Rabbis' Log Guatemala: Final post

When we left you last, we had spent a day touring the historic city of Antigua by foot and another day learning about the coffee farming community just outside of the city. Since then, in our final few days in Antigua, we hiked the volcano Pacaya (one of 37 volcanoes in Guatemala), visited an organic farming community that farms vegetables, bread, beautiful animals, and a butterfly garden, and participated in a reflective Shabbat service with our traveling companions and a special homemade Shabbat dinner by our hosts, David and Bethany Boran.

Each of these experiences was special and illuminating as we continued to reflect on the connection between what we have been experiencing in Guatemala and what we appreciate about Judaism. Judaism teaches us to look for holiness not only in familiar places, but wherever human beings are living with intention, memory, and care for one another. Sometimes, stepping outside our own community sharpens our understanding of what we hold sacred within it. So again, we thank you for supporting this sabbatical time for us as your rabbis.

Spending time immersed in the culture of Guatemala offers such a moment. While Guatemala and Judaism emerge from very different histories and geographies, the echoes between them are striking. Beneath the vibrant colors, ancient customs, and communal rhythms of Guatemalan life are values deeply familiar to Jewish tradition: memory, ritual, resilience, and community.

Memory sits at the center of Jewish life. We are commanded to remember—zachor—not only as an act of history, but as a moral and spiritual practice. As the Torah teaches, “Remember the days of old; consider the years of ages past” (Deut. 32:7). Memory in Judaism is meant to guide how we live now.

Guatemalan culture, particularly within indigenous Mayan communities, is also shaped by collective memory. Traditions are preserved through storytelling, ceremony, language, and art, even in the face of centuries of oppression and attempted erasure. Like Judaism, Guatemalan culture teaches that remembering is a way of surviving—and of honoring those who came before.

Judaism sanctifies time. Shabbat arrives each week as an island of holiness, reminding us to pause, to gather, and to reconnect with what matters most. The rabbis taught that more than the Jewish people have kept Shabbat, Shabbat has kept the Jewish people (Ahad HaAm)—a reminder that ritual sustains identity across generations.

In Guatemala, time is also marked with intention. Community rituals, religious festivals, and earth-honoring ceremonies create a rhythm that connects people to one another and to something larger than themselves. While the expressions differ, the impulse feels deeply Jewish: to slow down, to notice, and to live with awareness of the sacred.

Judaism imbues physical objects with spiritual meaning. A tallit is not simply a garment, but a reminder of mitzvot and responsibility. The tzitzit are meant to help us “remember all the commandments and do them” (Numbers 15:39).

Similarly, traditional Guatemalan textiles—especially huipiles—are rich with symbolism. Patterns and colors communicate identity, ancestry, and worldview. These garments tell stories, much like Jewish ritual objects do, reminding us that what we create and wear can carry holiness.

Jewish life is communal by design. We pray together, celebrate together, and mourn together. Many of our most sacred moments require a minyan, affirming the rabbinic insight that “All of Israel is responsible for one another” (Kol Yisrael arevim zeh bazeh). Guatemalan culture reflects this same understanding. Daily life is deeply communal, rooted in shared responsibility and mutual care. This emphasis on collective life resonates strongly with Jewish values, especially at a time when individualism can so easily pull us apart.

Both Jewish history and Guatemalan history include profound suffering. And yet, neither culture is defined solely by trauma. The prophet Isaiah speaks of a people who are “not destroyed” but renewed again and again—a vision that has sustained Jewish hope across centuries. Judaism blesses life—l’chaim—even after devastation. Guatemalan culture does the same through color, music, ritual, and an enduring connection to the land. In both traditions, survival is not only endurance, but renewal.

Encountering Guatemalan culture through a Jewish lens is not about drawing perfect parallels, but about deepening our appreciation for our own values. It reminds us that Judaism’s emphasis on memory, ritual, and community is not abstract—it is profoundly human. When we recognize holiness reflected in other cultures, we often come back to our own tradition with fresh eyes and renewed gratitude. In that sense, Guatemala becomes not just a place on the map, but a mirror—helping us see Judaism’s wisdom, beauty, and relevance more clearly. So once again, thank you for this time.

A closing blessing:

May our encounters with cultures beyond our own deepen our gratitude for the wisdom of our tradition.
May memory guide us, ritual ground us, and community sustain us.
And may we continue to recognize the image of God—in one another, in inherited traditions, and in the shared human longing for meaning and connection.
Ken yehi ratzon.

Rabbis' Log From Guatemala: Day 2

We set off early this morning for the neighboring town of San Miguel de Escobar. There, we met Manuel and Angela. Manuel is a coffee farmer. Angela is our interpreter since Manuel does not speak English and many of us don’t speak Spanish. Manuel works for a cooperative of coffee growers in San Miguel de Escobar and also with De La Gente, which is a coffee NGO (non-governmental organization). The Guatemalan government supports the coffee farmers throughout Guatemala in a variety of regions as a way to invest in the overall economy of the country - it lifts all people through a domino effect. 

Coffee is a massive global industry valued at over $460 billion in 2020. Over 90% of the world’s coffee is produced in developing countries, while the majority of consumption takes place in developed, industrial countries, a reality fueled by normalized exploitative practices. The conventional global supply chain allows for coffee to be a commodity of enjoyment, daily ritual, and community for billions of drinkers around the world, while too often it is a source of economic precarity for those who cultivate it.

Coffee has played a major role in Guatemala’s economy since the late 1800s, serving as the backbone of the country’s GDP for nearly a century. While Guatemala’s economy is more diversified today, coffee remains one of the top exports by value. Within Guatemala, there are approximately 125,000 coffee farmers, 97% of whom are small-scale producers that account for nearly 45% of the country’s production. Large-scale plantations, which represent only 3% of Guatemala’s farmers, are producing more than half of the coffee in the country. Small-scale producers, like Manuel and the cooperative he is a part of (keep reading), despite intergenerational experience and expertise in the industry, continue to be more susceptible to price fluctuations, climate change, and exploitative supply chains.

In 2005, Franklin Voorhes was volunteering in Guatemala when he met coffee farmers from the town of San Miguel Escobar who were organizing to make cultivating coffee a sustainable livelihood. Franklin was intrigued and inspired by their vision and wanted to be part of helping them improve their quality of life as small-scale producers. Together with seven coffee producers, they started processing their coffee and looking for markets for high-quality green and roasted coffee. Out of that partnership and many subsequent discussions and experiments, an organization called (at the time) As Green As It Gets emerged, and the cooperative is now known as the Coffee Growers of San Miguel Escobar. 

They worked collaboratively for several years, improving the quality of farmers’ coffee by exploring various processing techniques while simultaneously systematizing and structuring the cooperative. Over time, they wanted to educate and create awareness among tourists arriving in Antigua about coffee production, so they developed a tour where small-scale coffee producers would share their expertise, culture, and hopes for the industry with visitors. Tourism has since evolved into a thriving element of their work.

In 2014, “As Green As It Gets” became “De La Gente” (meaning Of the People or By the People), a name that describes who they are, who they serve, and who benefits from their work. They specifically decided to confront issues and injustices within the coffee supply chain and related challenges that producers face. At that time, they incorporated more cooperatives on a larger scale, choosing to accompany and assist them in becoming sustainable and thriving coffee producers.  

Today, De La Gente works in partnership with four coffee-growing regions, nine cooperatives total, representing over 140 small-scale coffee producers, and channels nearly $350,000 each year to farming communities in sales alone. They have been recognized for the quality of their coffee, their transparent relationships with the cooperatives they partner with, and the immersive opportunities they offer within those communities. 

Our group walked about 20 minutes up the volcano from Manuel's house, into the coffee fields. All around us, the three volcanoes were erupting continuously with Fuego. Rabbi Flip doesn’t know yet that I signed us up to hike the volcano on Shabbat. Shhhh… don’t tell!

Coffee leaf rust is a fungus that infects the coffee tree and causes it to lose its leaves and die slowly. The trees that are part of the cooperative are treated with organic treatment fertilizer, limestone on the trunk of the plant, and sprayed with copper to prevent the fungus. Additionally, when the coffee tree has too much shade, it is more susceptible to fungus. Coffee needs shade to grow, but it has to be the right balance. The beans go from green to yellow to orange and then finally to red, and that’s when they’re ripe. The black ones don’t have a coffee bean inside. Some companies blend the black beans anyway with the green, not yet ripe beans, to make instant coffee and then treat it with other flavorings. Rabbi Flip and I are already feeling the pressure to up our coffee game! 

Inside each red coffee cherry, there are two coffee beans and a liquid that they call coffee honey. If you chew the red skin, it tastes like a cherry flavor. Occasionally, the berries have just one coffee bean inside, and those actually have a really good flavor, but it’s rare to find coffee that’s made only from the berries with one coffee bean. 

I’ll admit that I have developed a fondness for my two coffee beans and have promised them that I will never drink instant again. It seems the least I can do.

