I'm writing from the coach cabin on El Al flight 006 from L.A. to Tel Aviv, heading back to Israel for another week of journalism and reconnecting.
This trip will be quick, and seems easy. Actually, it was very hard to arrange.
Last month, everyone was canceling everything, fearing a much wider war in the Middle East. I had a ticket on British Airways, and they canceled ALL flights to Israel through early next year. Two tours I might have accompanied also canceled.
I looked at fares on El Al, and they were prohibitively expensive. Suddenly, after refreshing the website for days, a fare popped up that was reasonable -- normal, even. I didn't hesitate; I moved ahead and booked my ticket.
My ambition is to get to Lebanon, somehow. I don't need to go far into the place; I certainly don't want to go anywhere particularly dangerous (though it's all a little dicey). I just want to stand there and look back at Israel.
I have a specific reason for wanting to do so: when I was at the Lebanese border in November (on the Israeli side), it was clear that the Hezbollah-controlled villages had the topographical high ground. That's a reality I want to convey to the world.
I'd also like to get to Gaza, if possible, and report on what is happening there -- again, as safely as is possible. I'd also like to report on the mood in Israel, the effort to rebuild the communities around Gaza, and the prospects for peace.
I think my coverage may help to shape American perceptions, particularly in the emerging Trump administration (to the extent that they read my stuff), which is moving toward peace deals, hopefully on favorable terms.
Along the way, I'm hoping to reconnect with friends and family, and to the spirit that draws me to that magnificent country and its brave and beautiful people, who are among the world's happiest despite -- or because of -- their struggles.
This week’s portion launches the great story of Abraham, who is told to leave everything of his life behind — except his immediate family — and to leave for “the Land that I shall show you.”
There’s something interesting in the fact that Abraham is told to leave his father’s house, as if breaking away from his father’s life — but his father, in fact, began the journey, moving from Ur to Haran (in last week’s portion). His father set a positive example — why should Abraham leave him?
Some obvious answers suggest themselves — adulthood, needing to make one’s own choices, his father not going far enough, etc.
But I think there is another answer. Abraham (known for the moment as Abram) needs to establish his own household. This is not just about making one’s own choice, but really about choosing one’s own starting point. It’s starting over.
Sometimes we start over in fundamental ways even if much that surrounds us remains the same. Sometimes the journey we have to ...
The story of Noah is familiar; the details, less so.
Noah is often seen as an ambivalent figure. He was righteous -- but only for his generation. What was his deficiency?
One answer suggests itself: knowing that the world was about to be flooded, he built an Ark for the animals and for his own family -- but did not try to save anyone else or to convince them to repent and change their ways (the prophet Jonah, later, would share that reluctance).
Abraham, later, would set himself apart by arguing with God -- with the Lord Himself! -- against the destruction of Sodom and Gomorrah, saying that they should be saved if there were enough righteous people to be found (there were not).
Still, Noah was good enough -- and sometimes, that really is sufficient to save the world. We don't need heroes every time -- just ordinary decency.
Hi all -- as I noted last month, I'm going to be closing down my Locals page, at least for tips and subscriptions -- I may keep the page up and the posts as well, but I'm no longer going to be accepting any kind of payment.
Look for cancelation in the very near future. Thank you for your support!
