2026 KSDS Israel Trip Reflection


In the parasha Behar, God reminds us, “ki li ha’aretz” for the land is Mine. God explains that we are but strangers and resident settlers with the Almighty. Walking through the historical sites of the Old City and the natural beauty of Caesarea, Ein Ovdat and so many places around the country, this message feels visceral. We aren’t owners; we are stewards.

Throughout our trip, we’ve visited places that highlight this delicate balance:

  • The Stones of Jerusalem: Where thousands of years of history remind us that we are only the most recent guests in a long line of residents.

  • The Judean Hills: Where the laws of Shmita (the Sabbatical year) first taught us to let the land rest and recognize a higher ownership.

  • The Judean Desert: The Al–Furaa Bedouin School and within it a hub for off grid holistic integration. NGO, Samsuna (co-directed by Gil Yasur the father of KSDS’s 2021 Shinshin Ofir Yasur) builds solar solutions to provide electricity and in partnership with the Arava Institute they installed an autonomous water purification system. 

The American folk singer Woody Guthrie once captured this biblical sentiment in a way that resonates with our experience here:

“As I went walking, I saw a sign there, And on the sign it said, ‘No Trespassing.’ But on the other side, it didn’t say nothing, That side was made for you and me.”

Guthrie’s lyrics remind us that while mankind puts up walls and signs, the essence of the earth remains a shared gift. It is a modern echo of the Torah’s command that we must be extra careful with our earth and its precious natural resources, now and forever.

The “No Trespassing” sign Woody Guthrie sang about isn’t just about fences; it’s about the barriers we build in our minds and hearts. This incredible trip has shown us that the “complexity” of Israel is actually its greatest teacher.

We see this most clearly in the people who make this journey possible. Our driver and my friend for over a decade, Sami, an Israeli Arab Muslim, is as much a steward of this land as anyone we’ve met. Sami and his family are from Ein Rafa, across from Abu Ghosh, tracing their roots to farming the land pre-1948. 

His story reminds us that the responsibility to care for it—and for one another—transcends religion and politics. We are all “resident settlers” sharing the same dust, the same water, and the same future.

All of us will carry these lessons back with us to Baltimore: to be mindful of our environment and our role as caretakers, no matter where we stand.