Reflections for Israel's 60th Birthday

It is with great joy and appreciation that I wish all of us a Yom Ha-Atzma’ut Sameyach – a happy Israeli Independence Day as the State of Israel turns sixty today. Last Sunday a group of congregants gathered in my office to discuss what it means to us living outside of Philadelphia that Israel exists as a free and independent country. We reflected that many of us in this congregation have no consciousness of a time in our own lives when a State of Israel did not exist. We also reflected that we live in privileged and rarefied circumstances – in a country where Jews live free and prosperous and in a part of the country where Jewish identity and culture are widespread and celebrated.

Taken together, these two unprecedented facts lead to an unprecedented conclusion: we live in a community and circumstances where it is possible for us to take Israel for granted. Since Israel has been with us for as long as many of us remember and we are comfortable and privileged where we are, we could come to forget just how profoundly fortunate we are for Israel’s existence, and also how a measure of the freedom and security we enjoy is owed to that fact. We must never lose sight of the privileged place we hold in Jewish history and also of the blessings of the State of Israel: a country where we can fully live out Jewish civilization, where we can be one with our history and our people, a place that is dedicated to Jewish survival and freedom. While some of us may disagree with specific policies or positions that the government has taken, we must also take the opportunity on this Yom ha-Atzma’ut to voice our profound gratitude for Israel’s existence and strength and dedicate ourselves to working to promote its welfare and the ideals on which it was founded.

Baruch Atah Adonai Eloheinu Melech ha-olam she-hechiyanu, vekimanu, vehigiyanu laz’man ha-zeh: Blessed are you, Eternal One our God, the Sovereign of all the worlds, who has given our people life, sustained us and kept us strong, and enabled to reach this joyous anniversary.

Back Home

After a long wait to get through security at Ben Gurion we finally got on the plane and settled in for the long flight home. We were met at Newark by the bus bringing us back to Or Hadash, tired but overflowing with the experiences and emotions we were carrying back with us.

When we first prepared to go to Israel, we had gathered to imagine our goals, expectations, and hopes for the trip. In the airport before we boarded the plane for Newark I shared once more the prayer for the journey I had crafted from our shared sentiments.

It was incredible how fully we had realized these hopes: to connect with the Land of Israel and with each other; to have genuine and heartfelt encounters with Israelis; to deepen our understanding of Israel past and present; and to emerge with renewed hope for peace. As I recited each line of the prayer made of our hopes for our first congregational trip (God willing, of many!) to Israel, it was clear that each wish had been accomplished, and more.

That is, except for the very last section, which spoke of hopes and dreams yet to come: "And may we return in peace to our homes and to Or Hadash to share these experiences and insights and help people connect through us, and bring Israel to a more central place within the life of our congregation." This part of our prayer, of course, is yet to be fulfilled and it requires all of us in the community to help bring it to fruition - which I have no doubt we will do just as surely as we accomplished all our other hopes for this incredible trip.

I hope you have enjoyed reading the blog and being a part of our congregational trip as well. Please stay tuned to this site for information coming soon on how you can view photos from our trip, and also don't forget to join us this Friday night, February 22 to hear my own reflections on our trip, and then on March 14 to hear from those congregants who were with us on the trip. May this be the first of many congregational trips and the beginning of a deepening of our connections with Israel as individuals and as a community. May we grow in our appreciation and love of Israel and all it can be - for us, for the Jewish people, and for all the world.

Amen.

Shabbat in Tel Aviv

Shabbat in Tel Aviv... what to say? The service at Beit Tefillah Yisraeli was fabulous, with enormous joy and spirit. Shabbat dinner back at the hotel was filled with laughter and singing. Torah study this morning was a meaningful reflection on sacred space and how to carry the experience of Israel with us as we prepare to return to Philadelphia.

Then it was free time as we split up to enjoy some of the many pleasures Tel Aviv has to offer. I led a group on a walk down the beach to the city of Old Yaffo, the picturesque settlement dating back to Biblical times. Later I took advantage of the hotel's pool and hot tub which overlooked the Mediterranean, a religious experience of its own.

Now we're sitting at Maganda, a Yemeni restaurant for our farewell dinner before heading to Ben Gurion airport and our flight back to Newark. It's hard to believe how quickly these ten days have flown by and how much we've packed in, as well as how much we have all grown from the experience. It's hard to believe we'll be on an airplane soon, so full of the sights, sounds, and feeling of Israel and its people. As we piled back on to the bus we were already talking about planning our next trip, and the next and the next...

