysticism. We saw the site where he began the tradition of welcoming the "Shabbat bride" on Friday evenings, with the service that we now call Kabbalat Shabbat. We visited the synagogue, named in his honor, that now stands adjacent to the site, pictured below.

After visiting a Kabbalistic artist and doing a bit of Judaica shopping, we drove northeast to the Golan Heights. We crossed the Jordan River, which separates the Galilee from the Golan and came within two miles of the Syrian border. At the museum in Katzrin, a town of 8,000, we saw archeological evidence of a long Jewish history in the area. For example, the stone pictured below has a carved Hebrew inscription saying that this was the entrace to the academy of Rabbi Elazar Kaftor, a sage quoted in Pirke Avot, in the Mishnah, which was published around 200 CE.

Below is another one of many ancient Jewish artifacts found in the same area. Our guide, Dr. Peter Abelow, wanted us to see this evidence because of the current debate over the status of the Golan Heights. While political concerns may determine the eventual outcome, I think that the existence of an ancient Jewish history in the Golan Heights makes this situation very different from Israel's 2005 disengagement from the Gaza Strip, which had no such history.

From Katzrin we crossed back into the Galilee and drove north into the "finger of Galilee", a narrow strip of land sandwiched between Lebanon and the Golan Heights. We passed Kiryat Shmona, a norther border town, and followed the Lebanese border to Malkiya, an agricultural kibbutz located where Israel's border with Lebanon turns from east-west to north-south.

At Malkiya, we left our bus and were guided by Eitan, the kibbutz security chief and a fruit tree expert. He took us in a rickety old van into the kibbutz orchards where he invited us to pick and eat apples and nectarines right from the trees. We were literally just across a narrow security road from Lebanon. The Israeli army "sweeps" the road at regular intervals, so that any attempts by Hezbollah to cross it will be revealed by tracks in the sand from the road's shoulders.

Eitan took us into an Israeli defenive position overlooking the border. He showed us a Russian-made Katyusha rocket, pictured below, which hit the kibbutz during Israel's recent war with Lebanon, not far from where he and another kibbutz member were picking fruit to keep it from spoiling on the trees. Fortunately, the rocket didn't explode. Eitan believes that the rocket was intended to hit some of Israel's top military officers, who were visiting the kibbutz that day.

Eitan showed us the contrast between Malkiya's thriving orchards and the brown fields on much of the Lebanese side of the border. As he pointed out, this gave new meaning to the term "green line", which has been used to indicate the border between Israel and Lebanon. Eitan told us that the only crops thriving on the Lebanese side of the border are opium poppies and hashish, which Hezbollah is making the farmers grow for export, instead of producing food. Eitan said that he used to work with the Lebanese, who had an agricultural institution in old French buildings near the border, to help them grow fruit trees. When Hezbollah "took over" in southern Lebanon, they put an end to such contacts and destroyed the buildings, whose remains are still visible.

The highlight of our day was a visit with Eitan to an Israeli Army forward outpost overlooking the Lebanese border. A mostly Jewish unit had just left and turned over the base to a mostly Druze unit. The Druze are Arabs who are neither Moslem nor Christian, and have been a loyal minority within Israel since at least the early 1970's. A young Druze officer-candidate took us to a strategic vantage point and spoke with us at length about the border situation. He spoke as loyally and as proudly about his country, Israel, as any Jewish soldier could have. He said that he was there, on the border, to defend his family and all Israeli families and all of us visitors.

(For security reasons, Eitan asked us not to post photos of the soldiers or the base.)

Eitan and the officer-candidate told us that the Hezbollah forces continue trying to dig tunnels under the border road, through which to enter Israel. They said that the UN peacekeepers are doing nothing about this, but don't like it when Israel blows up the tunnels from the Israeli end. They showed us passenger cars in and near the opium fields, which suggest, along with other signs, that Hezbollah is planning a new attack. Knowing that we're rabbinical and cantorial students, they asked us to go back and tell our congregations what is happening on the border.

We were all deeply moved by this experience. We thanked the soldiers for their efforts and the risk that they're taking and gave Eitan cash to buy pizza in town and bring it back for them. We recited the Hebrew prayer for the Israeli Defense Forces just before leaving the base.

