Faithless Spies

Twelve spies returned from scouting the Promised Land. Two—Caleb and Joshua—saw a land flowing with milk and honey, full of potential and Divine promise. But ten others, faithless spies, came back afraid. “The land devours its inhabitants,” they cried (Numbers 13:32), sowing panic and rebellion among the Israelites. Their lack of faith doomed an entire generation to wander the wilderness for 38 more years.

Two were Zionists in spirit, seeking a Jewish future in a promised land. Ten were fearful. And their faithlessness — more than the might of Canaan’s cities — endangered the nation.

Caleb and Joshua embodied the dream of Zion. Even as they saw danger ahead, they held onto hope. I, too, recognize Israel’s imperfections and acknowledge the suffering, and still, I have faith. Those who are like Caleb and Joshua understand that the road to Zion is not easy, and struggle is sometimes necessary.

But around us—and sometimes within our communities—are voices echoing the ten spies: full of fear, doubt, and disavowal. Their faithlessness is not benign. It weakens the Jewish people. It places us all in danger.

We see the consequences unfolding before our eyes. Jews have long aligned, and should align, with American progressivism when advocating for justice and equality. Yet many of our progressive allies now turn on Israel with hostility, and by extension, on Jews, whatever their relationship to the Jewish state.

Vitriol against Israel knows no limit, and in too many places, it’s open season on Zionists.

Anti-Zionism has long been a mask for anti-Semitism, with roots in the 1975 UN Resolution sponsored by the Soviet Union, declaring Zionism to be racism. The legacy of that resolution endures.

Today, on college campuses, Jewish students are vilified and harassed while Jewish faculty face intimidation. The campus movements that demanded safe spaces for students now permit—even praise—rhetoric and actions that threaten Jewish lives. The violence reaches beyond the quad.

Yaron and Sarah were killed on the steps of the Capitol Jewish Museum. Although both worked at the Israeli Embassy, the attacker could neither identify them as Israeli nor Zionist — they were murdered for being Jewish. The killer yelled, “Free Palestine.” In Boulder, incendiaries were thrown at a march to remember the hostages, injuring twelve people. The attacker said he wanted to “kill all Zionist people.” The danger of anti-Zionism is not theoretical.

I am not calling for blind allegiance to the Israeli government or its policies. I am calling for vision—for the courage to see Israel’s essence amid complexity. Caleb and Joshua were not naïve. They saw the challenges. But they also saw the future—and chose to believe in it.

Faithlessness destroys community. That was the lesson of the spies. And it remains true today.

For my grandparents, America was the new Promised Land. But the hope of Zion—of a Jewish homeland—never dimmed. Zion remained in their prayers and our dreams. After pogroms, the Shoah, and exile, the establishment of Israel is the miracle of return, the haven for a people too often without shelter.

Now is not the time to waver. We must speak clearly and courageously: anti-Semitism, from left or right, is unacceptable. The Jewish people cannot shrink from our heritage, our identity, or our connection to Israel. Accordingly, when we abandon Zion, we leave all Jews vulnerable. When we defend Zion — even as we criticize Israel’s government, we yet stand in the tradition of those who believed in a safe homeland for Jews.

Let us not be counted among those who faltered. Let us rise like Caleb and Joshua—resolute, faithful, and unafraid. Our collective future may depend upon it.

Rabbi Evan J. Krame