The last update will be posted from America.

Tel Aviv

If we are moving forward in history as we travel around the country, there is no better place to finish our visit than Tel Aviv. It is the cultural capital of Israel, a bustling, cosmopolitan city on the Mediterranean, relentlessly forward looking and a formidable counterpart to the rich historical legacy of Jerusalem. Founded from nothing in 1909 by olim from Russia, Poland, and Germany it has grown in less than 100 years into a world-class city with a metropolitan area of more than 1.2 million, a center of the arts, technology, and finance.

First we went to visit the site where Prime Minister Yitzchak Rabin was assassinated in 1995 by yeshivah student Yigal Amir. It was a shattering moment for Israel and the country is stilll living very much in its wake - a loss of innocence for a country that was supposed to be different from any other country before it, a loss of a hero who had guided the young State through its most difficult battles and challenges, a loss of hope after this soldier of Israel had become a warrior for peace. We paid our respects at the memorial and recited Kaddish for Rabin and for all that might have been.

From Kikar Rabin (Rabin Square) we went to the Palmach Museum, the museum dedicated to the Jewish strike force that was initially created with British support to defend the yishuv (pre-State settlement) against the Nazis in North Africa, and then was subsequently driven underground as a resistance movement against the British. This was the force that helped the movement toward independence between 1945 and 1948 and then, as part of the Israeli Defense Forces, helped defend the brand new state at great cost against the Arabs who had rejected the 1947 U.N. partition plan and attacked. The museum was a moving tribute to all those whose sacrifices served as the 'silver platter' on which the Jewish State was given.

In the afternoon we headed to Nachalat Binyamin, a fabulous open-air crafts and spice market. Tonight we head to Beit Tefillah Yisraeli, one of the progressive synagogues of the type Rabbi Amy Klein spoke about with us last week, where young Israelis are trying to create an alternative for themselves other than secularism or orthodoxy. As I headed back to the hotel to get ready for Shabbat, I detoured to trail my fingertips in the Mediterranean. As I edged closer to the water, a giant wave suddenly washed up and soaked me nearly to my knees. I guess the moral is that you can't just sample Israel a little: it will find a way to grab hold of you and immerse you whether you intend it to or not.

Shabbat Shalom from Tel Aviv.

Yom Ahavah Same'ach

Just a few years ago Valentine's Day basically didn't exist in Israel. Now it's everywhere: pink hearts, balloons, flowers - even a sign from the municipality of Tel Aviv urging people to celebrate. Truly a brave new world. And so to all, wishing you a Yom Ahavah Same'ach.

Clocks

We just checked into the third and final hotel of our stay - the Renaissance in Tel Aviv, a beautiful hotel right on the beach. And like both of the other hotels we've stayed in there are no clocks in the room. Can somebody tell me why the hotels in Israel don't have clocks in the room???

Down the Coast to Tel Aviv

Continuing our trip through Jewish history, we headed west toward the Mediterranean coast to learn about the experiences of Jews who came to Palestine from the late-19th to mid-20th century to escape persecution and help build up the Land of Israel.

First we went to the city of Haifa, a model of co-existence where Jews, Muslims, Christians, and Baha'i live side by side in peace. As we looked over the beautiful Baha'i temple and grounds above the Port of Haifa it couldn't escape our notice that although the past couple of days have been rainy, every time we've gotten off the bus the rain has stopped and the sun come out!

From there we headed to Atlit, the infamous detention camp where the British put Jews who tried to come to Palestine illegally (under the British Mandate, only 5000 Jews were allowed into Palestine each year, despite the Holocaust taking place at the very moment in Europe). We walked through the barracks surrounded by barbed wire where the British placed Jewish refugees, so similar in appearance to the camps that many had just escaped from in Europe. In 1945, the Palmach (the pre-State Jewish defense organization) staged a daring midnight raid under the leadership of Yitzchak Rabin to liberate 208 inmates who were about to be deported to their countries of origin - a certain death sentence. The operation was a stunning success and all the refugees were saved.

From Atlit we traveled to Zichron Ya'akov, one of the first two settlements of Jews coming from Europe in the late 19th century with the aspiration of working the land and laying the foundations for a Jewish state. The famous Rothschild family helped fund the enterprise and set up vineyards for the new immigrants to cultivate; today it is the home of the Carmel wineries. Zichron is also a quaint town, a favorite site for Israeli tourists and we enjoyed wandering among the historical streets and stores filled with crafts (think New Hope in the Galil!). As we headed down toward Tel Aviv we pulled over to look out over the Mediterranean and recite the blessing the rabbis prescribed for the occasion: "Blessed is the One who creates the Great Sea."

