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By Arlene Bridges Samuels

Long before Ellis Island became the gateway to America, Haym Salomon, a Jewish immigrant, fled from the political unrest and violence in his native Poland. He settled in New York in the early 1770s and set up a brokerage business that included foreign securities. To protest the British, Solomon joined the Sons of Liberty (perhaps best known today for their role in the Boston Tea Party) and built relationships with George Washington and other leaders in colonial America. While information about this remarkable man is somewhat limited, it has not stopped the legends about his short life (1740-1785). But one fact is certain: He helped finance America’s Revolutionary War (1775-1783). And his vital assistance to the colonies would prove to be a precursor to modern, reciprocally beneficial connections between the U.S. and Israel.

Salomon’s patriotism led him to spy on behalf of his new homeland. He was arrested several times and later imprisoned. However, since he spoke several languages, the British paroled him; they needed his services as a translator for their German-allied troops. Covertly urging the German mercenaries to desert, Salomon was sentenced to hang, yet escaped to Philadelphia. He joined Mikveh Israel Synagogue—known as the “Synagogue of the American Revolution in Philadelphia”—and rebuilt his successful business. He also married, and his new brother-in-law was a lieutenant colonel on George Washington’s staff.

During the Revolutionary War, the businessman gave varying amounts of money—totaling hundreds of thousands of dollars in today’s money—to the cause. He made loans to such leaders as James Madison and Thomas Jefferson, and his philanthropy was well known. 

Salomon’s significance during America’s War of Independence is highlighted in a famous request in 1781. As the story goes, the Continental Army was preparing for the most critical battle of the war in Yorktown, Virginia. After five long years of fighting, food, clothing, and weapons were scarce. Desperately needing money for the war effort, General George Washington sent urgent word to Robert Morris, Director of the Treasury of the Continental Congress.  

Morris relayed a message back telling Washington, “We are broke.” 

Washington directed Morris, “Send for Haym Salomon.” 

Morris hurriedly went to Salomon’s synagogue even though it was Yom Kippur, Judaism’s holiest day of the year, their day of repentance. One of the synagogue members challenged Salomon’s agreeing to help on this most solemn of days. Salomon’s response was, “It is for the cause.” 

Two hundred and forty years have passed since the decisive Battle of Yorktown, where British General Cornwallis surrendered. Yet Haym Salomon has been remembered as an American Jewish hero for many years afterward. In 1939, a major motion picture studio brought out a biopic about Salomon, titled The Sons of Liberty. In its catalog, Warner Brothers described the movie: “The story of the unselfish loyalty and devotion of Haym Salomon (Claude Rains) to General Washington and the fight for freedom in the American Revolution are told in a forceful and rousing way.”

And, although Jews’ contributions are rarely included in students’ history texts, young readers’ “trade books” about American heroes like Patrick Henry and Daniel Boone also include Jewish heroes, and Salomon was certainly included in these.

A 1975 commemorative stamp issued by the U.S. Post Office described Salomon this way: “Financial Hero—businessman and broker Haym Salomon was responsible for raising most of the money needed to finance the American Revolution and later to save the new nation from collapse.” 

Mr. Salomon did not live to read the fine letter that George Washington, the general who later became President, wrote in August 1790 to the Jewish community of Newport, Rhode Island. The Jewish patriot would have rightly felt pride in Washington’s 340-word letter. 

In part it read, “May the children of the stock of Abraham, who dwell in this land, continue to merit and enjoy the good will of the other inhabitants; while everyone shall sit in safety under his own vine and fig tree, and there shall be none to make him afraid” (the latter portion of the sentence includes a clear reference to Micah 4:4). Washington’s letter also said, “For happily the Government of the United States, which gives to bigotry no sanction, to persecution no assistance requires only that they who live under its protection should demean themselves as good citizens, in giving it on all occasions their effectual support.”

On President’s Day last Monday, I reflected on all that President George Washington had done for his country. Like most Americans, I hold him in the highest esteem. In learning about his respect for the Jewish communities in the colonies and now Haym Salomon, the “financial hero,” I am inspired by both leaders as examples for mutually beneficial ties today. In two different yet essential ways, General Washington’s leadership—and the security aid that Haym Salomon generously provided from his personal wealth—ensured our freedom as a nation.

Today, the United States provides security aid for Israel with a long-standing commitment from the U.S. Congress on both sides of the aisle. It’s a win-win for both nations, with multiple mutual benefits. Also known as foreign aid, generally speaking the monetary issue though can be controversial for some Americans when it comes to multiple countries, whether military or economic aid. 

According to polls, Americans believe we spend a whopping 25% of our federal budget on foreign aid—which is completely false. The truth is that total foreign aid comprises only 1% of our federal budget. (Israel receives approximately 0.01% of that.) Some of our foreign aid is problematic, but not when it comes to Israel, especially among millions of pro-Israel American evangelicals. Israel’s Prime Minister, Benjamin Netanyahu, often comments, “Israel will defend itself, by itself.” It’s clear that Israel does not want American boots on the ground. But our security aid—financial aid—is much needed by the only democracy in the Middle East. 

For instance, due to Israel’s considerable need for defense, their expenditures are 5.7% of their Gross Domestic Product (GDP). That’s a high percentage, higher than that of any other industrialized country. Our security aid to Israel has increased in keeping with the huge increase in terror attacks against Israel.  