We ended our day with dinner in the town of Ilyona, near the ancient city of Tiberias, on the Sea of Galilee. We are in a restaurant which once served as the original secret headquarters, in the 1930's, of Ha Shomer, the defensive forces which became the Haganah, the Israeli army. We saw photos of David Ben Gurion and some of the other famous people whom he used to meet in the security bunker underneath this larger former farm house. Here's how it looks today:



Tomorrow morning, we'll tour Lavi, the religious Zionist kibbutz where we've been staying, and then go to Tzippori, where the Mishnah was completed. From Tzippori, we'll head to Jerusalem. Assuming no traffic problems, we should be able to make our first visit to the Western Wall.

A Very Moving Northern Coastal Trip

Shalom from the Galilee.

This morning we drove north from Tel Aviv, along the coastal highway, to the ancient port of Caesarea, a location steeped in history from many periods. This was the capital built by King Herod the Great, a vicious dictator, who took the Judean throne in 34 BCE, under Roman rule. We toured ruins dating from Roman, Byzantine and Crusader times and saw computer reconstructions of what the city looked like in each period. Here's part of the harbor today:

King Herod was the great builder of the Land of Israel in early Roman times. At Caesarea, in addition to building a port where there was no natural harbor, he built a magnificent palace, a huge "hippodrome", where horse races were held and a theater which once held up to 8,000 people. Today it holds about 4,000 people and is used for concerts. Here are the palace and pool ruins and the hippodrome "grandstand".

Our guide, Dr. Peter Abelow, told us about two tragic events that occurred in Caesarea during Roman times. The revolt, which led to the destruction of our second Temple, in 70 CE, began in Caesarea in 66 CE, when a deadly fight broke out between secular and religious Jews in front of the synagogue. The secular Jews called in Roman help, which infuriated the religious Jews, who came to be known as the Zealots. The other event was the execution, in 135 CE, of Rabbi Akiva, who had supported the second Jewish rebellion, of 132 CE, led by Simon Bar Kochba. By that time, the hippodrome had come to be used for gladiator fights and other bloody events, so Dr. Abelow believes that Rabbi Akiva's very gruesome torture and execution took place in public, in the hippodrome. We're told that he died reciting the Shema (Deuteronomy 6:4): "Hear O Israel, Adonai is our God, Adonai is One," Judaism's basic declaration of faith.

As we left Caesarea, we saw King Herod's acqueduct which brought fresh water to the port city from inland springs.

We continued north to a Druze village, where we learned about this ethnic minority within Israel. The Druze are Arabs, who are neither Muslim nor Christian. Their origins are in Egypt, where they broke away from Islam in the 11th century CE. They enjoy full citizenship in Israel and have since the earliest days of the state. They say that they have no national aspirations. Like the Jews in Israel, the Druze are divided into secular and religious groups. Our lecturer, shown below, a secular Druze woman, is studying political science at the University of Haifa.

Our next stop was the Israel Maritime Museum, in Haifa, where we toured the last remaining ship that was used for clandestine immigration of post-World War II refugees from 1946 to 48, while the British restrictions preventing their entry into the Land of Israel were still in effect. This ship was a converted World War II landing craft. On this ship, over 450 refugees were crammed into tight spaces for the trip from southern Europe to what was then British Palestine.

The highlight of our day was meeting Aryeh Malkin, an 87 year old "Bronx boy" who served in the US Army in Europe during World War II and then joined the crew of one of the clandestine immigration ships. Aryeh's ship, a Canadian "corvette" (a frigate or small destroyer) had been purchased by the Haganah and refurbished in Staten Island, before setting sail for Italy under a Panamanian flag. In Italy, this small 1,000 ton ship took on 1,250 refugees overnight and cut its mooring lines just in time to escape from the local police. The ship was intercepted by the British navy and its passengers and Haganah crew (who had blended in with the refugees) were interned at a camp in Atlit, in the land of Israel. The crew were smuggled out of the camp, one or two at a time, in the truck that delivered the bread provided daily by the Jewish Agency.