And as we pulled into the city we were greeted by yet another rainbow - surely as sign?

In the Galil

The Galil (Ga-LEEL) or Galilee is the northern portion of Israel. It is a vital source of Israel's food and water, and is the home of Israel's network of kibbutzim. It is also the place where much of Jewish history in the Land of Israel took place from the fall of the Temple in Jerusalem in 70 C.E. until the early 20th century, from the early rabbis of Yavneh in the 2nd-6th centuries, to the Masoretes of Tiberias from the 8th-11th centuries, to the kabbalists of Tzfat from the 15th-17th centuries, to the kibbutznikim of the early aliyah periods in the 19th century. In other words, the history of the Galil in this period is for all intents and purposes the history of Jews in the Land of Israel.

After a brief detour to the Golan to see the strategic importance of this territory captured from Syria in 1967, we headed to Tzfat in the Upper Galilee. Tzfat is one of the four traditional holy cities in Israel (along with Jerusalem, Hebron, and Tiberias) and has been a center of Kabbalah and Jewish mysticism since the 16th century. We visited one of the synagogues of the Ari, Rabbi Isaac Luria, who developed a new version of Kabbalah, and the synagogue of Rabbi Joseph Caro, codifier of the seminal book of Jewish law the Shulchan Aruch. On our way down into the valley we looked out over the fields where the mystics went out to greet Shabbat singing a brand new song of their own composition, Lechah Dodi.

In the afternoon we went to Moshav Shorashim, headquarters of an organization called the Galilee Foundation for Value Education that is dedicated to dialogue and finding common ground between Israeli Jews and Israeli Arabs living in the Galil. Approximately 50% of the population of the Galil are Arabs (the vast majority of whom are Sunni Muslim and a smaller part of whom are Christian and Druze) and they generally live in their own villages, separate from Israeli Jews who live in larger towns and cities. Unlike the Palestinians who live beyond the Green Line (the pre-1967 border) Israeli Arabs are full citizens of Israel. On paper they enjoy the same rights as any other Israelis (although except for the Druze they don't have mandatory military service) but in reality often live as second-class citizens, with less infrastructure, social services, and economic opportunity.

Rabbi Marc Rosenstein arranged a mifgash for us with Arab teens at Majad al-Krum, a Muslim village of roughly 15,000 people. We met at the community center and it was a somwhat chaotic and exuberant undertaking, but there were some really meaningful and important interactions with the teens that focused on personal plans for the future, politics, and feelings toward Jews and Israel. It was possible to see the future taking form in front of us, with changing attitudes toward family structures and dating, and girls who would never have gone to university a generation before planning to go to school and become professionals. We heard from teens who supported Hezbollah and teens who had close Jewish friends, from teens who were planning on staying in their village and teens who wanted to travel and live abroad. The take-home message was that there were as many different views and opnions as there were kids. And so once again we learned that the only generalization about Israel is that it's impossible to generalize; that the situation is varied and complex and the only way forward is to get to know people as individuals, do the hard work of building relationships one-on-one, and moving ahead together.

Toward the Rabbinic Period

Our itinerary has been structured around the core Reconstructionist concept of understanding Judaism as the evolving religious civilization of the Jewish people and, with some exceptions, to this point our focus has primarily been on the period of Jewish history when the Jews lived in Israel under their own sovereignty, whether visiting the Dead Sea region (whose inhospitable terrain gave rise to the stories of the destruction of Sodom and Gomorrah), Ein Gedi (where David hid from Saul and setting for the Biblical Song of Songs), Masada (final stand of a group of Jewish zealots in the face of a Roman seige in 73 C.E.), seeing the Dead Sea Scrolls (recorded by a sectarian group at Qumran around the 2nd century B.C.E.), or of course visiting the Old City of Jerusalem and touring the Temple Walls. Now we are headed out of Jerusalem toward the north, toward the Galilee (in Hebrew: Galil), which became the center of rabbinic activity following the destruction of the Temple in 70 C.E. and the cradle of Rabbinic Judaism.

