I am so thankful to Ner Shalom and Mejdi Tours, our guides Yael and Samer, for the incredible, once-in-a-lifetime experience of seeing Israel, its many historical sights, beautiful Tzfat, Jerusalem, museums, synagogues, and hearing representatives of its many diverse political and religious factions. I don’t think it would be possible to improve what was offered. It was incredibly well thought out. The food was also spectacular! 

What moves me still about the tour is the impact it has had on my life. It created a thirst in me to understand the cultural, historical and geopolitical environment that has resulted in the love for the land, the desire to keep it and the fear of losing that both Palestinians and Jews experience daily. This longing and desire perpetuates the conflict and the fear of losing blinds Israelis and Palestinians so that even though the Israelis continue on in the quest to settle in more and more of Palestine, there will be no winners until there is peace.

What stands out for me is how impacted I am emotionally and the incredible connection I now feel for Israel. Until this tour, I mostly focused on what was going on in the U.S. and doing my own part to understand our government, politics and how I can help make change. I have been interested in what  goes on in other parts of the world. But my knowledge of history, especially the history of Israel and the Middle East has been weak. Daily I seek out answers to questions about the modern day problem that plagues the people of that land. My Jewish identity is so much stronger. Spending time with my sister who has lived in Jerusalem for the last 12 years was another contributing factor to my new quest to understand. My need to keep informed and to empathize with the “other,” Palestinian Arabs and Druze, etc. is heightened.

On the last day of my visit, I had lunch with friends of my sister's. Vera was from Latvia and her family was able to immigrate to Israel after 1947. David was born in Israel. They want peace in Israel, but like for so many, the path is muddled. This conundrum is so sad for me. They said with sadness, there had been some hope in the 1990's with the various attempts at peace.  

As I walked to the gate of departure at the Tel Aviv Airport, there was a photographic exhibit about Yitzhak Rabin. Looking at the exhibit touched me deeply. There was a time . . . and hopefully, there will again be a time.

The short of it is, this journey brought me so much closer to my roots than at any other time in my life. I was so impacted and felt an incredible sadness about the situation for the Palestinians and the Jews. It feels right to “feel” it!

The opportunity to travel with a group of good people, led by a Rabbi with musical talent, singing together, eating delicious Mediterranean food together, taking in the beauty of the land and its people together and meeting so many fine people from the region itself was incredibly wonderful!

Thank you Ner Shalom for a tour well planned! Forever grateful.

I’m still trying to make sense out of where my deep loyalty and love for the Jewish state and the way Israel has treated the Palestinians come together. I’ve gone through lots of emotions and thoughts trying to come to a point of balance and I’m still struggling with it. 

I invite you to hear my story and experience it with me. This is a love story. This is our story. A story of many and a story of one. 

Building bridges in the presence of walls: a thank you to my tour group on the Ner Shalom Israel tour, 2023

My friends,

I want to thank everybody for the beautiful Shabbat service on June 30.

Reb Irwin, your opening remarks (I don’t know what to call them) were beautiful and really brought it all back to me…you captured the specialness of the trip and the group perfectly.

Everyone’s words during the service were transporting and inspiring, warm and full of caring.

Jenny, your drash/poem, even though I have read it a number of times, was such a beautiful opening of yourself in the person you are and the physical reality you live in. And your thanks and appreciation for how your needs were met and accommodated to the best of everyone’s ability… you were/are Welcome. I also appreciate you for what you are able to give back and what you do give forward - your warmth and your energy.

What people have written, what people said at the service:

I feel so privileged to know you all, and so grateful that somehow, almost on a whim, I decided this was the tour that I would take to see and understand Israel. (Laughing now: as though I could understand in the space of 10 days the thousands of years of human grappling with eternity and infinity and the human condition!)

Well, understanding is one thing, but as I have told a few people, my experience at the Western Wall was unique, was unsought, and I will carry it with me for the rest of my life.

As a non-Jew I feel very mixed about criticizing Israel (so few ears will bother to process the nuances) and yet I feel shredded knowing, having witnessed, what the Palestinians are subjected to. For most of my life, the Palestinians “were the bad guys”. I never wore a keffiyeh or had a great impression of Arafat like some of my progressive and feminist friends. But now bad guys, with whom I could not disagree more, are running Israel it seems.

