Tiyul to Masada!

by Micah Schachet-Briskin,       12th grade,        NJ

It’s strange to realize how much we do alongside people we may never meet again. Activities such as going on public transportation, visiting museums, and hiking up a mountain at four in the morning to reach an ancient fortress. To kick off this blog post, I’ve decided to write an acrostic poem about my trip up the infamous Masada Snake Path

In hiking Masada, I faced nature’s worst

Climbing the fortress seemed easy at first

Able to sing and to laugh a full breath

Not yet believing your imminent death

Now that sounds bad, but let me explain

Overdramaticized stories of pain

Telling this true tale acrostic poem style

Back to the story and up a whole mile

Everyone fast was first to be benched

Lively and panting, our outfits sweat-drenched

I wearily sat and forced heart rate reduction

Everyone left, but my seat was a suction

Voicing my pain, I limped up past the clay

Eventually, I got most of the way

With the sun on the rise, I knew I should break

Every step I took uphill caused more ache

Sat on a ledge, our group’s growing gaps

As the sun rose, I filmed a time-lapse

When right past my seat, my friend Carson shocked,

Giant and muscular, swiftly he walked

Right when he noticed our admiring gaze

Our modern prophet uttered this phrase:

No pain no gain out here on Masada!

Kernels of truth were dropped on this cauda*

Deep breathing in and deep breathing out

Under the new day, I had no doubt

Devine intervention made this hike extraordinary

Even though I would have loved the air ferry

Hobbling uphill, I didn’t feel dread

Once his wise words were inside my head

Lighting up the end, a sky of azure blue

Yes, I climbed Masada, I saw that perfect view

Cresting from the mountaintops, the morning sun rose high

Ruby, topaz, white, and gold, all engulfed the sky

And though the ache might make you break or push you to the edge,

Pain and stress affect you less when gazing off that ledge

(*a cauda is a tail-like structure, like the snake path)

So now that I got that out of my system (WE SAW THE ROBERT JAMES GRONKOWSKI, RETIRED NEW ENGLAND PATRIOTS TIGHT END IN ISRAEL, ON MASADA, AND HE SPOKE TO ME) here is the rest of the blog post.

Mesada (in English, fortress) was a fortress used by the Zealots (Sicarii) from 66-74 CE. However, the Zealots only made it theirs after two previous iterations of the land. The first use of Masada was by Alexander Jannaeus in approximately 100 BCE. There are no remains of this site, the only source we have is the writings of Josephus, which is a big deal because those writings have given historicity to several excavations. The second iteration of Masada was King Herod’s winter palace from 37-31 BCE. King Harod really built up Masada and frequently used it as his desert escape from the hardships of being king. We can see his impact on Masada through things like his tiled and heated bathhouse, a whole castle, and forboding walls. Herod saw Masada as an escape in case of a revolt and chose to build atop the mountain due to its natural defensive advantages and warmer atmosphere year-round. After the death of King Herod, the Romans took over for a while. Then came the Great Revolt.

In 66 CE, the First Jewish-Roman War broke out. The Zealots, led by Eleazar Ben Yair, overtook the Romans at Masada and claimed Masada for themselves. Their reason for choosing Masada as their home base is the same as King Harod’s: natural defenses, location, and now the added bonus of Herod’s giant walls and buildings. The Zealots only needed to do some minor renovations, such as adding in a mikveh and a synagogue. Both additions prove that the Zealots are devout Jews, if not radical extremists, and they plan on using Masada as not just a fortress, but as a communal Zealot living space. In 70 CE, the plan was in full swing when, after the destruction of Jerusalem and the Second Temple, the remaining Zealots and their families made a pilgrimage to Masada to live out their happy rebellious lives.

Sadly, that only lasted about three or four years. In 73/74 BC, after several failed sieges, the Romans figured out how to get up to Masada. They built a giant ramp, an impressive feat in that day and age, and planned on ramming down the walls and taking back Masada. When the Zealots saw the Romans creating a mountain out of thin air, as only God can do, they decided to meet and cast lots to see which two women and five children would be the sole survivors and would go on to tell the story of Masada. The seven chosen people escaped, then everyone destroyed and burned as much as they could so the Romans wouldn’t be able to use their facilities, then everyone else was killed by ten really unlucky guys, who, after killing everyone they know, kill themselves to leave no survivors. The Zealots were so extremely anti-Roman, they preferred mass suicide and destroying their community home in freedom over becoming assimilated or made into slaves. Suicide is a big fat no-no in Judaism, and the Rabbis were not big fans of the Zealots, so the fascinating story of The Siege of Masada is often swept under the rug by the Rabbis and other Jewish scholars.

