Wines of Isreal

As the world grapples with deepening divisions, wars of ideology, and the tragic consequences of religious conflict, I find myself turning to the vine—a symbol of life, connection, and common heritage. In the Holy Land, where Judaism, Christianity, and Islam first took root, wine has been both a sacred ritual and a point of divergence. For Jews, wine holds ceremonial importance dating back to the Torah; for Christians, it represents the blood of Christ and the heart of communion; and for Muslims, despite Quranic prohibitions, early Islamic empires fostered scientific and poetic traditions around the vine. In this post, I explore the wines of Israel, Palestine, and surrounding lands—not just as a taster, but as a seeker. Through examining the history, culture, and enduring legacy of wine in this ancient region, I invite a deeper reflection on what unites us. May the act of sharing wine remind us of the peace we so urgently need.

A bottle of Amichai by Shiloh Winery rests between the sun-drenched hills of Samaria, where ancient vineyards once flourished in the heartland of biblical Israel. Named after the Hebrew phrase "My People Live", this wine is a modern tribute to the land rich with history -- where Abraham walked, prophets spoke, and winemaking traditions date back to the time of King David. Bold and rooted, like the region itself.

Wine has always been more than a beverage—it’s a symbol of ritual, connection, and sacred tradition, especially in the hills surrounding Jerusalem. While the wines of Israel may not appear on WSET or Court of Master Sommeliers tasting exams, I’ve been eagerly anticipating the opportunity to explore them firsthand. In the Holy Land, viticulture is rooted in both soil and scripture, with ancient stone terraces and winemaking tools still bearing witness to thousands of years of tradition. Today, a renaissance is underway as boutique producers revive indigenous grapes and ancient methods, crafting wines that honor history while embracing bold, modern expressions.

A bottle of Psagot Sinai, a bold blend of Cabernet Sauvignon, Petit Verdot, and Shiraz, stands as a symbol of depth and convergence -- much like its namesake, Mount Sinai. Crafted in the ancient hills near Jerusalem, this wine weaves together rich notes of dark berries, spice, and earth, echoing the sacred mountain where Moses received the Ten Commandments. Revered in Judaism, Christianity, and Islam, Mount Sinai represents a moment of divine connection across all faiths. In every sip of of Psagot Sinai, we taste not only the strength of the land, but the enduring hope for unity, reverence, and peace among all people.

For me, the wines of Israel evoke more than just flavor—they summon memories of a class I took at Stanford University with Dr. Patrick Hunt, a renowned archaeologist and historian. The course, focused on the history of wine, explored the deep religious and cultural symbolism that has accompanied viticulture for millennia. We studied everything from Jesus turning water into wine at Cana to Noah planting a vineyard after the flood, and even the Code of Hammurabi, which regulated wine sales in ancient Mesopotamia. Those lectures sparked a lasting fascination with how wine has always been more than a drink—it’s been a vessel of ritual, survival, and celebration across civilization.

A glass of Tiberias Coast Cabernet Sauvignon gleams with deep ruby hues, showcasing bold aromas of blackcurrant, dark cherry, and subtle hints of Mediterranean herbs. Grown in Israel’s Galilee region—renowned for its volcanic soils and cool breezes—this wine captures the unique terroir that has nurtured vines since ancient times. The Galilee, mentioned in the Bible as the place where Jesus famously turned water into wine at Cana, continues its storied legacy as a cradle of winemaking in the Holy Land.

The story of viticulture in the Jerusalem region is as old as civilization itself. Archaeological evidence points to wine production in the Levant dating back over 5,000 years, with ancient wine presses, clay amphorae, and grape seeds unearthed in the Judean Hills and surrounding areas. These remnants tell a story of a people deeply connected to the vine—cultivating grapes not only for daily sustenance but also for ritual and trade. Wine was more than a beverage; it was a symbol of prosperity, a staple of hospitality, and a sacred element in religious ceremonies for the Israelites and their neighbors.