Beginning under President Bill Clinton, Congress agreed on a ten-year “Memorandum of Understanding” (MOU) that has continued through the Bush, Obama, and Trump administrations. It may sound excessive, but the first agreement committed to $21.3 billion portioned out over 10 years. Each MOU has seen an increase. In 2016 the new agreement was renegotiated, providing $38 billion from fiscal year 2019 to 2028. Congress re-examines and votes on the MOU each year. The billions do not land in Israeli banks unmonitored. In fact, 75% of the funds stay in the United States, helping to employ Americans in our factories that make military equipment.  

The Congressional Research Service annually reports the highly detailed—and closely monitored—financial and accountability measures for our foreign aid to Israel. Their 2020 report notes: “The Trump Administration requested $3.3 billion in FMF [Foreign Military Financing] for Israel and $500 million for missile defense aid to mark the second year of the MOU. The Administration also requested $5 million in Migration and Refugee Assistance humanitarian funding for migrants to Israel.” 

For those wondering how the U.S. benefits from such generosity, it’s important for Americans to understand how the security aid we provide Israel helps us, in turn. Israel provides us with significant intelligence sharing, military cooperation and training, counterterrorism knowledge, and our own homeland security. The value of their contributions to our country is impossible to estimate. Nevertheless, it’s safe to say our security aid is worth every penny and more. Our alliance with Israel makes us stronger and safer. Even without American boots on the ground, the benefits protect American lives at home and abroad. 

Here are some examples of how this win-win relationship benefits the U.S. First of all, Israel has designed a system to detect underground tunnels. We now collaborate on this system, which we can apply to tunnels at our own southern border. Secondly, Israel’s technology and expertise make our airports more safe and secure. As a world leader in counterterrorism and emergency response, Israel helps train American first-responders and counterterrorism officials. Another benefit relates to direct help for our military serving overseas in that part of the world: the United States has $3.4 billion in weapons and equipment stored in Israel—the War Reserves Stock. If our troops need those supplies, they can quickly get them. The Israel Defense Forces (IDF) may also access this stockpile in an emergency, U.S. authorization permitting. 

As mentioned earlier, foreign aid is another way to support Israel—a tangible expression that saves Israeli lives and protects our own citizens. Foreign aid decisions begin in the U.S. House Appropriations Committee, the birthplace of foreign aid in general. In the 117th Congress, the committee has 33 Democrats and 26 Republicans. Both Jews and Christians—and now one Muslim—discuss and make the decisions. When it comes to Israel, the committee has a track record of support from both Democrats and Republicans. 

Join CBN Israel this week in our prayers to thank God and the majority of the U.S. Congress for their historic, consistent security aid to Israel:

• Pray that the U.S. Congress will maintain a majority of votes for Israel’s security aid and other related legislation.
• Pray that our multi-level cooperation with Israel will increase even more to benefit both our nations and citizens. 
• Pray that more Americans will become active with their members of Congress to ask for their support for the U.S.-Israel relationship. 
• Pray that Christians will not be apathetic; that we will stop anti-Semitism from spreading in small and big ways.

As we pray with and for Israel this week, let’s remember that Christians in the U.S. have a critical role to play in supporting the modern State of Israel—not only our prayers, but through our financial support and our vigilance in detecting signs of anti-Semitism and calling them out.  

Perhaps nothing could speak to this mutually beneficial relationship more eloquently than the bronze sculpture titled “The Great Triumvirate of Patriots ” that stands in Chicago’s Heald Square. Dedicated in 1941, the 11-foot-tall statue features three leaders standing hand in hand: General George Washington, Robert Morris, and Haym Salomon. Flanking General Washington, Morris and Salomon are described on a plaque as “the two principal financers of the American Revolution.” In light of Haym Salomon’s support of the American colonies—helping us shake off the British yoke and forge a strong nation—let us look forward to our continued help and support of Israel in the years ahead.

Arlene Bridges Samuels pioneered Christian outreach for the American Israel Public Affairs Committee (AIPAC). After she served nine years on AIPAC’s staff, International Christian Embassy Jerusalem USA engaged her as Outreach Director part-time for their project, American Christian Leaders for Israel. Arlene is now an author at The Blogs-Times of Israel and has traveled to Israel 25 times. She co-edited The Auschwitz Album Revisited by Artist Pat Mercer Hutchens and sits on the board of Violins of Hope South Carolina. Arlene has attended Israel’s Government Press Office Christian Media Summit three times and hosts her devotionals, The Eclectic Evangelical, on her website at ArleneBridgesSamuels.com.

What if you saw your entire year’s income disappear in minutes? For the last two years, this has been the plight of Israeli farmers living near Gaza. Enemies across the border have been launching fire kites and balloons that burn their crops rapidly and threaten Israel’s food supply. 

This latest terrorism has communities in a constant state of anxiety and high alert, even as these terror devices also threaten to destroy schools and homes. Meanwhile, Israeli volunteers and first responders, like Ilan, risk their lives to fight these fires and minimize damage. 

Ilan is head of security for areas closest to the Israeli border, working with 20 security coordinators responsible for the villages they live in. Every day, they put themselves in danger to keep their towns safe. Yet, they also struggle to afford vital firefighting gear and supplies. 

But CBN Israel has become a faithful source of needed aid to Ilan and his brave team. We delivered a costly top-of-the-line fire suppressant, which mixes with water to stop fires instantly, and prevents them from restarting. Plus, we provided state-of-the-art firefighting equipment, so they can safely battle blazes. And we are hosting emergency training for communities, as well as trauma counseling and assistance for terror victims. 

Ilan is so grateful, saying, “I can’t thank you enough for all that you have done!” And CBN Israel is touching lives in the Holy Land in so many other ways. We are offering food, housing, financial help, and essentials to those in need. 

Your support can offer a lifeline to so many, especially during this pandemic. You can offer aid to Holocaust survivors, refugees, and young families. Please join us in blessing Israel today!

