Israel: Same home, new renovations
This summer, we traveled to the East Coast to introduce Stevie to our extended family. We stayed in each of our childhood homes - but with a baby - experienced them with new eyes. Remarkably, the changing table in the Losben house still stood in an old bedroom, sturdy and usable. As Grandmom Andee helped wipe a dirty tush, she exclaimed, “I can’t believe my granddaughter is now on this table!” At my house, my mom pulled out old dresses from the attic, “you wore this to your first birthday…Maybe it will fit Stevie soon?”
Being back home brought an overwhelming sense of nostalgia, sharing old memories in a new way, passing on items, experiences, and values to the next generation. L’dor V’dor. That is what returning home meant.
But as Stevie started to crawl around in an old living room, I saw our childhood homes with another set of eyes. I started to ask myself, “Have the carpets always been this stained? Are they clean enough for a baby?” As Stevie reached for items on the shelves - porcelains, glass snow globes, crystal bowls - I thought not of sentimental items from a family collection but rather, “Who still uses this stuff? “Do we still need those?” Maybe it’s time to donate all these safety hazards?” And the hand-me-down items - clothing, bedding, dolls from our childhoods - suddenly didn’t seem so nostalgic anymore. Just dusty clutter that had taken up a lot of space for a lot of years.
In many ways, returning to your childhood home is like traveling to Israel as an American Jew. Over a trip of a few weeks, we relish hearing Hebrew spoken on the streets (Even if we don’t fully understand it.) We discover the falafel is more flavorful and the pita more fresh, we revel in “walking the bible” over ancient landscapes, or floating magically in the dead sea. We feel a renewed pride in being Jewish, experiencing the magic of Shabbat as an entire country settles into a period of rest. We don’t even mind the gruff, “Slichah!” Excuse me! As people push or cut in line…oh, it’s so Israeli! We marvel!
But after a while, in the same way that you might realize a parent’s house isn’t as put together as it once was, you realize that Israel isn’t quite the same country that you were taught about in Hebrew school, or by your parents and grandparents, or that you once visited years ago. Generations later, the stains are showing. You learn that the Kibbutz movement- once a beacon of egalitarian life- has essentially evaporated, the power of the rabbanut- who makes decisions over jewish life and practice- feels controlling over those who are liberal or secular. The settler movement who calls for a greater Israel have expanded beyond internationally recognized borders without consequences. Even the dead sea is quickly evaporating and the salt can really burn your eyes! Especially now, Israeli society feels like it’s on the brink of collapsing over internal discord.
Last November, the most ultra-religious and ultra-nationalist coalition in Israel’s history came together to form Israel’s current government. This summer, that governing coalition passed legislation that will end the High Court’s authority to strike down government decisions that it deems “unreasonable.” This reform, aimed at limiting the power of Israel’s supreme court, eliminates institutional checks and balances that are crucial in any democracy. Those who oppose the bill understand it as a slow and incremental loss of Israel’s democratic nature; a failure of Israel to live up to the ideals espoused in its Declaration of Independence: “liberty, justice, and peace, as imagined by the Hebrew Prophets.”
In response, over the last seven months, hundreds of thousands of Israeli citizens, in a country of just over nine million, took to the streets of major cities each weekend to protest the reforms and future plans of the current government. The chant, “Demokratia!” could be heard over and over. The protestors represent a spectrum of key sectors of Israeli society, old and young, business leaders, labor leaders, physicians, the LBGTQ+ community, the Israeli Reform movement, and even members of the Israel Defense Forces reserves joining together, using the unifying Israeli Flag as their symbol of a democratic and Jewish state. Democracy cannot be taken for granted.
Early Zionist thinkers agreed on one thing: That life in Europe was untenable for the Jews. But beyond that, their views diverged. From its very beginning, Zionism, the theory of Jewish statehood, has been an ongoing debate about what it means to exist as a Jewish state. Zionism challenges us with questions about the democratic nature of the Jewish state, about how judges are appointed, and the role a constitution should play- if any at all. Zionism challenges us to consider the relationship between religion and state, such as what jewish observances should be publicly recognized and how the rabbanut functions, and who controls religious sites. Zionism challenges us to ask about the future of settlements and disputed territories, how Israel treats non-Jews, and how citizens and non-citizens have protected human rights. Zionism challenges us to think about how to best secure a Jewish homeland and about the relationship between Israel and the rest of the world.
Zionism presents us with these questions over and over again, but how you answer may vary greatly depending on your generation, your jewish identity, your political views, or where your ancestors came from. But most deeply, our personal and collective memories shape our understanding of Israel. As if we were returning to a childhood home, what memories shape our understanding of Israel today?