Few, few regrets, but one I would state is wishing I had gone to the demonstration with Irwin and Yael. (Most of my regrets are due my feet giving out …)

None of us who are living in these extremely challenged democracies can be complacent anymore. Through traveling with you in Israel I learn(again) how necessary the bridges and bonds are among people of different traditions, colors, cultures, if we are going to salvage whatever “progress“ humanity has made, and try to avert the potential for a long and severe return to brutality of a scale and quality that most may have never known before. That’s a dark dark thing to say.

But I’m actually optimistic because I think we do — and we need to find and encourage the leaders that will facilitate this — still have the potential to turn what seems to be an ever-strengthening tide to turn it back — to raise the flag of liberation around the world - in Israel and the United States, in the places I know… Guatemala, Romania, Hungary, the US South. And so many more. Peace. Food. Safety. From democracy, liberty, equality. Your thoughtfulness and openness reminded me that Hope is a necessary ingredient.

I feel transformed by the beautiful and dedicated people I came to know since we first sat together in the pre-trip meetings. I will share that I suspected my introversion, and my sense of being “other” would make the trip a somewhat lonely experience. Nothing could’ve been further from the truth! I remember so many moments so dearly and many of them laughing, and many in shared wonder.

Thank you and thank you again, and let’s find ways to stay together to speak our truths together and separately and carry the message of connection and possibility, like the Parents Circle, and to carry our messages of the wall, that other wall and that terrible wall as we are able.

With love and deep respect,

Kathy

My sustaining memory of Israel: We went there as innocents. Not that we didn’t know, we did, but something happened to us there. Our eyes were opened. I think it happened to all of us. We became radicalized to the plight of the Palestinian people. That’s what happened there. You could even say that it was a systematic awakening. From the angry hiphop artists we accompanied on the streets of Jaffa, to the Palestinian Community Center luncheon in East Jerusalem, to the Separation Wall and Banksy’s art at the Walled Off Hotel in Bethlehem, to our lovely Arab tour guide, Samer, and our loving Palestinian bus driver, Hattem, who treated our Jenny with such respect, we couldn’t help but see what is happening there. And let’s not forget the gun-toting, American-born rabbi at the City of David, who title-searches homes occupied by Palestinians and evicts them when he discovers they were once homes of Jews. The huge Israeli flags now flying proudly in Palestinian neighborhoods as a message to the people of East Jerusalem, “We are moving in and you can’t stop us.”  And the Palestinian artists’ response of giant eyes painted on the hillside that say, “We can’t stop you, but we see what you are doing.”  And all of this and more occurred in a circle of Ner Shalomers, where friendships were forming and deepening alongside our growing awareness, and all was gently held by our beloved Reb Irwin. I have been forever transformed by this experience.

A story of brokenness and resilience.

One that is written on our bodies with the indelible ink of the soul. A Torah Story we can access in our collective in breath, exhaling together.

A story of Becoming larger than ourselves – smaller, too.

The space in between held together in the tenderness and tension of our sacred and intentional community.

Opposites united in ritual, bound by our love, Our differences, and the daily choices we made to take care of each other. 

Phrases like, “What do you need?” Or, “How can we be of service?” Often on our lips.Reflected in our actions.

An alignment of souls experiencing true love in ourselves and in our bodies.A felt sense of belonging A knowing of a love that is more blinding Than FearA love Fueled byRadical acts of empathy and sacrifice.

Evidenced inThe holding of hands andOpen hearted embraces Our prayers and movements throughout Israel And on and off the busOur thoughtful speechQuick forgiveness Genuine curiosity Vulnerability And our willingness toTend to those who oftentimes brought up the rear, like me.

We encouraged each other to climb hills and steps while paying attention to the parts in each of us that need to be held, shouldered and carried.

We made room inside for the parts that could not find a way around the walls that we faced. And the parts in all of us that are inaccessible.

The parts in all of us that seemingly cannot rise –They too, found a haven in this Torah we have written.As did the parts that had us playing with our foodOr bursting into song, on the spot with people from many lands.Our voices raised.A bridge to the divine in us and The delight that we areA reminder of our true natures asThe lights of peace, otherwise known as

Ner Shalomers!

With sharp and softer edges Blending into The One

A duty of care evident in the mundane and the sacred.In the distribution of water, electrolytes, See’s lollipops, cold medicines, constipation relieving remedies and Depends undergarments.