Aryeh joined with other secular Zionists, whom he had known in New York, to help found Kibbutz Ein Dor in the Galilee, where he spoke to us for an hour about his life. In Israel he met and married an Australian Jewish woman and they have 3 children and 12 grandchildren. Aryeh became an expert on cotton growing, ginning and grading, eventually serving as president of the Israel Association of Cotton Growers. He retired after 50 years of doing that work for the kibbutz and is now working on a book about his experiences. This Israeli hero made himself vulnerable to Arab attack, during the final years of British rule, by digging postholes in the middle of the night, in preparation for the building of a new kibbutz. He also fought in Israel's 1948 War of Independence and other conflicts. He impressed us with his modesty, saying that he was "just an ordinary guy" who made some right decisions. We need more "ordinary guys" like him. Here's Aryeh (on the right) with our guide, Dr. Abelow:

Our day ended at Kibbutz Lavi, a religious Zionist communal farm which is also in the hotel business, and where we'll spend the next two nights. After dinner with Jews of all denominations in the hotel dining hall, Dr. Abelow showed us a very moving documentary, produced by his son, Avi Abelow, about the human effects of Israel's disengagement from Gaza.

Shaolm From Tel Aviv

Wow! Getting here was a lot harder than I expected. Our 11 pm Saturday flight was delayed until after 4 pm on Sunday. My seminary colleague, Enid Lader, and I spent Saturday night and Sunday morning in Continental Airlines' President's Club at Newark Airport, along with dozens of other tired, cranky passengers. We were the lucky ones -- at least we were in the club. Here I am finally in the arrivals hall at Ben Gurion airport, next to a bust of the late prime minister.

Instead of meeting our group for dinner on Sunday, we caught up with them at this morning's second stop, one of Israel's secret bullet factories, which operated from 1946 to 1948 underneath a training kibbutz in Rehovot. The kibbutz was close to a British colonial base and even did the British soldiers' laundry. The bullet making operation was hiding literally under their noses.

The Haganah, Israel's defense force, knew that they would surely be attacked by the Arabs when statehood was declared and would need bullets, but they couldn't import them or make them openly while the British were in charge. They secretly imported the equipment and used the kibbutz laundry and bakery to hide the operation. Here's what it looked like.

After lunch at the Weiztman Institute, a world-famous science research institution and graduate school, we did a little volunteer work at the Jaffa Institute, a service organization that feeds many of South Tel Aviv and Jaffa's poor people -- Jews and Arabs alike. They provide hot after-school lunches to children from poor families and deliver boxes of basic foods to poor families. Here are members of our group loading donated food into boxes for distribution.

We were told that 70% of Jaffa's and South Tel Aviv's families are below the poverty line. Only 60% overall of high school students in these areas graduate, but 83% of those who receive Jaffa Institute's hot lunches graduate. The hot lunch program has been in place for 25 years. Some of its "graduates" have made their way successfully in the world and are now donors themselves. Boxes of donated food are delivered by the Dan Bus Co. and by many corporate executives.

All of us donated cash to the Jaffa Institute during our visit. I donated the cash I was given by people who asked me to be their shaliach "messenger", as well as some money of my own. Next we drove through Jaffa and South Tel Aviv into downtown Tel Aviv, to visit Rabin Plaza, where there is a memorial to the assassinated prime minister. We said Kaddish and Lisa B. Segal, a cantor in our group, chanted Ail Moley Rachamim -- God, Full of Mercies -- the memorial prayer. Here we are at the site.

Later, at our hotel, we were visited by our seminary Hebrew teacher, Ms. Varda Hubara, who has an apartment not far away. Here's a picture of her with my colleague Irwin Huberman.

I'm about to sign off, as I had less than 4 hours of sleep last night and about the same Saturday night. Tomorrow I'll post pictures from our visits to Haifa, Caesarea and Kibbutz Lavi.

Thoughts Before Boarding the Flight to Israel

I’m in the Continental Airlines “President’s Club” at Newark Airport, composing one more blog post before boarding my flight to Israel. Although some of my seminary colleagues are flying on El-Al, I’m flying on Continental because I had accumulated a lot of mileage with them during my many years of business travel. What better use for it than finally making my long-overdue first trip to the Biblical land of our ancestors. My colleague, Enid Lader, who organized this trip is also flying on Continental. She commutes to our seminary, in Riverdale, NY from the western suburbs of Cleveland. Now completing her third year of rabbinical school, Enid has accumulated a lot of mileage and decided to use it for this trip.

The rabbi with whom I’m interning, Rabbi Ken Emert, says that on El-Al flights, the arrival celebration begins in the air, with Israeli singing and dancing. I’m wondering whether the same will be true on Continental. I do intend to pray our morning prayers on the flight and have brought my talit and tefilin in my briefcase. I’m sure that there will be a shacharit minyan on the flight. Perhaps there will be several minyanim for different denominations.