Masada lay dormant for nearly 18 centuries until, in 1828, scholars rediscovered Masada, and in the ’50s, ‘60s, ‘80s, and ‘90s, further excavations were done on the site to uncover more structures. When people visit Masada, something shouted, then echoed back, is “Masada will not fall again”. This is also the end of the oath taken by those getting inducted into the IDF. This phrase basically boils down to “we will never let ourselves be put in a situation where the only two options are losing our home or losing our lives, as we did at Masada”. The fall of Masada isn’t the biggest or most impactful piece of Jewish history, but it’s remembered for what it represents. The situation the Zealots were put in was an extreme lose-lose situation. Israeli Jews have promised themselves that they will never have both options be against their favor if a situation similar to Masada arises.

Masada started as a potentially small fortress for a Hazmonian king that left no remains, then it got expanded upon and made into a winter palace/revolution escape by a power-hungry legacy-obsessed Herodian king with a fixation on giant blocks, then it was used by Romans until a group of radical Jews captured it and turned it into a Jewish rebel dream home/fortress, but then a Roman siege had the highest body count of a battle that never started due to the mass suicide of all the rebels, and now, after being excavated, Masada is a tourist attraction where the only ways you can go up and visit is by choosing between suffering in the sweltering sun for what feels like 5 hours while hiking up an ancient path that is so awful to hike that over 20 centuries ago, the fortress that the path leads to became highly coveted for its snake-like and rediculously steep “natural defense”, or you could use the wonderful, air-conditioned modern technology of a gondola to get shakily hoised up 190 feet with nothing but a thin wire preventing you from a sudden and fatal plummet. All joking aside, Masada is a cool place with a cool story.

Christianity Tiyul to Ein Kerem Churches in Jerusalem

by Aurora Mercer,        10th grade,            Arlington VA

On the 7^th of Tishri, our class traveled close to our home at Kibbutz Tzuba, visiting churches in Jeusalem's Ein Kerem neighborhood. Before entering these churches, I didn’t expect what I learned, saw, or even heard would be impactful to my Jewish identity. I had been to churches before, even during mass, and had always brushed my experiences aside, because I knew that I was Jewish and nothing could change that, and nothing, especially a church or a mass, could strengthen those beliefs. I think now, after finally listening and embracing my most recent experience, it’s safe to say I loved every second of them and would continue to learn more in a heartbeat.

The Church of the Visitation in Ein Kerem neighborhood, Jerusalem

Our teacher David is always looking for a chance to add insightful knowledge that he’s gained from his Israel tour guide class, but even before we had seen a church he mentioned that about 80% of the tourists who visit Israel are Christians, I was slightly confused. Sure, there’s the Church of the Holy Sepulcher and maybe a few other lesser-known attractions here and there, but I thought that it was hardly anything, and not their homeland, or so I thought. As we went through our first round of notes, my eyes began to open slightly more with every new thing we learned. The real origins of Christianity are actually begaun in Israel, with Jesus and Mary. Before Jesus was even born, word spread to the people, and eventually Mary, that Jesus was going to be the savior of the world, and if you look at the lineage of Jesus in the new Testament, he descends from King David; something that could make him the Messiah Ben David. In order to give birth, Mary traveled to Bethlehem, stopping at an inn in Ein Kerem. This stop was incredibly significant because it was where Mary’s sister, Elizabeth, told her that she was going to soon give birth to the savior of humanity.

The altar in the upper chapel in the Church of the Visitation

As we continued on, I already felt ignorant for my lack of knowledge about a religion that stemmed from mine. We moved into a church courtyard in the Church of the Visitation and that was where I realized just how many generalizations I had made about the religion. As we stood there, David told us to look around at the walls. They each had the same few words of the "Magnificat" prayer on them, but every single frame had a different language. I had always known that Christianity was practiced on a pretty large and global scale, but I had never stopped to think about just how accepting that really makes it. I always believed that most Christians were closed minded people that use their beliefs for closing people out of their lives and religion, when in fact their Bible tells them everyone in this world was made in the image of God. To me that was a pretty powerful, warming, and an eye opening thought.