In the hiring of extra helpers and a wheelchair accessible tour bus.In the scouting out of accessible activities and pathways.In our willingness to ease pain by being present rather than turning away from it.

In Sally’s healing hands and wise counsel. Thank you for showing up and being a friend to everyone.

In Stephanie’s laughter,  caretaking, organizing and collecting money on the bus. 

In Rita’s voice in our ears. Whispering, “I am with you, Dear Ones, keep going.”

In Barbara’s  strength and shared grief and the ways she looks after us and tends to our love of learning. Thank you, Barbara for the frequent forehead kisses. 

In Jim D’s mensch ways and the percussion of his heart.  Thank you for keeping a smile on your face and mine, and leading with generosity. Thank you for your ability to make almost anything into a drum and a heartbeat for our group.

In Ellen’s remembering and writing down the names of Ner Shalomers we have lost. Thank you for sharing your longing with me, and inviting me to know you and be close with you. Thank you for keeping track of our angels and writing their names down.

In Adam’s quiet strength, devotion and dry wit and his uncanny ability to untangle jewelry and fix zippers and wrangle unwieldy adaptive equipment. In bringing me breakfast every day in Israel and at home. In keeping me on time. In all the sacrifices he makes every day so that me, and our  children and people with disabilities can live fully. 

I see you in your willingness to lift heavy metal and stuck wheels out of deep cracks and stone crevices. And your ability to pop any curb.

And your waiting patiently for slow lifts, and elevators, even if it meant your missing the beginning of a talk or a meal or a chance to let others get to know you better.

Thank you, most of all,  thank you for taking the long way around with me, respecting my autonomy, listening to me, preserving my independence, standing by my side, and choosing to stay with me.

Thank you for the times you went off on your own, and thank you for always returning.

Thanks to all for steering clear of me and my unpredictable rental chair. And standing between me and harms way, often putting your own bodies and toes at risk, to protect my body from oncoming traffic and other hazards.

I feel the pulse of Ner ShalomIn the leadership it required to ensure our safety: physical, psychological and spiritual.In the flexibility to change the itinerary when necessary In the strength to carry each other, and our belongings through steep and uneven terrain.In laboring together In states of contraction and expansion. Opening to other ways of seeingA sacred sacrifice of hate, suffering, violence and victimization, an in service to love. A love made palpable In our adamant insistence on it, and our willingness to lean on each other when things unraveled.

When one of us fell, we all did.When one was lost, we searched high and low until we found each other, again.

There were some of us living with recent loss, some experiencing unexpected loss, And many integrating and metabolizing longer term losses.

No matter our circumstances, it just took one hug, one song, one loving look, and the heartbeat of one man and his guitar to move us forward,

Our beloved, our Rabbi Irwin.

Dear Rabbi Irwin, I am grateful for your service and your thoughtful tending of our  group. We felt your Eros, decision making, translating and tour guiding abilities. We witnessed and benefited from your toughness and your nurturing.  Thank you for being our glue and for taking good care of us. Thank you for your framing and redirection and perspective taking.I thank you for the times you led the way, seemingly parting the seas of people and armies who stopped me in my tracks, with the wave of your hand in my crutch. I appreciate the times you stepped aside and let others lead. I am grateful for the many introductions to your teachers and friends.Thank you for repeatedly stopping in your tracks to attend to my physical, emotional and spiritual needs. Thank you for listening, championing my place on this expedition, and for trusting and preserving me. Thank you for letting me touch you. And thank you for really embracing me, seeing me, and holding me up. Thank you for being my shelter of peace. 

To you and our group and to all Ner Shalomers who held space for our journey:  I say thank you for taking on my many joys, challenges, and painful states and sharing them with me.Thank you for allowing yourselves to be moved and affected.Thank you for helping me calm down and thank you for receiving and reciprocating my love. 

As Adam and Stephanie, Jim D,  and others frequently exclaimed throughout the trip, “I like happy Jenny!”

And I’d like to think what you may have been noticing was a, “Not so very angry me,” and perhaps a more vulnerable me, even when things were difficult and felt unfair.

And, if Adam liked a happy, less angry me, In return, I reveled in sexy, vibrant, funny, helpful, attuned and “fix it” Adam. And I thank you for our sacred marriage and the time to fall more deeply in love. 

