On November 16th, two Israel Seminars ended: a regular seminar for graduates and students, and a Returnees Seminar, for those who wanted to revisit Israel with Melton, based on their loving the first, regular seminar.  

The regular seminar was attended by Melton students and graduates from 10 Mini-Schools and three continents, and had the most wonderful learning experience, coming out of the seminar on a high such as is rarely encountered. The seminar is entitled " Wrestling With the Angels", and covers three thousand years of Jewish history in the land.    

The second, Returnee, seminar is entitled "Altneuland Revisited", based on the title of Theodor Herzl's novel, envisioning what could be built in the land of Israel with a little inspiration. The seminar explores the narrative from Abraham's time on, but focusing on contemporary Israel.  

This November's returnee group was specially run at the request of the Kansas City Mini-School. Below are the reflections of one of the participants, which convey a little of the special learning dynamic of the seminar.  I believe that it is the soul-searching which Henri Goettel reflects which makes the seminar a unique experience, so much stronger than almost any other learning experience that one can go on. 

Haim Aronovitz

Director of Israel Seminars  

SUNRISE ON THE RETURNEES SEMINAR

by Henri Goettel, Overland Park, KS  

Sunrise over the Ramon Crater

The two seminars together create a most powerful understanding of the place of Israel in contemporary Jewish life, and should be on the agenda of every Melton graduate who enjoys rigorous but exhilirating and fun-filled travelling with like-minded adult learners      

It simply wouldn't be an Israel seminar with Haim unless it included a sunrise experience.This time, the sun rose over the crater at Mitzpeh Ramon on a crisp, crystal clear November morning. So tzipiti, I looked forward to the rising of the sun in the Negev.  The sky lightened and turned bright blue. But Haim's whistle to reassemble as a group caught me by surprise. Even though I'd been focused eastward, I hadn't yet seen the sun rise.  As soon as I stood up, I realized why.The sides of the mountain had hidden the sun from me as I sat in the crater.In our debrief, I said that I didn't know what that realization meant, or where it would take me.Now I understand.

I have spent two weeks examining Israel in the twenty-first century.The roller coaster I have ridden is well-represented by Nachal Tzin, the breathtaking peaks and depths of the canyon that David Ben Gurion guards from his final resting place.  I have soared with pride to see Israel's preeminence as a developer of new solar technologies; the dance of the robots at Warren Buffet's latest acquisition, Iscar; the magnificent symbolism of the structure housing the Israeli Supreme Court and the long-delayed appreciation for the meaning of democracy in both of my homelands; the exquisite care with which the staff at elem and misadah Lilit handcraft the future of every one of their teenagers at risk; the vision of Y'rucham's Michael Biton, himself so close to becoming another immigrant throw-away, and of Kahlil Elkorm, whose Beduin village doesn't even have a name; the commitment that teacher-soldiers Anna and Hilah display for the children in their care and the country they are raising.

And I have fallen into moments of despair over the dollars and efforts seemingly wasted in sh'chunat Hatikvah; the residents of Ein Hod who look out at their former homes only from a distance; the Ring Road that isn't, and the challenge of soldiering it together; the stark truth of Hanan Alexander's words--spoken just days after our own midterm elections--about the messiness of young democracies, and of Annette Young's description of the critical challenges facing journalists struggling to inform those of us who live in and with the mess.

So here is what I understand. I understand that the sun has already risen in this land that I love. It's shining brightly on the peaks, and it's slowly suffocating the valleys. And I can't afford to sit inside the crater any longer.  Yesh z'man lakum. It's time for me to stand up and move forward with the actions that I will take, must take. Two weeks ago you sat with me in the crater.  What will you do now?
 

             

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