It takes a total of three years to get the first harvest from a coffee tree. When the coffee trees start to produce, they create a white flower that smells like jasmine. The jasmine smell attracts the bees that come to pollinate the flowers, then the coffee cherries begin to ripen. Currently, we are at 1600 m above sea level. Coffee can be harvested up to 2000 m above sea level - the higher up you go, the stronger the coffee. While there is only one coffee harvest season per year, they are actually picked at three different times during the season due to the cherries ripening at different times.

The unroasted beans are green, and they are exported that way. De la Gente has a US roaster located in Cincinnati, and when you buy coffee from De La Gente, it is roasted and shipped to you immediately because once coffee beans are roasted, they have a shorter shelf life. Longer roast = darker roast/color. Manuel’s wife, Rocio, roasts the green coffee beans and then grinds them on a grinder given to her by Manuel’s mother as a wedding gift, which is customary in a Guatemalan marriage. (Audrey… where is my coffee grinder?)

Basically, if you want really good coffee, you need to buy from De La Gente or a reputable cooperative with strict standards on farming and sorting. You need to buy it immediately after it is roasted and grind it yourself just before you brew. Basically, Rabbi Flip and I have been drinking the “Boone’s Farm” of coffee and had no idea. (Apologies to those who like “Boone’s Farm”. We will be doubling your annual support😉.) Also… Guatemalans do not make or drink anything but caffeinated coffee. Apparently, we shouldn’t either!

P.S. There’s also now a female farmers’ cooperative, women and their daughters making coffee as part of De La Gente. And if you are eager to drink this amazing coffee, head to B’s Salty and Sweet in Colombia, TN, where Micah members David and Bethany Boran serve it every day!

Rabbis Log From Guatemala: Day 1

The travel day to get to Guatemala began very early, around 3 AM. We flew through Atlanta. Our first taste of Guatemalan culture was sitting right in our row in the form of a 99-year-old Guatemalan abuela (grandmother) traveling back home and separated from her granddaughter on the flight. We quickly became her “family,” helping her to buckle and unbuckle her seatbelt and utilize the restroom as needed.

We arrived in Guatemala city, cleared our immigration and headed to the UNESCO, World Heritage city of Antigua, which sits at 5,000 feet above sea level, surrounded by three of the most gorgeous volcanoes, two of which are currently active.

David and Bethany Boran (Micah members) are our amazing guides. On our first full day we headed out for a walking tour of the city with David as our historian. One of the things we noticed right away is that many of the local Guatemalans are not very tall. Some of that is due to malnutrition in the more indigenous communities, and the fact that so many live at high altitude which naturally lends itself to shorter stature. Or so we were told. Rabbi Flip is feeling very tall and enjoying that. The city itself is entirely composed of cobblestone streets, with very narrow sidewalks and planters that extend out so one must be very aware of where they are stepping and where they are walking. I think it’s not a matter of when we will fall, but how many times each day!

And it’s easy to note your direction by where the volcanoes are located.

And by the Park Central, if you stand still and listen, the sounds are a buffet of noises - an orchestra of bird calls, the water of the main fountain, an old man playing a lute, and tourists walking and shopping.

Antigua is a grid city. Avenidas and calles… like streets and avenues in Manhattan. Antigua means antique… it is the old Guatemalan capital, the colonial capital. Several Catholic monasteries in Antigua were established when the city was established in the 1500s. Indigenous villagers were taken from the surrounding villages and as far north as Mexico City to build the city for the Spaniards. The Catholic monasteries often supported this practice. In 1773, Guatemala City became the new capital and Antigua was largely abandoned. But coffee became a popular crop in the 1830s and Antigua boomed once again.

Masks are everywhere in Guatemalan art. We see them on walls in shops, in the hotel and around the city. Masks are part of the Mayan culture and indicative of spirit animals. They were worn during certain festivals and celebrations and are representative of the indigenous people.

Lots of Israelis can be found traveling around Guatemala. And Jews. Jews from all over. Today we met Orthodox Jews from Los Angeles and Maryland. Guatemala as a country has consistently supported Israel more than most other nations. And despite there not being an active Jewish community that is indigenous, I still see many images that indicate interest in Jewish life and history. Apparently when Jews were expelled from Spain, many came to Guatemala City and have remained. It was a haven for Jewish Spaniards.

Tomorrow we journey up the Agua Volcano to begin meeting some of the farmers and farm communities surrounding Antigua. Hasta manana… until tomorrow!

Social Action Food Drive

Many members of our community (including older Nashvillians and children) have lost their SNAP benefits.  As a result, we will experience a crisis in food availability for our most vulnerable citizens.  As a Jewish community, we believe in caring for our neighbors and feeding the hungry.  It is a driving value held by all Jews and drives the Social Action/Justice committees in our local synagogues.  So, we have joined together to realize our commitment to t’kun olam.

Please join us and the other synagogues in Nashville in these next few weeks to help provide food for our neighbors.  Bring a FULL bag of food items (non-perishables) to Micah, where a designated box can be found. You can also bring checks to our office, or donate at our fundraiser link HERE.  On December 19th, the Second Harvest truck will go synagogue to synagogue to collect…. let’s make sure Micah collects the most!

Winter Clothing Drive for Room in the Inn

Help support our neighbors in need by donating essential men’s clothing items. To best serve our guests, we’re focusing on what’s most needed and will only be accepting the items listed below.

MOST NEEDED:

• New men’s socks and underwear (boxer briefs preferred)

• New or gently used scrub pants with drawstrings (for sleeping)

• New men’s undershirts

• New or gently used men’s shoes or boots

ALSO APPRECIATED:

• New or gently used winter jackets, pants, jeans, or sweatpants

• Long-sleeved shirts, sweatshirts, and sweaters

• Belts

Bring your items the next time you’re at Micah. Thank you for giving thoughtfully and helping us meet real needs this season.

Volunteers needed for Room in the Inn! Learn more and sign up.

The Room in the Inn (RITI) winter shelter program begins in November and lasts through March. As we begin the second year of our partnership with Crievewood United Methodist Church, we could really use your help! If you have ever thought, "what does one night of shelter really do for someone?" let me explain. I recently heard from a RITI staff member that the hospitality that we provide overnight makes a significant difference in our guests' ability to engage with services that can be life-changing. Essentially, what we do by serving our guests allows them to "press reset" and start a new day with renewed hope, energy, and optimism. One night of warmth, fellowship, and peaceful rest can make all the difference!

You can sign up to volunteer using this link:
https://www.signupgenius.com/go/10C0D4AA5AC28A5FD0-58799708-room

Please note the dates when we will host guests at Crievewood United Methodist Church - 15 minutes from the Micah campus.

November 8
December 13
January 10
February 21
March 28

Please help us spread the word! We especially need help finding two men who can serve as overnight hosts for each date we host.

Be a Part of Micah's Choir Tradition

Congregation Micah has a long standing tradition of having a volunteer choir for the High Holy Days.

Conducted by Maestro John Sevier along with Cantor Josh Goldberg and accompanist, Chris Smallwood, joining the Micah Choir is a great way for Micah Members to engage meaningfully with the community, have a robust musical outlet with support from three professional musicians, and get the satisfaction of contributing beauty and majesty to our High Holy Day Services. 

Rehearsals start this Sunday! 

If you are interested in joining the choir for this High Holy Day season, please reach out to Cantor Goldberg as soon as possible at: jgoldberg@congregationmicah.org 

Cantor’s Israel Log Day 5-7: Gimme Shelter

Like watercolors dripping down the page, days and nights have been blurring together as the week goes on, so I will try to use dates and time stamps as much as possible to help me keep my own story straight. 

As Thursday night (June 12th) rolled around, we were in high spirits despite an emotionally draining day in the Gaza envelope. One of our group members from Nashville (and my good friend who I’ve known since we were in grade school in Dallas), Camden, turned 31 at midnight, so we all wanted to show him a good time. We hit a few different night clubs in southern Tel Aviv, enjoyed some dancing, drinks, and conversation at a rooftop bar. Thursday in Tel Aviv is perhaps the second busiest night of the week for the bustling social scene, since Fridays are more (but not completely) quiet for Shabbat. 

Around 3 am (now Friday the 13th—which I now realize may have been foreshadowing!), we got a red alert while on the rooftop. We all ran down three flights of stairs, out into the street, and into the nearest building we could find that looked open. It was a corporate office building of some sort. We ran down three more flights of stairs, and gathered at the very bottom of the concrete stairwell and began furiously checking our phones to try to figure out exactly what was happening. The headlines were mostly to the tune of, “Israel attacks Iranian nuclear facilities—retaliation is imminent.”  

After a few minutes of deliberation, we decided it would be best to join the rest of our group back at the hostel less than a mile away. From what we heard, Iran was sending attack drones, but it would likely take a while—about 5-7 hours to close the 1,000 gap between Tehran and Israel.  

As I can attest having been through Nashville’s recent tornadoes, the difference between a tornado watch and a tornado warning is similar to the two types of bomb alerts we get here in Israel. Either we get an alert to “stay near a shelter”, or an alert to “enter the shelter immediately.” 

Technically at this point the warning was just to stay near shelter.  But we also knew this was a big deal, a major turning point in the war. Attacking a superpower like Iran is not without consequences. And we were now playing a waiting game.  

