Inspiration from Zion: Walk in the Land of Israel

Wisdom is knowing what we don’t know. When I made Aliyah I discovered that although I am Jewish and was raised in a Zionist household, I knew nothing about Israel.

Nothing. That was a painful discovery.

I was 13 and the culture shock was enormous. It took me years to reorient myself and be able to articulate what I didn’t know or understand and why it matters.

I was raised in a Zionist household. We weren’t religious but we observed Jewish holidays. Or so I thought. I attended a Jewish school and Jewish after-school daycare and even so – I knew nothing about Israel.

I don’t remember Israel ever being mentioned in my school. I thought I knew Hebrew (after moving here I discovered I didn’t). I knew what I thought were the basics about the Jewish holidays, but no one had ever pointed out the intrinsic link to the Land and to the fight for freedom and sovereignty. The most Zionist holidays either weren’t ever mentioned (like Shavuot or Tu B’shvat) or the elements of Zionism in them were simply ignored (like with Hannukah).

I knew we were different, but I didn’t really understand what that meant. Reverence for books and education was the air I breathed. I knew about the hate. I knew my grandmother was a fighter for Israel. And with all that – no one ever told me that the pillars of Jewish identity are the connection to our People, our Land, and the Torah. As secular Jews, our connection to the Torah was tenuous. We were connected to other Jews in our area but not in a way that was much different from other friends. You celebrate holidays with these, you do other things with those. And our Land? I had absolutely no clue.

Going to an Israeli school as an American ignoramus was difficult. Class trips were a big issue. Everyone seemed to love them. What was instinctive to my classmates was incomprehensible to me. We didn’t go on a trip to a museum or some similar location. We got on a bus, drove someplace, got out, and – walked. It seemed pointless to me. Why walk for hours, up and down hills, just to get back to the bus? That’s where we started off from so… why?

In his song “Get up and walk the Land” Yoram Taharlev articulates why – something every Israeli seems to know on a non-verbal, instinctive level and I, in a terrible disconnect from our heritage, did not.

Taharlev, an astoundingly prolific writer, articulated the primal truths of what it means to be part of the greatest love story ever documented – the love story between this Land and her People, between the People and our Land. That’s why his writings have become Israeli classics. We tend to think of classics as old cultural works, but they do not become classics by being old, they grow old by being profound, by conveying messages that are valuable and worth passing on.

That’s why it is worth studying his words. They can fill the hole in the Jewish soul that does not understand the full meaning of who we are.

In this song, Taharlev instructs us to walk in the land, put ourselves in the tools of hiking (backpack and stick), and let the paths of the Land embrace us. Walking is a way to physically reintroduce ourselves to the land that gave birth to our People. A way to remember that all the splendid buildings were built on top of a very old dream that is still there. It is also a way to remember that the places we walked as soldiers are full of children and homes, beauty, and life (which is exactly the reason why we were soldiers, to make those things possible).

Walking in the land is a way to connect with this unique entity that gave us our identity, that gave us a home, and is always ready to embrace us. Getting up and walking in the land is a way to remember the dream that ties the Nation of Israel to the Land of Israel.

THAT is the point.

Below is my translation of his song. I wish he was still with us so I could ask him about the nuances in his choices of language. May my words give justice to his.

{Reposted from the Inspiration from Zion blog}