It's worth noting that classic Zionist ideology minimized the significance of Jewish historical development between the fall of the Temple in 70 and the resurgence of aliyah in the late 19th century, as though Jewish history were only a litany of passive victimization when the Jews aren't living strong and independent in their land. To be sure there was plenty of suffering but there was plenty of success and innovation as well, and Judaism and Jewish history continued to evolve in creative and dynamic ways following the year 70. Judaism as it exists today is a Diaspora religion and the founding of the State of Israel has posed some interesting issues and challenges - what it means, for example, to say, 'Next year in Jerusalem' - that are still being worked out today. Our trip affords us the opportunity to trace the further development of Jewish history in the Land of Israel as we head up north for the next stage of our trip.

On the way out of Jerusalem we stopped at Har Herzl, the cemetery where Israel's soldiers and other important figures in the history of the State are buried. We visited the graves of Theodor Herzl, Yitzchak Rabin, Golda Meir, and other prominent leaders, and paid our respects to hundreds of less famous and renowned soldiers who bravely gave their lives in the cause of defending the State. Near the grave of Yoni Netanyahu (older brother of Benjamin Netanyahu, graduate of Cheltenham High School (class of '64), and hero of the famed raid on the Entebbe) we gathered to say Kaddish in recognition of these brave and heroic sacrifices, and sang Hatikvah.

We headed north to Beit Alfa where a 6th century synagogue was uncovered in the 1920's with beautiful - but idolatrous! - mosaic floors depicting the sacrifice of Isaac, but also the symbols of the zodiac and a figure of the Greek sun god Helios. From there we went to Beit She'an where there are fabulous ruins of a 3rd century Roman town called Scythopolis. As we climbed back toward the bus the skies, which had been been stormy and threatening all day, suddenly opened up and we dashed the last steps of the way through driving rain and hail. But the sun came back out later and as we drove by the Sea of Galilee we recited the blessing for the gorgeous rainbow that appeared over the lake.

A Look at Present-Day Israel

Last night we met Calev Ben-David, editor and columnist for the Jerusalem Post who spoke with us about Israeli perspectives on the matzav - literally 'the situation,' the catch-all phrase Israelis use to describe the ongoing conflict with the Palestinians and the wider Arab world. He spoke about the tensions between Israel's hopes for peace, the complicated political realities on the ground, and the strange situations and bedfellows the tension engenders.

This morning we took a tour of the security barrier that separates Jewish and Palestinian communities with Rabbi David Forman, one of the founders of Rabbis for Human Rights. The barrier runs roughly 750 kilometers and has been the source of great controversy, both in Israel and without since it often deviates from the pre-1967 boundary. In much of Jerusalem the barrier takes the form of a wall, up to eight meters high. We followed the course of the wall both from high up on the hills of Jerusalem and from down close, and Rabbi Forman spoke to us about how the wall causes hardships and even suffering to the Palestinians on the other side but also saves Israeli lives. This tension between Israel's (inconsistent) drive to act ethically (to be an 'or la-goyim' - 'a light to the nations') on the one hand and its legitimate security needs on the other was a recurring theme throughout the day's discussions. It was one Rabbi Forman felt keenly and, it was clear, thought Israel did not always do enough to negotiate responsibly (while pointing out at the same time that Israel acts more responsibly in regards to preserving the rights of minorities in the face of terror than many other countries, the United States included).

Our tour concluded with visits to two bus shelters where suicide bombers had carried out horrific attacks that claimed dozens of Israeli lives - attacks the separation barrier might have prevented. We looked at the homemade memorials that had sprung up in memory of the victims and recited Kaddish together for these young people whose lives had been tragically and brutally cut short.

Following this sobering experience we visited Beit Midrash Elul, a small organization that brings Israelis together from across the political and religious spectrum to study traditional Jewish texts together and dialogue. We were going for a mifgash, best translated as 'an encounter,' where we would sit down with the Israelis for a frank exchange of views on the various topics we'd been grappling with since we arrived.