The news we read and now understand was that Mossad carried out a major multi-faceted attack, taking out their top commanders and nuclear scientists. The Iranian Regime was just days away from a major nuclear breakthrough, and Israel decided the existential risk of a nuclear Iran was greater than the risk of poking the bear. Diplomatic solutions were long past the point of no return and now was the time to strike. 

We spent about 3 hours in the shelter until finally we got great news—Israel had intercepted every last drone before they even made it to our airspace. This felt like a major win. Israel carried out a heroic and complex operation and dealt a significant blow to a major enemy of their own as well as to the USA. (Remember, the Ayotolla and his henchmen have been chanting “death to Israel, Death to America” for years.) It seemed like David had shot Goliath right in the forehead with a slingshot. 

This also meant we could finally go to bed and exhale a full sigh of relief. At 10:47 am on Friday the 13th, we got a message from Home Front Command app (Israel’s official app to alert citizens of security updates via the IDF) that said “end of stay next to protected space in your area.” I went to bed, but adrenaline, anxiety, and existential dread created a powerful cocktail of insomnia. I knew deep down that Israel may have won this battle, but also had just opened up Pandora’s box. 

After laying in bed for several hours, I finally gave up around noon, when I got a video call from someone in the group that everyone was going to walk down the street to get coffee and pastries from the one shop that was open. I checked my phone and all my warning apps still indicated that we were free to walk around freely—no need to stay near a shelter.  I consulted my cousin, who happens to be the head of the JNF (Jewish National Fund, a major non governmental organization in Israel) who assured me it was totally fine to go out and about as long as we stay aware of any alerts or sirens that may or may not arise. For now, we were in the clear.  So I figured, “why not?” I couldn’t sleep anyway and coffee and a bourekka sounded like a welcome and well deserved treat after a sleepless night. 

We walked down two blocks to the cafe and enjoyed a snack together, sang happy birthday to Camden again, and started discussing what to do next.  

Friday was supposed to be the official kickoff for Tel Aviv Pride festival, something we were all very much looking forward to. Of course, Israel is the only country in the middle east that not only allows people to be openly LGBTQ+, but celebrates queerness and has a large and thriving queer population. Pride festival to all of us represents everything we love about Israel—it’s a celebration and declaration of love, acceptance, individuality, inclusion, and progressivism. 

Unfortunately, but not to our surprise given the circumstances, Pride Fest was cancelled completely. In fact, we also got word that all our flights had been cancelled, as all Israeli airspace was closed until further notice. All commercial Israeli airlines moved their fleets to Europe to avoid aircrafts being targeted by Iran. The reality of this was a bit hard to swallow. I can’t recall any other time in my life when I have been away from home without any conceivable way to get home safely. With no public airport in the country in operation, the only way to get back to the States would be to drive to a neighboring country and catch a flight from there.  So that leaves Jordan and Egypt, neither of which are safe or reliable options right now. 

Despite this, and despite Pride being cancelled, we were still optimistic.  A group of us walked about 25 minutes to the beach. The streets were relatively quiet, but in a calm way, not an unsettling way. Eva Marquis (Micah member and board member) got positive comments from strangers who liked the Israeli flag she tucked into her ponytail. One person even gave us a pride flag to complete her festive outfit. 

We spent a few hours at the beach enjoying the absolutely gorgeous weather and took a swim. All my worries were washed away by the cool waters and soft sand of the Mediterranean. I took a nap under a gazebo, and eventually we made our way back to the hostel for Shabbat. 

Our guide, Sergey asked me to lead a short Kabbalat service, to which I happily obliged. We sang and prayed on the rooftop as the sun set over Tel Aviv. Sadly, at 7:40, about halfway through the service I had planned, we got a warning alert to stay near the shelter. That meant no more rooftop for us. Nobody panicked, but we calmly made our way down to the dining room, where we finished the service and ate a delicious dinner prepared by the hostel staff. 

At 9:02, we got another message from Home Front Command: “In the next few minutes, alerts are expected in your area In your area.”  We heard the sirens going off outside, and all 200 people staying at the Abraham Hostel started making our way out of the dining room, down two flights of stairs to the safe rooms. About halfway down the stairs, we heard a LOUD explosion in the distance and felt the entire stairwell shake as if there was a heavy earthquake.  I felt my heart jump out of my chest. We RAN down the rest of the stairs and into the safe rooms. My heart was still pounding, and I felt my eyes welling up with tears. I thought of my wife, parents, sister, and family and prayed that this wouldn’t be how it all ended for me—I couldn’t bear the thought of that for them (or myself). I sat in the corner and caught my breath for a few minutes, just wanting to be alone. 

Some folks from one of the other tour groups started singing Israeli songs, wanting to break the tension in the room and distract ourselves from the obvious. A few people convinced me to play along on guitar even though I really didn’t feel like it, as I was still quite shaken. But as soon as I started playing, and the music and dancing got louder and faster, I started to feel better. 

There were two more missile barrages that night at 1 am and again at 5 am.  In between warnings, a group of us gathered in the dining room, and Camden and I entertained them with more music. 

We got through the sleepless night all together—laughing, crying, singing, hugging, and supporting each other. 

Saturday was a relatively quiet day, followed by a slightly less chaotic night, with only one time going to the shelter at 2:30 am.

In all, over the weekend, Iran sent 100 drones and nearly 300 missiles all over Israel, with about 14 fatalities total. 

This morning, Birthright moved us and all the Birthright groups around the country to a different location in a remote area (which I won’t disclose online, but you can ask me). There are nearly 400 birthright participants in our hotel, mostly college-age. We had to shelter once so far tonight at the new location, but overall, it does feel slightly less hectic and dangerous here. 

Our trip was supposed to conclude tomorrow (Monday), but as of now, we are stuck here until further notice. We are hopeful that we will all be able to get home safely soon. 

I so appreciate all the texts and calls with concern. This is a life-changing experience, for sure, but I balance that thought by reminding myself that Israelis have to experience this kind of uncertainty all the time in their everyday lives. I think this experience has already made me and everyone in the group more resilient, resourceful, and tough, like a Sabra. I don’t know if I’m quite brave enough yet to sign up for the IDF, but it I do feel such a deeper respect and appreciation for what they do every day to keep the holy land safe.

Praying for a day when everyone here can live in peace, free from fears of attack. Nobody deserves to live without a sense of basic safety and security. 

I promise to keep you updated on our situation. 

With love and appreciation,
Cantor Josh Goldberg

Cantor's Israel Log Day 4

A Note From Rabbi Laurie:

Cantor Josh is safe in Israel during a historic and disconcerting time after Israel's preemptive strike on Iran last night.  All trip participants are safe and looking forward to a peaceful Shabbat together.  The following is Cantor's log from a day in the Gaza envelope yesterday before the strike on Iran. 

---

Today was a day that will live in my mind forever—a day of bearing witness to history and becoming transmitters of memory.

This morning, at 6 a.m., we drove down to Meshek Beit Hagdi, an agricultural center in Netivot, a village just a short drive from the edge of the Gaza Strip.  After being greeted by the operator, we entered an impossibly large greenhouse. As a team, we spent two hours tying and cutting twine used to grow cucumbers.  While not quite as labor-intensive as the activities from our previous two days, it did require concentration, careful use of knives (at least one person nicked themselves), and endurance, since the greenhouse effectively became a gigantic sauna.  An eerie sonic backdrop to our experience was the intermittent sounds of bombs dropping in the distance from across the Gaza border, each like a booming clap of thunder, but without a single cloud in the sky.  We each took a row and worked our way down, accomplishing as much as possible within our allotted time.

As a thank you, the operator let us sample some freshly harvested cucumbers on site.  A fitting and appreciated reward after helping to prepare them for their next cucumber harvest.

After this experience, we departed for the second half of our day: a tour of Reim and S’derot—two cities that now live in infamy as the sites of some of the most horrific battles of October 7th, which history will know forevermore as the beginning of the “Swords of Iron War.”

The rest of the afternoon took on a surreal, dreamlike quality. Sites that we had all seen in pictures over the past two years appeared before us, but somehow still seemed like a mirage.

We started at the burnt vehicles compound, which is, sadly, exactly what it sounds like. A collection of Nova music festival victims’ vehicles—charred, gruesomely disfigured, and riddled with bullet holes. Now effectively an automotive mausoleum, it stands as a visceral tribute to their tragic and terrifying murders, and the heroism of those who risked their lives to try and rescue others from brutal acts of terrorism on that fateful day.  We met the father of festival-goer Ben Shimoni (z’l’), who happened to come to the compound that morning to lovingly adorn his late son’s car with extra Israeli flags.

With tears in our eyes, we moved on to the festival site itself—a large open field where a groovy music festival transformed into a hellish nightmare. We gathered and heard personal stories from the IDF soldiers who joined us for the day.  Everyone in Israel is seemingly connected by one or two degrees of separation.  Then we walked around the hallowed grounds, spending time looking at and reading each plaque, every one with a picture and a story representing a sweet young angel taken too soon. Artists, musicians, and techies—boyfriends, girlfriends, husbands, wives, siblings, and cousins of those they left behind. All so very beautiful and so very young and with so much potential and so much life left to live. I encountered a young soldier standing in front of one of the plaques, softly crying to himself. I asked him if he knew the person in the picture. He said, “He was my best friend. The best person ever.”  I hugged him.