GIVE TODAY

By Marc Turnage

The land of Israel did not merely provide the stage upon which biblical events too place, its flora, fauna, climate, and geology provide the images, metaphors, and vocabulary that biblical writers used frequently to communicate their message whether in narrative, poetry, or prophecy.

There are places within Israel today where one can stand within the geography used by the biblical writers and feel and hear, within the setting, the message they sought to communicate. The Dan Spring is one of those places.

The spring acquires its name from the biblical site of Dan, the northernmost city within biblical Israel. Located at the base of the foothills of Mount Hermon, it provides the largest of the three springs whose tributaries come together south of the site of Dan to form the Jordan River.

The Dan Spring produces roughly 240 million cubic meters per year. With such a large amount of water coming from the spring, especially in the winter and spring of the year when the rains and snowmelt add to it, the sound of the Dan tributary roars as it flows towards the meeting point to form the Jordan.

The psalmists use this setting and the sound created by the waters in a couple places. Psalm 29 proclaims: “The voice of the LORD is over the waters; the God of glory thunders, the LORD, over mighty waters. The voice of the LORD is powerful; the voice of the LORD is full of majesty. The voice of the LORD breaks the cedars; the LORD breaks the cedars of Lebanon. He makes Lebanon skip like a calf, and Sirion like a young wild ox. The voice of the LORD flashes forth flames of fire. The voice of the LORD shakes the wilderness; the LORD shakes the wilderness of Kadesh. The voice of the LORD causes the oaks to whirl, and strips the forest bare; and in his temple all say, “Glory!” The LORD sits enthroned over the flood; the LORD sits enthroned as king forever. May the LORD give strength to his people! May the LORD bless his people with peace!” (29:2-9).

The highlighted bold type shows the psalmist’s use of the waters of the Dan spring to describe the voice and glory of the Lord. How do we know he meant the Dan Spring? Because of the geographic detail provided, which is italicized. These locations—Lebanon, Sirion, and Kadesh—surround the northern area of Israel and the Dan Spring.

When the psalmist listened to the raging waters of the spring and its tributary, he found himself moved to comparison with the voice and glory of the Lord. He communicated his message through the physical setting of the Dan Spring and the surrounding countryside.

In Psalm 42, we find another use of the Dan Spring for the psalmist’s poetry: “As a deer longs for flowing streams, so my soul longs for you, O God. My soul thirsts for God, for the living God. When shall I come and behold the face of God? … My soul is cast down within me; therefore I remember you from the land of Jordan and of Hermon, from Mount Mizar. Deep calls to deep at the thunder of your cataracts; all your waves and your billows have gone over me” (42:1-7).

The psalmist begins by likening his desire for God to a deer craving the streams of water from springs, like the Dan. Although lush with vegetation, the summer heat and humidity of the region of the Dan Spring is difficult for animals and humans. He finds himself in the region of the Dan Spring (the italicized portions) and feels overwhelmed with the roar of the gushing spring.

Traveling to the land of Israel is more than visiting sites. It should transform how we read and interact with the physical reality of the land of the Bible.

Marc Turnage is President/CEO of Biblical Expeditions. He is an authority on ancient Judaism and Christian origins. He has published widely for both academic and popular audiences. His most recent book, Windows into the Bible, was named by Outreach Magazine as one of its top 100 Christian living resources. Marc is a widely sought-after speaker and a gifted teacher. He has been guiding groups to the lands of the Bible—Israel, Jordan, Egypt, Turkey, Greece, and Italy—for over twenty years.

Website: WITBUniversity.com
Facebook: @witbuniversity
Podcast: Windows into the Bible Podcast

“For thus says the high and lofty one who inhabits eternity, whose name is Holy: I dwell in the high and holy place, and also with those who are contrite and humble in spirit, to revive the spirit of the humble, and to revive the heart of the contrite” (Isaiah 57:15 RSV).

The dissonance of this verse is astounding! The God who dwells in the highest heaven, who inhabits eternity, also resides with the contrite and humble of spirit.

Why does He dwell there? To revive them. To lift them up. It seems impossible to imagine that the King of the universe dwells with the contrite and humble.

Within the ancient world, the gods were capricious, caring about their sacrifices and the mighty; human morality did not move the gods. Neither did human poverty. The God of the Bible is fundamentally different.

The suffering, the poor, those on the fringe of society—He identified with them. The mighty, He cast down; the proud, He resisted. The contrite, He revives their heart. The humble, He revives their spirit.

The economy of God’s kingdom turns the normal order of things upside down. He often values what others overlook or despise, and He despises what we tend to value.

The Hebrew word translated as “contrite” literally means “crushed.” Those who are crushed. The God who inhabits eternity dwells among those who feel crushed.

The structure of the verse indicates that the crushed and contrite are also the humble in spirit. The “humble in spirit” doesn’t merely mean those who are humble; it carries with it the sense of those whose spirits are low, depressed. Have you been there? The God of the universe dwells with you.

Our weakness does not hinder or prevent God’s presence. His greatness does not distance Him from our brokenness. Rather, He dwells with us there. He does not leave us there; His presence comes to revive us.

PRAYER

Father, You dwell in eternity, yet You reside with us in our brokenness to revive us. How great are You, O Lord! Amen.

By Mark Gerson

The parsha (Torah portion) we Jews read last week in synagogue was about the greatest moment in the history of humankind: when God gave the Ten Commandments (and, according to some scholars, the entire Torah) to Moses at Mount Sinai. It was such a dramatic moment that the people “saw the sounds.” They—we—were so overwhelmed, our senses were discombobulated to the point where sounds became objects of sight. Moreover, the sound of the trumpet became “continually louder”—when in reality, of course, sounds soften after reaching their peak.

