Energized by the national trend in corporate America of the nation’s leading companies hosting Employee Resource Groups (ERG’s), Clal created the Jewish At Work Initiative, which mobilizes the contemporary workplace as a location of Jewish meaning, purpose, and community.
Driven by cutting-edge research conducted by our own Rebecca Leeman and Rabbi Elan Babchuck, Clal has begun to build a network of ERG leaders. Responding to an already appreciated need for Jews at work to connect with Israel, especially among those not so connected in the past, Clal launched its inaugural Jewish ERG Israel trip, led by another member of our team, Steven Phillips, whose thoughts are included below.
Steven’s piece is a deeply personal reflection on the trip. While no two stories are alike, you will see – as you did in Elan’s recently published piece reflecting on the same journey – how transformational this trip was and how formative this entire venture promises to be.
Hineni: Because sometimes ‘I’m here’ just isn’t enough
From November 18 to 24, 2024, I helped lead a trip to Israel with Clal – The National Jewish Center for Learning and Leadership and JewishERGs. The trip was for leaders and members of Jewish Employee Resource Groups (ERGs) – voluntary, employee-led groups within the workplace which foster inclusion, representation, and awareness, while also serving as a safe space for Jews at work. I believe it’s important that Jews are included in Diversity Equity and Inclusion programs, so I started JewishERGs alongside some other leaders of Jewish employee groups in order to connect, grow, and strengthen JewishERG leaders around the world.
Leaving Israel at the end of a trip is something that I struggle with. There is no place I hate more than what I believe to be one of the most beautiful airport departure lounges in the world, at Ben Gurion Airport in Tel Aviv. I hate the bittersweet feeling of leaving behind my homeland to go back to the land I call home.
This time, it felt different. Perhaps the true importance of being in Israel this time didn’t hit home until I found myself leaving. Being there this time was not only the usual cocktail of special, meaningful, fun, and at moments a light nightmare. It also felt incredibly important.
It’s difficult to explain to my non-Jewish friends (and often no easy feat to explain to my Jewish friends) why I’d leave London and head to a country considered to be under attack. Why would I go somewhere, knowing my day could be interrupted by the need to take shelter from rockets being fired at me by a group of terrorists? Or why, when I know that Tel Aviv and Jerusalem were statistically less likely to be under a rocket attack, would I choose to drive north to Haifa to meet my friend’s 10 week old baby – who has already been in a shelter as many times as she is weeks old?
Even when I had arrived in Israel, I was asked by Israelis, “Why?! Why would you come now? Have you lost your mind?!” For the record, I’m happy to admit that I lost my mind a long time ago.
As hard as it was to justify why I would visit Israel now, it was even more difficult to explain how I’d managed to convince 20 members and leaders of their Jewish Employee Resource Groups to fly in from America on a six-day tour. For three of them, this was their first time ever in Israel. For those six days, we toured the country – Tel Aviv, Otef Aza (the Gaza Envelope), and Jerusalem. We learned about our country, our people, our history, and most importantly, our resilience. We bore witness to the events of October 7th and we played our part sorting fruit and vegetables at the incredible Leket Israel, which were then sent around the country to those most in need.
We went to places that many Israelis haven’t been and won’t go. The wounds are too raw, and the feeling too close for comfort. The reality of this sank in for me hearing the sound of heavy artillery fire echoing through the site of the Nova festival, abruptly punctuating the incredible story of heroism being told to us by Yossef Ziadana, who personally saved 30 people during the attack on the festival.
Equally important to visiting the sites of October 7th was simply visiting the mundane and the normal. The market, the square, the shops. It was so important not to only spend time on the negative. We visited the Knesset, met amazing soldiers in recovery or just back from Lebanon, learned about our ancient history on a tour of the Western Wall tunnels, and had the most amazing Friday night dinner in the home of an incredible rabbi and his wife. We learned as much about others as I think we learned about ourselves.
Everywhere we went was a continual reminder of the absolute unwavering resilience of our people. A reminder of our ability to suffer something unimaginable; to be sad, scared, and concerned; and yet also to survive – not by forgetting what has happened or is happening, but by dusting ourselves off and carrying the heck on.
There was no better reminder of this resilience when on the first night, Hezbollah decided to welcome the group with a missile fired at Tel Aviv. We were briskly dispatched to the stairwells (the designated safe space in case of attack), where we waited the allotted 10 minutes, sharing selfies and WhatsApp messages.
Once those 10 minutes were up, the hotel manager proclaimed “WINE,” and promptly opened a bottle and passed out glasses to hotel guests in the bar area. We joke that Jewish holidays can be summarized by, “They tried to kill us, they didn’t succeed, let’s eat!” Here I was, living it firsthand. L’chaim!
We shared a lot with our Israeli brothers and sisters – from drinking and dancing in the market, to understanding the pain of the past year, to hoping for the future. We listened to them and we explained to them that we understood.
We too feel as if we are in a way at war. While not the physical warfare our brothers and sisters are tragically now used to, our lives in the Diaspora have been shaken the past year. Spaces in which we felt we were safe, we are no longer sure. People we thought were friends haven’t been there for us. Those we thought would stand by us and support us have at best turned their backs and at worst turned against us.
Why was I in Israel?
In the Torah, although you could use the phrase “ani po” – “I’m here” – when someone calls your name or asks “Where are you?” there is a single word used when something challenging needs to be done: “Hineni.”
When G-d calls to Abraham and is going to ask him to sacrifice his son, Abraham replies “Hineni.”
When Moses is tending his flock in the wilderness, sees a bush on fire, and tries to get a closer look because the bush isn’t being consumed, G-d calls to him. Moses doesn’t reply, “What on earth is going on?” He replies, “Hineni.”
Hineni is a pure, uninhibited declaration of being present. I am here. Right now. Ready.
Each time a person says it in the Torah, they have no clue how their lives are about to change. And yet, sensing a call greater than themselves, they offer their readiness to do what needs to be done. Literally, “Hineni” means, “Behold me.” It’s the kind of declaration we don’t often get to make in life. To give boundless support, to be present in the moment, and to engage with a whole heart, knowing that you may make change.
When our Israeli brothers and sisters asked, “Why are you here? Why now?” the best answer I could give them was: Hineni. We’ve heard the call. We want to be present with you, to support you and to stand with you, as we write this awful chapter in our amazing history together.
For those of you who haven’t visited Israel yet since October 7th, I implore you: Now is your time. Hear the call. Go and visit. You don’t need to go to the Gaza Envelope. You don’t even really need to go and volunteer. You just need to go. The most healing thing you can do right now is support the greater Jewish mishpoche (family) by standing with them. Or sitting and fressing (eating) with them. Or just buying schmattes in the market and talking to them.
With hope for the speedy return of the hostages.
Born and raised in London, Steven built a career in technology, solving large-scale IT and Cyber ??Security challenges. While at Amazon, he founded their Jewish Employee Group, igniting his passion for building Jewish communities and educating others about Jewish identity.
In 2022, Steven co-founded JewishERGs, now the world’s largest network of Jewish Employee Resource Group (ERG) leaders.
In 2024, Steven left his technology career behind to focus full-time on JewishERGs. Since then, he has created and led two trips to Israel, partnered with Clal on groundbreaking research into Jewish workplace experiences, and built a thriving global community of Jewish leaders.