Connecting with Israel

For approximately three decades, since the Yom Kippur war in 1973, bonding with Israel has been very important. Since that war, American Jews have visited Israel in record numbers; more and more American Jews have emigrated, or made Aliyah, to Israel. In addition, there has been a flourishing of programs for teenagers and young adults, creating a generation of adults deeply connected to Israel.

My connections with Israel are from just such experiences: I traveled to Israel in the summer before my senior year in high school. In this eight week program, I traveled the entire country and learned everything from ancient history, to the social culture, to modern day politics. How amazing, at 17, to walk on roads that were thousands-and thousands-years old! How defining to be joined by peers who were experiencing a heightened sense of their Jewish identity, and a true sense of the spiritual, and physical, importance of this homeland.

Ever since then, my connection to Israel has been more intense; more real. There is nothing like traveling to the location to learn about it-this is true for every experience; we can't really experience the Grand Canyon through books; we have to see it! The same seems to be true of Israel, especially for teenagers.

However, for the past two summers, this has changed. Two years ago, the Reform Movement cancelled it's summer programs; concerned for the safety of our teenagers. Last summer, a seriously revamped program was offered. For the ten participants, it was truly a wonderful experience. One attendee was our very own Kelly Levy, daughter of our immediate past president, Harry Levy, and current youth group advisor, Mary Levy. Kelly's life was changed from her experience: she now watches the news more avidly, and feels a deeper spiritual bond with a land than she ever expected.

For the first time in over 20 years, our teenagers are staying in the United States in the summers, rather than making the annual coming of age, Jewish discovery summer tour that was so important. Our teenagers are the first in a generation to go to college without what we call “an Israel experience”.

For them, Israel is remote-it is violent-and the political situation is truly and totally confusing. This is no different with us; our trips to Israel are much less frequent, fear and frustration are much more prevalent that excitement and pride.

I am not standing here preaching a visit to Israel. Rather, I am standing here to attempt to rekindle our deepest connections with this special land, even as we experience pain and possibly disagreement Israel's situation; come to terms with physical distance and political confusion.

A poem by Denise Levertov, a favorite poet of mine, reminds us of our spiritual, intangible, connection to Israel, and in turn our Jewish identity. It's called The Thread:

Something is very gently,
invisibly, silently,
pulling at me-a thread
or net of threads
finer than cobweb and as
elastic. I haven't tried
the strength of it. No barbed hook
pierced and tore me. Was it
not long ago this thread
began to draw me? Or
way back? Was I
born with its knot about my
neck, a bridle? Not fear
but a stirring
of wonder makes me
catch my breath when I feel
the tug of it when I thought
it had loosened itself and gone.

Our connection to Israel, according to Denise Levertov is far more than physical. A recent example of this intangible connection is with Ilan Ramon. So many of us kvelled when he went up in the shuttle! We were so awed by the Israeli flag waving proudly next to the American flag.

In fact, my mother lives fairly close the space center in Florida. When the shuttle launched, she called me, so excited. She's seen every shuttle take off since she's lived in Florida-and yet this is the one she called me about. This is the one she was most emotionally connected to do; the launch she bonded with.

Rabbi Yehiezkel Eckstein, teaches about Israel: “There is something ineffable about our feelings toward Israel-they can never be fully captured or articulated. For more than we grasp Israel, it grips us. Only the person who experiences this love and attachment can understand it. You see, Eretz Yisrael or Israel is not just the land God promised to Abraham and his descendants. It is not only the "holy land" at the very center and core of all Jewish beliefs and practices-it is so much more.”

Every year when we say: “Next Year in Jerusalem!”, at the close of our Seder we utter a phrase that reminds us of Israels' grip on us. For many, this is a symbolic sentence: a reaffirmation of the freedom that is central to the themes of the festival. But for us, this year, this phrase can be more than symbolic. It can remind us of that intangible spiritual connection-that is almost unexplainable-that reconnects to our indelible tie to Israel. It is the thread, pulling ever so gently, reminding us that Israel is part of our spiritual identity.

More than ever, our connection-spiritually-is of paramount importance.

There are very real reasons for the thread that tugs to feel more subtle; to feel more tenuous. Connecting with a homeland where the media portrays images of blood and violence; of hatred and inability to dialogue; of a sense of distance that is truly new, makes the connection much more difficult.

But let us remember this: Israel, in Hebrew means, One who struggles with God. It is important to remember that through our struggles with Israel, we can continue to connect spiritually, intangibly, with our homeland, and bring it ever closer to our hearts.

Debbie Perlman, of blessed memory, was a modern day Psalmist. This Psalm was originally written in honor of Israel Independence Day. However, it reminds us of our dreams and hopes for Israel, and reconnects us with our original hopes:

This Land was conceived of longing,
Again to make manifest Your promise;
This Land was birthed in terror and joy.
Her own midwife, Your concern her only solace.
Celebrate our beginning, Holy One,
Gift us with lasting peace;
Turn our prayers to reality,
Still the endless battle.
Then will we rejoice in our Land,
Nourishing our garden not with tears but living water;
Then shall the young dance unmolested,
Then safety and wholeness shall reign.

Our prayers for peace in Israel are uttered every Shabbat; our hearts remain in our throats as we learn of yet another suicide bomber; our pride surges when we can celebrate with an Israeli; our confusion reigns over how to establish peace. Our connections must be nurtured; our prayers must be heartfelt, and our desire to remain identified with Israel must remain strong.

May the thread that tugs, and tradition that connects, remain with us so that our bond with Israel may remain unbreakable and true. Amen.

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