Through the transformative processes within Sia’h Shalom, we are already tasting sustaining fruits—the sweetness of our highest hopes for life in Israel.
Parashat Shelach, the Promised Land, offers both fear and possibility. Ultimately, it is the spies’ self-view that defines their hopes for the future. At this pivotal moment, Israel has an opportunity to expand and deepen its self-understanding, to redefine its purpose and essence toward a vision which can sustain us in the future.
שְׁלַח־לְךָ אֲנָשִׁים וְיָתֻרוּ אֶת־אֶרֶץ כְּנַעַן אֲשֶׁר־אֲנִי נֹתֵן לִבְנֵי יִשְׂרָאֵל
Send agents to scout the land of Canaan which I am giving to the Israelite people.
—Numbers 13:2
In Shelach, this week’s parashah, 12 scouts—chieftains from each of the tribes—are sent to scope out the Promised Land, its bounty and the risks of entering and inhabiting this as yet-undiscovered place. The peoples’ questions are many: Who lives there? Are they mighty? What is the quality of the land? As a symbol of Cannan’s potential and abundance, the scouts bring back pomegranates and figs and a cluster of grapes, so heavy it must be carried on a frame held by two men. Yet, despite the land’s promise of milk and honey, the fears inspired by the scouting expedition receive the spotlight, crushing our people’s hopes for the future. The scouts report that the cities they beheld are large and fortified, the inhabitants so huge that:
וַנְּהִי בְעֵינֵינוּ כַּחֲגָבִים וְכֵן הָיִינוּ בְּעֵינֵיהֶם׃
“We looked like grasshoppers to ourselves and so we must have looked to them.”
—Numbers 13:33
The scouts’ report crushes hope for the future and inflames the people into a swirling panic. They go so far as to beg Moses and Aaron to return them to Egypt!
The dismay expressed in Shelach reflects aspects of the anguish and uncertainty we encounter at this pivotal moment in Israel. Like those ancient scouts, looking at Israel whether from within or from the vantage point of the diaspora, we too might feel small, insect-like, in the face of ominous challenges and menacing enemies (whoever we might perceive those enemies to be). From wherever we may be peeking into the land, from whatever perspective—geographic, political, religious—we, like the spies of our parashah, face a profound lack of clarity about what Israel’s next chapter may hold.
- Can a society so deeply divided create a future that allows space for the myriad of expressions of spiritual, secular and cultural life within Israel’s borders?
- Can Israel remain true to the ideals upon which it was established, and can we speak with clarity about the nature and application of those ideals?
- Are walls that divide segments of Israeli and Palestinian society too “fortified” as our parashah describes them, such that they have become insurmountable?
Like a grasshopper, we might wish to hop away (and swiftly!) from the challenges that simply seem too overwhelming.
However, for us—Tara and Meir—Sia’h Shalom sings with a voice of clarity and hope, with the vision of Joshua and Caleb, who unlike the nay-saying spies, implored the people not to see themselves as soon-to-be victims but instead to reflect upon themselves, each other and the Promised Land in a new way:
“The land that we traversed and scouted is an exceedingly good land. … God will bring us into that land, a land that flows with milk and honey, and give it to us; אַךְ בַּ-ה אַל־תִּמְרֹדוּ only you must not rebel against God. Have no fear then of the people of the country. … Have no fear of them!” (Numbers 14:6-9)
The words of Joshua and Caleb speak to the core emotion behind the people’s rebellion against God and against the future promised to them. It is the emotion of fear, the shrinking down of self to grasshopper size. Each of us knows how quickly shame, doubt and fear can overtake—all the more so in regions of war and conflict.
The beauty, essence and transformative power of the Sia’h Shalom experience is that it creates opportunities for Israeli and Palestinian leaders (“tribal chieftains,” to use the language of our parashah) to “scout out” the internal landscape of themselves and of others. Creating the sacred space for leaders to speak honestly about their most threatening pains and fears, ideals and core identities—this is the magic ingredient of the Sia’h Shalom experience. When we witness adversaries (even enemies) bringing their listening hearts, those impenetrable fortress walls can begin to soften, perhaps even to crumble, and trust becomes possible.
Sia’h Shalom helps every participant-leader go to the roots of “grasshopper-ness,” to the place of emotional and spiritual honesty. These roots are already giving birth to new dreams for Israel. Through the transformative processes within Sia’h Shalom, we are already tasting sustaining fruits, the sweetness of our highest hopes for life in Israel—the grapes, figs and pomegranates, the milk and honey of this sacred land.