To invoke one powerful memory, I invite us to time travel back 50 years- to this day, Yom Kippur. Israelis and American Jews sat in Shul as we do now, with hearts focused on Teshuva, on Community, on God. The deputy executive director of Hadassah magazine, an olah, Barbara Goldstein recalls: I sat in the first row of the balcony of Yeshurun Synagogue on King George Street with the children. At 1 P.M, `We were singing the “Aleinu,” the central prayer acknowledging God’s sovereignty in the world, and all the men were prostrating themselves before God (something I had never seen in the States). Then began what I assumed at first was another unfamiliar custom: men running around the synagogue tapping dozens of others who jumped up and, with their talitot waving, left the sanctuary. I asked the woman to my right what was happening. “Nothing good,” she whispered.
I took the kids outside. I couldn’t believe my eyes: Dozens of half-tracks with hundreds of young and middle-aged men jumping onto the vehicles with their kittels, talitot and mahzorim! A I understood that war was upon us. I walked to the intersection of King George and Agron and someone with a transistor heard the BBC reporting on the surprise attack from the south and the north. The solemnity of the day was broken. At Neila, we cried: “Seal us, o God, in the Book of Life.” More than 2,000 of Israel’s sons, husbands and fathers sacrificed their lives.
During the early days of the Yom Kippur War – which were among Israel’s darkest and bleakest – then Defense Minister Moshe Dayan uttered an exasperated defeatist sigh and said, “The Third Temple has fallen.” The existential threat that the State faced during the war was real, but the aftermath of the war changed Israel even more.
In his essay, “Awe and Memory”, David Weiss writes:
Until the outbreak of the Yom Kippur War, Israel was a bastion. The great victory in 1967 had proved our strength, for all the ongoing tension on the borders and the fierce encounters with enemy infiltrators. But now, Egyptian divisions have broken deep into the Sinai and Syrian tanks are streaming down the heights above the Galilee. Now, there is whispered talk of panic among Israel’s leadership. And now, the Israel Defense Forces’ assurances ring hollow and deceptive—the IDF whose word had always been unchallenged truth.
In his newest book, Impossible Takes Longer, Daniel Gordis interprets that after the Yom Kippur war, Israeli society expressed their anger and disappointment for the first time at what they felt was the inept response of the government. While Israel technically “won” the war- or at least repelled the invaders- the economy fell into one of the worst depressions in history, as most of the country's labor force was called up to military services for half a year. Even a new relationship to Judaism emerged as people grieved, and as their faith was tested. The war felt like an equal assault on Jewish practice as on the state of Israel itself. Historians also mark the aftermath of the Yom Kippur war, as a major shift in the leadership of Israel, from the left wing socialist vision of Golda Meir to Menachem Begin, both a capitalist, and traditionalist in every way. That initial shared narrative of Israel, had shifted irrevocably. Like the worn homes we return to, Israel’s leadership had cracks in the foundation. Our answers to Zionism’s questions had started to differ even more.
I am not the first, or only one to notice a connection between the lack of faith in Israel’s leadership post the Yom Kippur War and today. Rabbi Na’amah Kelman, the First Female Rabbi ordained in Israel, noted how the Veterans of 1973 are among the groups leading current protests in Israel. They are at all the rallies with T-Shirts demanding that their service and horrific losses were not in vain. She considers, “Like post-1973 , this is a moment of reckoning for Israel. We are asking questions about who makes the leadership decisions of Israel and who pays the price. Currently, it is not war thank God but there are clear battle lines.”
And while those questions are being asked in a huge, public way, the current protests are also a recommitment to the founding narrative of Israel. By protecting the democratic nature of Israel, modern society is continuing to weigh often conflicting values: Being Jewish and Democratic.
Yossi Klein HaLevi, Daniel Gordis and Matti Friedman- all forward Israeli thinkers from an American background, published an open letter in the Times of Israel this past winter, addressing us- Israel’s Friends in North America. They write: Today, protecting Israel also means defending it from a political leadership that is undermining our society’s cohesion and its democratic ethos, the foundations of the Israeli success story. The changes afoot will have dire consequences for the solidarity of Israel’s society and for its economic miracle…It will also threaten Israeli-American relations, and it will do grave damage to our relations with you, our sisters and brothers in the Diaspora.
Israel is a fundamental touchstone for American Jews. However, we have all related to Israel through different lenses, different narratives, and different memories over time. Yet as Billy Joel sings, “The good ole’ days weren't always good.” Of course, the stains were always a part of Israel. At this moment, they are feeling more magnified than ever. Therefore we must see Israel with new eyes…maybe the lens with which we used to understand Israel is no longer the best serving narrative of our homeland?