Enid and I were going to meet for dinner here at the airport, but she called me to say that her flight was late leaving Cleveland, so I had a very quick dinner and came here to the President’s Club to complete the 15 blog posts that were required for my Gratz College course on modern Israel.

I hope that you’ve found at least some of my posts thought provoking. I’m sure that they’ll become more interesting when we arrive in Israel and start posting photos and comments about the unique places were going to see and people we’re going to meet. One of the people I’m especially looking forward to meeting is my Gratz College professor, Rabbi Shalom Berger, who is also on the faculty of Bar Ilan University. This blog was his idea and I’m grateful for his inspiration.

Israeli Technology to Enhance Video Gaming

Many of us are aware of Israel’s great contributions to computer and communications technology. Intel, Motorola and other leading high-tech firms have had a major presence in Israel for many years. Many of the features of the cellular phones and other hand-held communications devices that so many of us use were developed in Israel. For many years, I bought only Motorola cellular phone and only computers with Intel microprocessors as a matter of loyalty.

I just read, in the Wall Street Journal, that Israel is developing new technology in the field of video games. An Israeli company called 3DV Systems is developing video cameras that will measure precisely the movement of players as they stand in front of their television sets. The story says that this technology will be combined with new, more powerful games systems to “allow users to control the on-screen action of athletes, super-heroes and soldiers” with their own body movements, eliminating the need for a game controller device. The article says that eventually players may be able to put realistic images of their own faces on the characters in the video games.

As a parent, I’ve never been a big fan of video games, although our son has owned several different types. When he was in elementary and middle school, my wife and I always insisted that his homework be finished and his trombone or piano practiced before the video game was turned on. Nevertheless, our son’s generation, which grew up with video games continues to play them as adults. Video games have become a huge part of the entertainment industry, rivaling DVD movies in sales volume. Sony and Microsoft are selling millions upon millions of game consoles which retail for more than $300. Given these facts, I’m glad to see Israel participating in the business.

New West Bank Settlement on Old Israeli Airbase

As I wait to board my flight to Israel, I’m reading an article from yesterday’s Jewish Week about the resettlement of some of the families who were forcibly evicted from the Gaza Strip, as a result of the “disengagement” which began under Israel’s former Prime Minister, Ariel Sharon. These settlers are making their new homes at Maskiyot, a former Israeli air-force base, in the West Bank, at which the Defense Ministry just approved the building of 20 permanent houses.

This move has been criticized as the establishment of a new settlement in the West Bank, the first in ten years. According to the Jewish Week story, it has been protested by UN Secretary General Ban Ki-Moon and has caused “unease” among members of the international “Quartet of Middle East peace negotiators”.

The settlement raises questions related to the religious-secular divide in Israel, as many of the settlers evicted from the Gaza Strip were “Orthodox nationalists” who believe they are commanded by the Bible not to give up any land under the State of Israel’s control. According to the Jewish Week, most of the existing Israeli settlers in the Jordan Valley are secular Jews, who moved there to bolster the country’s eastern border with Jordan, as proposed by Yigal Allon in 1967.

Will the new settlers be allowed to remain if an agreement is someday reached with the Palestinians? Will the land where they are about to begin rebuilding their lives be traded away in return for promises of peace and security? While I think that such an agreement will be a long time in coming, I can understand the concern of families who have been uprooted once already by a political strategy.

Trayfe Dining in the Jewish State

Apparently, dining in Israel isn’t as kosher as it used to be. My seminary colleague Irwin Huberman reports that there is a restaurant, near his hotel in Jerusalem, which serves pork, shrimp and calamari (squid) – “a real trayfe banquet”. While a non-kosher restaurant in Jerusalem may be a news event, consumption of pork in Israel apparently is not.

In the 1960’s my uncle Isidore, a Labor Zionist, visited Israel, stayed in a kibbutz and ate in the communal dining hall. He was shocked when the meal served on the first evening of his visit was roast pork.

In 1979, my wife, Marilyn, bought a pigskin trench coat at Saks Fifth Avenue in Troy, MI. It was made in Israel. The brand name was Beged Or – “garment of light”. Cynic that I am, I asked Marilyn whether she supposed that the pigskins were imported into Israel and crafted into a coat there or whether the pigs were raised and slaughtered in Israel. In the latter case, I wondered, what became of the rest of the pig? Did it end up at kibbutzim like the one that Isidore visited?

