Birthright to Israel – Jacob Swartz

Delivered March 1, 2024:

In the past four months, it’s been tough feeling secure and supported as a Jewish person. Our social media feeds have been flooded with hate and negativity toward our heritage, Israel, and our fellowJews worldwide. I started to wonder if there was a way to make a positive difference as a Jew, especially during all this turmoil… However, everything changed the moment I found out that the Birthright trip I had signed up for before the October 7th attacks, had been rescheduled for January 2024. This trip was like finding a light in the darkness, a chance to rediscover my roots and further connect with my heritage.

Before stepping foot in the country for the first time, my mind was filled with anxiety and uncertainty, especially given the tense atmosphere. But as I stepped out of Ben Gurion airport and took a deep breathof the tropical Tel Aviv air, something magical happened. It was as though all the anxiety melted away in an instant. A wave of inexplicable warmth washed over me, and I knew, deep down, that I had finally found my place. It wasn’t just some destination; it truly felt like a second home.

Although I had felt this sudden relief after finally making it to Israel, I didn’t mistake this experiencefor a vacation. I had just arrived in a country that was fighting a war that they hadn’t started, and thetrauma and pain that coursed through every Israeli’s veins was something I had yet to fully understand. My original ten-day trip evolved into a month-long journey of immersion, education, volunteering, and celebration of Jewish life. Rather than describing a sort of broad explanation of my trip, I want to take you on a short journey, zooming in on experiences that brought a smile to my face, tears to my eyes, and the true meaning of what it is to be Jewish.

After touching down in Israel, we stepped onto a bus and headed north to a small town named Zikhron Ya’akov, about 30 minutes south of Haifa. It was considered one of the “safest” places for us to start our adventures as it had not received any shelter-in-place warnings throughout the war. About fiveminutes outside of the city center was Eden Inn, our home base for these first three days. Most of us were extremely tired from traveling, but because it was our first Friday night, we had plenty of Shabbat-related bonding activities scheduled to set the tone for the rest of the trip. It felt a bit strange being visitors somewhere that is in an active war, but we began to realize that certain issues were occurring within Israel’s borders that

 

hadn’t seemed to get much attention abroad. One that immediately became apparent was the largepopulation of Israelis from the Gaza Envelope, who have been displaced from their homes to different regions of the country, for their safety. We saw this firsthand with the Ethiopian Israeli families who had been assigned to stay in our hotel until it was time for them to return to their kibbutzim. However, their return home proved to be a dream in the unforeseen future. My group was the first outsiders they had seen in three months, and the struggles they faced after being uprooted from their normal lives, like manyother displaced Israelis, seemed to have been on the back burner compared to the other issues in and around the country.

Many of us exchanged smiles as we walked by them as we did not know how to properly communicate in either Hebrew or Amharic. In my mind, I could tell there were stories ready to be told, jokes to be cracked, and emotions to be shared, but the language barrier prevented those connections. However, I saw this as an opportunity to use a skill of mine that I use every day that requires no language whatsoever. Drawing. One morning, I woke up around seven and decided to journal before breakfast, so I wandered into the central courtyard of the hotel.

When I sat down, about eight of the kids swarmed me to see what I was up to. With some very basic exchanges of Hebrew, I began to draw these simple yet abstract drawings for each of them. Their eyeswidened as I drew each line. The circles, dots, and dashes became boats, lions, fish, and surfers on each little page. Within a few minutes, each of them had a personal doodle that put a smile on their face, and I could see their minds wandering with curiosity. This was just a small act of creative communication that would last longer than any exchange of words. Each drawing that they now had was a story of kindness and creativity that somehow made it into their hands from some random Jewish kid from New Jersey staying in the same hotel as them. Spending time doodling and connecting with these kids was a simplegesture of kindness. Although, it seemed like a sort of mitzvah that just occurred naturally.

As I continued my journey through Israel in the weeks that followed, I began to realize the potential in every moment to continue these acts of generosity. It became clear that the unconditional kindness Iwitnessed around me, was deeply connected to the concept of Tikkun Olam, the idea of repairing and improving the world around us. But this philosophy is no easy task to achieve, especially now when soldiers are defending the country from terrorists who

 

want to strip away any of Israel’s sentiments of peace. The perpetual cycle of attacks, defense, judgment, and rebuilding comes with a heavy cost. This is the toll on the Israelis who have friends and family, whohave been injured or killed in terror attacks or battles. The trauma that ensues during and after situations like these affects them deeply to the core. But somehow, they are expected to be resilient, push through, and go about their day working their 9-5s and caring for their families.

When we visited Mount Herzl cemetery in Jerusalem, the sky was dark, the rain was coming down in sheets, and the wind chilled us to the bone. As we gathered around the graves of soldiers whom ourIsraelis knew personally, I saw the tears begin to pour out of their eyes, as they told their stories. By no means should any person lose their life at the expense of war, but this is a sad reality that affects Israel deeper than most of us may realize. However, as I pulled Itay, Michal, Ofek, and Shani in close after each shared their story, it occurred to me that if all I could give back to them was some form of unconditional love, kindness, and understanding from that point on, then the rebuilding of the world around them had already started. Tikkun Olam doesn’t have one specific meaning or action. Instead, I see it as a sort of feeling that adapts to every situation that you are in.

My trip to Israel began with a feeling of numbness and awe. However, it didn’t take long to become accustomed to the country, its people, and the very familiar culture. Every encounter became a mosaic, reflecting our shared heritage and the richness of our collective experiences as Jewish people. At times, we may feel overwhelmed by those who wish pain and suffering upon us; although, the most important thing that you can do, is find ways to spread light to others which could be as simple as a doodle or a hug.

Shabbat Shalom