Jerusalem, perched strategically along ancient trade routes, played a crucial role in the dissemination of wine culture across the ancient world. From the bustling markets of Jerusalem, wine traveled through caravan routes to Egypt, Mesopotamia, and throughout the Mediterranean basin. These trade networks helped shape regional winemaking techniques, grape selection, and fermentation practices that influenced the viticultural landscape for centuries. Even under successive empires—Roman, Byzantine, Islamic—wine remained woven into the fabric of everyday life and faith. Today’s Israeli winemakers often find themselves retracing these historical steps, reviving lost varietals and tapping into millennia of tradition to bring the ancient wines of Jerusalem into the modern glass.

A bottle of 2022 Gilgal Cabernet Sauvignon from Galilee rests on the table, its rich garnet color hinting at the depth within—while my two dogs, Annie and Lucy, lounge contentedly on the couch in the background. Crafted by the acclaimed Golan Heights Winery, this expressive red reflects the volcanic soils and cool climate of the Upper Galilee, a region where ancient biblical footsteps once echoed. Today, this historic land speaks through wine, blending centuries of tradition with modern Israeli winemaking.

Though roughly the size of New Jersey, Israel is a dynamic and rapidly evolving winemaking region defined by its complex terroir, dramatic microclimates, and diverse landscapes. Stretching 424 kilometers from north to south and bordered by Lebanon, Syria, Jordan, Egypt, and the Mediterranean Sea, Israel spans 20,770 square kilometers and features three main geographic zones: the coastal plain, the central mountainous spine, and the Jordan Rift Valley. These regions host a wide range of soils—including limestone, terra rossa, volcanic tuff, calcareous clay, chalk, and alluvial loam—that support a rich viticultural potential. In recent decades, a new generation of innovative winemakers has propelled Israeli wine onto the global stage, experimenting with indigenous grape varieties and modern techniques to produce high-quality wines that are increasingly recognized and awarded internationally.

Wine is one of the most enduring symbols in Judeo-Christian tradition, often used to represent covenant, blessing, and divine presence. In the Hebrew Bible, the vine is a frequent metaphor for Israel itself—"You brought a vine out of Egypt," reads Psalm 80, evoking both God's care and the people’s calling. In the New Testament, wine takes on even deeper sacramental meaning, from Jesus’ first miracle at Cana—transforming water into wine—to the Last Supper, where wine becomes a symbol of the new covenant. These references go beyond mere agriculture; they elevate wine to a spiritual conduit, binding the earthly to the divine. Across centuries, wine has also played a central role in ritual life: in Jewish tradition, it sanctifies Shabbat and holidays through the Kiddush blessing, while in Christian liturgy, wine becomes the blood of Christ in the Eucharist. In both faiths, the act of drinking wine is not simply cultural—it’s deeply spiritual, a shared inheritance of sacred tradition poured into every cup.

A bottle of 2022 Gilgal Cabernet Sauvignon from Galilee rests on the table, its rich garnet color hinting at the depth within—while my two dogs, Annie and Lucy, lounge contentedly on the couch in the background. Crafted by the acclaimed Golan Heights Winery, this expressive red reflects the volcanic soils and cool climate of the Upper Galilee, a region where ancient biblical footsteps once echoed. Today, this historic land speaks through wine, blending centuries of tradition with modern Israeli winemaking.

Jerusalem’s ancient hills and sun-drenched terraces are home to indigenous grape varieties that tell the story of a land steeped in resilience and tradition. Grapes like Marawi, Jandali, and Baladi—once nearly forgotten—are being revived by modern winemakers determined to reconnect with the region’s biblical roots. These native varieties, shaped by Jerusalem’s limestone-rich soils and Mediterranean climate, produce wines with distinctive minerality, herbaceous notes, and vibrant acidity. Their flavor profiles—earthy, spiced, often floral—offer a sensory window into what ancient Israelites, priests, and traders might have sipped thousands of years ago. Drinking these wines is more than a tasting experience; it’s an act of historical immersion, a way to savor the terroir that nourished some of humanity’s earliest expressions of agriculture, faith, and culture.