Walking into the Catholic Church of the Visitation during a sermon while mass was being held was incredible. We were told to look around, and notice the church itself. Although all I could focus on were the people; both the priest and the congregants. The men and women that surrounded me where watching the front of the church, taking in everything the priest had to say with attention. He was talking about how this particular congregation that had always been the Elizabeth to his Mary. How whenever things got hard the people in that room were always there for him. Even if they couldn’t help his problems directly, they heard him and that alone was powerful, and that realization evoked a very strong emotion in everyone there.

Mosaic depicting the Virgin Mary's journey from Nazareth to Ein Kerem

I live a lifestyle where I’d like to believe I’m accepting and full of love but the truth is this tiyul opened my eyes to see that sometimes hearing instead of just listening makes all the difference in how I view other people as well. Learning about a religion that some people consider to be an updated version of the original first century Christianity was not only fascinating but also strengthened my ideals and reminded me of why I’m Jewish. As loving and accepting Christianity can be, it grew from our Jewish traditions that I look forward to pursuing, both while I’m here at Tzuba and when I return home in December.

Israel Museum, Model of Jerusalem, and the Dead Sea Scrolls

by Daniel Wellerstein,       12^th grade,         Berkeley CA

Recently, our Jewish History class went on a Tiyul to the Israel Museum in Jerusalem and learned about Roman rule over the city during the Second Temple Period. At the time, Jerusalem had become the center of not just religion, but also culture for the Jewish people. It had developed a “cardo” or heart of merchants and stores that was of deep economic importance. We were actually given the opportunity to see exactly what Jerusalem might’ve looked like during this period in the form of a massive model of the city built in 1965, and now displayed at the Israel Museum.

One important detail is the large interior walls within the city that tower above any other building. These are the walls of the Temple Mount (Har HaBayit) which hold up the Beit HaMikdash; the Second Temple, which was indisputably the most important place for the Jewish people in Israel. Additionally, the outermost walls of the city were expanded significantly by the Romans, adding even more to the scale of Jerusalem. However, despite the expanses made by the Roman Empire, the city and the Jewish population had been divided into sects, or groups with differing ideologies and beliefs, especially about the religion.

giant model of Jerusalem in the Second Temple Era on display at the Israel Museum

During this time, there were four major sects that the Jews were divided into: The, Sadducees, Pharisees, Essenes, and Zealots.  The first group, the Sadducees were a rich, heavily Romanized group that benefited greatly from Roman rule in Judea. However, despite being Jewish, following the destruction of the Second Temple at the hands of the Romans the Sadducees disappeared since the center of their world was no longer in existence.  Next, the Zealots, were a group that was very adamant about their desire to rise up against the oppressive Romans. They believed that even other Jews who didn’t think similarly should be killed off, as in their minds, they were just as bad as the Romans.  Third were the Essenes, a highly religious and messianic group that believed in the coming of the savior at any given moment, and therefore found it necessary to constantly take part in the ritualistic practice of Mikveh; purifying oneself for the arrival of the Messiah. They lived far out of Jerusalem in Kumaran and most likely eventually died off in the desert, but are actually often credited with the writings known as the Dead Sea Scrolls.

my classmate Micah acting out a role play of one of the sects of Jews in the Second Temple era

The Fourth and final group were the Pharisees, or as we know them today, the Rabbis. They weren’t only some of the poorest in Jerusalem, but were also treated terribly, essentially sanctioned in the lowest part of the city where sewage runoff would flow through. They are and were known for being extremely pragmatic which is also strongly credited as the reason they survived for so long. Following the destruction of the Second Temple, the Pharisees would go on to usher in the Rabbinic Era of Judaism or Modern Judaism as we know it today. This is also the group I identify with most, seeing as they brought about the culture and religion I grew up in, and because of their outlook on being ruled by the Romans. They didn’t entirely give up on who they were as Jews, but they were open-minded and understood the necessity of keeping their heads down when the time called for it. This, to me, is something that is very hard to do, and extremely admirable.

