http://www.jewishideasdaily.com/6473/features/beyond-the-giants/
Over 3,000 years ago, a band of Hebrew scouts left their dusty Sinai outpost and trekked deep into the heart of Canaan to survey it and see what kind of country it was. These 12 men had heard much about a land flowing with milk and honey, but they had never seen it with their own eyes. Forty days later they returned crestfallen and hopeless. The land was indeed a paradise, they told the Israelite congregation, but it was occupied by giants. Despite God’s inflated promises, Israel had no future there. Joshua and Caleb dissented, but the majority carried the day.
Fast forward a few millennia. I’m sitting on a plane at JFK about to embark on my own investigative mission to Canaan. My goal is research, not conquest, and my point of departure is New York, not Sinai. But on this, my very first trip to Israel, I feel just as exhilarated and anxious as those 12 spies must have felt.
I know a great deal about Israel. As a Christian, I have read through the Hebrew scriptures many times; as a student of Middle Eastern history I’ve examined the region extensively from an academic perspective. Yet I have never seen the land in person. As my plane leaves the tarmac, I suddenly wonder if I too will be disappointed by what I find.
The trip goes by in a blur and three weeks later I return. Friends and family immediately bombard me with questions: What is Israel like? How are the people? Is the country in which they dwell good or bad? My Israeli friends are especially interested to hear my thoughts. Was Israel what I expected?
Israel is a paradise, I tell them. The immense Jerusalem sky, the ancient hills, and the sun-washed shores of the Mediterranean are beyond breathtaking. I ramble on about the aromatic food, the endearing people, and the surprising array of cultures. I try my best to impart some sense of Israel’s spiritual energy, struggling to convey what it’s like to walk in the cool confines of the Garden Tomb, pray at the Western Wall, and stand before the Golden Gate at twilight listening to the cry of the muezzin inside Al-Aqsa.
My listeners nod and smile, mildly amused. They are probing for something deeper, something more substantial. Based on what I saw, they ask, is there any future in Canaan?
Here my voice softens a bit. I can’t lie—I saw some giants.