What would we imagine, then, that this parsha be named? Perhaps for the Ten Commandments, perhaps for Moses, perhaps for Sinai. One would think the greatest moment in all of humankind would be worthy of a parsha title in the Bible.

But that is not what the Author of the Torah did. He named this parsha “Jethro,” after Moses’ father-in-law. The fact that the character of Jethro receives a distinction that the Torah does not, and that Moses does not, leads us to ask: What is so special about Jethro and what can we learn from him?

The first thing we are told about Jethro in this parsha is that he is a “priest of Midian.” He is a Gentile. We are soon informed that Jethro “heard everything that God had done for Moses and for his people Israel.” Jethro would have heard about the Exodus along with everyone else in the world. The news may have taken longer to travel then than it does now, but everyone would have known that God had freed the Jewish slaves from the grip of the most important empire in the world, Egypt.

Yet Jethro is the one person who genuinely heard. He was moved by what he learned, and as such did not treat it as an abstract news event, but rather as cause to do something. And he did something bold and courageous. He went to visit Moses in the desert.

One might ask: What is courageous about visiting one’s son-in-law? It becomes somewhat clearer when we read, in Exodus 18:2, that Zipporah ( Jethro’s daughter) “had been sent away.” This is, as the Hebrew scholar Nehemia Gordon notes, the ancient expression for divorce. And the rupture in the relationship between Moses and his family becomes even clearer when Jethro finds Moses in the camp.

“I, your father-in-law Jethro, have come to you with your wife and her two sons with her.” Her two sons—Gershon and Eliezer. Their father was Moses. Yet Jethro identifies the boys as “her” two sons. This is not a snarky insult, but a profound statement about the nature of Jewish parenthood. Judaism does not consider parenthood to be a biological phenomenon but a deeply moral and substantive set of obligations and responsibilities. That is why Judaism considers grandparenthood to be akin to parenthood, as grandparents assume the responsibility of transmission along with the parents. Moses has not earned the designation “father” and he does not even attempt a rebuttal.

What is Jethro thinking at this point? We are not told, which is not surprising. The Torah does not generally grant us entry into the inner lives or intimate feelings of its characters. We observe actions and try to intuit what must have driven and motivated them. But as usual in the Torah, we are given enough to come to a reasonable conclusion. Moses had abandoned his family. He, with God’s help, had led the world’s first slave rebellion and had defeated the most powerful empire in the world. All other conquerors had used their victory to augment their power.

Jethro, like all people on all journeys (whether to the supermarket or the Promised Land), must have been imagining something. What could that have been? Presumably something along the lines of the writer of the World War I classic, “How Ya Gonna Keep ‘em Down on the Farm (After They’ve Seen Paree)?”—but much more so. Jethro probably figured that Moses had abandoned his family for good to become like every other conqueror—and establish himself as a demigod with nearly absolute power accompanying divine pretensions.

And yet Jethro goes to visit anyway.

In Exodus 18:7, we are told Moses’ reaction. Moses “prostrated himself and kissed him [Jethro] and each inquired about the other’s well-being.” They made small talk! Then came the big talk: “Moses told his father-in-law everything that God had done to Pharaoh and Egypt for Israel’s sake—all the travail that had befallen them on the way—and that God had rescued them.”

Jethro, a man defined by his quality as a listener, surely heard a sound of silence. Moses does not mention himself. Moses spoke of what God did to Pharaoh and to Egypt for Israel’s sake.

These were not the words of an imperious conqueror. They were the words of, as the Torah later describes Moses, “the most humble man ever to live.”

Jethro’s reaction? He is—and this is what the Hebrew says—“pricked with joy.” He is so happy that this is the Moses he found, that he gets goose bumps. Jethro falls in love with Moses and with Moses’ Boss, who inspired His prophet to act this way. Jethro becomes the third person, and the third Gentile in the Bible, to say: “Blessed is God,” and he follows the blessing with a declaration: “Now I know that God is greater than all the gods.”

Jethro continues by making offerings to God and hosting a feast. Moses’ brother Aaron was at the feast, as were “all the elders of Israel.” But there was a conspicuous absence: Moses was not there.

The text does not make us wait for long to surmise where Moses was. “It was on the very next day,” we learn in Exodus 18:13, that Jethro observed Moses judging disputes “from the morning until the evening.” He missed the dinner, presumably, because he needed to be judging.

Jethro confronts Moses. “What is this thing that you do to the people?” He tells Moses to institute a judicial bureaucracy composed of “men of accomplishment, God fearing people, men of truth and people who despise money.”

Jethro’s primary concern is instructive. He is concerned about the effects of workaholism on Moses: “You will surely be worn out,” he explains to Moses in Exodus 18:18. But Jethro’s primary focus is on the Jewish people: “What is this,” he asks in Exodus 18:14, “that you do to the people?”

What could Moses have been doing to the people? He was the one hearing their disputes, and he must have had a good reason for doing so. Moses, a brilliant man (to put it mildly), surely had considered delegating, especially as he felt the pain of its absence; the Bible says that judging as he did “wore him out.” Moreover, he had already proven that he understood the benefits of relying on delegating, as when he relied upon Aaron, Hur and Joshua to win the battle against the Amalekites a short time before. 

Yet he decided against delegating when it came to judging. We are not told why. Perhaps he wanted all the people to benefit from his superior rulings. Perhaps, due to his stature or disposition, disputants came easier to compromise in his presence.

