This past Yom Kippur, as the sun set over Tel Aviv, I found myself standing outdoors among hundreds of people for the final evening service before breaking the fast.
There was something about that particular moment — the last light of day, the sound of the prayers and hundreds of fellow Jews gathered to conclude the holiest day on the Jewish calendar — that made me stop and reflect. I looked around and thought about the extraordinary circumstances that had brought us here, to the very place toward which Jews have directed their prayers for thousands of years. We were not praying toward Israel from somewhere else or hoping that one day we might see it. We were praying in Israel.
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Israel is a country where everything seems to operate at full volume, in full color and high definition, all at once
(Photo: Noah Sander)
Another thought struck me. For the first time in nearly 2,000 years, e can do more than pray for a Jewish homeland. We can live in it, help build it and invest in its future. That realization stayed with me long after Yom Kippur ended, and I want to share why.
A perspective that's hard to appreciate from the diaspora
I understand that when you're living in Toronto, Los Angeles or Sydney, it can be difficult to appreciate the full historical significance of this moment in your everyday life. Life is busy. The kids have school, the mortgage needs paying and there's a hockey game on tonight. Israel can feel far away, both geographically and emotionally, even when you care deeply about it.
But I want you to consider that perspective for a moment, because I believe it can change how you think about your next investment decision.
For centuries, the Jewish experience followed a recurring and painful pattern. A community would settle somewhere, build lives, establish businesses and raise families. Jews would contribute to the society around them, sometimes for generations. Then, gradually or frighteningly quickly, circumstances would change. Hostility would rise, governments would change or the surrounding society would become less welcoming. Historically, Jews often faced two choices: stay and hope things improved or leave for another country that might offer a safer future — or, as I see it, somewhere willing to tolerate us for the time being.
Generation after generation, country after country, some version of that story repeated itself. Then, barely 80 years ago, Jewish sovereignty was re-established after nearly 2,000 years. A real country emerged, with an army, an economy, institutions and a future. Many of our grandparents and great-grandparents could barely have imagined what exists today, and many never lived to see it.
What Israel is today
I've written about this at length in a previous article, "My honest take on living in Israel." Without repeating everything I said there, Israel is a country where everything seems to operate at full volume, in full color and high definition, all at once. It is hectic, beautiful, chaotic and, somehow, inexplicably tranquil, often in the same breath.
If Israel matters to you, and if your Jewish identity matters to you, when you sit down to decide where your next significant investment should go, are you considering the full historical significance of the moment we're living in?
(Photo: Noah Sander)
When I travel abroad, whether back to Canada, to the United States or anywhere else, I notice something almost immediately. Everyone seems to be moving through their days, going through the motions of everyday life. You know those moving walkways at airports, where stepping onto stationary ground can briefly throw you off balance? That's how it feels when I step onto foreign soil after a flight from Israel. Suddenly, the ground seems to have stopped moving. To be clear, I'm not judging anyone else's life. This is purely my own experience. But for me, as a Jew, Israel represents the difference between truly living and simply existing. I feel that difference every time I come home.
And I don't say that because I romanticize Israel. It is complicated, imperfect and occasionally crazy. Anyone who lives here knows that. But it is also a functioning, innovative and powerful economic success story that previous generations could only have dreamed of. You see a country being built every day, in the businesses, the technology, the construction cranes and the infrastructure taking shape around us. More importantly, you see it in the people who continue getting up every morning and building their lives here despite everything this country has endured.
Resilience is a way of life here, not simply the occasional moral of a story. And rather than producing only exhaustion, that resilience generates an energy I haven't encountered anywhere else. Despite everything, Israel consistently ranks among the happiest countries in the world. Make of that what you will.
That is what makes the opportunity available to Jews around the world today so extraordinary. You can deliberately participate in building this country. You can invest in its economy, build a life here if you choose and own a small piece of it. Not necessarily because you're a refugee or fleeing somewhere else, but simply because you've decided that having a foothold in the Jewish state matters to you.
The Florida question
I want to be clear about something. I'm not here to tell you how to spend your money. If you want a vacation home in Florida, Mexico or Italy, that's entirely your decision. There are excellent investments all over the world, and Israel does not automatically become the right financial choice simply because you're Jewish.
But I do want to ask an honest question. If Israel matters to you, and if your Jewish identity matters to you, when you sit down to decide where your next significant investment should go, are you considering the full historical significance of the moment we're living in?
Whatever your motivation, investing in Israel is not necessarily the same as investing in another country purely for financial gain
(Photo: Noah Sander)
Think about what this opportunity represents. Generations of Jews before us could pray toward Jerusalem, dream of returning and support Jewish communities and, eventually, the developing Jewish homeland. What they did not have for most of the past 2,000 years was the option we have today: to invest in a sovereign Jewish state, own property here and participate directly in its future. To move here, build a life, breathe the air and raise a family in the Jewish homeland.
That's also why, when I hear someone say they're debating between buying a property in Israel and purchasing a vacation home in Florida or somewhere else because it's closer and cheaper, I sometimes find myself scratching my head. Are we really comparing these two things as though they're the same? I realize that question may upset some people, but it's how I genuinely feel.
And yes, I understand the financial calculation. But after October 7, after the war and the sacrifices of so many people who gave their lives for this country, and after everything Jews around the world have experienced over the past few years, I find it increasingly difficult to view those two decisions through the same lens. One carries a historical and ideological significance that the other simply doesn't and never will.
