by Larry Kaufman

Almost two years ago, I asked the readers of this blog to advise me on what to see on a fifth trip to Israel. As it happened, the trip we were then planning didn't happen until just now, and turned out to be built around the World Zionist Congress instead of around the World Union for Progressive Judaism's Connections 2009 biennial.  (Side note:  we - and you - have another crack at a WUPJ Connections this coming February in San Francisco.) 

As I explained in that earlier post, on our four previous trips we had seen the obligatory tourist sites along with enjoying a variety of off-the-beaten track adventures. I asked what was worth going back to because it had changed since last we were there (for example, we've seen three different incarnations of Yad VaShem) or what had materialized since our 2007 visit (when, for example, the very worthwhile Menachem Begin Museum was relatively new).  Although we got some very good advice at that time, we ended up on this trip doing different things from those suggested then or that were on our tentative 2009 itinerary. 

Some of those things - like shopping on Ben Yehuda Street in Jerusalem or in the Carmel Market in Tel Aviv - had been available on previous trips, we just hadn't done them. Some, like the indoor playground built by the Jewish National Fund to give the children of Sderot a safe place to play away from Gazan rockets, had come into being since 2007. And some were things we couldn't have done on our own, but were privileged to do because we were part of the Reform Leadership Mission that followed the Congress.   

One such highlight was our visit to a public school in south Tel Aviv/Jaffa where Arab and Jewish children learn together (and thus learn to live together).  I've already described this in a comment on another post and it was also the subject of a post a week or so ago by my fellow traveler Rabbi Danny Allen of ARZA. 

Another highlight was the opportunity to visit with members of the pre-army Mechina operated by the Israel Movement for Progressive Judaism, which gives Israeli young people a gap-year grounding not only in the idea that there are many ways to be Jewish, even in Israel, but that the best way includes a healthy commitment to tikkun olam. Another privilege was to attend a dedication ceremony for a soon-to-be-built  Mechina building, enabled by a major contribution from the URJ's Senior Vice President Rabbi Daniel Freelander and his brother in memory of their mother. 

We had hoped to be able to visit the Israel Museum, but learned that most of it has been closed for renovations (it should be open by now), nor were we able to make the trek to Caesarea to the highly recommended Ralli Museum of Latin-American Art. But we did get to see the remarkable Impressionist collection at the Tel Aviv Art Museum, and also the eclectic potpourri at the very personal Ilana Goor Museum in Jaffa -  displaying both the works she has created and those she has collected, in a restored Mediterranean palazzo (on whose rooftop overlooking the sea we also had our Shabbat morning services).

One of the take-aways from any visit to Israel is the study in contrasts. Juxtapose the Jerusalem buildings in golden stone with the white Bauhaus stucco of Tel Aviv, and then with its glass and steel skyscrapers. Savor a lunch of Middle Eastern salads with hummus and pita, followed by dinner in an American style steakhouse. One day  the fruits and vegetables and bakery goods of the shuk, the next the gold and diamond jewelry of the Mamilla Mall.  One Friday the enthusiastic sabra voices singing the familiar tunes of Kabbalat Shabbat, accompanied on the harmonium, in a dance studio turned into an ad hoc synagogue; the next Friday, the polished tones of the Israel Philharmonic, accompanying Emanuel Ax in a Chopin piano concerto in the elegant Mann Auditorium. Perhaps most important, contrast the growing impatience of Israeli seculars with special privileges for the ultra-Orthodox with the growing awareness and acceptance of the Progressive movement and its dynamic  approach to a non-repressive, 21st century Judaism.   

One constant related to all of our trips to Israel has been the questions both before and after (from people who have never been there) about our safety. On this trip, we had no qualms about visiting the Old City, which we had avoided in 2002 and 2007; at no point did we have to transfer from a standard bus to an armor-plated vehicle, nor welcome "security" aboard; nor were we "frisked" for weapons as we went into restaurants on Emek Refaim that had frisked us on our previous trips. Even Sderot is quiet, although we were reminded there that the indoor playground was designed around a 15-second warning - stop what you're doing, you have 15 seconds to get into the shelter. People go about their business, tourists abound, traffic flows through the checkpoints - and the absence of peace doesn't intrude on the normalcy of day-to-day life.    

I will always remember the prophetic introductory remarks of Mickey, our guide on our first trip to Israel 35 years ago: You come to Israel as a tourist, but you will leave as a pilgrim. On subsequent trips, our focus was neither tourism nor pilgrimage, although both elements were present - we had come for meetings, attending to the business of the Jewish people.   And this trip had elements of all three - but the residual feeling this time was different.  Although we no longer have relatives there, we came home with a sense that we had been visiting family.  Recent advertisements from the Israel Tourist Office have featured the tag line, No one belongs here more than you. Cynical though I may be about advertising slogans - after all, I wrote them for many decades - this one captures an essential truth.  I hope you'll soon follow in my footsteps - and share my reaction.  No one belongs here more than you.

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