Whatever the case, Jethro was not having it. So long as Moses was the only person who could hear disputes, his original concern stood—that Moses would become, or even just be perceived as, a demigod. Instead, Jethro told Moses to empower lots of other people, despite the fact that their rulings would not be as good as his. This empowerment would lead to a widespread investment in the system, as people would draw conviction from the fact that they were able to make rulings that would reflect and define the Jewish future. 

And that, Jethro seemed to realize, would prepare the people for its most important reality. Someday, Moses would be gone. How would the Jewish people continue to survive and thrive in the absence of their great leader? By, perhaps paradoxically, seeking and accepting rulings that would not be as good as possible—just as if Moses had made them all. This concession would enable the construction of systems and processes—an institution—that was widely respected by the people. The people would then inculcate the virtues and practices of the institution in their children, who would be obligated and enthusiastic to pass it on to their children.

The result? The Jewish religion—which we owe to our great Gentile friend and observer, Jethro.

Mark Gerson, a devoted Jew, is an entrepreneur and philanthropist who (along with his wife, Rabbi Erica Gerson) is perhaps the world’s largest individual supporter of Christian medical missions. He is the co-founder of African Mission Healthcare (AMH) and the author of a forthcoming book on the Haggadah: The Telling: How Judaism’s Essential Book Reveals the Meaning of Life.  

Website: therabbishusband.com
Twitter: @markgerson
Podcast: The Rabbi’s Husband

By Arlene Bridges Samuels

Three thousand years of recorded history sit atop, around, and below the Temple Mount in Jerusalem, Israel’s capital city. The 37-acre trapezium-shaped platform rises 2,400 feet above ground. Judaism’s holiest site, the Western Wall (Kotel in Hebrew), is on the southwest side. Built by King Herod during Roman occupation, it’s one of the outer retaining walls, with limestone block upon limestone block reaching a height of 60 feet. 

The Western Wall Heritage Foundation notes that this sacred site is visited by upwards of 12 million people annually. It is often the first place Christians want to visit. That held true for me in 1990 on my first trip to Israel and for many trips afterwards. 

One of my favorite hours to visit the Kotel is at night, when neither Jews nor Christians crowd the plaza. Reaching out to push my tiny prayer paper into an already-crowded crevice, I lean my forehead against the stones. I’m filled with awe as I picture our Lord Jesus walking the Pilgrim Road up to the Temple to teach and celebrate the Jewish feasts. Jerusalem holds His invisible footprints. The quiet of the evening adds to moments of peace, as I breathe in the Jerusalem air that is sown with thousands of years of prayers and history. 

Millions of Christians have joined with countless generations of Jews in drawing deep spiritual meaning from praying at the Kotel on one side of the Temple Mount. Yet why does it remain such a disputed area? Like all things in Israel, complexity and conflict are woven into an intricate yet holy history. 

Here’s a brief look into just a few points of that history. The three monotheistic religions—Judaism, Islam, and Christianity—fasten the 37-acre platform to their faiths for varying reasons and are protected by Israel’s religious freedom. Christians honor the Temple Mount because our Jewish Savior Jesus taught in and around the Second Temple during His earthly life. For Muslims, the mount (Arabic: al-Ḥaram al-Sharīf) is said to be the spot where their founder Mohammed arrived after journeying from Mecca to Jerusalem—and from which they believe he ascended to heaven.

In Jewish hearts and prayers, conquests by Babylonians, Romans, Turkish Ottomans, and others could never dim the holiness of this sacred place. The Temple Mount (Har HaBáyit) and Western Wall (Kotel) have been revered for three millennia in Jewish thought and emotion. 

The God of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob is the final authority, transcribing His words through Jewish minds and hands in the Old and New Testaments. In a conversation between God and Abraham in Genesis 17:19, God codified His eternal real estate deed: “Sarah your wife shall bear you a son, and you shall name him Isaac; and I will maintain My covenant with him as an everlasting covenant for his offspring to come.” In modern times, the historical facts have been proven repeatedly by archaeology’s considerable discoveries.

The Western Wall Foundation reports that “touring the length of it and praying next to its gates is an ancient tradition.” In the 10th century, a Jerusalem resident sent a letter to a Jewish community in the Diaspora showing the intensity of the Jewish dependence on the location, saying, “We have no comfort other than circling the gates and bowing and asking for mercy.” The Temples’ two physical structures have slipped into the background, the al-Aqsa Mosque still stands, yet God has never abandoned His eternal contract with the Jewish people. 

Fast forward several thousand years to May 14, 1948, where a biblical shift occurred—a magnificent, world-changing event. The questions asked in Isaiah 66:8 turned into a modern answer. “Who has ever heard of such things? Who has ever seen things like this? Can a country be born in a day or a nation be brought forth in a moment? Yet no sooner is Zion in labor than she gives birth to her children.” Israel became a restored and modern Jewish state after the United Nations vote on May 14, 1948. 

The first Prime Minister, Ben Gurion, announced the modern state’s name, Israel, inside a simple art gallery in Tel Aviv, now known as Independence Hall. Stepping to the microphone, he read the Declaration of Independence where a large portrait of Theodore Herzl hung on the wall behind him. The dream of the visionary Herzl—the father of modern political Zionism—had come true! 

The exuberant residents of the newly recognized nation danced in the streets! But all too soon—the next day, in fact—the dancing stopped, as hostilities began in the Arab-instigated War of Independence. Although ill equipped, Israel won that conflict, but the incident was the beginning of wars and conflicts that have produced almost unrelenting chaos for Israel in various forms ever since. The Temple Mount epitomizes one of the most contentious and unique battlefields in history, as conflict grew more consequential. 

