When my daughter, Alexis, attended the University of Massachusetts in Amherst, she took several Jewish Studies classes including one taught by Rabbi Yosi Eisen. Rabbi Yosi was the first Orthodox rabbi Alexis ever knew. His kindness and inclusive nature drew students to him like a magnet. Rabbi Yosi was wonderful to talk to. Each of my daughter’s questions from the intellectually serious (“Do Jews believe in an afterlife?”) to the more lightweight (“Rabbi, can I still be a good Jew if I like to shop?”) was treated with respect, zero judgment and answered with earnest thoughtfulness. Alexis was thrilled to learn Rabbi Yosi was accompanying her University of Massachusetts Taglit-Birthright group.
Birthright was an incredible experience for Alexis. She called home the day she arrived in Israel to exclaim, “Mom, I am so proud to be a Jew!” The pace was non-stop. The students volunteered at a school and stayed at a kibbutz. They took nature hikes and trekked up Masada. They bonded with the soldiers who accompanied them and were touched by the resolute bravery of these young men and women. They cried at Yad Vashem. They slept in the desert and toured the sights of Jerusalem including, naturally, The Kotel, in which Alexis placed a prayer for her dying grandfather. They learned the historical significance (both recent and ancient) of the places they visited and imagined what life was like for Jews of long ago as well as how life will be for Israelis of the future. Israel, after all, is an ever-evolving saga, and the students tried to weave themselves in and among this unfolding miracle.
They realized this was not simply an Israeli story.
It was their story.
Alexis experienced many profound moments, but one of the most meaningful occurred at the Dead Sea. The students stripped down to their bathing suits and one of them said, rather shocked, “Hey! Check out Rabbi Yosi!” The rabbi had removed only his jacket, shoes, and socks and calmly walked into the water essentially fully clothed. Alexis and her friends could not tear their eyes away. Did they think it was funny? “You had to be there,” Alexis told me. “It wasn’t the clothes. Rabbi Yosi was floating with such a look of peace on his face. He wasn’t just enjoying the water. He was totally, completely one with God.”
And Alexis was worried.
As Jews, we know the central tenet of our faith is, God is one. We also understand an important part of being Jewish is sharing our faith by attending synagogue, celebrating the holidays, connecting with the world, and making Aliyah. The value of the Jewish community cannot be underestimated. However, sometimes we forget the Jewish faith encourages each of us to forge a singular relationship with God.
No middleman is required.
My daughter realized the importance of seeking this individual connection even before she saw Rabbi Yosi floating serenely in the Dead Sea with his face turned up to the skies. Several times during the trip, she let all else go and concentrated solely on the miraculous nature of God: when she lay underneath the night sky of the desert and one particular star twinkled at her, when she walked away from her group in the stifling heat to quietly contemplate the meaning of Masada and a breeze came out of nowhere and ran down her back, and when she stood at the Western Wall amid throngs of people, placed her hand on the wall and suddenly felt she and these ancient stones were all that existed in the world. Although each moment stood on its own, they built upon each other as Alexis strengthened her alliance with God.
The Birthright trip was life-changing, so why was my daughter worried?
Alexis feared she might never again find this solitary union with God once she left Israel. Alexis shared her concerns with Rabbi Yosi. “I want to bring this kinship with God home. I want to keep finding what you did when you were floating in the Dead Sea. How am I going to do that in Massachusetts?”
“Alexis,” Rabbi Yosi said. “You have made Aliyah. You don’t need to be in the Dead Sea. You can connect with God at any time and any place through here.”
And he put his hand over his heart.
Alexis realized nothing could match the experience of being in Israel, and she plans on returning someday. It was, after all, in Israel where her faith grew its own wings and transformed into something beautifully tangible and intangible at the same time. Having made this incredible journey, she could now bring the sights and sounds of Israel home with her. Armed with this “take away bag of spirit” and the wisdom of a gentle rabbi, Alexis could continue to work on her individual relationship with God.
Turning our hearts and souls to God wherever we may be, blocking all else out and reveling in the singular connection with God is surely love in its purest form.
This article was originally published in The Jewish Journal, Boston, Mass.