And we weren’t perfect, there were moments when we missed the mark.

As the group witnessed my challenges, I witnessed the groups challenges.

It was odd to feel lucky at times to be in the chair! Sometimes a Queen (as Toby would call me) and other times just a girl trying to get on and off the bus or into an art studio, bathroom a synagogue or a conservative rabbi’s house. 

I, at least had some padding under me and a place to sit out of the rubble.

As you fretted over me and the places I could not go, the many falls I almost had,  and the physical pain I was in.

I fretted over your fatigue and exhaustion compounded by heat, your lack of comfort and air conditioning and seating and bathrooms and the miles upon miles walked and the wrestling with steep and uneven terrain. And the inability at times to say, “Enough!”

But we were also beautiful in our wrestling AccountableAnd quick to respond,Problem solve and to forgive. A vitality evidenced in our Willingness to play And to heal.

And thank you all for supporting and encouraging my fashionista tendencies while trying to keep me safe from sunburn, and overexposure in general.

And this was the time of my life!

And, if anything, though being identified as “The most extroverted person many of you had ever met,”  as Ner Shalomers Lisa and Susan and others might say with love- 

I wonder if the group could ever know how challenging it was to reel myself in, because I saw God in everyone, everyday, all day long.

Even when there were no toilets, ramps, elevators or lattes to be found! Though my trip bestie, Kathy C almost always found me a latte! And found my heart!

Thank you to Ner Shalomers at home who followed our journey and accompanied us through the ups and downs. We felt you with us!

And I want to revel in this land we’ve found, in this old concert hall with every Ner Shalomer and friend of Ner Shalom, present and on Zoom.

So my prayer and my challenge to NS Israel 2023:

May we know that we did not have to go to Israel to find each other and connect deeply. 

What we felt there, we now have here. And the Ner Shalom community has been waiting for us to bring our love home. In our shared stories, the ones now in our bones.

May we be thoughtful about our interpretations and aware of our projections. May we be curious about our reactions and mindful of our speech. May we see each other clearly.

May we keep going as a community within community, using our shared experiences and learning to spread love throughout the land we’ve returned to, our Shul.

May we be a chavurah meeting regularly and consistently for Shabbat dinners and services and reunions in person and on zoom. 

May we continue choosing to be of service.

May we travel together again, finding ease in each other, Ner Shalom, and the world.

May we always be warm, 

May we be the light of peace.

Special thanks to organizers:Irwin, Rita, Stephanie and Sally

Tour Guides: Irwin, Yael and Samer

Friend, bus driver and lover of all people: Hatam.

Adam Brown and Jim DeMateo for the heavy lifting, and for being Mensches even when no one was looking.

My children and my patients for doing so well without me.

I grew up Orthodox and had been to Israel several times during those religious years. I lived in Jerusalem for a year and was part of a very very Orthodox community that made me feel part of, special and loved during my very difficult and tumultuous youth. During all of those visits, I felt that being in Israel was a peak spiritual experience. I had magical experiences in Jewish Jerusalem, singing and praying at the wall, walking through tunnels of water that were 1000’s of years old, where my ancestors had been. After my experience of traveling to Israel with Ner Shalom members and Mejdi, I realize that I did not have the full picture.

My parents, as holocaust survivors, found a home and sanctuary in Israel after suffering through the Shoah. Their experience and love for this place made Israel so important to me, as their daughter and as a Jew. The majority of survivors of my parents’ families’ went to Israel after the war and most stayed and settled there. Now there are 2 and 3 generations of my cousins that live there and are Israelis.

I still believe that Israel is a very holy and spiritual place, and would be the place that would take me in should something horrible happen again, but this land is not just for the Jews. This trip to Israel allowed me to open my eyes and heart to all the people who live there and who I used to believe were only my enemies.

I had grown up with the story of my parents and family coming off the boat from Europe and having to fight people who wanted to kill them. Lots of family photos of my mom and dad in Israeli Army uniforms. It made me feel proud of my parents, of my people. Unfortunately, I didn’t really understand the full story of the politics behind the world giving the Jews a place to go after the slaughter.

