Indigeneity does not only imply a people originating from a specific place; equally important is the emotional connection that exists between the people and their land. It is why Jews have yearned and worked to return to Israel for thousands of years. It is why Jews moved from the Diaspora to the modern state of Israel. It is why I cried when we touched down at Ben-Gurion Airport. Israel is our home.
To be a Jew in the Land of Israel is an incredible thing. We can live as masters of our own destiny, among our own people. As the Jewish hymn “Hine Ma Tov” tells us: “Behold how good and how pleasing for brothers to sit together in unity.” To simply be with fellow Jews is a powerful act of Jewishness. Spending time in Israel is to walk on the same land as our ancient ancestors from thousands of years ago.
Israel is the realization of the Jewish dream, which began 2,500 years ago when the Kingdom of Judah was destroyed by the Babylonians, and its literati exiled to Babylon. It was during that period of exile that Psalm 137 was written: “By the rivers of Babylon, there we sat down, yea, we wept, when we remembered Zion.”
Over the next 2,000 years, Jews returned to the land, regained and then lost sovereignty, and were ultimately exiled from Jerusalem. But the dream never ended. The work never ended. The Jewish yearning never ended, and Jews maintained a presence in the land and consistently returned to the land before the establishment of Israel. For me, to walk in their footsteps, or to walk on land they only dreamed of walking on, is an enormous privilege, and one that does not escape me.
The main aim of the trip was to spend time in Israel and to vacation. I was not there to work. So, basing ourselves in Tel Aviv, my partner and I ate in great restaurants, visited the Milk & Honey Distillery, ate at my brother-in-law’s restaurant, Night Kitchen, soaked up the environment, and tanned on the beach. It was wonderful, and truthfully, it is a city in which I would love to live one day.
The charm of Jerusalem
On the third day of our trip, we visited Jerusalem for a day. We spent time with friends, bought rogelach at Marzipan in Mahane Yehuda, and walked the streets of the “city of gold.” Having just written a book about Jewish indigeneity (to be published in February 2025), the historic sites in Israel are supremely moving to me. In my book, The Jews: An Indigenous People, I cover 1,300 years of Jewish history, a huge portion of it centered in Jerusalem, so visiting this ancient city was a powerful act of pilgrimage.
Walking through the winding streets of the Old City, we soon arrived at the Kotel. I had been there many times, but on this occasion, my sense of awe was renewed. This Western Wall of the second Jewish temple was built by King Herod. He renovated a previous version of the Second Temple, which stood on the same site as the First Temple. For hundreds of years, Jews made pilgrimages to this site on Rosh Hashanah, Passover, and Shavuot, and there I was, standing where they stood.
To gaze upon this huge limestone structure is to recognize the part each of us plays in the continuum that is Jewish history.
Jerusalem has been significant to Jewish life since it began. Our people are said to have emerged as a distinct ethnic group in the northern highlands of Jerusalem, 3,200 years ago. And here I was, a direct descendant of these ancient Israelites, retracing their steps in our ancient, and contemporary, capital city.
After our day in Jerusalem, we took the train back to Tel Aviv. The following days were spent with family and friends, eating, sunbathing, swimming, and getting my first Hebrew tattoo. It was a perfect holiday, if not too short.
Israel, a home
As a writer and public intellectual focusing on Jewish history and identity, I thought deeply about this trip and what it meant to me, especially given it was my first time in the land since October 7, a date now seared into our collective consciousness. Simply, I felt that I was home.
That is not to say that life in Israel is without complications or difficulties. The murder of 12 Druze children in Majdal Shams was a horrendous crime perpetrated by Hezbollah, and we joined with the rest of Israel in mourning them and standing with their community in their grief. We also celebrated for the country when Shukr, Hezbollah’s most senior military commander, and Haniyeh, the Hamas mastermind of October 7, were assassinated. In mourning and in jubilation, I stood as one with my people in our land.
Clearly, the core of my identity – you might call this my soul – connects primarily to Israel. Despite the impending war, I feel peaceful. I feel at ease. I feel safe. And that is a beautiful thing and something I can never take for granted.
As a gay person, I know all too well how important the search for belonging and community is. But as a Jew, I have it. I belong to Israel, and my people are the Jews. And for that, I am blessed.
The writer is the founder of the modern Jewish Pride movement, an educator, and the author of Jewish Pride: Rebuilding a People and Reclaiming Our Story: The Pursuit of Jewish Pride.