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.

URJ Heller High

Teaching the Biblical Period and Building a Foundation for Jewish Identity

by David Alon

Most of us remember the bible stories we learned in Hebrew school and file them away in our memory, bringing them out once a year on a particular holiday to remind us why we are feasting or fasting.  We often learned the G-rated versions of the actual text, but they became ingrained in us none the less.  In our early years, our Jewish identity developed as a conglomeration of all these bible stories, and for the multitude of Jews who don’t live strictly according to halacha, this is what came to define us.  That is until we reach the age when we are old enough to learn in graphic detail about the horrors of the Shoah.

When I was in 7^th grade and attending bar/bat mitzvot every weekend, I had an impactful experience when my synagogue required us to take a year long class studying the Shoah.  For the next few years, I came to define Jewish identity as our duty to remember the six million, causing me to push aside all the lessons from the Tanach.  Later on in high school, especially in NFTY, I got a healthy dose of tikun olam, learning about the Jewish responsibility to repair our broken world and fight for social justice.

Now, years later as a Jewish history teacher at Heller High, I see firsthand when our students arrive that they are already well versed in tikun olam and Holocaust education.  I’m grateful that the Reform movement is excelling in these areas, and they are certainly essential to modern Jewish life.  However, it brings me back to the question of Jewish literacy.  Are we doing enough to engage on a daily basis with our ancient sources?

The Heller High Jewish history curriculum is designed to teach Judaism as a civilization over a four month semester in Israel.  On the first day of class I ask my students to nominate different moments that we might define as the beginning of Jewish history:  Creation, Abraham, 12 tribes, slavery, Mt. Sinai, King David, etc.  Some even suggest jumping ahead all the way to 1948.  There’s enough material for four months that comes from the modern period, so let’s just focus on the State of Israel.

Well, I explain to them, the Tanach is our owners manual.  If we want to operate this complex thing we call Jewish identity, it’s probably worth reading the instruction book.  When we open up the Tanach and read it class, we’re seeing and discussing these words for the first time as adults.  It’s not just a bunch of kids’ stories!  In Genesis 29, Jacob doesn’t lift up Leah’s veil to see he’s been tricked, he finds out when he sees her in bed the next morning!  For the first time our students read the stories of Judah and Tamar, and David and Bat-Sheva.  In the first two weeks of the curriculum, we endeavor to make the bible come to life, and understand it as the foundation of the Jewish people.

One of the more meaningful discussions we have, especially this time of year in Elul, is the meaning of tshuva.  We challenge our students to look at the behavior of Jacob, Moshe, Devorah, David, and Solomon and understand the essence of this concept, and why we demand it from our leaders both in ancient times and today.

Perhaps the most complex topic we teach when studying this time period is the idea of avoda zara, idolatry.  We see it at Tel Gezer where the Canaanites erected monoliths and an altar to make sacrifices to their gods.  We encounter it in the biblical book of Judges when the Israelites continually reject the God of Israel to worship the foreign deities Baal and Astarte.  We see it in artifacts uncovered in excavations at Ir David (the city of David) in Jerusalem, figurines of a fertility goddess that our ancestors prayed to.  Yes we teach what avoda zara means in the biblical context, but equally important is defining what that means today.  Is the one-dimensional pursuit of money and status avoda zara?  Is being on your iphone at the family dinner table avoda zara?  Is cyber-bullying a form of avoda zara?  Is a smoking addiction?  We don’t always come up with definitive answers, but it seems in a way that asking the question is more important.

There’s no question that studying the Tanach gives us a far better understanding of the modern State of Israel in which we see ourselves as the continuation of an ancient people in our homeland, speaking our ancient language.  A group of our students once summarized this is a letter they wrote at the end of the semester:

Every day in class we learned an immeasurable amount of history which we internalized as part of our identities.  Through the lessons, the history became a part of us as we began to see ourselves as part of the Jewish people.  Our tiyulim [field trips] tied us to the land even more, and we were able to connect the class lessons to the Land of Israel.  Before coming on this program we were distantly connected to the Jewish texts, and felt uncomfortable with the connection between the Tanach and the modern world.  However, we now see the relationship between our lives and this literature.  The Jewish people, faith, territory, and language have all greatly influenced our identities, creating an unbreakable chain between us and the Jewish literature of antiquity.  We are now able to understand how these texts have influenced Israel in today’s world, and created a resurgence of the Jewish culture in Eretz Yisrael.  This new awareness of our Judaism wouldn’t exist if it weren’t for the Jewish history class.