The Six-Day war in 1967 literally changed the Israeli landscape, when the armies of Egypt, Syria and Jordan attacked Israel—and Israel captured the Sinai Peninsula, Gaza Strip, West Bank (biblical Judea and Samaria), Jerusalem’s old city, and the Golan Heights. Israel’s victory between June 5-10 still stands as one of the most monumental events in Jewish history. In three hours on June 5, the Israel Air Force wiped out most of Egypt’s air power. 

One of my favorite stories occurred on June 7, the day that victorious Israeli paratroopers stood at the Western Wall in a united Jerusalem. Brigadier-General Shlomo Goren, one of the first to arrive at the Wall, was also a Rabbi. He brought his Torah scroll in one arm and his shofar in the other. He prayed the first Jewish prayer at the Wall since 1948. Then putting the shofar to his lips, he blew the sounds that resonate in the way only a shofar can. Its commanding notes sounded the victory at the sacred wall. Someone took his photograph surrounded by the soldiers, and the iconic photo went around the world. Rabbi Goren was the head of the military rabbinate of the Israel Defense Forces and later became the Chief Rabbi of Israel.

Under Jordan’s rule in Jerusalem from 1948 until 1967, the Temple Mount was managed by the Islamic Waqf, a Jordanian foundation. Jews were not allowed on the Temple Mount. Despite such restrictions, in the immediate aftermath of the Six-Day War, Israel’s leadership made decisions that they hoped would create mutual tolerance. 

Years ago, historian Michael Oren, former Israeli ambassador to the United States, eloquently summed up Israel’s high-minded response: “The great irony … is that when the Jews had the opportunity to take over al-Aqsa on June 7, 1967, when an Israeli flag flew over the Dome of the Rock mosque, when the rabbi of the [Israel Defense Forces] was advocating blowing up the mosque … along came the great warrior Moshe Dayan.” Oren says Dayan stated, ‘Not only are we not going to blow up the mosque—we’re going to take down the Israeli flag and give the mosque back to the Jordanians, who just tried to wage a war of annihilation against us.’ Understand the magnanimity of that gesture. We’ve been paying for it ever since.”

And pay they have. The Jordanian Waqf still manages the Temple Mount, and Israeli police still control security. Imams spew out inflammatory sermons, with baseless lies alleging that Israel is going to blow up the shrine and the mosque. Just one small incident or word can elicit such hysteria that Israeli police are sometimes forced to close the Temple Mount. In the hands of Muslims, the Temple Mount is a pawn used in a deadly game of hatred toward Israel, the rightful inheritors of the 37-acre platform. 

To date, the 2000-2005 Intifada (uprising) is the most horrific consequence of the Waqf and Israel, locked in disastrous tandem. One stirs up hatred; the other tries to keep the peace. The Israel Ministry of Foreign Affairs lists the Intifada’s deadly results: “Over 1,000 Israelis were killed and thousands severely injured. Over 2,000 Palestinians were also killed during this period. The disproportionate number of Palestinian casualties was primarily a result of the number of Palestinians involved in violence. The unfortunate deaths of noncombatants were largely due to the practice of Palestinian terrorists using civilians as shields.” One of my Israeli friends said that every Israeli knew someone who had been murdered or seriously injured. 

In another example, Palestinian Authority President Mahmoud Abbas accused Israel of “desecrating Muslim holy sites with their filthy feet” in autumn of 2015. His lies spread in a social media frenzy. The result: 34 Israelis were killed in terror attacks. Since then, stabbings, car ramming, suicide attacks, and kidnappings have occurred. Thankfully, Israeli military and police have prevented hundreds more attacks than have taken place. Paradoxically, Israel is safe for tourists, safer than many America cities. If I were in Israel now, I’d feel safe walking alone again to the Western Wall at night. 

As if physical violence were not enough, one final shameful attack on the Temple Mount took place following the 2015 terror. The United Nations Educational, Scientific, and Cultural Organization (UNESCO) says it “promotes world peace and security through international cooperation.” Yet in 2016 they passed a resolution deleting the Jewish Temple Mount history—by renaming Israel’s holiest landmark with an Arabic name: the al–Aqsa Mosque. In erasing the Temple Mount, they also erased all blame on the Palestinians. UNESCO, which is charge of designating World Heritage Sites, un-designated the Temple Mount’s 3,000-year Jewish connection. Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu stated in response, “UNESCO is rewriting a basic part of human history.” 

The golden dome atop the Dome of the Rock—the oldest Muslim religious building outside Saudi Arabia—shines under a blue Jerusalem sky. Yet its beauty belies the ugly anger and violence always lurking beneath, threatening the precarious balance of politics and religion on the 37-acre site and beyond. 

In your prayers this week, you may want to log in to the Western Wall camera where you can send your prayers to the Wall (https://thekotel.org/en/western-wall/western-wall-cameras):

• Pray for the al-Aqsa mosque Imams to stop their hateful sermons that incite violence.  
• Pray for social media outlets to prevent hatred from flowing into the already volatile conflict. 
• Pray for UNESCO and other U.N. organizations to focus on truths proven by history.
• Pray that Christians will educate themselves about history through CBN Israel and other credible media and then spread the facts. 

The peace Israel has longed for before and since 1948 remains elusive. May we pray that someday the golden dome will shine as a symbol of peace. 

