In Search of the Olive Branch

February 9, 2024 - Brooklyn, NY

I have always admired the beautiful grace of the bird. Flying swiftly and beautifully, it easily transcends the turmoil of the ground. It lives in touch with the changing seasons, fluctuating its migration patterns with the ebb and flow of nature. I chuckle with glee when I see the bird’s ability to navigate the streets of the city, gliding effortlessly between the buildings. I imagine it’s a wonderful perspective, to look down on the human masses, flying in and out of familiar flocks of feathered creatures. 

It’s truly marvelous, how it instinctually creates a home with its surrounding environment, collecting branches and constructing shelter on the fly. The bird always creates a temporary home, which I feel like further emphasizes its grace. Every season it will change its home, always adapting to its new environment. As they travel, the bird carries seeds of its past location, spreading them across the oncoming terrain. They help the ecology flourish wherever they fly, carrying bits and pieces of the past along the journey to their new home.

These days, I wonder if the dove will ever return with the olive branch. While I wait, I gaze out at the flood that surrounds me. A need for answers to the uncertainty blows this raging storm. At this point, I don’t even know what questions I am seeking answers for. Realistically, questions for peace seem impossible, absurd and naive. Everything is different now and we don’t know how this story is going to end, when the dove is going to return. I can only imagine how turbulent the dove’s journey to find an olive branch is, amidst the chaos of the flood. Sent from the ark with the motivation to transcend the destruction of the world, I hope it finds land. The bird’s instinct is to gather branches to make a home. So when it brought back the olive branch, it was a sign of hope. That life was going to calm down, and that the land would be ready to be home soon. 

Legend has it that when the Greek goddess of wisdom, Athena, gifted the Greek people the olive tree, they celebrated the gift by naming their capital city after her, Athens.  She won a competition against the emotionally charged god of the ocean, Poseidon, competing for the heart of the Greek citizen. While Athena’s gift focused on the practicality and multi purpose utility of the tree, Poseidon had something different in mind. Instead, he gifted them a salt water spring, reflecting his emotion and passion. While the spring was beautiful, it wasn’t very practical, not even drinkable. I find it very interesting how in this foundational cultural legend, the stability of the olive tree over the turbulence of the ocean is emphasized. The parallels between this story and Noah’s feels quite stark.

In Arabic culture too, the olive tree is very significant. It is a foundational staple in their culinary palette, and a huge part of middle eastern agriculture. I remember seeing Muslim women harvesting olives from the trees in Jerusalem, hitting the branches with sticks to get the olives to drop on their blankets. In the Quran, the olive tree is seen as a blessed tree, and olive oil is seen poetically as blessed light. They see the olive tree as a symbol for resilience too, relating to its ability to thrive in harsh climates.

For the Jewish people, the olive tree and olive oil is very significant. It is seen as a light of resilience, illuminating the story of our ability to overcome adversity in Chanukah. Olive trees come up often in Torah, as a symbol of abundance and connection with Hashem. Currently it’s the olive tree branch, in the mouth of the dove on its way back to Noah’s ark, that’s on my mind.

If you have ever gotten the opportunity to see these trees, then you know how uniquely beautiful they are. I would admire them, passing by them while walking around Jerusalem. I love how their trunk twists and turns, creating these unique shapes. They remind me of human bodies, like limbs contorting. The human figure in them had me  imagining my ancestors, transfixed into the trees. Their ancient spirits, growing slowly, watching the fast paced human movement dance around them. It felt like they stood there for thousands of years, as ancient witnesses of the ever changing region.

While living in Jerusalem, I delightedly observed an iconic tribe of green parrots that flew all around the city. With distinctly beautiful characteristics I felt called to ask, where are these parrots from? And why are there so many of them? I got the impression that their origin wasn’t from the desert, I imagined they were from a more tropical region of the world. I can remember my parents telling me their story. He said, during one of the first waves of zionist immigrants, an adventurous soul brought a couple of the green parrots with him. Border customs didn’t really exist in the same way back then, I suppose. These spectacular parrots must have gotten loose, and then started to spread.

Since they are foreign creatures, there are no known predators in the region. So they multiplied and grew into the prominent species of green parrots that they are today. In ecological terms, this is called an invasive species. Truthfully I’ve heard similar slurs thrown at Israelis. Before we judge either beautiful manifestations of life, it’s good to take a long and comprehensive look at the reality of the situation. No one seems to mind these beautiful green birds, and my dad thinks they are doing just fine. The truth is, ecologically and culturally, regions are subject to change. Once, the Israeli desert was agriculturally desolate and Tel Aviv was an uninhabitable swamp land. Today, the Negev is growing forests, and Tel Aviv is definitely not uninhabitable. The only constant in life is change.

With full discretion, I am not preaching that anyone should pray. Now that’s said, if you choose to look in a Jewish prayer book, a siddur, you will see a lot of prayer for peace. In fact, some of the most important prayers to the Jewish people are about praying to Hashem for peace. Upon realizing this, I asked myself, why? What does it mean to pray for peace? Why do we need to pray for peace? Are we unable to achieve peace on our own? Well, the reality seems like peace can’t be really achieved so easily. I don’t think it’s a realistic expectation for humans to be able to bring peace. A quick stroll through history, and even some surface level observations of human behavior, I think you would probably come to the same conclusion.

That seems to be the reason that prayers for peace are so prominent in the siddur. There is a recognition that without asking for help, there is no hope in our ability to achieve peace. This is why the dove was sent from the ark, on a mission of hope, to bring back a sign of peace. Finding peace was a complex process that was only possible with help. Noah actually had very little to do with achieving peace. He didn’t control the flood, he really just built the boat to survive it. I think, ultimately, it’s a recognition that achieving peace is beyond our control. The best we can do is to hope for help in transcendence, rather than drowning in the flood.

If you have read the story of Noah, then you know how awful his mental health was especially after the flood. I will spare myself from describing what happened with him in detail. Rather, I want to take this as an opportunity to promote mental health awareness. Especially during this intense time of chaos, change, turmoil and transformation, I encourage you to do what you can to take care of yourself. Do what you need to do, so that when the flood stops outside, you will be ready to come off of the ark at peace. Whatever it may be for you, I hope that you find peace.