As our bus took off from the site, driving onto the narrow roads leading back to the main highway, I had a momentary bout of survivor’s guilt as the cruel reality hit me: the simple fact that we were able to drive away safely, while hundreds of festival-goers who desperately tried to escape were prevented from doing so by heavy gunfire and explosives. It seemed so unfair.  That compounded with the overwhelming feeling that 99% of the world doesn’t seem to fully understand or care about what happened here.  It begs the question: what would the public discourse have been had this happened at Coachella, Bonnaroo, or Burning Man??

Finally, we visited the police station memorial in S’derot where all that remains in place of where a local police station once stood are 18 pillars. Our guide, Sergei, explained to us how this battle unfolded, as the local police force did everything they could to fend off the terrorists infiltrating their city. Ultimately, Israeli forces decided to cut their losses and destroy the entire station and the gunmen that remained inside.

While we had lunch, we ran into some other IDF members. I talked to one of them, an American from New Jersey who had also been visiting the Nova site that morning. He said the soldiers are sent there every so often as a reminder of why exactly we are fighting this war.

I think all of the people in our now tight-knit travel group finished the day differently than we started it.  It was a somber day, and we will carry that weight with us even as we head into the celebratory joy of Shabbat and the Tel Aviv Pride festival that awaits us this weekend.

The de facto mantra of Nova Survivors and families is, “WE WILL DANCE AGAIN.” That mantra will be echoing through the halls of every nightclub in Tel Aviv this weekend. With every flash of strobe lights and every thump of subwoofers, Israelis and their allies reclaim their joy, reaffirming their millennia-old hope that the nation of Israel indeed lives. Am Yisrael chai!!! 

With deep love, respect, and gratitude,
Cantor Josh Goldberg

ADDENDUM:
Around 3 am, we got a red alert, and sirens started going off. Israel launched a major strike on Iran’s nuclear program. After a few hours, we were told it was safe to go to bed but to remain on alert. Possible Pride Fest may be postponed, and flights may be cancelled. Going to try to get some sleep and will see what tomorrow holds. This was our second red alert this week, but this one is more serious as it involves a major nuclear power and immediately made international news. Luckily, we have a bomb shelter here in the hostel. I feel safe and grateful to the IDF for protecting us. But prayers are still appreciated. ❤️

Cantor Josh's Israel Log: Day 2-3

Shalom Chaverim!

I am so happy to be in the holy land.

After our first day in the country getting adjusted to our hostel (and the time zone) we have now completed our first two full days of volunteering. On Monday we started bright and early, taking a bus from Tel Aviv to Kibbutz Magal, about 45 minutes north, just a few miles away from the Green Line (Palestinian border.) Part of this massive Kibbutz complex is a farm called the Tlamim Center. This place was truly unbelievable: a non-profit that employs individuals with special needs as well as young Israelis on gap year before their army service. They offer incredible programs including structured animal-assisted therapy through interaction with a wide variety of animals such as horses, dogs, sheep, and more. Programs are thoughtfully designed to meet the needs of diverse populations, including individuals with physical, emotional, or cognitive disabilities, trauma survivors from the security forces, and at-risk youth. We split up into groups and spent the morning working tilling the soil in their fields, and tending to the animals. It was labor intensive, but very rewarding and a great first activity. (I was somehow stuck walking and brushing adorable sweet dogs while my fellow group mates were literally digging ditches in the sun- so I’m not complaining!)

After a delicious lunch at the kibbutz (did you know kibbutzim have their own cafeterias??), we headed up to the north to work at Kibbutz Mishmarot in their social mobility center, where they collect thousands of surplus items from retailers all over Israel to donate to those in need. We folded and boxed hundreds of items of clothing. And I finished it off with a mini song session.

This morning (wednesday) we went to Jerusalem to help bag potatoes, radishes and tomatoes at Chasdei Naomi, a charity that provides food for needy families and holocaust survivors. The employees were so grateful for ourhelp. And our new slogan at the end was “NASH POTATOES!”

After this volunteer activity we had some free time to roam the city of Jerusalem. My heart felt so happy walking around the Jewish quarter. The entire country seems way more patriotic than I remember it being last time I was here summer of 2023 with the Congregational trip.

Reminders of October 7th are EVERYWHERE. On walls, busses, buildings. Clearly the tragedy is still just as fresh in everyone’s minds here as it was 600 days ago.

The stark difference between the austerity of the old city of Jerusalem, and the LGBTQ rainbow energy of Tel Aviv as pride weekend approaches was striking. Despite the setbacks, unfathomable tragedies, and scrutiny of seemingly the entire world, Israel is as vibrant, beautiful, energetic, and magical as ever. I love this country more than words can ever say and remain hopeful that it will soon be restored back to its full glory and everyone here can finally breathe a sigh of relief.

More to come!

With love,

Cantor Josh Goldberg

Visit Israel With Congregation Micah

Extra Information:

• This visit to Israel will include travel in the north to see how events post-October 7 have affected northern communities. We will spend Shabbat in Jerusalem and visit the Gaza envelope to understand what happened on October 7th. We will need a minimum of ten participants for this trip to "go".

• Flight suggestions: Air Canada, El Al, British Airways (leaving Nashville on 10/20, arrival in Tel Aviv on 10/21; departing Tel Aviv on 10/26 just before midnight or 10/27 just after midnight, returning to Nashville on 10/28

• Hotels: Orient Hotel Jerusalem, Kibbutz hotel in Galilee

• All meals included

• Tipping included in the trip fee (not additional)

Cantor Josh's Israel Log: Day 1

Cantor has finally made it to Israel! If you’re interested in receiving daily updates on Cantor’s time abroad in Israel over this next week, make sure that you fill out the form just below.

Cantor's Israel Blog ‘N Vlog Begins Next Week

If you are interested in receiving daily email updates when Cantor posts new content related to his Israel trip, fill out the form below.

Second Micah Sponsored Diaper Wrap

Your Social Action/Justice Committee hosts a second Micah-sponsored “Diaper Wrap” with the Diaper Connection of Middle TN. All adults and middle/high school children are welcome. Gather at their warehouse (directions provided) from 10 AM to 12 PM on Sunday, April 13, 2025, to help prepare diapers for families who need help with this expense. Questions? Email Lynn Heady (lynnheady3@gmail.com)

Leave No Child Wet Behind!

A Message From Michael Ochs

Micah Changed My Life… and I am Forever Grateful

Dear Congregation Micah,

I am thrilled to share that on Friday, November 22, I’ll be back at Micah for Shabbat services with Cantor Josh and the Rabbis Rice. Words can hardly capture how wonderful it feels to be returning to my forever synagogue more frequently these days. It’s true what they say—there really is no place like home.

Although I’m still busy writing, recording, and performing around the world, I now find myself returning to Nashville more often. This has given me the chance to reflect on just how impactful Micah has been on my journey and the place Micah holds in my heart.

The truth is, Rabbi Ken Kanter and the congregation changed the course of my life. I first wandered into Micah for an open house—the grand opening of our current building—so late that everyone had already gone home. Everyone, that is, except Rabbi K., who greeted me warmly and asked about my work. His eyes lit up when I mentioned my music, and soon enough, he asked if I’d play piano at Micah on Friday nights. I initially said no, hesitant to take on the responsibility with my busy travel schedule—and my general fear of commitment! But he wouldn’t take no for an answer—thank you, Hashem! Before I knew it, I was behind the piano every Friday night… and there was nowhere else I would rather be.

When a song I wrote went on to win the Gospel Music Association’s Dove Award for Song of the Year, Rabbi K. looked at me and said, half-sarcastically, “Michael, here’s an idea… how about you write a song for your people?”

I had never even considered writing Jewish music before. Growing up, my shul didn’t allow instruments, and my father’s side of the family was Orthodox, so I was accustomed to the beautiful, old melodies sung a cappella. I hadn’t thought much beyond them—until Micah.

Rabbi K. kept encouraging me to write more Jewish music, and before long, I had reimagined the entire Shabbat service. I produced an album with Micah favorite Daniel Leanse on vocals, and soon, I was being commissioned to write songs for other congregations, the 92nd Street Y, and leading Shabbat services in synagogues from L.A. to Oslo, New York to Copenhagen. Congregation Micah truly changed the trajectory of my life.

But what I love most about Micah are the people who embraced me and my music all those years ago. These friends became my second family. We’ve laughed together, cried together, noshed together, mourned together, traveled to Israel together, welcomed Alaa and *The Pursuit of Harmony* to Micah, engaged in thoughtful dialogue on a myriad of difficult issues...and lifted our voices in song together. We’ve been there for each other. I often joke that Micah has been the longest relationship of my life!

So please join me on Friday, November 22, for Shabbat services. We’ll sing some of the songs that bring us that feeling of continuity and belonging. And maybe we’ll try one or two new ones that, hopefully, will feel like old favorites before long.