Arlene Bridges Samuels pioneered Christian outreach for the American Israel Public Affairs Committee (AIPAC). After she served nine years on AIPAC’s staff, International Christian Embassy Jerusalem USA engaged her as Outreach Director part-time for their project, American Christian Leaders for Israel. Arlene is now an author at The Blogs-Times of Israel and has traveled to Israel 25 times. She co-edited The Auschwitz Album Revisited by Artist Pat Mercer Hutchens and sits on the board of Violins of Hope South Carolina. Arlene has attended Israel’s Government Press Office Christian Media Summit three times and hosts her devotionals, The Eclectic Evangelical, on her website at ArleneBridgesSamuels.com.

Lost employment, closed businesses, lockdowns…The current pandemic has brought hardship across the Holy Land. And CBN Israel has delivered aid to many during this time. But how do you reach those who are desperate—yet have a hard time asking for help?

That describes many of Israel’s 1.8 million Israeli Arab citizens. Since their culture fosters discretion, pride, and shame, it is hard for them to admit their need. CBN Israel looked for a way to reach these suffering families. And then we partnered with Sam, a local Israeli Arab.

Working with vulnerable Arab populations, Sam understands their culture. He prayed that God would guide him to those in greatest need. One day at work, he was talking with the Arab office cleaning staff. They were from a poor Arab neighborhood in East Jerusalem, where residents live in terrible conditions. Some even lack running water, or a proper roof over their heads. Many have struggled during COVID-19 to provide for their large families.

Sam shared with them that God had spoken to him of their plight—and that CBN Israel wanted to bless them with food vouchers to buy groceries. They were so moved—some also gave vouchers to hurting neighbors. And as doors have opened, we have been there with more food vouchers, medicine, and essentials to Arab families there, and in the West Bank.

CBN Israel is also reaching others in crisis, including single mothers, refugees, Holocaust survivors, terror victims, and lone soldiers. Your support is crucial in offering relief aid across Israel, now and beyond the pandemic.

You can provide food, housing, financial assistance, and more. Please join us in bringing help and encouragement to others!

GIVE TODAY

By Marc Turnage

Mount Carmel is a limestone ridge that bisects the coastal plain of the land of Israel branching off from the mountains of Samaria west towards the Mediterranean coast. It is most famous as the location for the confrontation between Elijah and the prophets of Ba’al (1 Kings 18:19).

Today, the Carmelite monastery of Mukhraka (Arabic meaning “burned place”) remembers that event. The mountain’s geographic location along the Mediterranean coast makes it fertile for agriculture (600mm average rainfall a year), which also led biblical writers and prophets to herald Carmel as a place of agricultural abundance (Song of Solomon 7:6; Isaiah 33:9; 35:2; Amos 1:2). Its fertility, rainfall, and proximity to the Phoenician coast, just to its north, made Carmel an appropriate location for the worship of Ba’al, the Phoenician god of storms and fertility. Even after Elijah, people continued to worship Ba’al of Carmel. 

The fertility, precipitation, and location of Mount Carmel play a key role in the story of Elijah and the prophets of Ba’al. Agriculture in the land of Israel proved difficult in the ancient world. The people depended solely upon God for rain to water their fields and crops due to the topography of the land (see Deuteronomy 8; 11:10-20). 

For this reason, God promised that as long as Israel obeyed Him and His commandments, He would send rain in its season; if Israel disobeyed, He would shut the heavens, so it wouldn’t rain. The concern for rain in its season (at the appropriate time) lead the Israelites to often look also to other local deities, like Ba’al, to provide rain, just in case.

The people had turned from God by worshipping Ba’al during the reign of King Ahab, and therefore, God sent drought on the land. Elijah called the children of Israel, together with the prophets of Ba’al, to gather on Mount Carmel. Mount Carmel receives some form of precipitation 250 days a year; it sits on the southern edge of Phoenicia where Ba’al worship originated. It also provided a high place. 

Ba’al is often depicted walking on the mountains, a god of high places. The drought that God sent offered a direct challenge to the god of rain. Elijah’s challenge, the god who answered with fire was God; Ba’al’s symbol was a lightening bolt. The heart of the story lies within the geographic setting of Mount Carmel. 

Of course, after God sends the fire upon Elijah’s sacrifice, and the people turn to the Lord as God, then He sends the rain. The setting and background of this story underline the challenges of daily life faced by the ancient Israelites; these challenges that raised the fundamental question that Elijah posed to the people, “If the Lord is God, then serve Him.”

Marc Turnage is President/CEO of Biblical Expeditions. He is an authority on ancient Judaism and Christian origins. He has published widely for both academic and popular audiences. His most recent book, Windows into the Bible, was named by Outreach Magazine as one of its top 100 Christian living resources. Marc is a widely sought-after speaker and a gifted teacher. He has been guiding groups to the lands of the Bible—Israel, Jordan, Egypt, Turkey, Greece, and Italy—for over twenty years.

Website: WITBUniversity.com
Facebook: @witbuniversity
Podcast: Windows into the Bible Podcast

“The mouth of the righteous utters wisdom; his tongue speaks what is just. The instruction of his God is in his heart; his steps do not falter” (Psalm 37:30-31 HCSB).

Our modern world has provided each of us with a variety of platforms to communicate and let ourselves be heard. Our age of social media offers an opportunity for us to comment, share, and express our opinions, thoughts, and feelings. That’s not necessarily a good thing.

Our ease of communication, having a platform to share our thoughts, has not typically made us better communicators. It certainly hasn’t made us better listeners. Rather, our words can often deepen divides between us; they do not always display wisdom or justice.

The psalmist identified a righteous person based upon what comes out of their mouth: wisdom and justice. You can tell a lot about a person by what they say.

The psalmist continues that the righteous have God’s law in their hearts. Our words give evidence to what is in our hearts. If God’s law resides in us, then our words will reflect wisdom and justice. If they do not, then people can rightly question what lies in our hearts.