I am of a generation Now nicknamed by scholars as the “Birthright Generation” , I am in line with the research conducted about those who attended the popular trip during their college years. It solidified my relationship with both Israel and to Jewish life. But each generation following, subsequent research is more bleak. There is more and more growing anger and resentment towards the Jewish State stemming from a perception that it is behaving in contrast to liberal democratic and universalistic Jewish values. Jewish Education has failed to help our kids engage with the nuances of Israeli existence and the stories from parents and parents did not align with what we could see on the news. Without adapting Israel’s founding narrative to meet the realities of what the country experienced, we strayed further and further from a realistic understanding of our homeland.
Perhaps you remember Israel as the state that has prevailed against numerous enemies that have sought to destroy her and you fear the ones that still harbor this hope. Maybe for you, Israel is the metaphor of David and Goliath- an underdog who prevails against larger enemies. Maybe you continue to follow security issues and take pride in the high tech defense system that Israel developed, a world class army, and support US aid for military funding.
Maybe you understand Israel’s Law of Return as a key to your relationship. Was Israel the place that saved your own family from persecution in other lands? You may still swell with pride remembering how Israel rescued Jewish refugees from Ethiopia and from the Former Soviet Union. You may have demonstrated or fundraised for this effort. And perhaps you consider Aliyah, declaring citizenship in a country that belongs to you by virtue of being jewish.
Or your relationship to Israel is through advocacy. You want to support causes that align with your Jewish values. You marvel at the environmental initiatives that Israel has led. You celebrate that Tel Aviv holds a PRIDE parade. Maybe, you are involved in the Israeli Reform Movement or Women of the Wall and want to celebrate the expansion of progressive Jewish understanding and practice in Israeli life. And perhaps your advocacy extends to the human rights of non-Jewish citizens of Israel or Palestinians living in the West Bank and Gaza. You want to see Israel do better in extending education, medical care, freedom to travel, and basic infrastructure for all who live there.
Maybe you are a patron of Israeli art, poetry, and literature. You engage with Israel through its media, news, entertainment, food, and culture. Amazed that in such a short history, such a rich and diverse expression of what it means to be Israeli is also a part of Jewish identity. Or through your own Jewish expression, your understanding of liturgy, holidays, and spiritual life has been so impacted by the Jewish State that to imagine contemporary Judaism and Jewish identity today without Israel is inconceivable. Or maybe you are a teen on social media, trying to navigate an understanding of Israel that goes beyond what you have learned in Hebrew school. As you see more and more images showing the vast disparity of living conditions between Israelis and Palestinians, you want to better understand the complexities of Israeli society. And maybe you’ve recently traveled there, or plan to, because you want to love Israel, even with its imperfections.
Israel is all the symbols, stories, beliefs, expressions, and actions out of which Jewish belonging is knit. These are the narrative strands that weave together the nation we call Israel and give us hope for its future. When we discover the narrative meaningful to each of us, we affirm Israel’s role in Jewish life and help foster a sophisticated love of the land called, ahavat tzion. While Israel belongs to its citizens, Israel matters to the entire Jewish people. So when we see Israel’s democracy under threat, we have a responsibility to make our disappointment known, whether it’s in casual conversation, on social media, through our elected officials, or by attending local rallies hosted by the UnXeptable movement, a home-grown, organic group of Israeli ex-pats, begun here in the Bay area. As Matti Friedman recently said on the Identity/Crisis podcast: “It sounds…sentimental that Israelis need to hear that you’re with us…things feel pretty lonely over here sometimes.”
Each of us becomes who we are, to some degree, because of the stories we are told about where we came from, how our parents grew up, what was important to them. We mark the passage of time by telling stories not of parents and grandparents but of ancestors who lived millenia ago. It is a goal of Jewish tradition that we would constantly have our history in mind and that these stories would help us to shape ourselves and the world at large. We returned today to the Yom Kippur war because the collective memory of what it is like to be a people who formed and fought for and died for the state of Israel, reminds us that we can overcome hardship, schism, disillusionment and heal. Returning to our past will indeed inspire us to create the Israel we want to see in the future.
So this year, I invite you to join me in your commitment to refresh your lenses, and update your perception to see Israel with new eyes. We will start by learning together. I invite PTBE members to join me as a cohort at the Oshman Family JCC on Sunday November 5th followed by a reflection opportunity at PTBE. Through generous funding, I invite anyone who wants to come as a guest of PTBE. I’ll follow up with an email to share a code for registration.
Speaking of funding- if you are a teen in our community, we want to financially support your travel to Israel. Past students have benefited from generous scholarships to semester long High School programs in Israel, NFTY summer trips, or other organized learning opportunities. Our students and their parents would be happy to share with others who are interested. Because being there and engaging with Israel builds a relationship that we can never get through the newspaper.