Before our trip we learned about the history of this land and how many different cultures had been there over the centuries and about the history of how the state of Israel became the state of Israel. I had not been aware of parts of what I was learning and I had to work hard at allowing myself to be open to this new and painful history I was learning.

During this trip I got to know different people who live in this land, not just my family and the orthodox community I once lived in. I met Christian, Muslim, Druze Arabs who were both religious and secular. I saw that even within my own family, I experienced and grieved the difference of unconditional acceptance between my own secular and religious family members. We visited the City of David where ultra-Orthodox Jews, like the ones I had lived with in 1980, are trying to buy up homes that were taken from our Palestinian brothers and sisters and call them part of Jewish Israel.

My experience of being in my sacred homeland with my Latina, Native American, non-Jewish wife opened me up even further to the tales of oppression she had told me about over our years together that had been experienced by her family and ancestors in our own country.

This trip helped me to better understand how some survivors of trauma can also become perpetrators of abuse. As a child of people who lost their homes and land because of who they were, I understand better, after meeting and getting to know Arab people, in a way I never had before, that I must also be sympathetic to the plight of the Palestinian people who have suffered the same. I know that I must continue to work towards breaking down walls I have, that were constructed through the hate and propaganda supported by extreme religion and governments.

This trip was an experience of a lifetime, it really broke me open in ways I could not have imagined. I was so fortunate to experience these events with my fellow Ner Shalomers who I connected to in very special ways.

I am so grateful to have participated in this tour and to the folks responsible to making it happen: Medji tour staff, tour guides, bus drivers, administrative staff. I especially want to say thank you to Sally, Stephanie, Rita, and Reb Irwin, who helped to create this incredible journey for and with us.

We’d like to share a bit about what it was like for the 24 of us on the first Ner Shalom trip to Israel. What it was like for us to be there and what it was like for us to be with each other. We want to tell you about it because it was a remarkable experience. The experience was dense and athletic. We were at it from early morning until late night every day without pauses for jet lag and only barely for Shabbat. 

This trip was the brain child of Stephanie Brown. She recruited Rita Rowan to plan it with her and when Rita couldn’t come with us she recruited Sally Churgel to be a group leader. It was a trip that was intended to happen in May 2020 but in May 2020 we were in lockdown and it took three years until we could travel in a way that felt free and safe enough enough to be able to enjoy and observe and experience. 

For some of the people on the trip it was nostalgic, returning to Israel after 30 or 40 years. For others it was a first time trip and a pilgrimage. For some people it wasn’t a pilgrimage until they got there. 

We knew we would be experiencing a lot and we did. This was a dual narrative tour and so we had a Jewish tour guide and a Palestinian tour guide. We visited places and talked to people that most Jewishly organized trips to Israel do not get to do. And so we experience a lot at the political and historical level.

We also consciously tried to make room to feel the Divine in this place. In the ancientness of it. In the who knows how many thousands of years of layers of spiritual endeavor that are stacked up in this place. And to feel the call of the Divine in the landscape, in the rock of the desert and the wind from the sea. To hear the Divine Voice that our prophets heard in the very same places.

We also knew and committed to the fact that a great deal of the journey was going to be a group journey, to learn who we are with each other. Grueling travel doesn’t always bring out the best in people but in this case largely it did. We tended, more often than not, to take care of each other, to watch out for each other, to encourage each other. at the center of this, in my opinion, was Jenny who had worked hard in training before we went so that she could handle some stairs on foot, which radically reduced the number of sites that were inaccessible to her. She worked hard this trip and her intrepidness inspired everyone else. Everyone, I think, felt stronger and more daring because they were watching her strength and daring every day.

And there was one other element of this trip that we want you to know. We were there representing this community. We knew that we were ambassadors. And we knew that we would be the recorders, the archivists, bringing this experience back to you. That is what we intend to do on this page. This is not meant to be “what I did over my summer vacation.“ It is our trying to give over to you some of the flavor over what we experienced so we can all hold it together.

We might do a trip like this again, maybe a few years down the road. Maybe we will fundraise for scholarships, since there were people who couldn’t afford to come, and there were people on the trip who really stretched themselves to do it. Maybe the next trip will be longer. It will be a different combination of people with a different energy and a different flavor. But we, as Ner Shalom, have now stepped well beyond our physical boundaries and brought some of our love and spirit and music to that complicated land. And we hope we will continue to be able to give our gifts wherever they are needed.

