Reflections on the trip by Elizabeth Souza

I am still savoring and reflecting upon the many experiences I had on my recent trip to Israel, having returned just last week. It’s difficult to isolate the most meaningful, given the plethora of talks and tours our JCA group was privileged to have during a jam-packed nine days. That said, I will try…

Our first three days in Tel Aviv introduced me to a bustling, modern city celebrating its centenary this year. Though I wouldn’t characterize it as a pretty city, its long, beautiful beach struck me as so much a part of its identity, yet not in a Miami Beach way. In Tel Aviv, it wasn’t just tourists filling the beach mid-day; folks seemed to take time off from work to spend time there, old and young alike playing serious games of paddle ball along the shore.
While there, we met Eran Baruch of Bina, located in the city’s impoverished southern district, and learned of that secular organization’s attempts to study the Talmud and apply its teachings to a social justice agenda. I was struck by parallels to Christian liberation theology in Latin America, and suspect Bina encounters similar stresses to Orthodox Judaism as LT has to Catholic orthodoxy.

One of the highlights of our stay was the walk through old Jaffa guided by two young Israeli men, one Arab, the other Jew. It was a rare opportunity to learn the different narratives two people brought to historical events, evoking Rashomon comparisons wherein each person has a distinct account of the same occurrence. That tour sparked my deeper comprehension of the challenges Israel and its neighbors confront as they struggle toward rapprochement.

That, more than anything else, was the greatest lesson I learned from this trip. Whether listening to social historian Paul Liptz discussing the class structure of contemporary Israeli society, dining with Moshe Ma’oz and animatedly discussing politics, discussing current affairs with author Hillel Halkin, or driving by the Security Barrier en route Jerusalem, I could not escape the ways in which securing peace remains an ever present concern and challenge. (Paradoxically, scholar Daniel Rossing of Jerusalem’s Center for Jewish-Christian relations offered as one model the uneasy balance of power among six different Christian religions occupying the Church of the Holy Sepulcher.)

Yet I was also struck by the vibrance and energy of the country. How could I not be? Jerusalem’s stew of religions, in that golden, ancient setting, was a vivid contrast to Tel Aviv’s austere and secular modernity. The collision of religions could not be escaped, and our itinerary brought us into direct contact with diverse factions, from a fiery Syrian Catholic modern day mystic to a benevolent Sufi sheikh.

The arts, as we learned through meetings with authors and visual artists, trips to museums and film centers, are thriving. Young soldiers, males and females, are ever present. Families were everywhere, young boys’ peyos clearly following their religious fathers’ models. One tiny drama queen, three years old at most, threw herself face down on the floor, sobbing, when her orthodox father disappeared behind a door to the hotel’s kitchen. Her darling older sister tried to lift her up and wordlessly console her, the tot instantly comforted when her father returned and scooped her up. This country will not be held back. Life goes on.