We broke into small groups to talk, each with about five Or Hadashers and two Israelis. My group included Roni Yavin, the head of Elul, and a student named Gerah. They were a wonderful pair since religiously and politically they were very different from one another, with Roni an advocate for negotiations and a two-state solution and Gerah saying all territory must remain a part of the State of Israel. As you can imagine, this made for some very interesting - but always thoughtful and respectful - conversations that ranged from the chances for peace, to what keeps Israelis drawn to Israel, to the connection between Jews in Israel and the Diaspora, to sources of Jewish identity. The one definitive conclusion we reached - in fact the one conclusion to take away from all our learning and discussions about contemporary Israel to date - is that nothing is simple or straightforward, nothing can be reduced to black and white, right and left, Jewish and Arab, religious and secular. That no newspaper story can begin to capture the tensions and complexities and that the only way forward is to meet and truly encounter each other with all our nuances, fears, hopes, and contradictions. This was the work of these last series of programs we've engaged in as a group. We concluded on a hopeful note, Israeli and American, singing together the prayer for peace, 'Oseh Shalom Bimromav.'

To Points South

We boarded our bus early to ride down to Masada, the mountaintop fortress where a group of zealous Jews made their final stand against the Romans. In 73 C.E., when it was obvious that there was no hope for them to prevail, they took their own lives rather than be captured by the Romans. For many years Masada has been an important symbol for Israelis of Jews standing strong and sacrificing themselves for their independence in the Land. As I wrote the other day about Yad va-Shem, Israelis are beginning to reassess their commitment to strength at all costs and are recognizing some of the more ambivalent aspects of the symbolism of Masada. For example, the Israeli Defense Forces used to have their final swearing-in at the top of the Masada but have since abandoned this practice and the symbolism it suggests.

The top of Masada, needless to say, is breathtaking, with views over the Dead Sea and the Judean Desert where the first Patriarchs and Matriarchs dwelled. There is a beautiful new cable car that nearly all of us took advantage of but a brave (foolhardy?) group, led by Jeff Alper, braved the legendary snake path on foot.

Our guide, Raya, was part of the original excavation team as a student in the 1960's under the direction of famed Israeli archaeologist Yigal Yadin. We toured the fabulous remains and then continued on to Ein Gedi, the lush Biblical oasis where David hid from Saul and whose beauty is invoked in the Song of Songs. At a waterfall in Ein Gedi we celebrated a renewal of vows for two of our couples - 30 years for Phil Rosenberg and Penny Levin and 25 years for Robert and Amy Goldberg-Alberts as hyraxes ran on the rocks above. On our way out of the park, a pack of ibexes ran across the road right in front of our bus.

Next we went to the Dead Sea, so named because nothing can live in its intensely salty waters and the lowest point on earth, 1200 feet below sea level. The salt and minerals dissolved in the water are so concentrated that it's impossible to sink. Many of the first-timers didn't believe that you could really float without any effort and were amazed when the Dead Sea actually worked exactly as advertised. We floated and giggled like children and floated some more. Then many people went over to a part of the beach where there are famed mud deposits that are supposed to rejuvenate the skin. They coated themselves with thick black mud as I headed up from the beach with the sound of their laughter ringing in my ears...

Shabbat in Jerusalem

It's been such a full and wonderful experience celebrating Shabbat as a community in Jerusalem - I don't even know where to begin! We all travelled Friday afternoon to the Dung Gate, the entrance to the Old City nearest to the Kotel and there a guard let us through a special entrance to go down to Robinson's Arch.

Robinson's Arch is an area at the foot of the Western Wall where archaeological excavations are taking place. It is at a part of the Wall to the side of the plaza and here - and only here - women and men can pray together at the Wall (the section of the Kotel by the plaza is strictly separated by gender). We stood at the base of those giant stones, at the wall that suurounded the Temple complex 2000 years ago, and felt ourselves surrounded by history. History, but also the present because as we began our prayers we could also hear the singing from the plaza above coming down to us. And so we prayed - separate from and yet embraced by the prayers of those around us.

It was so moving to pray as we did, especially when we came to the Barchu and I invited us to turn to face the direction of the Temple in Jerusalem - mere feet in front of our faces! And as our outdoor service continued and the light began to fade a strange thing happened: a trick of the light surely, yet it seemed that as the sky grew darker the stones of the wall before us grew lighter, as though they were shining with their own internal light.

It's hard to guess what the guard made of this mixed group of American Jews as he waited for us to finish so he could let us back out, but at the end of the service when I invited everyone to mention names of people for whom they were reciting Kaddish, he shyly raised his hand and said, "Ha-Ima sheli" ("my mother") and then proceded to recite Kaddish with us - us with our American accents and him with his strong Separdic one, yet all Jews praying together. We left Robinson's Arch singing 'Yerushalayim shel Zahav.'

Following our own service we went over to the Kotel plaza to allow those who wished to join the dancing throngs at the main section of the Wall. I took advantage of the opportunity to place the notes that I was given in the Wall.

