I hate packing, especially for a long time away. All of
those stupid little decisions: how much stuff should I bring? What if it gets
cold? Do I pack flat or roll everything? Will they be tough at the counter and
weigh my bag? What if my bag is too heavy? I'll need to do laundry at some
point; but where? Laundromat or bundle service? And then all the electronics
and the chargers... it's insane!
But as much as I detest packing, there's something
special about packing for Israel. I love returning to Israel, a place that
feels more like a second home than it does an overseas destination. This must
be my 12th trip! But I am so excited to be bringing 9 of our 10th graders for
their first time.
I look at Israel through their eyes. There's that first
"Really? Everybody's Jewish?" moment, when the enormity of being in a
Jewish state first sets in. Then there's the "Look at all of those cute
Israeli soldiers" moment, which needs no clarification, other than
"Be careful ladies!" (The boys tend not to be ready to flirt with the
Israeli girls in their fatigues...).
There's more. There's the look in their eyes after
exiting the Yad VaShem Children's Memorial, a look the defies any easy verbal
description. It's a look that catches my breath because no matter if they've
been to the Memorial in Washington - and many have - the experience is
overwhelming. It is, in a sense, the beginning of the end of innocence for
these 15-16-year-old children who have been so lovingly cushioned from the
crushing pain of the world. I've been with many of these children from the
beginning: held them at their baby namings and brises. I am proud to be their
rabbi and at such moments feel the existential weight of responsibility that
comes with helping them transition towards adulthood as Jews.
There's the look when they see the Western Wall for the
first time. We've seen a thousand pictures, built it out of sugar cubes and
cardboard boxes, written notes to put between the simulated stones. But when
it's right there, well, it makes an impression. "So this is the
Wall?" Yes, this is it. And yes, despite the hype, it is a special place
to just stand and feel the stones and listen to the prayers.
It's vitally important to me that our kids see Israel
through my eyes, too. I want them to see the miraculous nature of a nation
established in 1948, as poor as many other post-WWII Third World nations, that
is now a tremendous international presence.
I want them to see that the original Israeli Declaration
of Independence speaks of the earnest desire to create and nurture a democratic
Jewish State. As it says, in part:
THE STATE OF ISRAEL will be open for Jewish immigration
and for the Ingathering of the Exiles; it will foster the development of the
country for the benefit of all its inhabitants; it will be based on freedom,
justice and peace as envisaged by the prophets of Israel; it will ensure
complete equality of social and political rights to all its inhabitants
irrespective of religion, race or sex; it will guarantee freedom of religion,
conscience, language, education and culture; it will safeguard the Holy Places of
all religions; and it will be faithful to the principles of the Charter of the
United Nations.
I also want them to see the part of Israel that is
striving to fulfill these ideals, just as Americans struggle to enable all
American citizens to obtain the freedom that is theirs by law but not always in
practice. It does our kids no good to get a sanitized Israel, devoid of
internal conflict or challenges. Israel is real, they say. Our kids need to see
that.
In addition to looking at Israel through the eyes of my
students and hoping they will see Israel through mine, I'll be doing my own
looking around, for you and for me. I'll be looking for hopeful signs of
creative Israeli-Palestinian connections. I'll be hoping to see a greater
openness to Reform Judaism and Reform institutions. I'll be looking for the
possibility of thoughtful engagement between Jews of different opinions but who
are all believers in this crazy place called Israel.
Ok. I gotta go pack. Ugh. Roll or pack flat?
Shabbat Shalom
rebhayim
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