Rabbi Donald Weber
Going to Israel? Some things to be afraid of
2013-10-03
Id: rdw45
Id: rdw45
You were in ISRAEL this summer? Weren’t you scared?
On the last day of our recent Rodeph Torah/Jewish Federation trip to Israel, I told our group that they would be asked this question again and again when they returned home. To prepare them for the inevitable, I asked everyone to tell me what they were scared about during our 11-day journey through the Galilee, the Golan Heights, Tel Aviv, the Negev, the Dead Sea, and of course, Jerusalem. Here are their responses:
- I was scared I would run out of money on our shopping trips.
- I was scared I would explode from over-eating.
- I was scared my wife would insist on buying a condo here before we left.
- I was scared I would be the first person not to float in the Dead Sea.
- I was scared our luggage would never arrive (long story, but it did – eventually).
- I was scared I wouldn’t survive the taxi ride in Jerusalem.
- I was scared the trip would end.
What’s missing from this list? As always, fears about our safety. This was the fifth Israel trip Shira and I have led, and there has not been one moment when we felt our lives were in jeopardy (well, except for the taxi ride).
We toured the Golan Heights. We actually stood about 300 feet from the Syrian border where we learned that until the current civil war in Syria, the only thing separating it from Israel was a
3-foot high, rusted chain-link fence. We also learned during our visit that over 100 victims of the Syrian violence have secretly been brought into Israel for treatment, and returned to their homes in complete privacy; if anyone knew that their lives had been saved by Israeli doctors, they would be in danger.
We visited a community center in an Arab town, where we saw a pioneering effort: a circus made up of Jewish and Moslem children and teenagers. They were delightful and talented – and just a part of the tiny effort to bridge the immense gap between the two peoples. But we never doubted our safety.
We were in the West Bank, too. We drove from the Dead Sea to Jerusalem that way, although no one who was unfamiliar with Israeli geography would know it. Our hotel was in East Jerusalem, and every trip downtown took us through Arab neighborhoods. We were even in Jerusalem during the holidays celebrating the end of the Moslem holiday of Ramadan, when 500,000 Muslims converged on the Temple Mount at the same time. What was it like to have a half-million Muslims observing their holiday together in Israeli-controlled Jerusalem? I’ll tell you: the traffic was murder! But here’s something that didn’t make the news in the United States: there was not one act of violence, not one arrest, in the four days of celebration. Not one. At the same time that Muslims were tearing their countries and each other apart in Syria, Egypt, Afghanistan and most of the countries that were recently celebrating the “Arab spring,” in Israel they were praying and celebrating in safety and in peace. Something to think about.
The trip itself was wonderful. Visiting places we love and places we’ve never seen before, having the opportunity to speak Hebrew again and having the holy experience of being surrounded by Jews of every age, every color, every nationality – there is nothing like a trip to Israel! Shira and I always enjoy sharing our love of Israel with others who have never seen it before, and the diverse group which Federation brought together from all over Monmouth County (and all over the United States) gave us new ways of seeing familiar sights.
Pictures from our trip are on the TRT Facebook page, and I hope you will check them out. But I would like to give you one image, one thought: On our last night in Jerusalem, we were returning to the hotel on our tour bus around 7:30 p.m. Several people said they planned to go “into town” on their own when we got back, and we realized it would be faster for them if we dropped them at the light-rail station. When we stopped the bus, over half the trip participants jumped off and headed for the train. When I saw 30 American Jews (well, 28 Jews and two Christians) hop off the tour bus to take a train downtown in a foreign country, with no concern except how late they could stay out at night, I knew our trip had been a success. Because they knew they weren’t in a foreign country at all. They were home.
On the last day of our recent Rodeph Torah/Jewish Federation trip to Israel, I told our group that they would be asked this question again and again when they returned home. To prepare them for the inevitable, I asked everyone to tell me what they were scared about during our 11-day journey through the Galilee, the Golan Heights, Tel Aviv, the Negev, the Dead Sea, and of course, Jerusalem. Here are their responses:
- I was scared I would run out of money on our shopping trips.
- I was scared I would explode from over-eating.
- I was scared my wife would insist on buying a condo here before we left.
- I was scared I would be the first person not to float in the Dead Sea.
- I was scared our luggage would never arrive (long story, but it did – eventually).
- I was scared I wouldn’t survive the taxi ride in Jerusalem.
- I was scared the trip would end.
What’s missing from this list? As always, fears about our safety. This was the fifth Israel trip Shira and I have led, and there has not been one moment when we felt our lives were in jeopardy (well, except for the taxi ride).
We toured the Golan Heights. We actually stood about 300 feet from the Syrian border where we learned that until the current civil war in Syria, the only thing separating it from Israel was a
3-foot high, rusted chain-link fence. We also learned during our visit that over 100 victims of the Syrian violence have secretly been brought into Israel for treatment, and returned to their homes in complete privacy; if anyone knew that their lives had been saved by Israeli doctors, they would be in danger.
We visited a community center in an Arab town, where we saw a pioneering effort: a circus made up of Jewish and Moslem children and teenagers. They were delightful and talented – and just a part of the tiny effort to bridge the immense gap between the two peoples. But we never doubted our safety.
We were in the West Bank, too. We drove from the Dead Sea to Jerusalem that way, although no one who was unfamiliar with Israeli geography would know it. Our hotel was in East Jerusalem, and every trip downtown took us through Arab neighborhoods. We were even in Jerusalem during the holidays celebrating the end of the Moslem holiday of Ramadan, when 500,000 Muslims converged on the Temple Mount at the same time. What was it like to have a half-million Muslims observing their holiday together in Israeli-controlled Jerusalem? I’ll tell you: the traffic was murder! But here’s something that didn’t make the news in the United States: there was not one act of violence, not one arrest, in the four days of celebration. Not one. At the same time that Muslims were tearing their countries and each other apart in Syria, Egypt, Afghanistan and most of the countries that were recently celebrating the “Arab spring,” in Israel they were praying and celebrating in safety and in peace. Something to think about.
The trip itself was wonderful. Visiting places we love and places we’ve never seen before, having the opportunity to speak Hebrew again and having the holy experience of being surrounded by Jews of every age, every color, every nationality – there is nothing like a trip to Israel! Shira and I always enjoy sharing our love of Israel with others who have never seen it before, and the diverse group which Federation brought together from all over Monmouth County (and all over the United States) gave us new ways of seeing familiar sights.
Pictures from our trip are on the TRT Facebook page, and I hope you will check them out. But I would like to give you one image, one thought: On our last night in Jerusalem, we were returning to the hotel on our tour bus around 7:30 p.m. Several people said they planned to go “into town” on their own when we got back, and we realized it would be faster for them if we dropped them at the light-rail station. When we stopped the bus, over half the trip participants jumped off and headed for the train. When I saw 30 American Jews (well, 28 Jews and two Christians) hop off the tour bus to take a train downtown in a foreign country, with no concern except how late they could stay out at night, I knew our trip had been a success. Because they knew they weren’t in a foreign country at all. They were home.