I look forward to sharing Shabbat with you, reminiscing, and creating new memories together.

Rabbi Laurie's Israel Trip Log: Day 6 & 7

Breishit bara Elohim… in the beginning God created…u-v’yom ha-shvi’I, sha-vat va’yi-nafash…and on the 7th day, God rested… SHABBAT!  And so too did your rabbi rest from blogging.  So where did I leave off?

After leaving the Kotel/Western Wall on Friday where we welcomed in Shabbat amongst the throngs of others who had come to do the same, we wove our way back through the Old City to the home of Hadar and Roni who welcomed us into their home for Shabbat dinner. It was a treat, to say the least! Homemade challah, plates and plates of beautiful and lovingly prepared food, wine. We sang, we ate, we blessed. It is always so lovely to be in the home of folks who live here and share their hospitality and experience with us. Roni and our guide, Avi, are in the same IDF unit and Roni is a chef by training. One of the special elements of this solidarity trip is that Avi was able to leverage some of the relationships that he has through his army service to enable us to experience things we otherwise would not have the chance, and to meet amazing individuals doing incredible things. One of the members of Avi’s unit, Aron, in his “spare time” rescues remaining Jews from the Sudan and brings them to Israel. He was able to share pictures and stories with us. In addition to ensuring the survival of our Jewish homeland, these soldiers are humans doing amazing things in their everyday lives.  

Shabbat morning meant sleeping in and, for me, prime time for a beautiful, long run through the Jerusalem Forest, one of my favorite places to go on Shabbat when the cars are few on the roads and something I used to do as a rabbinic student living in Jerusalem almost 30 years ago. Shabbat afternoon, several of us met Avi for a walking tour that would allow us a unique experience to wander through one of the oldest ultra-orthodox neighborhoods of Jerusalem, Mea Shearim.  I have many colleagues, especially female ones, who won’t step food in an ultra-orthodox neighborhood, and for good reason. Sociologically, I find the ultra-orthodox fascinating and I could stand on a street corner and observe for hours and hours. (For a great read on the ultra-orthodox, check out Samuel Heilman's Defenders of the Faith.)

Dressed in our most modest and conservative clothing, we made our way into the streets of Mea Shearim, and stepped into what might feel like a movie set to some and an alternative universe to others. Because it was Shabbat, men, women and children were walking to and fro, the men in their black or golden coats, black hats, some with their huge fur hats called shtreimels; women covered head to toe and in their Shabbat finery, young kids the mirror image of their parents.  The ultra-orthodox are not keen to groups walking through their neighborhood.  Not only do they not want to feel like there are on display (understandable), but they are not interested in outsiders poisoning the proverbial waters, if you will. 

It’s important to remember that many in the ultra-orthodox community are anti-Zionists.  They believe that when we(humans) created the Jewish State, it interfered with what should rightfully be something done by God, and that the current State of Israel is a devil/bastard version of what the Messiah will one day cause to be. Never mind that they have no problem benefiting from government funding and refuse to serve in the military, an issue at the forefront of Israeli society today.  I was shocked to see several Palestinian flags in the neighborhood as we strolled quickly through. Avi shared that many in the community are more supportive of the Palestinian cause than they are of Israel, as they feel that had Israel not been created “in sin” in 1948, there would not be the same strife with Palestinians. These are the same Jews whom the current Prime Minister, Benjamin Netanyahu, continues to appease in order to maintain his coalition and remain in power as PM. And it just gets more interesting and more complicated…

We exited Mea Shearim and stepped into East Jerusalem heading towards the Damascus Gate in order to enter the Old City. One of us mentioned that it was more comfortable to stand a kilometer from Gaza than to walk through Mea Shearim where we were clearly unwanted and unappreciated.  And Avi said the same about being in East Jerusalem, that it was more comfortable than strolling through Mea Shearim.  As we walked into the Old City, through the Damascus Gate, we saw Palestinians and Muslims also enjoying their day of rest, selling wares and visiting with one another.  Israeli police were visible to maintain the peace, but the only action of provocation that we encountered was from a group of rowdy yeshiva boys, marching 4-5 across through the main road of the Muslim quarter singing Zionists songs at the top of their lungs.  The police stayed close by in case their provocation caused a violent reaction, which it did not.  I asked Avi if he felt that kind of thing was (excuse my French) shitty. He said (this won’t surprise you) “it’s complicated.” On the one hand, no, he doesn’t like it. Why do they need to be provocative? It’s ugly behavior. On the other hand, Muslim/Palestinian provocation near the Damascus gate often takes the form of violence or stabbings, so given that reality, singing Zionist songs doesn’t feel so terrible.  We noticed several Israeli flags in the Muslim quarter and Avi explained that during Ariel Sharon’s time as Prime Minister, he really encouraged Jews to buy residences in the Muslim quarter, which Sharon did himself as well. It feels to me like a significant slight (aka middle finger) to the Muslim community and an ugly way of saying “this is all ours and won’t ever be yours,” but what do I know?  I am often wrong and have certainly changed my thinking about a lot with regards to Israel over the last 10-20 years.  It is our only Jewish nation and while the ideal would be to share it in peace, perhaps that is a fantasy reserved for dreamers only. Sigh.

The day ended with many in our group making havdallah and journeying just outside of Jerusalem to Gush Etzion to make a barbeque dinner for on-duty soldiers.  It’s the only picture from the day because… Shabbat!

On Sunday morning, our last day of the trip, we bid farewell to the best breakfast buffet on the planet (sniff, sniff) and headed back towards Tel Aviv for a day of learning and volunteering.  Our first stop was the ANU Museum which I had visited long ago but was delighted to tour again and has added a powerful exhibit on October 7th.  The ANU Museum, formerly known as the Diaspora Museum (ANU means "all of us" in Hebrew) has been renamed to capture the fact that the Jewish people is all Jews-- all denominations, all countries of origin.  

It’s a beautiful building on the campus of Tel Aviv University. At the end of our tour at the museum, we said goodbye to our guard and new beloved friend, Almog. Almog has also training to be a guide and is in the same unit with Avi. Before taking his leave of our group, Almog shared a personal story.  He said that his wife’s brother’s parents were murdered at Kibbutz Kfar Aza on the morning of October 7th. He didn’t tell us this when we were touring the kibbutz on Thursday morning because it’s still very raw for him. When that happened, he was given leave from his unit to attend the funeral and shiva. Almog and his family are what is known in Israel as chiloni, secular Jews. And the way he explained it, he said that his brother-in-law and his BIL’s family were very secular. When he was there for shiva, two ultra-orthodox men came to visit and Almog was instantly protective and angry, assuming that the men were there to explain how things should be done religiously and impose their form of Judaism on his family. To Almog’s surprise, they simply wanted to convey their condolences, to let the family know that “we are one big family” and that they were truly sorry for the loss. Almog was shocked. In that moment, he was comforted by and reminded of the fact we are am echad, truly one people, all connected by a shared beginning and a shared destiny.

From there, we travelled north to the Leket facility and distribution center. Leket is a food rescue non-profit. They feed 330 thousand people a week. On October 7th, they began feeding displaced people. They are fully donation based. Shira, our representative at Leket, told us that one of the goals of Hamas on October 7th was to destroy Israel’s agriculture production. 75% of Israel’s vegetables are grown along the Gaza border. On October 7th, they burned fields and destroyed agricultural equipment. Thai workers have supplied a lot of the farm work labor in Israel and 30000 Thai workers were called back to Thailand after October 7th.  Israeli tanks going to fight the war in Gaza have further destroyed the land along the border of the strip. Yet another layer to the complexity of this current matzav that we don’t know or think about. Layers upon layers of complexity. Leket has sent 100 thousand volunteers to farms in the south to support the farmers, and now some up north as well. Their work allows people to actually eat produce and vegetables who otherwise couldn’t. Our group spent our time at the facility packing avocados.  We packed over 3000 pounds of avocados which will feed approximately 800 families.

From Leket, we travelled to central Tel Aviv to visit Hostage Square. This is where the families of those murdered and kidnapped on October 7th have set up tents and created art installations to keep the reality of 101 remaining hostages in tunnels in Gaza in the forefront of our minds (the world) and the minds of members of Israeli parliament. As I write this blog, it’s been 407 days of captivity for those still stolen away in Gaza.  407 days, 60 meters below the earth’s surface. We stopped to talk with one gentleman from Kibbutz Be’eri which was ravaged on that fateful morning. His grandchildren were kidnapped along with their mother, father, and grandmother. Four.  members of the family were returned in the early hostage deal in November of 2023.  The granddaughter, Yael, was 3 when she was taken, and her brother was 7. During the 55+ days they were captives, they were not permitted to speak. When they returned, they still did not speak out of fear. Both have significant lingering issues and difficulties as a result of their trauma from that time. And they are just 2.

After a parting dinner together, we are off to the airport for our respective flights back to the States. This was undoubtedly one of the more impactful trips to Israel that I have taken, although I have truly loved every trip for different reasons. Every single Israeli we met thanked us profusely for coming. All we could say was thank you in return for safeguarding our home. It has been a week of mutual appreciation. What I can say with certainty is that coming to Israel has been a homecoming, and that Israel needs us to come as much as I needed to be here.