If, however, we hold the law of God in our hearts, we can have the confidence that our steps will not falter. How do we place God’s law in our hearts? By studying it. Thinking about it. Implementing what we have learned. Controlling our words and behaviors.

It doesn’t just happen. It requires reliance upon the Holy Spirit along with conscious effort and discipline.

Spiritual growth, like growth in any area of our lives, requires discipline, effort, and choices to obey and follow through, even when we don’t feel like it. 

The Bible connects our relationship with God to our behaviors and our words. They testify to what’s in our hearts; they exhibit whether or not we have internalized His law in our hearts.

Living for God means that we choose to bring every thought, feeling, word, and action under His rule to reflect wisdom and justice.

PRAYER

Father, keep our tongue from evil and our lips from speaking guile, and let the words of our mouth and the meditations of our hearts be acceptable in Your sight. Amen.

By Mark Gerson

One of the most important concepts in finance is “reversion to the mean.” Core to everything from options pricing to stock valuation, this concept incorporates the belief that prices will revert to the place where they have mostly been. If a stock is trading at significantly below its historic price-to-earnings ratio for no specific reason (the emergence of a strong competitor, a scandal in the management), a trader might reasonably buy on the assumption that the P/E ratio will revert to its mean.

The Torah, in the Exodus story, shows us reversion to the mean is not just a finance concept. It describes one of the biggest problems in life, and the Torah—being God’s guidebook for living—prescribes the solution.

We have all (hopefully!) experienced religious, spiritual, or emotional highs. These might come at one’s wedding, upon being told you’re pregnant, at the birth of a child, at a Bar Mitzvah or christening, upon hitting the winning shot in the big game, upon falling in love at first sight.

The term “high” is appropriate here, as it is the feeling of being lifted above the normal range of emotions. This high is a wonderful, and perhaps the best, part of life. The reality, though, is that it has a very short life. The player hits the shot to win the state championship, but the math test is still on Tuesday. The wedding is full of prayers and toasts, dancing and reuniting. The honeymoon extends the high—but soon there is garbage to be taken out, a bothersome relative to deal with, and clients who need their project done on time. The baby is born and everyone celebrates—and then the sleepless nights begin.

Hence, one of the ironies of life: So much joy consists of anticipating, striving for, and living these highs in a life that will inevitably, and quickly, revert to the mean. This reversion will bring emotional volatility that can be destabilizing and even depressing.

Judaism offers us two ways to cope with this reversion—neither of which, importantly, involves denying ourselves these highs. First, we prepare ourselves for the reversion in the midst of our highs. For instance, the first act of a married man, while he is still under the chuppah (the Jewish marital canopy), is to step on and break a glass. We do this to remind ourselves, in this moment of our greatest joy and hope, that the Temple was destroyed. By acknowledging one of our greatest national sorrows in the midst of joy, we are reminded of the complexity of life—and that we can destroy this marriage as easily as we can break the glass.

The second way is immortalized in the famous song of the sea that opens Exodus 15. The Jewish people had just experienced the greatest high in the history of the world. God had just liberated us from Egyptian slavery, with the final act being the parting of the Red Sea—an act so awesome that its modern rendition constituted two of the most popular movies of the 20th century. 

This moment inspired the Jews to do something no one in the Bible had done before: sing. This is understandable; the emotions of such a moment could not be expressed in words alone. They needed song and dance.

The opening lyrics to the song, though, reveal how Moses wanted the people to handle the moment. It would solve the problem of reversion to the mean. “I will build a shrine to God,” the song says (according to the ancient commentator Onkelos). In other words, per Boca Raton Synagogue Rabbi Efrem Goldberg’s interpretation of Onkelos, the Jews would not only celebrate the moment. They would dedicate it to God, and in so doing allow it to last forever.

How did Moses and the Jews “build a shrine to God”? Most commentators link this lyric to the building of the Temple, which occurs shortly after. The gift of the verse, though, is what it arouses us to realize and what it inspires us to ask. If the Jews in the desert can enshrine the greatest feeling of all time, we can enshrine how we feel when we get married. How, though, can we do so?

We do not have to build a Temple. However, let’s say someone wins the lottery and suddenly becomes a millionaire. She could take a significant part of that windfall and establish a perpetual scholarship for needy children. Let’s say a soccer player, in overtime, dribbles through a defense and scores the winning goal as time elapses. The player becomes regionally famous. He could build on the respect of the local kids to coach them and to instill in them the habits that will lead them to succeed on and off the field.

The lottery winner would experience her high whenever one of those children graduates from the school she enabled them to attend. The center forward would experience his high with the success of each child he coached.

But imagining each of these two hypothetical winners leads us to another realization. They will not only experience the high over and over; they will also create the potential for the furthering of the original experience. We realize the Torah’s formulation—“build a shrine”—is perfect. When we build something, it becomes greater. The winner will not just experience the high again and again. The winner will experience the original high, plus the ever-increasing pleasure that comes with building and growing one’s most treasured creation.

And this can last forever—and in so doing create a new mean to which we will never revert.

Mark Gerson, a devoted Jew, is an entrepreneur and philanthropist who (along with his wife, Rabbi Erica Gerson) is perhaps the world’s largest individual supporter of Christian medical missions. He is the co-founder of African Mission Healthcare (AMH) and the author of a forthcoming book on the Haggadah: The Telling: How Judaism’s Essential Book Reveals the Meaning of Life.  

Website: therabbishusband.com
Twitter: @markgerson
Podcast: The Rabbi’s Husband