Geula Movement
Nov 23
By Rabbi Josh Wander
Earlier this week, as I walked through the streets of Jerusalem, I found myself behind a small group of American Jewish tourists. They spoke with the excitement of people checking items off a bucket list.
One exclaimed, “The museums here are unbelievable!”
The second said, “For me it’s the archaeological parks — incredible history!”
The third added, “And the historic sites… I feel like I stepped back in time.”
Their enthusiasm was real — but so was the sinking feeling I had in that moment:
Perhaps this is exactly why they will never consider making Aliyah.
Because who decides to live in a museum?
Who raises a family in an archaeological park?
Who builds a future in a place they experience only as a memory?
As long as Jews view Israel as a sentimental trip down memory lane, it will never transform in their minds from where their ancestors lived to where they themselves belong.
When Israel Becomes Colonial Williamsburg
Some Jews relate to Israel the way Americans relate to Colonial Williamsburg:
a charming reenactment village where you watch artisans reenact “the good ole days.”
You stroll, you admire, you take pictures.
You visit it.
But no one relocates to Colonial Williamsburg.
And tragically, this is exactly how many diaspora Jews relate to the Land of Israel — as a beautifully preserved reenactment of their past, not a living, breathing home for their future.
A Place to Retire… or Worse, to Be Buried
Others treat Israel not as a place to live, but as a place to retire. And some view it only as the place to be buried after 120 — a final resting place rather than a vibrant national home.
I always remind people of the words we say every single morning:
“וְתוֹלִיכֵנוּ קוֹמְמִיּוּת לְאַרְצֵנוּ”
“Bring us upright to our Land.”
Upright — alive, strong, standing tall.
Yet for too many Jews, the only way they imagine arriving in Eretz Yisrael is horizontally.
A complete distortion of the Torah’s vision of return.
The Temple: Fairy Tale Abroad, Reality at Home
In my years guiding for the Temple Institute, one message was always drilled in:
“We are not a museum.”
The vessels on display are not replicas.
They are not models.
They are not educational props.
They are real halachic Temple vessels, ready for use.
But for many Jews in exile, the Beis HaMikdash is a fictional world — something you learn about in a Torah class but never connect to the present reality of today.
I once gave a tour to a group of Hasidic boys from Borough Park. At the end, one turned to me and said:
“This is amazing… it’s so real to you that it’s not even a fairy tale.”
I was stunned.
Because in that one innocent comment lay the entire tragedy of diaspora life.
I replied:
“I guess if you live in Borough Park, you grow up hearing about Little Red Riding Hood, the Three Little Bears, and the Beis HaMikdash — and all of them sound like fairy tales. But for us, who open our windows each morning and see the Temple Mount with our own eyes, there isn’t a day that goes by that we’re not thinking about how to rebuild the House that was lost.”
Continue reading…
From Geula’s Substack, here.