Rabbi Laurie's Israel Trip Log: Day 5

I began my day with a nice run along the former train track the travels from west Jerusalem south. Jerusalem has supreme people watching. During my morning miles, I saw Orthodox women running in their skirts, a fully covered Muslim woman working out at an outdoor park, and a monk in a long brown robe walking the same path I was running.  Throughout Jerusalem, there are mini-libraries where folks can take a book and leave a book, and it is common to see elderly sitting nearby on benches, visiting with one another, sometimes reading.  Jerusalem stone is everywhere (not ideal for running when wet) and the sky was a siren-free, piercing blue.

After another ridiculously decadent Israeli breakfast, we made our way to Mt. Herzl, the cemetery where all former Prime Ministers of Israel (except 3… do you know which ones? Answer at the end of this log entry!) We started at the grave of Theodore Herzl which sits at the very top of the property.  Herzl is considered the father of Zionism with the Dreyfuss affair acting as the catalyst to move Herzl to push for a Jewish state in our ancestral homeland (https://www.nli.org.il/en/discover/judaism/jewish-history/dreyfus-affair).  The property of Mt. Herzl is stunning and it is shared by Yad VaShem, the Holocaust museum and memorial. Yad VaShem sits at the lowest point of the property, symbolizing that the Holocaust was the lowest point in history for the Jewish people. Herzl’s grave sits at the highest point on the property, symbolizing that the creation of the Jewish state was/is the highest point in history for the Jewish people.  Interesting piece of trivia: there are no dates of birth or death at Herzl’s grave. Why? I believe it is because every day the concept of Zionism and the need for a Jewish homeland, a place where we can have self-determination and the ability to defend ourselves, is essential and therefore ongoing. It didn’t just happen in 1948. It is something we have to safeguard and defend every day, then and now.

We left Herzl’s grave and went on to visit Yitzhak Rabin and his wife Leah. We spoke about Rabin as a visionary for peace. Politics aside—whether you thought he was a good leader or not, whether you agree with the concept of land for peace or not—Rabin represents the idea that Israel can and will one day live in peace. Rabin’s commitment to that vision was undeniable and he was a leader who put his people before himself, an admirable quality in any politician and not always a given, unfortunately. 

We noted that between Yad VaShem and Herzl’s grave lie all the graves of those who have given their lives in defense of the State of Israel. I shared Jonatan Alterman’s famous and touching poem, The Silver Platter, which reminds me, a diaspora Jew, that I have been gifted this Jewish homeland without sacrifice and that that is a luxury and a privilege I must not forsake or take for granted. (https://zionism-israel.com/hdoc/Silver_Platter.html)

Next, we were treated to a conversation with Haviv Gur, a journalist with the Times of Israel who covers the region.  Settle in because what Haviv had to share with us was INCREDIBLE and I did my best to write it all down (which was a feat in and of itself since I was typing on my iPhone).  Here’s what he shared:

“The war has reached a point at which there are two clocks running at the same time: the first is the strategic and critical need to do something big in Iran, and the second, the exhaustion of the Israeli army.

On October 7, the Israeli army realized that Hamas in Gaza also exists in Syria and Yemen and Lebanon and are all strong due to Iranian support. They are proxies aligned against us. We (the Israeli public) woke up to the understanding that what Hamas just did to us, they all want to do, and when they can, they will. After October 7, there was a military call up of 300,000 men and women to the army.  The single largest call up in the history of Israel. And these reservists spent months in service, and missed months of work and family. The army is exhausted. Tens of thousands have lost businesses and jobs. Families are hurting terribly. Many who have been serving have PTSD, and many have been wounded and killed. If the Lebanon war expands deeper into Lebanon--a lot of the drone and missile reserves of Lebanon are deeper into the country from the border--if Israel decides to go for it, we will have hundreds of dead soldiers and wounded just from that expansion. The call up cannot be permanent. Some units had 100 percent call up. At first, after October 7th, 130 percent wanted to be called up. Today, due to exhaustion, 75 percent show up to a call up. It’s a problem. 

Israel is a small country. Not like the US. The US military can sustain a major presence without really feeling it. Israel cannot afford it. So that’s one clock that’s ticking. And that’s driving a lot of decisions in the actual war. 

Israel has concluded that no one is coming to save Gaza from around the world: not the Saudi’s or the Emirates or the Egyptians. Half of Gaza society is under the age of 18. Hamas has ruled there for 17 years. So, half of Gaza is raised on a Gaza curriculum. You have got to fundamentally change the religious and ideology of Gaza. Rebuild the schools. Israel will not be able to successfully come in and say: The Islam you learned is not true. Please have this Islam instead. The Jews can’t do that, and the Muslim world is not doing it either.  The Saudi’s, for example, want a de-radicalized world, but the Saudi’s are completely incompetent. They don’t have a functional army. The Emirates do have an elite special forces, but there is no serious standing army. So even if the Saudi’s were willing to take Gaza, the only way they could do it is if Hamas is destroyed and removed from power in Gaza. But the Saudi’s couldn’t even fight them on behalf of the Jews if they wanted to because they physically can’t do it.  Hamas would be able to defeat Saudis. The Saudis are cowardly along with the rest of the Shiite world that would love for Israel to get rid of the Sunni menace for them.

Hamas built out a strategy in Gaza that is so unimaginably cruel that we did not believe it when it happened. On October 7th, we were in one sense shocked that they breached our super smart-AI fence in about 20 minutes. They ruled Gaza for 17 years and built nothing except 500 km of tunnels. Do you know what 50 km is? It’s more than the New York subway system or London tube system. Astonishing. And why did they spend every dime of foreign aid on these tunnels rather than on improving the livelihood of the Palestinian people in their care? So that they could put our people (kidnapped hostages) and their fighting forces in a place where we cannot get to them. These tunnels are not in rural areas. They run underneath the cities, which allows Hamas to force the enemy (Israel) to cut through the cities as the only way to come for them. And no civilian can go in the tunnels to hide and protect themselves. And in order for us to get to Hamas, we have to destroy Gaza. And kill civilians while doing it. Hamas planned this for 12 years. The destruction of Gaza they planned for 12 years. That’s astonishing. The destruction of Gaza is their actual policy. We realized that Hezbollah in the north Hamas in the south are willing to destroy their own societies in order to destroy us (Israel). That’s what we realized on October 7th. And we need to run Gaza now because no one else is going to do it besides Israel. 

So how do we face enemies on all fronts who are willing to destroy all their own societies to destroy us? There is no doubt that Gaza civilians are suffering.  There are no schools. No income. No help. They are totally reliant on humanitarian aid. There are 900 truck loads just sitting there and no one will distribute the aid because Hamas attacks whoever tries and especially when it’s the Israelis. So, civilians suffer even more. By the way, no one is dying of hunger. The news will tell you that they are. The news is lying AND there is immense suffering. But there is no other option for Israel. It’s a disaster for the civilians of Gaza. Hamas has never and still does not care about them AT ALL.

What else… Nasrallah (leader of Hezbollah in Lebanon) was taken out by Israelis in Beirut, and it was incredible. Nasrallah planned an October 7th attack in the north on a much larger scale. But really, September 27th was the big news. The big news was that the bomb that took out Nasrallah was a bomb built on a brand-new Israeli production line that runs 24/7 and never turns off. We are weaning ourselves off of our dependence upon foreign states to give us arms. We make our own weapons now and use only the minimum amount we need. We look at where we need to hit a building to take it out with just one hit. We want the air force to do more so ground troops can do less. Counter the exhaustion present in the army. An Air Force attack takes two people. A ground offensive could be 150 people. So, we have expanded the missile economy, and this has been awesome. 

In Gaza: we broke it; we own it; we have to fix it. It’s a long-term project and difficult, and this will not end soon. Lebanon is the opposite. We have weakened Hezbollah massively as a strategic actor. Lebanon can rebuild quickly, but at the moment, it’s on its ass. In Gaza, there is nothing other than Hamas. In Lebanon, there is a lot of the rest of Lebanon that is not Hezbollah, and these citizens are turning on Hezbollah and want a country that is not a battlefield between Iran and Israel. We want to deescalate Lebanon fast so we can lower the cost and while elevating the achievements. 

What’s the best way to deescalate the war in Lebanon? We need to take the war to Iran. None of this would be happening without Iran. The Hamas that carried out October 7th was fully funded by Iran. Iran pays as little cost as possible while they use their proxies to do whatever necessary at their expense to make Israel unlivable. But now Israel is getting smart, and knows its strategy should be massive escalation that has massive costs to Iran. Iran wants to destroy the Jews for religious reasons and we need to make it so costly for Iran that it’s not worth it for them. Israel has something on her side: escalation dominance, and we have more it than the Iranians. We are at the bottom of our curve, and they are at their top. We killed their guy in Damascus, and they launched a massive amount of missiles that did nothing. What did we do in response? We shot just three and hit them right by their nuclear missile center. And then we took out the guy in Tehran. And the Iranians did another missile attack which was more successful but not successful as far as actual damage. And Israel’s response was to take out their air defense system and missile production factories. We lowered their escalation curve. We flew over Tehran for SIX hours without them being able to do anything. And the best part: some of the Israeli pilots were women! This is a fascinating factoid for the Iranian opposition. Because in Iran, there are parts of the society that is secularizing as a response to the religious fundamentalism of the regime, so women flying over Iran is part of the message and helping fuel that split in their society

The Iranians know they are weak, and now everyone else does also. They don’t have a nuclear warhead right now. They are so weak now. This is the time or Israel and her allies (the US) to push them back. Break their economy and their nuclear capability. We need the US to help do this. We don’t need to fix Iran. We can just break it. In Gaza, we have to fix it. Let’s avoid at all costs a war in Lebanon. Best way to do this is exact massive costs to those funding the war in Lebanon by hitting Iran. 

