Hope For An Olive Tree

by Beth Uval

Opposite the olive press in the Seven Species area stands my favorite olive tree—not the biggest, not the most beautiful, not the oldest. But the one that embodies an idea very close to my heart.

The ancient trunk is completely lifeless, its gnarled and twisted shape silently attesting fruitfulness long gone. But next to the base of this dead trunk are fresh, new shoots, some mere infants, some already teenagers, all bursting with the vitality of the young. Though the cells of the trunk are inert, the roots are still producing life in the form of these green-leafed shoots.

Notice the new shoots around the trunk of olive tree.

These offshoots are the babies of the olive tree. We can take one of these shoots, together with a piece of the root that nourishes it, and keep it for se vera l months. When we put the shoot in the ground, it will send down new roots and grow, and in four or five years start producing fruit. Psalm 128 says, "Your children are like olive shoots around your table." Our progeny sit around our table like the next generation of the olive tree around its trunk. And the last verse of the psalm says, "May you see children of your children, and peace in Israel"—the continuity that is inseparable from peace. These shoots, the olive tree's children, have a special name in Hebrew—netzer, from the Hebrew root meaning "to guard or preserve." The farmer doesn't leave all the shoots, which sap the strength of the parent tree, but only a few, the most promising, to produce new trees—the "guarded" shoots. The prophet Isaiah said: "A branch will grow from the trunk of Jesse [father of King D avi d], and a shoot (netzer) will sprout from its roots" (11:1). In his historical context, in the eighth century BCE, Isaiah was

prophesying the destruction that threatened Jerusalem. But, as always in Isaiah, destruction is never final. Assyria would conquer a large part of the Kingdom of Judah. But, afterwards, Judah would be ruled by a new king, from the House of David ("the trunk of Jesse"), who would be wise and righteous: "The spirit of the Lord shall rest upon him, the spirit of wisdom and understanding, the spirit of counsel and valor, the spirit of devotion and reverence for the Lord" (11:2). Destruction would be followed by an era of peace and justice.

This idea of rebirth following death and destruction is still very much alive for us.

In the spring, after Passover, we have two modern days in the Jewish calendar: Yom Hashoah—Holocaust Memorial Day, then exactly one week later, Yom Hazikaron—the memorial day for fallen soldiers and terror victims, followed immediately by Yom Ha'atzma'ut—Israel Independence Day. It is during this week especially, when we relive the miraculous emergence, in our time, of new life from tragedy, that we show visitors this particular olive tree.

See! Destruction is never final. There is always hope for renewal. It happens in nature, and it happens in human life and human history, in the times of the Bible and in ours.

May this spring bring the new life and hope that always lies possible in crisis and disaster, as the tree lies waiting in the seed.

Beth Uval

Distinguished visitors:
Senator Joseph Lieberman, and daughter, Chani (with back to camera) toured NK with Nogah Hareuveni and Beth Uval . Hadassah Lieberman, the Senator’s wife and Ephraim Cohen, Cultural Attache, American Embassy, Israel, were also on the tour (not pictured).