What an exciting "bulletin" article this is for me as I am writing it from my hotel room in Jerusalem. I’ve been in Israel for barely 24 hours and it has already been quite a wonderful experience for me! It really has me contemplating the meaning of "home." Our trip actually started out with a very interesting event. We had just boarded our plane in Detroit for the first leg of our journey when we saw a group of four people escorting a woman in shackles onto the plane. We quickly realized that she was being deported – to what country, I don’t know. To say that this woman was not going willingly would be an understatement. In fact, from the moment they entered the plane, she refused to walk willingly and began screaming about how the government was forcing her to leave her home in order to go back to the country from which she originally came. I’m sure that in immigration’s eyes, they were actually sending her "home." Although I have no idea what this woman did or didn’t do, I felt sorry for her. The country that she considers home apparently doesn’t want her … and the country that the US considers her "home" isn’t wanted by her. It is not a situation I would wish on anyone.

Then, once our trip got on its way, I began comparing that to everything I was experiencing. Of course, we were leaving our home in West Bloomfield as well … traveling some 6,000 miles to a place I’ve never been to. But somehow, I knew that my trip would be very different from the woman’s on that initial Delta flight. My thinking was confirmed as our plane touched down in Tel Aviv some 11 hours after we left U.S. soil in Detroit. The moment we landed, after saying a quiet Shehecheyanu to myself, a tear came to my eye. I had never been to Israel before … and yet, I somehow felt like I had arrived home.

Today, we spent most of the day in the Old City. We just got back to our hotel from the Kotel (the Western Wall) from the first of two visits there today. In this first visit, Josh and I donned our tallit and tefillin, grabbed a siddur, and prayed with a spiritual feeling I have not felt before and cannot put into words. This was very much another homecoming of sorts. I had, again, never been to this most holy site in Judaism and yet felt right at home walking up to the wall, gently touching it, and praying. I also have to admit that another tear came to my eye as I was quietly absorbing this spiritual place and activity. Soon, after a short rest, we will be returning to the Kotel to participate in, what I’m sure will be, an amazing Kabbalat Shabbat Service.

We still have a full week ahead of us here in Israel. On Sunday, we leave Jerusalem to go climb Masada and then float in the Dead Sea. After that, it’s a trip to the Galilee and Golan Heights. Finally, it’s back to Tel Aviv and the Mediterranean Coast for a final Shabbat in Israel and a long trip "home."

Somehow, I can already tell that our trip home will be bittersweet. Ten days is a long time to be away from our home and from work (not to mention missing two Shabbatot at B’nai Moshe - my second home). But, I know that I will also feel like I’m leaving home … leaving a country that will welcome me at any time … and leaving a history that’s as much a part of me as my own personal history back in Michigan. If you haven’t had the chance to visit Israel on your own, I strongly urge you to consider joining the cantor’s trip here next fall. I’m confident that you’ll discover, just as I did, that your home is more than the place you pay your mortgage.