I am so grateful for the incredible opportunity to share with the students a love for Israel that is deeply rooted in the Hebrew Bible.  I learn as much from them as they do from me!

Tiyul to Ir David in Jerusalem

by Shay Orentlicher,     11^th grade,     Indianapolis

No teenager likes getting up extra early, but at Heller High, it tends to be worth it. When we stumbled out of bed at 6:25 am, it wasn’t an early wakeup for no reason; it meant that we would be going on a tiyul, or a fieldtrip, to Ir David that morning, with a packed schedule of learning and fun ahead of us. No matter how groggy I am or how many times I yawn, I know the excitement of the tiyul will energize me and get me ready for what is guaranteed to be an amazing morning.

For the first part of our morning tiyul, we split into our two Jewish History classes so our teachers could give us the day’s lessons in the sites where it all actually happened. We took notes on the story of King David while facing Area G, the remaining ruins of an ancient house that was under the palace. We learned about his complicated legacy while standing where he would have stood at some point, our cameras capturing the same views that he too once admired. Two students dressed up in costumes in a silly imitation of the biblical story of King David and Batsheva, right by the palace where that story actually took place. Learning about these ancient events where they actually took place provided a whole new layer of depth for me that even years of Jewish studies didn’t give me.

my classmates Ashley and Micah acting out the biblical story of David and Bat-Sheva

When I was standing on top of thousands of years of Jewish history in Jerusalem, it made it infinitely easier to understand why King David would want his capital there. Although part of me logically understood the political implications of a centralized capital that’s not in any tribe’s territory, another part of me was caught up in the holy feeling that also played a huge role: this was the place where the Temple was built, where its one remaining wall still stands. There’s something special about Jerusalem, and it’s particularly palpable in Ir David. It makes sense that King David could use such a city to unite the Jewish people into one kingdom, and it makes sense that this was where God would want the Temple to be built.

One thing in particular that stood out to me in our learning was the story of Batsheva. As a kid, I was taught sugarcoated versions of Jewish history. War and murder were glossed over, flawed Jewish figures were glorified, and everything was painted as relatively black and white. This story destroys that notion by breaking down one of the most revered figures in Jewish history in a story of him doing something awful. According to the book of Samuel II, he sleeps with Batsheva, a married woman, and when his attempts to pass off the child as her husband’s don’t work, he sends her husband to war so he will be killed. This attempt is successful, and as punishment, King David will not be the one to build the Temple, the child conceived from the affair will die, and David’s family will be plagued by scandal. King David is one of the greatest figures in Jewish history, and to see his worst flaws laid out before us like that was a complete shift in perspective for me. The notion of this man, who was supposed to be a great leader of the Jewish people and a follower of God, committing such a terrible deed destroys the pedestal I’d always imagined him on and makes him just like anyone else; human. His bad deed was more extreme than most, but then, so were his good deeds. More importantly, he did תשובה tshuva (repentance). Through the story of his sin, I was able to enrich my understanding of him and every other flawed Jewish figure.

Area G at Ir David with remains from the First Temple Period

After our lessons, we merged back into one group and went down to Hezekiah’s Tunnel. This tunnel was used to transport water into Jerusalem, and it now is open for tourists to walk through. The tunnel is a little over 500 meters long, with water up to the ankles most of the time. As we always do on tiyulim, we had plenty of fun with it, singing some of our favorite pop songs and laughing together as we made our way through the tunnel.

our Jewish history class emerges from walking through Hezekiah's water tunnel

Near the end of the tunnel, there was a plaque commemorating an amazing discovery in the place that it was found: a tablet written in ancient Hebrew that stated, “The tunneling was completed... While the hewers wielded the ax, each man toward his fellow... there was heard a man's voice calling to his fellow... the hewers hacked each toward the other, ax against ax, and the water flowed from the spring to the pool, a distance of 1,200 cubits...” This discovery provides historicity, or corroboration for what the Tanakh says. The Tanakh mentions this water system, and the ancient Hebrew text means that it was in fact real, a concept we’ve been focusing on a lot in our tiyulim to historical sites.