In the 1990’s, I posed this question to Cantor Rene Coleson, z”l, at North Shore Synagogue in Syosset, NY. She had visited Israel frequently and told me that she indeed had seen pork served in a number of places. She said it was most often referred to on menus as basar lavan – “white meat”.

This is just one aspect of the discussion about what it means to be a “Jewish State”. Does it mean simply “A State for the Jews”, as some translate Theodore Herzl’s ground-breaking 1896 manifesto, or should it be something more? Other areas of life affected by the answer to this question include marriage and divorce regulations, Shabbat and holiday observance and exemption of yeshiva students from military service. It is difficult to determine “how Jewish” Israel ought to be.

New Discovery in the Ancient "City of David"

My cousin Avraham, who lives in Jerusalem with his wife Malka, near their married daughters and grandchildren, sent me a story from the Jerusalem Post about a new discovery at the “City of David” archeological site, just outside the walls of the Old City of Jerusalem. Researchers working under Prof. Eilat Mazar found a completely intact seal impression belonging to Gedaliah son of Pashur, one of the ministers of King Zedekiah (597-586 BCE). It was found near another impression, discovered 3-years ago, of the seal of Yukhual son of Shelemiah, also one of Zedekiah’s ministers. Both ministers are mentioned in the book of Jeremiah as having demanded that prophet’s death for preaching surrender to the Babylonian army, which was then besieging the city (Jeremiah 38:1-4).

My seminary colleagues and I will be touring this archeological site as part of our educational adventure in Israel. It includes what may be the Biblical palace of King David, which was discovered by Prof. Mazar and her associates several years ago. Also in the area, according to the Jerusalem Post, are parts of a wall from the days of Nehemiah, Biblical governor of Judea under Persian rule.

These discoveries have strong political undertones as they are apparently located in a part of East Jerusalem, which was captured by Israel in the 1967 Six Day War. The research, which is being done under the “academic auspices” of the Hebrew University of Jerusalem, is sponsored by the Shalem Center, a right-leaning Jerusalem research institute and the City of David Foundation, described by the Jerusalem Post as “right wing”. Reading between the lines, it appears that the sponsors are keen on documenting a Biblical history for the area, in support of the desire of many religious Israelis to retain control of the territory and not cede it to a Palestinian state in some future peace agreement.

Ethical Standards for Public Officials

After months of rumors, inuendo and speculation, Ehud Olmert has announced that he will not seek to continue as Israel's Prime Minister after his party, Kadima, elects a new leader this fall. There are many ramifications from this that are beyond the scope of my rabbinic mission:

1. Should the next leader of the Kadima become prime minister automatically or should new elections be held?

2. If new elections are held, will the Israeli vote swing back to the right, out of frustration with the "peace process", which Olmert and his predecessor, Ariel Sharon, have supported?

3. Will Olmert attempt to forge a peace deal with the Palestinians as a "lame duck", as has been suggested in some US newspapers this week?

What I would like to focus on is the Jewish perspective on the ethical standards which are applied to governmental leaders, in Israel, the US and anywhere else. It isn't for me to say whether Ehud Olmert is innocent or guilty. He'll have to answer to the Israeli courts and ultimately to "the Judge of all the earth" (Genesis 18:25) about that. But how should we view the conduct of public officials -- more generously or more critically than that of other people?

Some of us have a tendency to excuse failings on the part of public officials that we would judge much more harshly in our friends or relatives. We "cut them a break" because of the pressure that they're under and the responsibility that they bear. Traditional Judaism teaches us a different way of looking at this.

There are rabbinic teachings that if Moses had been an ordinary man, the sin of striking the rock to get water for the Israelites, instead of speaking to it as God ordered, would not have been bad enough to keep him from entering the Promised Land (Numbers 19:12). Because Moses had been elevated by God to a higher position he was held to a higher standard of behavior.

There is a teaching from in Midrash Rabbah, the Roman-era Torah commentary, that bears on this issue. Rabbi Nehemiah says that as soon as one accepts a role of leadership, that person can no longer say the he (or she) lives for himself (or herself) alone. Rather, that person has taken upon himself (or herself) the "whole burden of the community" (Exodus Rabbah 27:9).

One of the ways that I interpret this teaching is that people in roles of public trust must regulate their private conduct by higher standards than those which apply to the rest of society, lest their private conduct compromise their effectiveness as a leader and discredit the office that they hold. Recent incidents involving governors of New York, New Jersey and Connecticut, a US congressman from Staten Island and several US senators are examples which come to mind.

