If you would have heard me say, about a year ago, “Until 120,” you might not have known that it referred to something other than a wish for long life. That is because I was searching for my soul mate and getting rather weary. Most of my dates were coming from the two Israeli dating sites I had joined. Many evenings I would closet myself by the computer and tell my friends I was going “shopping,” that is, navigating the dating sites to see whom I could get a date with. The sites have more than 40,000 members, so choices were plentiful. The problem was that, although many guys I met really were suitable, I had also encountered a fair number of disappointing dates.

Banners festoon the streets of Yerushalayim and flap in the wind, borne aloft by the hands of the youth, whose hearts beat in fervent loyalty to their chosen party. It is election day for the second time now in this storm-tossed State of Israel, and tensions are high. Music blasts from the amp speakers of a kid on a bike, trying to broadcast his political message to the crowds heading for the voting booths. It feels like Yom Ha’atzmaut! For we are one nation, albeit split into various camps: rightwing, leftwing, religious, secular, each one fighting for a voice in the Knesset, a voice to establish the law of the Land according the the truth that emanates within each one’s heart. How will we ever unite?

Treading on ancient cobblestone roads, one enters the imposing Sha’ar Yafo, Jaffa Gate, into Jerusalem of Old. The sun shimmers off the stone walls, enveloping you in gold: the fabled Yerushalayim shel Zahav, Jerusalem of Gold. Within these magnificent walls live thousands of Jews, Muslims, and Christians. For the past few years, I have been privileged to know one special family, originally from America, who requested to remain anonymous. I will call them Family L.

Watching the sunset from a lookout near Bat Ayin, a small yishuv in Gush Etzion, I was overcome by the sheer beauty of the landscape. Below me, the red-roofed homes of the yishuv were arrayed against the colorful hues of the sky, and in the distance, other yishuvim lay scattered among the brush-covered hilltops. On the horizon, the waters of the Mediterranean Sea sparkled.

I was on an outing in Gush Etzion, sweet memories floating in my mind of when I had called this place home. What an incredible zechut (privilege) it is to live and breathe the air of our holy land. In fact, in this week’s parsha, Va’etchanan, the tremendous importance of Eretz Yisrael is conveyed by the 515 prayers of Moshe Rabbeinu as he pleaded with Hashem to enter the Land. Now, having finished the Three Weeks of mourning over the Beit Hamikdash’s destruction and our national exile, let’s take its message to heart. The initial cause that led to this catastrophic period was the negative reports of the Spies upon their return from Eretz Yisrael. Let us correct that disastrous mistake by sharing some holy highlights of real life in Israel in our times.

After two years of living in Eretz Yisrael, a man came back to his Rebbe, who asked him about his experience living there. The man started by describing how beautiful and amazing it was, and then continued by saying how there was only one thing: the Arabs and how horrible they are, how they torture the Jews. The Rebbe stopped the chasid and announced that he didn’t want to hear any more. The Rebbe described how this was the very speech of the meraglim (Spies); they also came back to Am Yisrael and reported how the land was great...but the people were terrible. “Don’t criticize Eretz Yisrael at all, ever!” said the Rebbe.

On a bright Tuesday morning, not too long ago, I heard this story repeated in a shiur in the Rova (the Jewish Quarter in the Old City of Jerusalem) from Rebbetzin Malka Twerski Friedman, the Hornisteipol Rebbetzin. A surprising story, many of us in the audience thought. Isn’t that too extreme? How can one not speak out against the Arab terrorists in Eretz Yisrael?! Rebbetzin Friedman went on to explain that if the conversation fits under constructive speech: as a warning to someone, for instance, or to relieve an emotional burden, or to update others of the news so they can daven for the safety of Jews living in Israel, then it’s permissible. However, simply to chatter negatively about any facet of Eretz Yisrael is forbidden. “Eretz Yisrael has such kedusha (holiness),” Rebbetzin Friedman explained, “it has such a direct line to Hashem. He has such a special Eye on this Land. It’s not like chutz la’aretz (outside of Israel), where there are all kinds of mediaries that come between Hashem and the shefa (bounty) of the land. This is ‘Einei Hashem Elokecha Ba,’ the Eyes of Hashem are focused on it...total concentration, on Eretz Yisrael.”

So often, we read the latest news about Eretz Yisrael – whether political, social, or religious – or perhaps we are listening to someone share about a trip in Israel, and of course there are wonderful things to say. But then the conversation begins to shift and negative episodes surface, said either jokingly or critically, even when describing the weather. We are so used to freely speaking and sharing our experiences that we have to muster the ability to pause and swing into full gear when speaking about Eretz Yisrael, and remember to mention only its beauty. And that’s what I call, the real deal about Eretz Yisrael.”

Imagine the challenge of learning a foreign language with its strange vocabulary, grammar rules, and idioms. Picture the struggle of moving to a new country and navigating an unfamiliar culture. Now, visualize an adult entering the Yam shel Torah, the “Ocean of Torah,” striving mightily to plumb the depths of the ancient Jewish religion with all its observances and intricate laws while also trying to figure out the subtle social nuances of frum society.

My involvement in Midreshet B’erot Bat Ayin, a women’s Torah study program in Gush Etzion, grants me the privilege of getting to know several converts and students studying for conversion. These women, from an array of nationalities, chose to leave their families, lifestyles, religions, and countries and travel to Eretz Yisrael to embrace the path of Torah. They were led by their strong desire and inner conviction, although they were under no obligation whatsoever. Meet the world of gerei tzedek, righteous converts, who undergo a complete changeover to pursue the truth. I share the story of one such woman, Amber, in hopes that it will inspire each of us to appreciate the privilege we have to be part of the am segula.  

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