I woke up in a rainy Jerusalem, feeling excited about the day, but also tired. It had been a long week of travel and work, however exciting and inspiring. I did some work, then walked in the rain to the closest Aroma Café for breakfast.
Just then, I received a message from an IDF soldier I'd been planning to meet at the border with Lebanon: the ceasefire meant that the soldiers were on the move to secure various critical goals before the fighting would have to stop.
My plans were canceled. I was disappointed, but I wished him well. I didn't quite know how my day would change, so I went on with my schedule. I had coffee with a cousin who is involved in engineering projects throughout Israel; I spoke to the Misgav Institute of Zionist Strategies about U.S. policy towards Israel in the second Trump administration. (Short version: likely to be good, but take nothing for granted, and find creative ways to meet Trump's own policy needs.)
I learned two things: one, that there are conservatives in Israel thinking of offering Trump a gradual cessation of U.S. aid in exchange for recognition of Israeli sovereignty in key areas; two, all of our knowledge is still so limited.
I returned to my Airbnb and decided to take a nap (with the aid of two glasses of wine) and reset my internal clock to Los Angeles time. I woke, worked, and decided to go for a run -- to the Kotel and the Haas Promenade, for the view.
I ran for two and-a-half hours and savored the winter afternoon light of the city. I prayed at the Kotel; I enjoyed the golden light of the walls of the Old City; I marveled at the colors along the promenade as the sun dipped low.
I ran back, past the YMCA in its Christmas glory. I showered, packed, and drove to Modi'in for dinner with one of my cousins. Then I headed to the airport, and finally to the flight home, which is where I am writing this.
I had a thought at random at the Kotel: my war is over. I don't know what that means. After all, there are still hostages in Gaza, and major threats. But I feel a sense of completeness. Was it Trump's win? Or maybe just hope? I don't know.
This is the portion that all journalists should love: the Torah tells the story of the 12 spies, only two of whom tell the truth when the other ten shade it in a negative away (perhaps to suit a political agenda that is opposed to Moses).
It's not that the ten "lying" spies misconstrue the facts about the Land of Israel; rather, they interject their opinions that the land is impossible to conquer, which strikes unnecessary terror into the hearts of the people.
We have many examples of such fake news today -- from the Iranian propaganda outlets spreading false claims that they are winning the war, to California politicians spreading false horror stories about ICE raids in L.A.
The people realize, too late, that they have been fooled, and once they are condemned to die in the desert, they try to rush into Israel -- only to be defeated by the inhabitants, as the spies predicted that they would be.
But as consolation, God gives the people new commandments -- focused on things they must ...
This week's portion discusses the procedure for lighting the menorah, the holy seven-branched lamp, in the Tabernacle (and later the Temple). It also describes an episode where the people crave meat, and God punishes them by giving it to them in excess. We also read the story of Miriam, Moses's sister, who is punished with the spiritual skin blemish of tzara'at for speaking about her brother, thus violating the prohibition against lashon hara (evil tongue).
I heard a fantastic sermon this week about the lighting of the menorah: that while only the priests were qualified to clean and purify the menorah, anyone could light it. A reminder that each of us can inspire others along the way.
This week we study the vow of the Nazirite; a reminder that sometimes trying to be too holy is excessive, and the best we can do is to be the best that we are.
https://www.chabad.org/parshah/torahreading_cdo/aid/2495720/p/complete/jewish/Naso-Torah-Reading.htm
