Dear Friends,
 
I just returned from nearly two weeks in Israel, my fourth visit since October 7, this time with two different but equally powerful CJP missions. Similar to my previous visits, this trip was both painful and hopeful, devastating and inspiring. Day after day, we met with extraordinary and resilient people, including:
 
The mother of a young hostage in Gaza.
 
A father whose son, a combat reservist in the Army, was about to leave his own children and return to battle.
 
The President and First Lady, Isaac and Michal Herzog, as well as U.S. Ambassador to Israel, Jack Lew, who spend much of their time visiting bereaved families. 
 
Colleagues and friends from Haifa, who described their efforts to support and resettle displaced people from northern border towns and villages, even as they worry about whether and when rockets will fall on their homes and their families.
 
Leaders of organizations who are responding to the most basic needs of Israel’s citizens, especially trauma and mental health.
 
Social innovators and entrepreneurs who have bold ideas and plans for rebuilding and reimagining Israeli society not only in the acute aftermath of October 7, but for generations to come.
 
So many moments stand out for me when I think about this visit and the spirit of the Israeli people. Here are just a few:

An Ethiopian woman and educator at the Yemin Orde youth village for children at risk captured the miracle and the messiness of immigration to Israel, the “ingathering of the exiles”: “It’s easy to complain about how unfair things are, but it’s harder to lead positive change and make things better. I’m not waiting for people to welcome me — this is my home. This is our country, and we have to fight for it.”

We walked the hallowed ground of the Nova Festival massacre. Seeing the images displayed of the hundreds of young people who were brutally murdered in the prime of their lives was simply excruciating. I was there with my own 21-year-old son and could not help feeling: These could be my children; these are all our children. Then we saw a field of trees that families of victims had planted, one for each person killed — one small sign of hope during this pilgrimage to hell. It was inconceivable to me how the parents of these children had the spiritual and emotional fortitude to literally plant seeds of new life in the face of such anger, pain, and loss. Our amazing tour educator said to us, “When you return in the future, these trees will still be here, and will have blossomed and grown, because we choose life.”

An art exhibit in Tel Aviv displayed inspiring photos from one of our newest grantees, HaGal Sheli (My Wave), an organization that works with at-risk youth and now, survivors of October 7 and wounded soldiers, to heal bodies and souls through surfing. The title of the exhibit struck me immediately: “You fall down, and you get back up.” Perhaps because we had tried surfing one day earlier with them (don’t ask how it went!), the metaphor of riding the waves of the sea felt especially powerful. The exhibit’s title reminded me of the line from the Book of Proverbs: “A righteous person falls down seven times.” You might think that the righteous person never falls, never fails, never struggles, but it is precisely the opposite. Instead, righteousness means growth through failure, suffering and loss, and having the resilience, strength, and courage to keep getting back up even when the ocean seems so vast, the undercurrent so strong, the waves so big.

Perhaps the most moving moment of this trip for me occurred during one of our closing circles. One of our participants, a community member visiting Israel for her first time, shared a reflection. “I know that we were only here for a few days, and we spent most of our time in meetings. Some of you feel bad that I didn’t get to see more of the country since this is my first trip. But after meeting these people — it feels super clear to me: I have seen Israel.”
 
The humanity, the vulnerability, the will — not only to survive but to build back better and turn post-traumatic stress into post-traumatic growth — these are the pioneers of Israel’s next 76 years, and they are our family. They are Israel.

Shabbat Shalom,  

Rabbi Marc Baker 

Sign up to receive Marc's bi-weekly emails to our community.