Have you ever imagined what it is like to be a farmer?
Any farmer is connected to their land in ways city-folk have a hard time understanding. You feel the rhythm of the land, when it needs to rest and when it is ready to bring forth new life.
There is something magical about communing with the land, being in partnership so that through your sweat and her nourishment you give birth to new growth that will give life to others.
The Jewish farmer in Zion has an even deeper union with the land.
It’s a 3000 year old love story consummated every time he or she goes to work, plants new seeds, waters the lands. It is biblical prophecy fulfilled when he or she walks the land, making it bloom once more.
The land (particularly that in the Gaza area) was dormant, empty. Waiting. When her lover come back she burst into bloom, producing rich fruit, vegetables, anything and everything that could be desired, in thanks, in gratitude for, once again being loved.
The Jewish farmer doesn’t have to consciously think about how the relationship with the land makes him (or her) a more complete Jew. It happens with every breath, with every effort, with the glorious harvest after a year’s labor of love.
And then, in an instant, it’s all ruined.
Melon field, Nahal Oz by Kfir Sivan
One kite, such an innocuous thing, a child’s toy, turned into a weapon, a firebomb burns away a year of love. You aren’t hearing about these attacks on the news. To others this is a non-story – Jews under fire, literally, day after day after day.
Acres of land going up in flames, crops ruined, wildlife burned alive. Greenhouses burnt to the ground, homes drenched in smoke, poisoned air…
This is something else, only the Jewish farmer experiences – people enraged that the land is once again taking part on the centuries old love story that has nothing to do with them. People so full of hate they are willing to burn farmer and land together, just so that no one will benefit.
This is what is happening in Israel now.
Take a look at this field of melons by Nahal Oz. Melons in their prime, ripe and ready to be harvested. Their juice should now be bursting in the mouths of the people they were destined to nourish, their sweetness sliding down throats of people who appreciate this produce of the land.
Instead they lie, burned in ruin. The land that gave them life is now a grave instead of a mother. The farmer that loved them, raised them to be all that they could be, counted on them for the sweet life they would give him is left with bitter tears.
When you hear of kite bombs think of these melons.
Think of their farmer.
Think of this land.
2000 years of yearning, 70 years of hard work, investment of love and labor, livelihood of individuals, food for a nation. THAT is what is under attack.
It won’t work.
We are Zion, home to stay
We have lots of ideas, but we need more resources to be even more effective. Please donate today to help get the message out and to help defend Israel.