In the US, you hear a lot about planning for the day after in Gaza?  “What’s the plan after?” is what the US keeps asking.  The thing is, we don’t have to plan for the day after in Gaza because there is no day after without getting rid of Hamas. There is no solution regardless of how you feel about Israel without getting rid of Hamas. America has no idea of Iran’s atrocities in the region. Assad would not have been able to slaughter 600 thousand in Syria without Iran’s backing. The Christian community in Syria that was once 10 percent of the population: GONE. And guess what? Nobody cares. Nobody noticed. That’s Iran. 85,000 children starved to death purposefully in Yemen in 2018 and no one cares or notices and there are no protests on US college campuses. That’s Iran. What’s happening in Gaza has happened over and again and so much worse. Iran is destroying nations on the altar of a religious mission to destroy Israel.”

We were inclined to give Haviv a standing ovation. I wished everyone I knew and then some could have heard his talk. I did my best to recount it above.

As we made our way out of Mt. Herzl, we came upon a funeral for an IDF commander killed two days ago in Lebanon. Thousands had come to pay honor to this man who some knew, and others did not. In Israel, everyone knows everyone.  This is everyone’s war and everyone is affected in some way. 

And finally… because I know you have been waiting with bated breath… the three Prime Ministers NOT buried at Mt. Herzl are: Ariel Sharon, Menachem Begin and David Ben Gurion.  

We spent the afternoon at Machane Yehuda, the main shuk (marketplace) in Jerusalem.  The crowds were insane! We bought some halva, good olive oil, and had a bite to eat.  From there we changed clothes and made our way to the Old City and the Kotel/Western Wall to bring in Shabbat with the throngs of soldiers, yeshiva students, and ultra-orthodox who were doing the same.  From the shuk and the Kotel, you would never know that Israel is experiencing hardship and tough times.  The joy and celebration for Shabbat was higher than I have ever seen it.  And so it is with the Jewish state… and the Jewish people.  Joy is our superpower, and no one can strip us of it: not Hamas, not Iran… no one.

Shabbat shalom…

Rabbi Laurie's Israel Trip Log: Day 4

This was a very heavy day. So, let's begin on a light note. If you have ever been to Israel, then you understand the goodness contained in these two important words: Israeli breakfast. I had forgotten the extent to which the Israeli breakfast is truly breathtaking. Spectacular. Take-your-breath-away stunning. Our very early morning began with an INCREDIBLE Israeli breakfast before boarding the minibus to head south towards the Gaza envelope. I could write an entire entry on the array of delectable treats on the breakfast buffet, but you will just have to come and see for yourself on a future visit. You won't be disappointed.

We left Jerusalem heading south towards Gaza. On the drive, Avi, our amazing guide, pointed out various sites of interest.  We passed the monastery where it is believed that Mary and Joseph rested on their way to Bethlehem. We drove along the contentious security barrier that runs between the West Bank and Israel. Avi also primed us on some history of the Gaza area. 

Lest the day be entirely void of some sort of commentary on our recent presidential election, we were stopped at a checkpoint heading south.  The IDF soldier who got on our minibus to check us out was excited to learn that we were from Nashville and pointed to a sticker on his M-16. It was a picture of our incoming 47th president, and this sweet young soldier said with a big smile, “Trump will make America great again!” And with that, we were approved to continue on down the road.

Along the way, yellow ribbons could be seen along the road as we moved further south from Sderot to Gaza along what is known as the death road, 232. This is the road that was infiltrated by Hamas terrorists and civilians on October 7th.  We passed "death shelters" which were simply road-side shelters in which many people took cover after hearing the initial rockets on the 7th, but they turned into death traps for those hiding when the terrorists came with their artillery and murdered them en masse.

We arrived at our first stop for the day: Kibbutz Kfar Aza. Rabbi Flip and I had been here in January. So, I was prepared for what we would see. The carnage had been cleaned up a bit since my last visit. You could still see where homes had been burned, bullet holes everywhere, and one home left as a memorial to the carnage of what occurred all over the kibbutz that fateful morning.  It is still amazing to note how close we stood to Gaza. We not only could see Gaza through the trees, but we could hear the explosions which undoubtedly rattled some in our group.  But our guide, Tzachi, assured us that the bombs going off in the distance loud and strong was "the sound of freedom... don't worry!"  Tzachi also told us in no uncertain terms, "We are on the front line of the world here in the Gaza envelope.  If we fail here, the entire world will lose." Which left me thinking about (rather frustratingly) how the world needs Israel to succeed but will surely criticize her actions every step along the way.  

One image no Israeli will ever forget from the morning of October 7th is that of the paraglider flying into Israel from Gaza.  Where did the Hamas operative learn to paraglide? In Israel, of course! They learned to glide in Netanya, as part of a peace exchange wherein they were brought to Netanya and taught to glide and GIVEN the gliders. Many of the people who did the most damage and looting and killing in Kfar Aza were not members of Hamas but average Gazan citizens who knew the borders had been breached and came over with axes and hammers and their weapons of choice to do unspeakable things. But because we are Jews and memory is of the upmost importance to us, we will speak of those things.  So we never forget. Again. Tzachi shared, "This is the front line. A resident gets up and thinks about work and family and education and the resident in Gaza gets up and thinks about breaching the border and murdering. It’s the difference between light and darkness.”

Then we met a resident of Kfar Aza, Yoav Bibas. Yoav was not at the kibbutz on the 7th because he was visiting his girlfriend in Beersheva for Simchat Torah. But his parents were locked in their safe room for 22 hours. As he told his family's story, we couldn't figure out how he seemed so light and almost joyful. So we asked him, and he said that he was smiling because on Oct 7 his mission started. His mission of not letting them win. And this brings him joy. We continued to tour, viewing the horror of that morning in one particular home that has been left as a memorial.

Tzachi let us know that some residents have already moved back to help in the rebuilding and that the kibbutz plans to be fully operational and inhabited by summer of 2026. 

We left Kfar Aza and headed to the nearby Nova Festival site. There, we met with Aliya, the mother of Maya who was murdered on October 7th. I have always wondered: Did Hamas know about the Nova festival and plan to attack? Some Israelis say that the assault of October 7th was supposed to be a coordinated attack with Hamas in the South and Hezbollah from the North, and not necessarily on October 7th. But when Hamas knew about Nova, they realized it was their "biggest bang for the buck" and had to capitalize on it. We won't ever really know, but the Nova Festival attack actually kept the terrorists from advancing further north because they got held up at the festival. Some say the initial plan was to go all the way up to Beersheva with the assault.

At the festival, people were dancing til 6:29 when the music stopped. Everyone looked for a way out. Maya, Aliya's daughter, got out and made it to a roadside "death" shelter with 40 other people. By 8:15 am, half of them had been murdered; one kidnapped, 12 survived. 413 people in total were murdered from the Nova Festival: mutilated, raped, burned alive, left for dead. They came to celebrate life, and the terrorists came to celebrate death. Aliya said that she has lived her life thinking there are people on "the other side" willing to talk but now she really isn't sure. The murdered that day ranged in age between 16 and 73 years old.  So many bodies had been scattered in the surrounding fields from the festival that he parks authority put GPS on the vultures and were able to find many bodies as a result.  Sit with that for just a moment.

To read about how some attempted to survive at the festival, read here about those who hid in a nearby dumpster.

As we left the Nova site, we stopped to pay homage to and visit the roadside shelter where Hersh had hidden and from which he had been kidnapped. 

Next, we travelled to the southern city of Sderot which is no stranger to rocket fire and huddling in shelters.  They have lived amongst the constant rain of rockets since 2001.  On the morning of October 7th, Hamas terrorists entered Sderot through the main entrance of the city. They came prepared to murder. A family of four—mother, father, and two young daughters-- were leaving the city early to spend the holiday away from the noise of rockets. But, as they were about to head out  the main entrance, just as the terrorists were entering, the sirens went off and, as is customary, they stopped their car and got out to find a nearby shelter.  That is when the terrorists murdered the mother and father.  When the police finally reached the car and attempted to rescue the young daughters, one said, "Atemshel Yisrael? Are you on our side? One of us?"  The memorial in Sderot is a compliation of 18 (chai—life) pillars, some engraved with the most memorable words or moments from that day.

