Friday, September 19, 2003
Sparks From Israel
The Final Revolution
Like the Dharma Bums of another generation the truth seekers of today tramp from yishuv to yishuv with a book of Tehillim in their bag and a Dhjarbuka drum slung over their shoulder. These are the new generation of ‘revolutionaries’ and poets that have dropped out of the western world, to join the Final Revolution - the oldest one of all. What is the battle? What is the protest? Where is the war? How big is the revolutionary army, and what are the forces that seek to crush it?
Well, on one side is the whole world, the United Nations, 100 armies ready to destroy once and for all that tiny little nation that refused to be baptised. And on the other side is a Jewish shepherd playing his lute, putting on his tefillin, and building his house. Although there are no neighbors for miles and thousands of dunams of open fields bequeathed to this tiny Nation as an inheiritance, a shepperd building a small home is cause for the United Nations to have an emergency meeting and for the army of mice to come with handcuffs to prove to the cats that they too are against this mans hammer. But all the kings horses and all the kings men cannot stop the tide from turning under them, and the tide is indeed turning and Israel continues to be built.
Just as Israel came into being despite the abandonment of the world, and the betrayal of many good Jews by our own mixed multitudes, so too do the hills of Judea and Shomron nurture the future kings and scholars that wander from town to town without any fear. These kind and simple souls who have returned to till the land of their forefathers, are oblivious to the ranting and ravings of a world that despises their existence. They hitch a ride to a spring in the mountain where many meet and camp, or to a festival where thousands dance and beat their drums until they fall asleep under the stars.
This is a quiet revolution of the children of prophets sitting on hilltops and studying the books their fathers left them. This is the final evolution of the Jew, who resembles the original Jew surviving each day by manna falling from heaven. Whether one observes the laws of the Torah or not, all have a connection to this Holy Land, and all can see the Hand of G-d in whatever they do. These young men and women who are building the Nation are the hero’s and the spirit that is keeping the Zionist dream alive. The original Zion, that shone forth from Mount Zion.
The Final Revolution
Like the Dharma Bums of another generation the truth seekers of today tramp from yishuv to yishuv with a book of Tehillim in their bag and a Dhjarbuka drum slung over their shoulder. These are the new generation of ‘revolutionaries’ and poets that have dropped out of the western world, to join the Final Revolution - the oldest one of all. What is the battle? What is the protest? Where is the war? How big is the revolutionary army, and what are the forces that seek to crush it?
Well, on one side is the whole world, the United Nations, 100 armies ready to destroy once and for all that tiny little nation that refused to be baptised. And on the other side is a Jewish shepherd playing his lute, putting on his tefillin, and building his house. Although there are no neighbors for miles and thousands of dunams of open fields bequeathed to this tiny Nation as an inheiritance, a shepperd building a small home is cause for the United Nations to have an emergency meeting and for the army of mice to come with handcuffs to prove to the cats that they too are against this mans hammer. But all the kings horses and all the kings men cannot stop the tide from turning under them, and the tide is indeed turning and Israel continues to be built.
Just as Israel came into being despite the abandonment of the world, and the betrayal of many good Jews by our own mixed multitudes, so too do the hills of Judea and Shomron nurture the future kings and scholars that wander from town to town without any fear. These kind and simple souls who have returned to till the land of their forefathers, are oblivious to the ranting and ravings of a world that despises their existence. They hitch a ride to a spring in the mountain where many meet and camp, or to a festival where thousands dance and beat their drums until they fall asleep under the stars.
This is a quiet revolution of the children of prophets sitting on hilltops and studying the books their fathers left them. This is the final evolution of the Jew, who resembles the original Jew surviving each day by manna falling from heaven. Whether one observes the laws of the Torah or not, all have a connection to this Holy Land, and all can see the Hand of G-d in whatever they do. These young men and women who are building the Nation are the hero’s and the spirit that is keeping the Zionist dream alive. The original Zion, that shone forth from Mount Zion.
Comments:
Post a Comment