I was  touched deeply by listening to David Friedman speaking about his Kabbalah paintings in Tzfat! Some concepts he shared validated my beliefs and many I didn’t understand at all. This painting spoke to my life! I researched its meaning so that I might share it with others:

“Life is a dynamic process of balancing between hot and cold; activity and rest; nature and nurture. Balancing between what we keep private and what we share with others; and between many other complementary pairs of opposites. 

“The lower half of this picture shows the circular Root System of this Tree of Life. The 10 concentric Roots and the Seed relate to the tenth Sefirah, Kingship. It represents how our Nature is given to us from the past – our roots.  Nature is seen as ‘round’ or Feminine. The Root System is thus contained in Earth and is nourished by Water.

The upper half of this picture (showing the branches of this Tree of Life and its 9 Sefirot/Flowers that contain seeds) represents Choice or Nurture, seen as Masculine. Balanced choices help us Nurture our Nature and plant seeds that will grown into a better future. The 3 Flowers on its right side symbolize Wisdom, Kindness and Victory – all associated with Water. The 3 Flowers on its left side symbolize Understanding, Strength, and Majesty all associated with Fire. The 3 Flowers between them, symbolize Crown, Beauty and Foundation (the middle column of the Tree of Life Diagram) all associated with Air. They are yellow because yellow is the middle color of the rainbow, balanced between the hotter colors above and the colder colors below it. Also because the Hebrew word for Light, אור, is almost identical to the word for Air, אויר. The Flowers of this Tree of Life are fed by the Light that comes from the Fire of the sun.  This process of Photosynthesis transforms Light into Air.

The squares, triangles and circles that are the seeds in the Flowers, some of which have fallen into the Earth and have begun sprouting new Trees hint at the Mother Letters of Sefer Yetzirah - א מ ש - Aleph Mem and Shin.”

The memory that will always stand out for me took place in the Judaean Desert overlooking the Dead Sea, at Masada, where I ran into my old law school friend, Dale. We had not seen each other for at least 8 years and had lost contact with each other when Dale moved to Florida 5 years ago. I was totally shocked and very happy to see her. What a miracle!

As with any great adventure, things change. And one of the things that changes is the day’s plans. On that day we did not expect there to be some kerfuffling between the two sides throwing objects at each other and we had been hoping that things would be calm enough to go to the West Bank and visit both Bethlehem and Hebron.

But that morning we discovered that Hebron was just not going to be the place to visit. So our tour leaders and our planning group set down at breakfast – blessedly I slept through it – and decided on an alternative plan. We should go to a church in Bethlehem; we should go to a church that might not have 200 tour buses; we would go to a church where we might feel that we could pray – I am not sure if that was part of the thinking, but it sure turned out that way. And our tour guide Yael told Reb Irwin about this tiny little chapel called The Church of the Shepherds’ Field, supposedly where the angels announced to the shepherds the birth of Christ. It had been a holy site for centuries, with the current building built in the 1950s.

It was a building in the round. It was a building built to reflect the night sky. But during the day what it did was bathe everyone in light. It was a space in which Reb Irwin had been told people had been singing. So a mysterious guitar showed up on the bus that morning.

We had spent the earlier part of the morning at that Separation Wall and looked on the Israeli side which was plastered white, and looked at the Palestinian side which was “graffitied” from top to bottom – powerful, powerful graffiti images. It shook us. We had walked through the “Walled-Off Hotel” opposite the wall that had been turned into a museum exploring the effect of the Occupation, a museum that also had an art gallery of works by Palestinian artists. And so we were well tenderized by the time we got to that little chapel, that little church in the round.

As we walked in there was a group singing in the inner core. They were singing the Gloria in Excelsis, a hymn associated with that location, supposedly sung by the angels to the shepherds.

Many of us, because of our varied backgrounds and families, knew it well enough to sing or hum along. And Reb Irwin started to play chords on his guitar and many of us sang harmonies. When that group with their saffron-colored scarves – who were from China – left, we instinctively filled the central space and held hands. We held hands with Samer, our Palestinian tour guide, and we sang “where you go I will go beloved,” (based on the Book of Ruth, most of which also takes place right there). “And your people are my people, your divine, my divine.”

The tears were streaming. It was such a very powerful experience that when we met after we had returned, I think most of us said it had been a high point of the journey.