Before leaving Sderot, we stopped to view a mural of a Torah atop the police station that was taken over by Hamas militants until it was destroyed by the Israeli army in order to destroy the infiltrating terrorists, with Hebrew letters floating up to the sky.  The meaning: they can try to burn us, but they can’t take our spirit. They can't take our souls. Even if they were to burn the very pages of the Torah itself, every letter in the Torah represent a Jewish life and they can never extinguish our souls. 

After leaving Sderot, we headed to our last stop of the day before heading back towards Jerusalem. We visited the car cemetery, an unusual memorial which is a collection of the cars that were destroyed, burned, gutted with bullets and MPGs, as well as some of the vehicles used by the Hamas terrorists on October 7th.

But it was really less of a site of burnt cars and more of a site of burnt souls.  After October 7th, families began to show up and claim the cars and the cars themselves began to take on the souls of those who once drove them, attempted to flee in them, used them as part of their rescue mission to save others at their own expense. There was an entire ambulance where 18 members of the Nova Festival were murdered.  After throwing an RPG at the vehicle, the terrorists then set it on fire and all the bodies within were burned, some of them alive.  An ambulance is where you can go to be safe. Not this time. 

The guide who shared the stories of the various cars for us at the site said that she always believed in peace with Gaza, for 25 years, and then on October 7th, they came to destroy her.  To devour her. She told us that Hamas came with a handbook of what to do if you find a Jew. "Fill your hands with blood. Cut out their heart. Cut out their liver."  

A Holocaust survivor once told the story that when he went to synagogue in Berlin before the war, he was walking, and he fell ,and the Germans laughed at him and said, "You fall like a Jew," and he said, "I fall like a human, but I get up like a Jew." 

Through every testimony we heard today, whether in Kfar Aza, at the Nova Festival, in Sderot or at the car cemetery, the prevailing message was: We choose life, we choose light, we will prevail, we will overcome. 

Tzachi closed our day in the Gaza envelope together with these words: "I know Arabs. I know Islam. I have been in the Gulf with my family and seen an Islam of peace and tolerance and wisdom. That’s not what’s happening in Gaza. It is a perversion. It is darkness." 

After a long 2 hour drive back to Jersulem, we were reunited with my now-old friend Nissimmi who treated us to the most delicious chef's dinner, curated just for us. From the food to the wine to the conversation, it was delicious through and through. On a crisp, fall Jerusalem evening, we left Nissimmi's and made the 25- minute walk back to our hotel only to fall into bed after a very full day, with full bellies, and full hearts. Am Yisrael Chai!

Rabbi Laurie's Israel Trip Log: Day 3

I began the day in Herzliya at the Lerches, and headed out the door for another beautiful run along the Mediterranean.  Sometimes people watching in Israel is akin to people watching in New York City-- you never know what you might see!  Two days in a row, I saw this lady power walking on the beach with her adorned umbrella. Today, I had to stop and snap a photo.

I bid goodbye to my wonderful hosts and headed to Jerusalem. I LOVE JERSUALEM. It truly feels like coming home to the city where Rabbi Flip and I first met, where I lived for a summer during a college, and then for a year during my first year of rabbinic school.  I know this town. I have walked her streets. I feel she knows me as well and is happy I am back. We are old friends, she and I.

After dropping my bags at the hotel, I strolled to get something to eat before meeting up with the rest of the group from Nashville, arriving today.  I walked past the Taube campus of the Hebrew Union College which was recently expanded under the brilliant auspices of architect Moshe Safdie, the same architect who designed Yad Vashem  (the Holocaust museum in Jerusalem) and the National Library of Israel amongst other international wonders.  I sat and had a typical Israeli salad of fresh peppers, tomatoes, feta cheese, bulgar, cranberries and cucumber. And as I glanced across the street from the cafe where I sat, another reminder that many (not all) Israelis are very happy about the outcome of our recent presidential election.

From lunch, I made my way up towards the Supreme Court and the Knesset where I met up with the Nashville group just arriving in from the airport.  It was great to see Rabbi Saul and his daughter, Ravi, and the other travelers with our group. Our first stop together was a tent outside of the Supreme Court, adjacent to the Knesset, where there are folks holding vigil and honoring the fallen soldiers since October 7th. Our wonderful guide, Avi, explained to us that this group represents more of the "right " in Israel, in that they want to see the war to the end no matter what.  From there, we walked the equivalent of two blocks to another tent where family members of hostages are holding vigil for those still held in Gaza. Avi explained that this group represents the "left" in that they want to end the war now, an immediate ceasefire, and make any kind of deal, at any price, to bring home the remaining hostages.  At this tent, we heard directly from three people holding vigil.

Roni: When someone is calling for help, we need to save them.  We cannot ignore it.  It is not enough to say that we want them out. We need to do all we can do to bring them home. We must make a deal with heavy prices and get them back. And then if the deal is broken, we can go back and fight after if we need to.  If we don't bring them home, we betray them.  And they have already been betrayed once when our border did not protect them.  This is basic Jewish values. Basic human values. Not to be a bystander. I cannot beleive we are just letting them die there.  

Yossi: It is a basic law of Israel that everyone must be protected.  It is the law of the state.  The government is influenced by the public and so we need to convince the public. Parliament does not act enough. And they need to act immediately.

Oren: I am a family physician from South near the Gaza border. I have come here with other doctors on strike because we feel things are only getting worse.  We see increases in depression, sleep issues, small children won't go anywhere alone, people having panic attacks, kids bed wetting, and all other preexisting health issues are out of control for people (hypertension, diabetes, etc.) and the only way to help my patients is to stop the war and bring home the hostages. Most Israelis are in some kind of depression. The rebuilding and rehabilitation of the  country will only start when we bring the hostages back and stop the war.

Tomorrow morning, we head south towards Gaza...

Rabbi Laurie's Israel Trip Log: Day 2

Today was a “down” day, meaning it was not as much a day of touring as it was a day of “being” in Israel. My hosts, Micah’s former Executive Director Celia Lerch and her husband, Aaron, and two kids, Archer and Shoshana, live in a lovely home in Herzliya. Herzliya sits on the Mediterranean about 30 minutes north of Tel Aviv.  After a reasonable night of sleep, I headed out for a morning run along the water. The town was peaceful and there were plenty of folks walking, running, surfing, doing yoga, and drinking coffee up and down the coastline.  

It would be easy to forget this is wartime. Except that the images of kidnapped hostages are visible in many places and lots of Israelis wear the “bring them home” dog tag around their neck or a yellow pin on their jacket.  When we think of the war, our thoughts most often turn south to Gaza, where the assault of October 7 took place. However, the north is currently the region from which Israelis are largely displaced and where most of the causalities are taking place. Just last month, over 80 members of the IDF died in service in the north, and Israeli citizens are advised not to travel north even to Caesarea or Haifa. 

As I ran along the coast, I wondered what my plan would be should I hear a siren. As it turns out, if you are driving in a car when the sirens sound, you are supposed to pull over and get out of the car and on the ground and cover your head. Same if you are walking on the street NOT near a restaurant, shop or home that might have a shelter. Lie on the ground and cover your head. This is to protect the head from shrapnel. 

In Israel, it’s not uncommon to move from the serious to the mundane and back again, like a monkey mind that bounces from thought to thought, so too with this blog as I try to adjust to the jet lag and digest all that I experience. That’s my explanation for moving from “what to do if there is a rocket attack” to “I may have had the best hummus of my life today.”  Truly. I think what makes Israeli hummus so amazing is the amount and quality of tahini that’s used. I imagine that not all American brands even use tahini and if they do, not very much. It’s really the key ingredient. I am seriously considering bringing hummus back in my suitcase but, as you might imagine, the potential of leakage is concerning. Stay tuned on that one.

I decided to take an afternoon nap because as it turns out, in my 6th decade of life, adjusting to an 8 hour time change takes a bit of time, and I was tired today. Just as I started to drift off, Hezbollah decided it was ripe time to send rockets in our direction.  The sirens began, but they were not actually hitting in our direct neighborhood so while we could hear them, we weren't required to move into the shelter. See the attached picture for the various locations of rocket drops all surrounding Herzliya.  None of this is new to Israelis. I went on with my nap and Israel went on with her day.

Before dinner, we headed to the local grocery... a mercolet which is an Israeli version of an AM/PM, and just around the corner from where Celia and Aaron live.  We bought provisions for dinner-- fresh hummus, pita, haloumi to pan sear with drizzled honey and sesame, labneh, sumac and zatar for seasoning, fresh vegetables which render our vegetables stateside quite shameful, I must say.  If you know, you know.  And as I was checking out, the store clerk asked if I was from America.  When I answered, "yes", he continued: "Trump is bad for America, bad for the Jews, bad for the world."  I truly did not encourage him to continue, but he did regardless: "Trump sold Israeli secrets to the Russians who funneled them to the Iranians who used them against Israel in the October 7th attacks." I just stared, mouth open.  This... I had not heard before.  It sounded like a most crazy conspiracy theory, but as I have talked to several other locals, apparently this is believed (by some) to be true.  Again, fascinating that the Israeli public seems as divided about our newly elected president as the American public. And I continue to take it all in...