I hope that Ehud Olmert is innocent. It will be better for his office and for Israel if that is so.

More Thoughts on My First Trip to Israel

Last week I posted two messages about Israel’s recent prisoner exchange with Lebanon and the difference in values between Israel and Hezbollah that it demonstrated. In this post, I would like to speak about Israel from a more personal perspective.

Tomorrow night, I’ll be leaving on my first trip to Israel with some of my seminary colleagues. We've added to our itinerary a visit to Israeli troops on the Lebanese border. This could be very moving because of the exchange and the emotions it evoked.

I’m long overdue for this trip, and I don’t have a good excuse for not having gone to Israel years ago. It wasn’t the expense – my family and I have taken a number of more costly vacations. It wasn’t the length of the flight – we’ve flown to Greece, which is almost as far, and to Japan, which is much further. I have to admit that security concerns were a deterrent for me, as apparently they were for others. American Jewish travel to Israel has declined significantly since the second intifada began in 2000. Fortunately for Israel, an increase in visits by US evangelical Christians has offset much of the Jewish tourism shortfall in recent years.

Since I imagine that others who haven’t been to Israel lately were also put off by security concerns, I would like to share two stories from my seminary colleague, Irwin Huberman, spiritual leader of the Conservative synagogue in Glen Cove, NY, who has been in Israel for a number of weeks and will be joining our tour. I’ve shared some of Irwin’s thoughts previously.

Irwin was riding recently with one of Israel’s great philosophers, a Tel Aviv taxi driver named Amnon, who lived in the US for 6 years before deciding to move back to Israel. He told Irwin that he came back to Israel because he wanted to return to a country where life is safer. Irwin, with eyebrows raised, asked him to explain. Amnon said: “Look at these streets…No one is mugged. No one is stabbed. Children can walk home on their own. If they get lost, a stranger will take them by the hand to their home…I feel safer here, even with one war every ten years, and an occasional terrorist attack.” Amnon then quoted the state motto of New Hampshire: “Live free or die.”

Some weeks ago, Irwin led a group from his New York congregation to Tzefat, or Safed, the northern Israeli city of 37,000 which is famous as the home of renaissance and modern mystics, teachers of Kabbalah. It’s where the prayer Lecha Dodi, with which we welcome the "Shabbat bride", originated. Irwin’s group asked a volunteer policeman how many crimes there were in Tzefat last year. He told them that there was one, but they really weren’t sure. Apparently someone borrowed someone else’s talit and they’re still discussing whether it was a theft or a case of a mistaken talit bag.

I wouldn’t want to minimize the threats to Israel from Iran, from terrorist organizations such as Hezbollah and Hamas or from the surrounding Arab nations. I’m not ignoring the Kassam rockets which fall daily on Sderot and are starting to reach Ashkelon and other coastal cities. Most Israelis are sensitive to these threats to their very survival. We’re told that most Israelis have lost a member of their extended family to terror or war. We’re told that many Israelis walk looking over their shoulders, as I have in certain parts of Manhattan and in downtown Detroit, where I worked as a teenager.

Yet in spite of the stress of wars and attacks which has shaped their lives, there is something that keeps pulling Israelis back to Israel. My seminary Hebrew teacher, a native Israeli, a sabra, has lived and worked in the US for over 30 years. She keeps an apartment in Tel Aviv and goes there every chance she gets. Something pulls many visitors back as well. I have a cousin in Ottawa who has traveled to Israel over 20 times. I know American-born Jews in Westchester County, NY, who return to Israel every year.

I think part of the draw is that modern Israel is like no other Jewish community in the world: self-governing, engaged with the world and pluralistic, yet unmistakably Jewish, regardless of what percentages of its people are or aren’t religiously observant. Irwin says that on Friday afternoons and evenings, Israelis – religious and secular – greet total strangers on the streets with the words “Shabbat Shalom”.

I’ve come to believe that it’s not enough to support Israel in speaking with our public officials and our non-Jewish neighbors. It’s not enough to support Israel financially, though I’m sure that some of you who are reading this have given very generously. I think it’s critical to give Israel our physical support by going and briefly joining the diverse multi-cultural, multi-denominational mix of Jews there.

I intend to keep you updated on what my colleagues and I see and do in Israel by posting photos and comments here. I hope that looking at the photos and comments will help inspire those of you who haven’t visited Israel to make the trip and those who haven’t visited in a while to go back. Shabbat Shalom!