the famous Shrine of the Book at the Israel Museum housing the Dead Sea Scrolls

For the final portion of our tiyul, we went to see the Dead Sea Scrolls and many other ancient texts, including the book of Isaiah, the longest spanning book in the Tanakh (as seen above). While the architecture and history of the building and its contents were very interesting, the significance of the scrolls are entirely unmatched. These scrolls gave historians dates, and names; historicity in action, helping to solidify the Jewish timeline even more. These breakthroughs have revealed key facts about Rabbinic Judaism, the rise of Christianity, and many important religious relationships following the destruction of the Second Temple. These are some of the most important religious artifacts currently in possession, as they underline the idea that these stories and events were in fact, written and detailed by people.

the Book of Isaiah is the central item on display in the Dead Sea Scrolls exhibit

Herodian Mansions & Southern Wall Excavations

by Lila Herzig,      11^th grade,        Cincinnati

our class walking around the old city in Jerusalem

When learning about Jewish history on the weekend in religious school, a majority of my education focused on the Torah and the Holocaust. All of that space between the two was only covered in my seventh-grade year. I knew two things: the Torah is stories, and the Holocaust is living-memory history. The in-between stuff? Well, let’s just say that I had no idea when the anecdotes ended and historical fact (or at least archaeological corroboration) began.

A few years ago, my parents mentioned the City of David to me and my mind was blown. I had honestly never thought that King David was real. My lack of knowledge about the ancient Jewish presence in the Middle East meant that I thought that the only claim Jews had to Eretz Yisrael was the promised land as outlined by G-d in theTorah. Suffice it to say, I was very skeptical of the validity of a Jewish state in this region. Were Jews really native to this land?

If I only got one thing out of this entire Jewish History class, it would be that I now believe that Jews have a right to live in Israel. Sure, the modern politics of it are very complicated, but I can now confidently say to my friends at home that the creation of Israel as a modern nation was not just “white” colonialism, and attempting to paint it as such is an uneducated basis for an argument. I think that’s the most important thing, really: because of this class, I am educated on the history of Jews in Israel.

Archaeological evidence of Biblical events is called historicity. This particular trip, or tiyul, focuses on one of the first events that is explicitly documented by historians (not just the Tanach) and is corroborated by archaeological findings: the Second Temple and its destruction. This is when there is obvious proof the Jews were living in the land of Israel. I didn’t know anything about the Second Temple era before this class, except for the fact that there had been a temple. This tiyul gave me context for a history that I hadn’t known anything about just a few days ago, the sites of the events we are learning about.

This trip was a full-day trip in Jerusalem's Old City, mostly focused on archaeological findings. Our first stop of the day was to an excavation of homes of Sadducees. The Sadducees were a sect of Judaism in Judea (the Roman territory which contained Israel) during the Second Temple Period. They were Cohenim (priests) who took care of the Beit HaMikdash (the Second Temple) and made sacrifices there. They were wealthy, got along well with the Romans who ruled over Judea, and lived in the upper city of Jerusalem (which was prime real estate at the time). So unsurprisingly, their homes were very impressive. 

One of the big signs that a mansion that was uncovered belonged to Cohen and not some wealthy Roman, besides its location in the upper city, is that the Cohenim had personal mikvehs in their homes. There were always seven steps leading down to a small bath, where the Cohenim could ritually immerse privately, a luxury not afforded to the common Jews of this time. Another sign of a Jewish home was the presence of carvings of menorahs. If a menorah was found in an excavation, that meant that Jew lived there. But despite these Jewish symbols, the houses of the Sadducees were very Roman in style. This reflected the aesthetic of the whole of Jerusalem, which began to resemble a Roman city. The Sadducees were wealthy, so their mansions resembled the villas of Italy, complete with Roman columns and tiled floors. These Cohenim prospered in Roman society but needed the Beit HaMikdash to maintain power in Jewish life.

A tiled mosaic in the Herodian Mansions

After seeing these mansions, we took a break to eat in the old city. The area was touristy, bustling with tour groups as well as people going to work. Shops were selling hand-woven tallit, rosaries, and t-shirts. The dusty stones encasing the whole area impressed me more than any shop or cheap restaurant. This place really felt like the Old City. It felt like a place where there had been great temples and a place from which more great things would emerge. However, going to our next location, the Western Wall, made me realize how new this Old City is compared to the history it contains.