By the end of the tiyul, we were all thoroughly exhausted, but it had been an amazing experience. I felt like I had learned so much about King David, Jewish life in Jerusalem, and Jewish history in general. Even as I collapsed into my seat on the bus, I felt just as much accomplished as I did tired. From the lessons about King David and his mistakes to the exhausting ten-minute climb up a steep hill to get back to our bus from the tunnel, I’d been challenged to learn and grow in every aspect. It truly was a rewarding, eye-opening experience.

The lookout point at Ir David in Jerusalem with a view of the walls of the old city

(First Blog Entry of the 2019 Fall Semester)

Tiyul to Sataf JNF Park in Judean Mountains

by Daniel Wellerstein,     12^th grade,       Northern California

This past Wednesday we went on our Tiyul to Sataf, a JNF park with an ancient biblical farming village located just a short walk away from Kibbutz Tzuba where Heller High is. While there, we learned about the method of farming known as “terrace farming” where different levels of crops are separated by walls of small stones used for irrigating water. This allowed for an easily regulated amount of water trees without constant management. to flow down the levels and properly hydrate crops without rains and constant management.

classmates walking on an ancient agricultural terrace at Sataf JNF Park

During our first stop at Sataf, we read pages out of the book of Joshua in the Tanach, and learned about his siege on the city of Jericho to continue conquering the land of Israel. There, they were instructed by God to march around the city walls for six days, before the seventh when they would sound their shofars and the city’s walls would fall before them and allow them entry. Once inside they were told to slaughter the population, but leave just the concubine Rahab and her family, as she was the spy assigned to gather information for the Jewish people about the city. Following the book of Joshua, the book of Judges recounts the internal struggles of the Jewish people, and the problems in leadership they were dealing with. After Moses’ death, the issue of who should be the next person to lead the people came into question. We learned about the progression of the Israelite kings, specifically Saul and David. An important quote of our class was “yes repentance tshuva, no foreign worship,” which denounced the practice of idolatry amongst the Jews.

remains of an ancient village at Sataf that we "made fall" like the wall of Jericho.

At the second stop, we learned about the many different types of agriculture that were prevalent during the time (1200 BCE); those being: grapes, olives, dates, pomegranates, wheat, barley, and figs. Additionally, the Tanach recounts the “land of milk and honey,” but as we learned, the honey referred to in the phrase actually implies the honey of dates instead of bees. Moreover, the reason so many Israelites are said to have become farmers is due to the rain that is believed to have been the result of their prayer to the Canaanite god Baal. The heavy showers led to the theory that if trees had more water, they would produce much larger and better produce. This gave way to the addition of man-made water irrigation systems coming from a large cistern fed by a cave system.

Me with a water jerrycan and my classmate Gavin at Sataf JNF Park

At our third and final stop, we learned about the conquest of the Jewish people against the army of Sisera. Deborah, a prophet in the book of Judges, instructed Barak to lead a fight against a commander of the Canaanite army known as Sisera, as well as giving him knowledge of the 900 chariots of iron the Israelites would be struggling against. During the battle, Sisera fled away on his feet to the tent of Yael, the wife of Heber the Kenite, because there was peace between Sisera and Heber. In the night, while Sisera was asleep, Yael brought with her a mallet and tent spike and drove said spike into Sisera’s temple, killing him, and effectively winning the battle for the people of Israel. We were also given the opportunity to venture into the cave that the ancient Israelite farmers drew their water from.

My classmate Max inside the Sataf water cave (mayan in Hebrew)