A bottle of Psagot Cabernet Sauvignon stands poised above the rocky terraces of Jerusalem's hills, where the vines cling to limestone like faith through the ages. Just miles from where Noah, the Bible's first winemaker, planted a vineyard after the flood (Genesis (9:20), Psagot carries forward a divine legacy of renewal and resilence. Crafted in one of the oldest wine regions, this bold Cabernet tells a story as ancient as the Ark, yet alive in every glass.

From ancient stone reliefs to mosaic floors in forgotten synagogues, wine and grapes have been etched into the visual history of Jerusalem and the surrounding regions for millennia. These depictions—clusters of grapes carved into lintels, amphorae adorned with vine motifs, and ceremonial goblets buried in tombs—speak to wine’s elevated role in both daily life and divine worship. One notable discovery is a 3,000-year-old wine cellar unearthed at Tel Kabri, where dozens of large jars suggest large-scale wine production during the Canaanite period. Another is a Roman-era mosaic in a Galilean synagogue showing vines intertwined with ritual symbols, reflecting the integration of viticulture into spiritual identity. These artifacts don’t just preserve ancient craftsmanship—they tell eternal stories of community, celebration, and the sacredness of cultivation. Through them, we see how wine wasn’t merely consumed; it was revered, recorded, and remembered in stone.

A bottle of Barkan Reserve Cabernet Sauvignon from Israel glows deep in ruby in the Judean Hills Sun, its aromas of ripe blackcurrant, tobacco leaf, and Mediterranean herbs rising like a prayer. On the palate, bold dark fruits, cedar, and earthy spice unfold with firm tannins and a long, savory finish -- testament to the region's warm climate and ancient terroir. From a land marked by both history and hope, this wine speaks to resilience and craftsmanship. May every glass poured be a quiet call for peace, understanding, and unity across borders.

Wine flows through the pages of the Bible as both a literal drink and a powerful metaphor. In the Old Testament, wine is a symbol of divine blessing—“wine that gladdens human hearts” (Psalm 104:15)—while also serving as a cautionary emblem of excess and judgment, as seen in Proverbs and Isaiah. The New Testament elevates wine further as a representation of Christ’s sacrifice and unity with believers. These scriptural references mirror the dual nature of wine: a gift to be cherished and a symbol to be respected. Beyond sacred texts, historical manuscripts and artifacts—like wine-stained pottery shards, wine lists on ostraca (inscribed potsherds), and ancient winery blueprints—demonstrate the deep integration of viticulture into daily and spiritual life. From the vineyards of Noah’s post-Flood world to the coded laws of Hammurabi regulating wine commerce, these textual and archaeological remnants reveal how wine has long been entwined with law, land, and liturgy.

As I reflect on the sacred wines of Jerusalem, I can’t help but think back to my early days as an altar boy at St. Thomas More Church in Brookings, South Dakota. Even then, I sensed that wine carried meaning beyond the chalice—an echo of something ancient and reverent. That same spirit endures in the vineyards of Jerusalem, where culture, history, and spirituality converge in every bottle. Understanding the deep roots of viticulture in this holy region not only enriches our appreciation of wine today, but also connects us to a timeless human story—one of celebration, covenant, and communion. In a time when the Middle East and Ukraine are engulfed in devastating conflict, my hope is that these shared stories—and the act of breaking bread and pouring wine—might offer a quiet path toward peace. Wine, after all, is a symbol of hospitality, of sitting together at the same table. May we honor that spirit and raise our glasses not in triumph, but in understanding. And may peace, someday soon, flow as freely as the wine from these ancient hills.  I invite you to explore these sacred wines with intention, and in doing so, join a living tradition that stretches back thousands of years, bridging faith and flavor with every sip.