Where the magic happens

I’m in the midst of the days of reflection, the period of time encompassing Rosh HaShanna (the Jewish New Year) and Yom Kippur (the Day of Atonement). Ya’mim Nora’im, the “Days of Awe” on the Jewish calendar.

Reflection is easy and also hard this year. The war and losses in Israel and Gaza, as well as the challenges facing communities in the West Bank rage on. Grief and disbelief continue on all sides. There are hostages whose lives and bodies have not returned home. There is enough – no, there is too much – sadness to go around.

And yet, I see glimmers of hope.

In mid-September, I traveled with the Friends of the Arava Institute on its Cultivating Hope Study Tour. In a fast-paced 7-day sprint, I engaged with Israelis and with Palestinians. We learned together. We asked each other questions. We broke bread and swapped recipes. We laughed and chit-chatted. We spoke about inconsequential issues and about consequential ones. As a 60-something-year-old retiree, I had the brief and remarkable chance to feel what it’s like to be a student at the Arava Institute.

At dinner one evening, we spoke with three former students. One, a Palestinian from Jaffa, told us that at age 18, he enrolled in the Arava Institute for a semester to further his career goals. He hadn’t been away from home before. He didn’t have a lot of expectations. When the semester began, he found himself in the middle of nowhere living and learning with Jewish Israelis.

It was in that communal setting, out in the Arava desert, that he experienced friendship with people from backgrounds and life stories different from his own.It was so meaningful to him that he stayed on for a second semester. He has maintained bonds with the friends he made during those semesters.

My notes of that evening are sparse. I was too engaged in conversation to record what I was hearing. But I found this in my journal entry from that night.

At dinnertime, we had the opportunity to meet with Arava Institute alumni. They all spoke about the brilliance of building communities where people think differently and yet appreciate being in relationship with one another. They learn together, they eat together, they live together, and they model coexistence. This was heartening to them and equally buoying to me as I felt their embrace of living together on one shared land. Just as we have been told by leaders of the Arava Institute, the work of the Institute is about environmental diplomacy, but the campus is where the magic happens. Ma nor’ah ha’Makom ha’Zeh. How awesome is this place. (Gen. 28:17)

Seven days were not enough. But such is life. I want more of the magic, the awe, the ease and the model and the reality of coexistence. Fortunately for students who are early in their journeys and who are wise enough to seize the moment and the opportunity, the magic is all there. Long may it radiate beyond all borders.