I cannot adequately express how privileged I felt for having had the opportunity to travel to Israel several weeks ago with a Solidarity Mission of American and Canadian Cantors.
Although I was visiting as a part of this group, the real reason for my wanting to be in Israel at this time was personal. I needed to seek solace in the spiritual home of my ancestors. I needed to walk the streets of Jerusalem and breathe the air, and I desperately wanted to pray in the synagogues of Jerusalem and recite Kaddish for my father at the Western Wall.
It is true that this is a difficult and dangerous time for the state of Israel and many are not traveling there; but what Israel has done for me is far more than I can ever do for her.
Our group consisted of approximately 70 cantors and 15 non-cantors. The cantors were members of the Cantors Assembly and the American Conference of Cantors, respective arms of the Conservative and Reform movements in North America. The 15 or so non-cantors were lay members of various congregations — brave souls who can actually tolerate being around so many cantors for a week.
We all arrived safely from various points and on various airlines. We all returned safely, and the members of the mission reported that they never felt in any more jeopardy than travelers do during more sane times.
Since my return, people have asked me if I felt safe while in Israel. My qualified answer is yes. Life seemed normal, people were out and about, shops, schools, stores and restaurants were open, albeit minus large numbers of tourists. Vehicular traffic was — well, kind of nuts.
But there existed an underlying unease and discomfort among native Israelis and tourists alike. Life in Israel is not like life in the United States, even after 9/11.
Abundant music
Most of our group traveled to Israel on Nov. 17. On the preceding Friday we received news of a devastating attack on Shabbat evening worshippers and the soldiers escorting them from services in Hebron.
On the final day of our official mission, Nov. 22, a Palestinian suicide bomber boarded a Jerusalem bus and exploded his shrapnel-packed explosive belt, killing 11 people and wounding 48 others.
Ironically our group of cantors was scheduled to visit the Shaare Tzedek and Hadassah hospitals to meet with victims of terrorism recuperating from previous attacks. Our itinerary was not changed and when we visited these hospitals, we saw and heard much more than we had anticipated.
This is one side of reality in Israel, but simultaneously there are many others. Shaare Tzedek officials said that as they were caring for wounded victims of terrorism in August 2002, there were hundreds of births during the same month on the ninth floor.
The three most common billboards that I saw along the roads told people to clean up after their dogs, advertised the new Harry Potter movie and promoted a campaign against domestic violence. In the midst of all kinds of security concerns, Jerusalem is constructing a light rail system. We traveled from Jerusalem to K’far Saba on the recently completed “Trans Israel Highway.”
And music — Israel has so much music of every kind. We toured the magnificently equipped opera house in Tel Aviv. We traveled to the city of Ma’ale Adumin to a music conservatory of 230 students, and were treated to a complete concert by a teen band. The cantors donated to the school two dozen instruments.
The Israeli television stations are filled with programs of music, hour-long shows of oldie Israeli songs, classical shows, rock shows, Ethiopian, Russian, Yemenite and Moroccan music.
We presented two concerts, one in Jerusalem at the Conservative synagogue on Agron Street and one in the town of Gilo at the community center. Both concerts were packed and both were filmed by the Israeli Government Tourist Office.
We spent a very emotional morning in K’far Saba visiting special needs children who participate in Operation Mazal Tov, a project that works with about 40 schools in Israel to help teach the children about prayers and doing mitzvot, and preparing them for bar or bat mitzvah. The Cantors Assembly is a co-sponsor of the program, the conclusion of which leads to a bar or bat mitzvah ceremony at a synagogue of the family’s choosing.
We met with last year’s b’nai mitzvah students and this year’s group. The older children presented their Torah scroll to the new class. It was like Simchat Torah, with singing, dancing, tossing candy and a parade from the synagogue back to the school.
I remained in Israel for two days after our mission to spend Shabbat there. To my delight, the relatively empty hotel in which we stayed began filling with guests.
These people were not tourists, but Israelis who had come to Jerusalem to spend Shabbat. I later was told that this occurs every Shabbat and in most of Jerusalem’s hotels.
A friend and I went to pray in the Great Synagogue on Friday night. As the services progressed and we concluded singing “L’Cha Dodi,” a group of about 25 soldiers, all new recruits, entered the synagogue.
Some of these 18-year-olds, rifles slung across their soldiers, looked into the prayer books with obvious familiarity and some with utter confusion. Only in Israel is going to services part of one’s basic training.
Everyone we spoke with — from officials to ordinary citizens — was determined that life will go on. Terror will not win, and someday peace will be achieved. There is a spirit in Israel that will not be defeated.
Cantor Jerome Berkowitz is on the staff of Beth El Ner Tamid Synagogue.
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