Following dinner back at the hotel, a group of us hung out and discussed poems about Jerusalem by the great Israeli poet Yehudah Amichai. We used the lens of his poetry to reflect on our own experiences and our feelings of connection and of otherness in this deeply freighted city.

Shabbat morning we joined the Reconstructionist rabbinical students in Israel for services. They hold services once a month at Beit Shmuel - the campus of the Reform movement's seminary in Israel. It was wonderful to pray with other Reconstructionists in these beautiful surroundings and to have a sense of fully being at home in Jerusalem. During the service I presented the minyan with a cover for their Torah table with designs by students from our religious school. On this Shabbat when the Torah reading speaks of bringing gifts for the sanctuary from the heart it was incredible to present a goft of our own and know it will be a part of our movement's sanctuary in Jerusalem. Following this, we were all called up for a group aliyah - adding the experience of being called up to the Torah to the experience of being 'up' in Jerusalem.

Following lunch with the rabbinical students we visited the Israel Museum and then the bus returned us to the hotel for some much-needed Shabbat rest. This evening we were joined by Rabbi Amy Klein, the director of RRC's Israel program who spoke with us about alternative forms of religious expression arising among young, progressive Israeli Jews and their affinity with Reconstructionism. Now we have to get ourselves to bed for a big day ahead tomorrow - visits to Masada, the Ein Gedi nature preserve, and the Dead Sea.

Visiting Yad va-Shem

We spent the whole first part of the day at Yad va-Shem, Israel's Holocaust museum. The museum is profoundly powerful and moving, chronicling the history of the Holocaust starting with Hitler's rise to power and ending naturally enough with the founding of the State of Israel.

The museum has been completely redone and opened back up in 2005. The design is very effective, with the body of the museum housed in a giant concrete wedge that hangs over a precipice far above the city. The exhibits are laid out in rooms on either side of the wedge and you move back and forth as you go, giving a sense of constriction and confinement. The ideology of the museum has also changed notably. When Yad va-Shem first opened (in the 1960's, I believe) a great emphasis was placed on Jewish heroism and resistance in the face of unimaginable evil. It was an important message for the young state but one that moved the focus away from the suffering of the victims. In the museum's new incarnation those voices have been powerfully restored. It's a tribute to Israel's growing maturity as a country that acknowledging the victims in this way can be recognized as a sign of strength, where in the 1960's it would have been looked on as weakness.

After Yad va-Shem we went to Machaneh Yehudah, the main Jerusalem market to see the hustle and bustle of shoppers getting ready for Shabbat. We're getting ready for Shabbat ourselves - in another hour or so we'll meet to go back to the Old City where we'll have services at a special section of the Western Wall designated for women and men to pray together. I'm very excited by this since last time I was here that wasn't a possibility.

As I write I can hear the sound of the muezzin calling Muslims to afternoon prayers.

I hope you're enjoying following along with our travels. Please feel free to post your comments and reactions to the blog, although I may not be able to read them until I get back.

Shabbat Shalom from Jerusalem!

Arrival in Jerusalem

After a smooth flight we arrived at Ben Gurion airport as the sun was coming up. The airport has been completely renovated over the last few years and was beautiful - a far sight from when they dropped you off on the tarmac! It's amazing to see how much the country has changed even over just a few years - a reminder that Israel is a living, breathing country and not a museum piece.

We arrived in Jerusalem where there wasn't a hint remaining of the surprise snowstorm that hit the city last week. We stopped at the Haas Promenade for a panoramic view of Jerusalem and a blessing of gratitude for our safe arrival. Then we proceded to the Old City where we walked through the souk (Arab market) to the Jewish Quarter and the Kotel - the last surviving structure of the original Temple complex, destroyed by the Romans in 70 C.E. We walked through the tunnels where archaeologists have uncovered huge sections of the Temple retaining wall that are currently below ground level. It was very powerful to realize what a small section of that original wall the Kotel is and how little of it we see from the plaza - a striking reminder of the historical layers of Jerusalem, both spiritual and literal...

And We're Off!

After all the planning and anticipation it's finally happening -- forty-one congregants met outside of Or Hadash and paused long enough to snap a group photo before boarding a bus for Newark. We said a brief prayer for a safe, moving, and - who knows? - maybe even a transformative trip and were off.

Now El Al security and a ten-hour flight is all that lies between us and Israel...