Scene & Heard
Scene & Heard
will never forget my first day in Israel when a group of teenagers pointed at my tallit and laughed. It was the summer of 1970, and, at age 15, I had realized my dream of volunteering on a kibbutz. Raised in an American home in which Conservative Judaism melded effortlessly with moderate Zionism, I never suspected that some Israelis would see contradictions between the two, or that I might someday be forced to choose between them.
The first song Ya\’akov Shimoni ever wrote was called, \”Genesis.\” The lyrics — in English, Hebrew and French — were about pollution, global warming, Mother Earth and the destruction of Israel\’s natural resources. It was 1997 — long before \”An Inconvenient Truth\” became a blockbuster and the green movement reached an unprecedented level of hipness.
Israel, girlfriend, what is your problem? Why all this hoopla and hype? Does the whole world have to know that you and I — hey, break out the Botox — are turning 60?
It is a proud and glorious week as Israel, her 7.2 million citizens and millions of friends around the world celebrate the 60th anniversary of Israel\’s birth as a modern, democratic nation.
Twelve years ago, newly arrived at the Reconstructionist Malibu Jewish Center, Rabbi Judith Halevy gave a sermon about her long-term commitment to Israel, about how much she cares about the Jewish state.
At its 60th anniversary, Israel needs a new vision that not only will guide its priorities and inform its actions, but also will be relevant to the lives of all Israelis.
To be an Israeli at the time of the state\’s 60th anniversary means to be resigned to living with insoluble emotional and political paradoxes. It means living with a growing fear of mortality, even as we celebrate our ability to outlive every threat. We are almost certainly the only nation that marks its Independence Day with an annual poll that invariably includes the question: \”Do you believe the country will still exist 50 years from now?\”