Union Leaders Visit Israel

“Am Yisrael Chai—The People of Israel Lives” projected onto a building in Jerusalem. Photo courtesy of Michael Kashdan

During this time of trial for Israel, leaders in the UMJC are showing solidarity by visiting in person. Executive Director Dr. Jeffrey Seif and his wife, Barri Cae, recently returned from Israel, as did UMJC Rabbi Michael Kashdan. Jeff Seif’s brief report is below, followed by a longer account by Rabbi Kashdan.

Barri and I just returned home from a whirlwind trip to Israel. During that time, we, among other things, visited a variety of Messianic leaders who received financial support from the UMJC. Though this is neither the time nor the place to go into all the details, with our good friend Martha Stern, her son Daniel, and others, we also visited the front lines in Gaza and distributed much-needed supplies—goods purchased, in part, by the monies you’d sent.

Over 300,000 young soldiers were called up immediately after October 7, given coordinates, and told to meet at a specific place and a specific time. Complicated as all that was, it turned out getting them supplies was harder still. The nation was unprepared. Israel didn’t have—and still doesn’t have—supplies of helmets, beds, and necessities to handle such an enormous and immediate influx. We joined an army of volunteers stepping into the gap during this state of emergency and providing those supplies.

I don’t need to say how extremely difficult these last few months have been. I know you know it; I know you feel it. I feel I do need to remind everyone, however, that the need for each other at a time like this simply cannot be overstated! Thank you for caring and sharing.

Dr. Jeffrey L. Seif, Executive Director

Jeff and Barri Cae Seif (left) with Martha Stern (center) and friends in the south of Israel.

Report by Rabbi Michael Kashdan

Many years ago, one of my rabbis was approached by a congregant (who already had children) about the possibility of having more. He did not attempt to instruct the woman authoritatively about enlarging her family, but he made the point that if she and her husband waited until it was the ideal time to have more children, they would probably never have more children. While such counsel may not be one hundred percent applicable under all circumstances, it does apply to the issue of going to Eretz-Yisrael – whether permanently or for a visit.

On my first visit to the Land, I was more than twice as old as my son had been at the time of his third trip. If I had been so inclined, I could have rationalized not ever going. After all, my son’s visits seemed logical: the occasion of his school’s eleventh-grade trip to Poland (principally to visit Auschwitz) and Israel; his free Israel trip with the Birthright organization; and joining his wife’s family to visit relatives who immigrated to Israel after the fall of the Soviet Union. Although I had wanted to visit Israel for decades, no such seemingly natural opportunity had arisen. I could always rationalize my not having gone to Israel with issues of expense, inconvenience, and potential physical danger. Of course, I could rationalize avoiding almost any trip with such reasons as well. When I finally accepted that visiting Israel might be worth seriously exploring, unexpected circumstances arose that made it, if not convenient, at least more realistic than I had previously thought it would be.

My last trip to Israel had been during what for me – a person who does not enjoy hot weather – was an oppressive summer month of June 2022, and the prospect of being in the Land during cooler times held definite appeal. I set my sights on my Winter break (from teaching) of 2023. The unfortunate development of a foot ulcer during the previous June actually facilitated my trip to Israel. If I had not had the podiatric concern, I almost certainly would have planned my trip months earlier with a more inexpensive airline than the Israeli national carrier. But since I had to postpone my plans until my doctor approved a trip, I could not make flight reservations until after the October 7 pogroms in southern Israel, when the international airlines were not flying to Israel. If I had made reservations with a non-Israeli airline, I would have had to cancel my plans. Call it what you like – providence, dumb luck, etc. – but circumstances fell into place to make my trip a reality.

A logistical door had opened despite the war, but whether it was a good idea to visit was another matter. One of the factors that led to my decision to go was that, while some American friends advised me not to go, none of my Israeli acquaintances whom I contacted discouraged my visit. Another factor related to helping people during trying times. Fair-weather friends are good, but foul-weather friends are especially precious. A relative of mine who is a physician volunteered to serve at one of the Israeli hospitals and has been there for several months – away from his family in an affluent section of southern California. In addition, during my visit to an Israeli Messianic synagogue, I met an American who had volunteered to work with a service organization aiding the Israel Defense Forces. My taking a vacation in Israel certainly did not measure up to these servants, but it was an opportunity to support Israel in person and to encourage these men with servant hearts.