The fact that we have this option is extraordinary. And in that context, with all due respect to places like Florida or Mexico, I believe the debate begins to look very different.
Maybe the highest rental yield isn't the only return worth considering. Maybe the size of a vacation home isn't the only measure of value. Maybe where your money goes, which economy it supports, what it represents to you and what opportunities it leaves available to your children should also be part of the calculation. That doesn't make the financial considerations irrelevant. It simply means they may not be the only considerations that matter.
What October 7 changed
For a long time, and I think this is true for many Jews who grew up in comfortable diaspora communities, there was an unspoken assumption underlying everyday life. When we learned about the Holocaust in school or heard stories of pogroms, persecution and expulsions throughout history, it was easy to think: Yes, but that was then. The world is different now.
October 7 and everything that followed challenged that sense of certainty for many Jews. Antisemitism did not disappear with our grandparents' generation, and Jewish communities around the world have been forced to confront questions about identity, security and belonging that may have seemed far more theoretical just a few years ago.
I don't know what Jewish life in Canada, the United States, Britain, France, Australia or elsewhere will look like 10 years from now. I genuinely hope the tide turns and more people begin distinguishing fact from falsehood. I hope Western governments return to openly supporting the one democratic and free society in this region that protects the very rights and freedoms they claim to champion. I hope mainstream media outlets move away from what I see as deeply distorted and often antisemitic coverage of Israel and return to reporting the facts. I hope universities change course, stop providing platforms for supporters of terrorism and start protecting Jewish students on their campuses. And I hope Jews who have become so consumed by hostility toward Israel take a serious look at the positions they have adopted.
For the first time in an extraordinarily long time, Jews wondering what the future holds don't have to rely solely on the hope that things will work out wherever they happen to be living
(Photo: Noah Sander)
I have my own predictions about where things are heading. But there is one enormous difference between this period of Jewish uncertainty and so many that came before it: Israel exists, and Jews have an option that previous generations did not.
Whatever happens, there is a sovereign Jewish country with an economy, an army, institutions, cities and communities that, in many respects, is still just getting started. A future is being built here every day. You may never need Israel as an alternative. You may never make aliyah, the Hebrew term for immigrating to Israel. Your children may build wonderful lives exactly where they are today. But the fact that the option exists fundamentally changes the historical equation.
Why I look at it differently now
Before October 7, I probably would have made this argument more cautiously and with considerably more distance. Then October 7 happened. I was called up for military service, went to Gaza and returned looking at Israel, Jewish history and even my own work differently.
I returned with an even stronger conviction that Israel's existence is vital to the Jewish people. That doesn't mean every Jew needs to pick up and move here tomorrow, and it doesn't mean Jewish life in the diaspora has no future. It certainly doesn't mean you should make a poor financial decision simply because a property happens to be in Israel. A bad investment doesn't become a good one just because it's Zionist.
What it means to me is something much simpler. For the first time in an extraordinarily long time, Jews wondering what the future holds don't have to rely solely on the hope that things will work out wherever they happen to be living. There is somewhere else, and it isn't merely a refuge. It is a thriving country that belongs to the Jewish people and that any Jew can choose to become part of.
That matters to me, and I believe it should at least be part of the conversation when you decide where to invest your money.
The lens I'm asking you to look through
I'm not asking you to make aliyah tomorrow, although I certainly wouldn't oppose it. And I'm not suggesting that ideology should replace financial due diligence. What I'm asking is that when you consider your next significant investment, you look at it through a lens that includes who you are, where you come from and what this particular moment in Jewish history represents. Think about what it means to own something here, to contribute to this economy and society and to belong to a generation that actually has that opportunity.
I'll share a story that has stayed with me. In the early days of the war following October 7, during one of the few moments of downtime we had, I read an article about an Israeli wealth management firm that was reportedly recommending its clients move all their investments out of Israel and into the American stock market.
The article rubbed me the wrong way. To me, the message sounded like "abandon the sinking ship," and there I was, serving with my unit and hunting down terrorists in the south. I understood the financial concerns, but the recommendation struck me as particularly troubling at a time when so many Israelis were risking everything to defend the country.
Here's the remarkable part: Since October 7, 2023, Israel's TA-125 index has surged by approximately 120%, compared with an 80% gain for the S&P 500 — outperforming the American benchmark by roughly 40 percentage points. And all of this has happened during an extraordinarily uncertain and volatile period in Israel's history.
That performance doesn't eliminate investment risk, nor does it mean Israeli markets will always outperform their American counterparts. But it does illustrate something important about the resilience of Israel's economy, even under the most difficult circumstances.
Looking forward
Whether people want to acknowledge it or not, we are living in a different and rapidly changing world. Very little surprises me anymore. Whether extraordinarily good or devastatingly bad, it sometimes feels as though almost nothing is beyond the realm of possibility. The considerations people are weighing today are vastly different from those before October 7. If you choose to ignore that reality, I can only hope you recognize the warning signs before it's too late.
Whatever your motivation, investing in Israel is not necessarily the same as investing in another country purely for financial gain. Israel could quite literally become the place you never imagined you would one day call home. Perhaps that never happens. Perhaps the property remains an investment, a second home or simply another reason to visit Israel and spend more time here.
But perhaps one day it becomes something considerably more important: a home you already own in the place you suddenly decide you want to be.
Noah Sander is a Canadian-born real estate agent based in Tel Aviv, specializing in helping international buyers and new olim navigate the Israeli property market. Founder of ZionistInvestor.com. Reach him directly: [email protected]