Second-Temple Judaism was very different than the Rabbinic Judaism that we practice to this day. This is mainly because Jews were able to apply the law of the Tanach (halacha) without interpretation, as practiced by the Cohenim. Instructions on how Jews should act in Jerusalem, what they should do at the Temple, and laws about food and agriculture that specifically apply to Eretz Yisrael were all relevant at the time. Once the Second Temple was destroyed, rabbinic Judaism prevailed, mainly because the Jews had left Jerusalem and they had no temple, so the halacha had to be re-invented for a world without the Temple.

a mikveh in the Herodian Mansions of the Sadducees

As modern Jews, we can still visit the site of the Temple Mount. We spent the second half of our class at the Western Wall. there, we talked about its archaeological history and the significance of different areas of the wall. During the era of the Second Temple, before any destruction had occurred, the Beit HaMikdash was the center of all Jewish life, regardless of where each Jew lived. A huge mass of Jews from near and far would make the pilgrimage to Jerusalem (the aliyat regel עליית רגל), often on foot. The three pilgrimage holidays (shaloshet haregalim שלושת הרגלים), which are in season right about now, are Pesach, Shavuot, and Sukkot. During these holy days, Jews from all over would gather in Jerusalem to offer sacrifices at the Beit HaMikdash. As this pilgrimage was holy, there was a process to it:

1. Once he arrived in Jerusalem, the pilgrim would exchange his local money for a half shekel, which he would give as tax to the Temple.
2. The pilgrim would buy an animal ready to sacrifice (unblemished). The cheapest animal was a pigeon.
3. The pilgrim would bathe in the public mikveh to inaugurate this special moment.
4. The pilgrim would walk up the steps of the Temple, donate his half-shekel, and hand off his sacrifice to be given to the priests.

            The walk that the pilgrims took up the steps was, in itself, an important experience. We, ourselves, walked these steps and put our hands against the wall that these pilgrims touched. This reminded me of why I am here in Israel and why I am a Jew. The fact that I can walk the steps that my ancestors did remind me of the importance of upholding this culture and religion that has existed for millennia. I wouldn’t call the moment spiritual, but it was certainly powerful. In the days of the temple mount, there were certain ways to enter depending on the pilgrim’s situation. The ordinary way to enter was to walk up the right side of the stairs and exit down the left. However, those who were in mourning or had been excommunicated walked up and down on the left side, so that others would see that they needed comfort and would offer them words of reassurance.

our class walking down the steps of another ancient mikveh near the Western Wall

         

Robinson's Arch.  The bottom of the arch indicates how much was excavated since 1838

one can see how the style and type of building stone changed over the centuries

Herodian stones, notable for the outline around each one

           I love this idea of demonstrating your struggles quietly so that those who notice can comfort you. Jews do this all the time. In some synagogues, mourners stand up first during the Kaddish Yatom and/or wear torn black ribbons on their clothing. These quiet symbols ensure that there is a community around you in times of need. This method of climbing the steps shows that the Beit HaMikdash was a place of unity for Jews. A Jew from Jerusalem might be comforted by a Babylonian Jew who they will never see again, but their culture brings them together, just as synagogues today do, but on a larger scale.

The steps of the Temple Mount that we climbed up to where the Temple once stood.

A view of the area of the wall we visited.  This is also the egalitarian prayer section of the Kotel.

           The Second Temple era lasted through many empires. It was the last time that Jews sacrificed animals to G-d or applied every halacha to Temple life. Even in the days of the Second Temple, Jews were not unified (one of the many reasons why we could not hold our own against the Romans), but the Beit HaMikdash was agreed upon as a place of great importance by most Jews and was treated as such. When the Temple was destroyed again, it became the most significant event in Jewish history. It marked a turning point from written law to oral law, from Cohenim to Rabbis. It was also simply a great loss for the Jews. Judaism simply changed after Tisha B’Av, 70 CE. Some groups became closer together, other became even more fragmented beyond comprehension. Tens of thousands of Jews were lost and with them, their stories and their memories of the Second Temple Era. Those who survived had to learn to move on, and that is what Jews are still doing to this day.