When I informed my doctor relative that I would be visiting, he told me that most Israelis either had loved ones who were victims of the October 7 attacks or at least knew a relative of victims. I was not surprised by the clear determination of Israelis to live their lives in as normal a manner as possible, despite the war, but it was still impressive to witness. An Israeli acquaintance whom I had contacted before finalizing my travel plans told me that in Jerusalem one almost wouldn’t know that a war was going on and – other than the ever-present “bring them home now posters” of hostages in Gaza – that was true. One of my tour guides had a daughter stationed in Gaza and has suffered the economic consequences of drastically reduced tourism, but he would not let the trauma unleashed on the nation by the murderous attacks of October 7 define his daily existence. Like the merchants in the souk of the Old City and the shops in Jerusalem’s city center, they demonstrated a determination to not let Hamas dictate how they would live their lives. Our most common toast is “L’chaim” and Israelis showed a commitment to respond to terrorists’ culture of death by continuing to observe a culture of life. This was a powerful lifestyle testimony.

I arranged for day tours with specific guides on four of the nine days that I was in Israel. These tours included Jerusalem’s Old City, Khevron (or Hebron), Kidron Valley, Qumran, Masada, and the Dead Sea. Since our visit to Khevron included only eight tourists, renting a coach bus was out of the question. Instead, we caught the commuter bus that Israelis regularly take from Jerusalem to Khevron. Jerusalem is an urban center of Jewish life. Khevron, on the other hand, is a city deep within the disputed territories of the “West Bank.” In that city, Jews have been a small minority since the Khevron massacre of 1929, yet a Jewish community is committed to living in the city that includes the land which was the first parcel of the “promised land” of which Avraham took possession. Most notably it includes Me’arat haMachpelah, the burial cave of the patriarchs and their wives, as well as the impressive structure built over the graves by Herod the Great.

Jewish-Muslim hostility at the site has not been limited to the 1929 pogrom. Most notably, during Purim/Ramadan 1994, Dr. Baruch Goldstein took it upon himself to murder 29 (and wound over 100) praying Muslims at Machpelah, with many more Muslim and Jewish casualties in subsequent riots. Since then, the site has been divided into Jewish and Muslim sections. The guide pointed out bulletproof glass next to the cenotaph of Avraham that prevents shooting from the Muslim side to the Jewish side, or vice versa. The small crowds and heavy security resulted in a relatively quiet atmosphere, except for a loudly braying donkey at the petting zoo. While I was waiting for the bus back to Jerusalem, a friendly Israeli soldier reminded me not to wander off and end up in a spot where I could theoretically be a target from the Arab section. Things seemed quite peaceful, but there was always a sense of alertness from the security forces.

One of the day tours included neighborhoods in and around Jerusalem’s Old City from which Jews had been expelled in the wake of the Khevron massacre of 1929 and again during the 1948 War of Independence. Poor Jews are being helped (by private assistance) to live and study Torah there. These residents and students (some commute) are not wealthy but are willing to live in these areas alongside Muslims and Christians rather than in more prosperous neighborhoods and suburbs. These people are living out the convictions of their faith. The people facilitating this community have sometimes faced hostility from the Greek Orthodox Church for arranging Jewish life in the shadow of the Holy Sepulcher and the Mosque of Omar – as if it’s fine for Christians and Muslims to reside there, but not Jews. In addition, Arabs who sell property to Jews are sometimes liable to death from fellow Palestinians for this “offense.” In fairness, I should emphasize that this flowering of Jewish life in a part of the holy city from which they had once been excluded would have been much harder without the cooperation of some church authorities. One patriarch who permitted the sale of properties to Jews was subsequently deposed from his position. In addition, we were given friendly greetings from the non-Jewish residents of the Christian Quarter.

Years ago, when my son returned from his high school Israel trip, one of the things that stood out to him about the Land was the normalcy of being Jewish there, which is not so prevalent in most of the Galut. Regarding transportation from the airport to my hotel, I decided to skip the shuttle and instead take the commuter train and the Jerusalem Light Rail. Also, during my time in Israel, I chose to walk, or take a bus, when such was a realistic option, which saved me money and provided an opportunity to live and walk with our people as they went about their daily lives. While privacy has its place, being part of the crowd can also be quite healthy. It may be apopular expression these days to exhort others to step out of their comfort zones, but doing so can be an educating and rewarding experience, physically, mentally, communally, and spiritually.

Life in the Galut can be stressful, with educational and job deadlines, family concerns, making ends meet, and all the other things that we have to deal with in these trying times, but returning to the land of our fathers – even if only for a few days – to spend time with our fellow landsmen who have committed their lives to bear what might be a quite stressful yoke indeed, can help recharge our batteries.