Showing support also happens through tzedakah, giving funding that aligns with the Israeli Reform movement and other organizations that are building a more just, democratic, egalitarian, pluralistic Israel. Those links will be published with my sermon.
Finally, PTBE is reviving an Israel committee, an opportunity to better represent Israel in the culture and Jewish identity in our own community. There are so many lenses with which to engage with Israel- what would meaningful engagement look like at PTBE? That’s a question I want to answer in a relationship with you.
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My family ended up having a great visit to our childhood homes. Stevie got a few bumps on her head from the old coffee table, but she also got to spend time with grandparents, aunts, uncles, and cousins whose relationship can’t be defined in terms of dusty carpets or other safety hazards. And Shwa and I did a little investing in the upkeep of our parent’s homes. We bought a few items for them- a child seat for the table, a pack and play crib to sleep, and some new toys and books to make it more welcoming for Stevie on her next visit.
So we too can decide, Do we no longer engage with Israel because it’s a home in too much disarray? The political schisms too great to overcome? Or, do we return, again and again despite recognizing new decay, or new flaws on each visit? If the relationship is worth it, we will find a way to make it better.
On this Yom Kippur, 50 years after the worst Yom Kippur in our history, we add our voices to the protesting chorus of our Israeli Jewish family. We will invest our time, energy, intellectual capacity, curiosity, and financial resources to strengthen the State of Israel, the connection point of Jews from around the world. If there is one thing that’s always been true about Israel is that it was founded on Hope: HaTikvah. Let us not lose hope in the future of our homeland. It may be a home in need of repair, but the next generation of Jews will need it to be there, and will need to know there is a Jewish home to return to.
Organizations building a more just, democratic, egalitarian, pluralistic Israel: (As Shared by Rabbi Angela Buchdahl)
Israeli Movement for Progressive Judaism (IMPJ)
The umbrella organization for the Reform Movement in Israel, supporting the Reform congregations and rabbis.
https://reform.org.il/en/donate/
Israeli Religious Action Center (IRAC)
The Israeli Reform Movement’s legal arm which brings dozens of cases before their Supreme Court in defense of freedom of religion, civil rights, racial equality and Israeli democracy.
https://www.irac.org/support-irac-usa
The Movement for Quality Government in Israel
An independent, non-partisan NGO government that has promoted values of democracy, transparency, and civic engagement for over 25 years.
https://mqgisrael.org/
Kaplan Force
As the largest civic, democratic, and liberal group in the country, it utilizes lawful means to safeguard Israel from any potential threats to its democratic principles and ensure its continued progress.
https://go.kaplanforce.com/Donate501c3
[1] Metaphor of Israel as “visiting a parent’s home” was inspired by Rabbi Josh Weinberg: https://arza.org/looking-out-and-looking-in-why-do-we-need-zionism-part-ii/
[2] https://www.ajc.org/news/what-to-know-about-israels-judicial-reforms
[3] Description of Protests from Rabbi Jill Perlman, “Israel: A Conversation we need to Have.” http://rabbijillperlman.blogspot.com/2023/09/israel-love-conversation-we-need-to-have.html
[4] Barbara Goldstein. “Strange Customs” Awe & Memory: The Yom Kippur War 40 Years Later
https://www.hadassahmagazine.org/2013/10/13/awe-memory-yom-kippur-war-forty-years-later/
[5] David Weiss. “Watershed” Awe & Memory: The Yom Kippur War 40 Years Later. https://www.hadassahmagazine.org/2013/10/13/awe-memory-yom-kippur-war-forty-years-later/
[6] Daniel Gordis. Impossible Takes Longer: 75 Years After Its Creation, Has Israel Fulfilled Its Founders' Dreams? Harper Collins, 2023.
[7] Rabbi Naamah Kelman. Facebook Post
[8] Matti Friedman, Yossi Klein HaLevi, Daniel Gordis. An Open Letter to Israel’s Friends in North America. Op Ed. Times of Israel. Feb 2, 2023.
[9] Theodore Sasson, Charles Kadushin, Leonard Saxe. Trends in American Jewish Attachment to Israel: An Assessment of the ‘‘Distancing’’ Hypothesis. The Cohen Center for Modern Jewish Studies. Final published version in Contemporary Jewry, Volume 30, Issue 2‐3, pages 297‐319 https://scholarworks.brandeis.edu/esploro/outputs/journalArticle/Trends-in-American-Jewish-Attachment-to/9924073123401921
[10] https://www.hartman.org.il/program/identity-crisis-podcast/#episodes as cited by Rabbi Angela Buchdahl, “Am Yisrael Chai” https://www.centralsynagogue.org/worship/sermons/am-yisrael-chai
[11] Gordis, 1713-14
[12] Register using this link