And we then sang, “Surrounded by the light,” a song that I got to know deep in my bones as Reb Irwin sang it to my beloved Mac and Mac sang it back to him. Those of us who were there felt a very deep sense of his presence with us.

When we finished singing, a stranger who had been standing in the alcove, came up and kneeled in front of me and said, “God bless you – and especially you.”

I have no words, but such amazing gratitude for the grace of that moment and the way it surrounded all of us with love.

***

What I did not get to say when I shared these words at our Shabbat service was my delight in the warmth of welcome we got wherever we went – the true middle eastern commitment to welcoming the stranger and inviting them into your heart and sharing hospitality, often over food. So much that I experienced touched my heart deeply. There was also the realization upon my return that so many of the people that we met – Jews and Arabs and Muslims and Lebanese and Druze and Palestinians – were seeking ways to find connections, to work together for peace, even in small ways. And in them I saw the glimmer of hope for the future in spite of the intransigence of those on the far right on both sides of the Israel/Palestine divide.

May some of those voices be heard and may we remember their resonance when times are fraught and seem beyond resolution. May they lift us from despair.

I wasn’t expecting to have a spiritual experience at the Western Wall. With the metal detectors and the separation wall between the male and female areas, I was already feeling agitated. The Wall was crowded. Several people deep and I was waiting my turn. The people in front of me weren’t moving, but I was able to maneuver and get my right hand on the wall. It felt cool and smooth. My whole life, I’ve heard stories about this place. The prayers. The notes. The wailing. I took it in. I’m really here. While surrounded by all women, I started thinking about my female ancestors. About ten years ago, my mother visited Israel. She touched this wall. My grandmother visited in 1980. She touched this wall too. 

However, my great grandmother never set foot in Israel. I started thinking about when was it that someone else in my matrilineal history was on this spot – was it thousands of years ago? How many generations was it from when we were Jews in ancient Judea to Jews in Russia to Jews in the US? I felt grateful for all of these generations of women keeping the Jewish faith alive, through serious hardships, and grateful that I was here to receive this faith and its gifts, with its blessings and challenges. I invited my mother and grandmother to be with me. I imagined all the generations of women joining me and I asked for their blessings. I felt their love and it brought me to tears.

Three Walls in the Land of the Broken Hearted

l. Western Wall - Jerusalem

Thousands of years old, smoothed
by countless caresses from those
beseeching the stone to carry
prayers wherever prayers go

Swifts sleep, eat, mate on the wing
lift and lilt above the plaza blithely
trespass the wall to become
illumined by the golden dome

The limestone retaining wall entices
the swifts and pilgrims to nestle
prayers and twigs into
its ancient crevices

A soundless propulsion of
divine love pours down the stone
into the hands of supplicants
flowing through wrists and arms

into hearts and out shoulder blades
like winging swifts, like angel wings
cleansing and conveying centuries of
prayers and grief to cloudless skies

ll. Separation Wall

Thirty-foot high walls of concrete,
hardened sand like Pharaoh’s heart,
snakes, a viperous barrier,
resentfully through the countryside

A prayer for separation from Otherness
On one side people; invisible, unprotected
On the other; their holocaust history of
decimation denied

Once, the freed Israelites trudged
round and round in circles
For 40 years they passed their grievances
through their tongues and genetics

round and round through the centuries
to the children of their children’s children
the ones who never forgave
Pharoah the 400 years of enslavement

Round and round to the Palestinians
who now captive behind 440 miles of walls
bake pita and love their children
who, too, pray to the God of Abraham

III. Interior Walls

Guard your hearts guardedly
lest you grow security gates
posting Do Not Enter signs
onto your wingless stuck prayers

Pray for forgiveness of the
endless circling
‘round the desert of hopelessness
and the dead sea of separation

Pray for courage to face your walls
Pray for cracked open hearts
yours and theirs
Pray for winged love to raze

the concrete walls for lush
gardens with low hedges, where
hands can reach across to share
pomegranates and figs

Sea of Galilee
Mangoes olives alfalfa
David’s kinneret

Dust became Adam
Eternal Divine Presence
Solomon’s temple

Judean Desert
Majestic mesa beauty
Siege of Masada

Victims victimize
Still, provocateurs provoke
Heart broken witness