Building Our Home

On June 7, 1967, Israeli troops climbed the steep path toward the Old City, then under the control of Jordanian forces, and stormed through the city’s Zion Gate, finally making their way to the Western Wall. There the soldiers sang Hatikvah, prayed and cried. The Kotel, and the Jewish Quarter, the entire Old City and East Jerusalem were now, at long last, under Jewish control. 

And yet even though I often go the Wall and touch the stones erected thousands of years ago by our Jewish ancestors when they built the Temple, and wander the narrow streets of the Old City, often stopping for a Turkish coffee in the Muslim Quarter, the spot that continues to take my breath away is not in the East but in the West. After ascending this steep path, lined with fragrant rosemary bushes, I turn around and look to the valley below.

There, in the distance, with the Old City behind me, and atop another hill is Yemin Moshe, the first Jewish settlement built outside the city’s walls. And then, filling every view, are the new buildings, hotels, and apartments, that comprise West Jerusalem. I think to myself. “There was little here seventy-five years ago. And now hundreds of thousands of people call these neighborhoods home.” 

In that moment, the controversies that are an ever-present part of what lies behind me, seem to fade into the distance. I cannot see from this spot the security fence, and wall, that separates the West Bank from Jerusalem. 

I see only the new. I take in only the potential. 

The dream is real. The prayers have been realized.

We have returned to this place. We have built a home. 

Of course, our return, and our building of this home, have been challenging, and at times imperfect. Our settling has unsettled others. And yet, in that moment, I see only perfection—or perhaps the reaching for perfection. 

What an extraordinary blessing it is to live in this time and at this moment. There is a sovereign State of Israel.

Later, I will argue about its pitfalls and its current struggles. For now, after reaching these heights and catching my breath, I will take in the scent of rosemary and revel in the sight of what has been created.

Our hope is not yet lost,

It is two thousand years old,

To be a free people in our own land,

The land of Zion and Jerusalem.