The Wandering Jew Goes to the Land of the Jews

I am now just over a week into my three-and-a-half-week vacation, and although insomnia and sleep apnea seem to be setting in as nasty biproducts of my schedule during the semester (the latter is an issue for which I really should seek medical attention), it is a pleasure to be able to roll over, see that it's 9:30 a.m., and not have to panic for fear that I have overslept my alarm by two hours. Instead, I can settle back into my covers, roll back to the other side of the bed, and enjoy another hour or 90 minutes of blissful slumber.

One fact that I have learned about myself this semester and in the ensuing time off is that, as much as I long for a moment's rest when I'm shuttling between the university's campus and my office for the third time in a given day, knowing that I'm facing three more hours of forced concentration before I can let my mind spool down for a few minutes, I ultimately feel better about myself when I am occupied and directed. Vacation time makes me happy and rested (if not fat and drunk, since it's the holidays and I tend to do far more eating and drinking this time of year than I should), but life's adventure makes me even happier--whether it's shuttling between work and school or between continents--and so, I try to occupy even my precious days off with some form of directed activity, my favorite of which is travel.

Therefore, in three days (it is now Monday, and I am taking off on Thursday), I'll be leaving on a 10-day youth tour of Israel, a land that is dear to me both as a Jew and as a lover of history, and I will be traveling with 34 other restless young souls, none of whom I've met before, and each of whom is presumably making this journey for different reasons and searching for different truths (or perhaps just looking to get away for awhile).

This will not be my first trip to the "Holy Land," but it is nonetheless somewhat by design that I decided to make the return journey at this particular time and under these particular circumstances. The tour that I am taking is an educational trip that is subsidized by an endowment that funds an organization called "Birthright Israel." This organization--and the endowment that fuels it--exists for the sole purpose of allowing Jewish youth between the ages of 18 and 26 the the opportunity to experience Israel in an organized, educational setting. The more zealous of the faith probably see this as a means to lure Jewish youth to Israel to stay. I see it as a gift of culture--one that so many of this generation either take for granted or of which they do not realize that they are a part. This is not meant as criticism of my generation, as I have always taken great pride in the peer group to which I belong. It is simply an observation that Jewish youth seem to be moving further from Judaism, which from a purely religious standpoint (ie., belief in God), is understandable, but from a cultural one, is a shame.

I do not consider myself religious. I do not know whether or not I believe in God as God is described in our religious texts. I do not follow the dietary laws of Judaism, nor do I keep the sabbath, nor was I confirmed (although I was Bar Mitzvah'd), nor do I date Jewish women, nor will I likely marry one. Most observant Jews would call me a "bad Jew," although I prefer to see myself as merely secular.

That being said--and perhaps this is hypocritical--I consider myself deeply committed to maintaining Judaism as a culture and as a value system, to raising my children as Jews (and to their becoming Bar or Bat Mitzvahs), and, when the time comes to begin building a family, to making sure that the Jewish traditions in which I was raised are an integral part that family's identity. While I am still unsure as to whether or not I believe in God, I am still Jewish to the core and identify strongly with the deep history and complex culture that comprise this distinction.

There are 20 million Jews alive today (the vast majority of whom live in the U.S.). There are a billion Catholics, almost a billion Muslims, hundreds of millions of Hindus, and hundreds of millions of Christians of other denominations. Of the so-called "major religions," Judaism is the closest to extinction, and as a result, I feel a very personal responsibility not to be a part of that march to oblivion that I fear we are taking as a people.

As a result--and because I am getting older and closer to the necessary determination of the exact nature of the role that Judaism will play in my life and that of my children--I believe that this is the time to go back to Israel, to spend this time with other young secular Jews, and to reconnect with the culture and the history that I feel so committed to helping maintain.

The trip itself should be a blast--35 college kids and young professionals trekking through Jerusalem, the Golan Heights, the Negev Desert, swimming the Dead Sea and the Jordan River, and spending New Year's Eve in Tel Aviv. We will be spending time with Israeli soldiers and near the Palestinian territories discussing the region's volatile political situation with members of the Israeli Arab community. Some fellow travelers will be significantly younger than I am, which I hope does not diminish their appreciation for the opportunity that we have to bond as Jews, but also as young people on an adventure.

As I've traveled and met people around the world, I have come to realize that the success of any journey depends on the companions with whom we share it. Cultural and personal searching aside, it is my hope that the sense of companionship is strong among this group and that each of us finds at least a bit of what we are looking for.

Stay tuned...