Dear Friends,
Shavua tov, despite good news last night of a unilateral ceasefire between Israel and Hamas, this morning has seen continued rocket fire on Israel’s south from Hamas militants. Nevertheless, I sincerely hope that this week will be a quiet one here in Israel, and around the globe. On a more positive note, I would like to commend Zipora and Moshe Ne’eman for their exemplary work with children in Kiryat Malachi’s bomb shelters this past week. Their work has shown the hope that acts of kindness can do for our Israeli citizens in the south, and is worthy of our praise. Also, I want to let you all know that our interfaith service was well received in the Israeli media, with articles published in 3 of Israel’s major newspapers here in Haifa. I want to thank all of those who wrote to support our efforts for peace, and who included our article in their temple newsletters.
During our weekly Kabbalat Shabbat service this past Friday morning in our preschools, I couldn’t help but think about the future of Israel and our children here. These children may be 2, 3, and 4 years old, but they are not immune to the reality of wars, and what it means to be Israeli. To be Israeli means to know that you will spend your life fighting to exist. Whether it be fighting to find ones place in a society of immigrants, or fighting to defend the country from those who wish to destroy it, this is the harsh reality of our Zionism. At times like this it is easy to wonder if this is the right choice for the children of Israel and their lives, which are bound to the eventual and perpetual service of their country from the time that they are still children (as full time soldiers), until they (the men) are middle aged reservists.
The children in the preschools see their older brothers and sisters serve their country, while already having a past history of sitting in a bomb shelter during their so far short lives. They live a life of not knowing day to day what this and any future wars will bring to their families, and these children know from an early age that they must also one day fulfill the obligation of serving their county to the best of their ability. And they do not forget this until the time that they enlist. 60 years after the creation of a Jewish State, and the Bnei Mitzvah children of yesterday are today risking their very being to preserve what our predecessors spent so much time building with a bit of idealism and a shovel, and what we have managed to maintained and improve upon for 60 years.
The toughness of Israel’s army might make up an important aspect of Israeli culture, but it also makes for a country where individuals count and where everyone plays his or her role, while working towards the common goal of existence among a vast sea of enemies. Still, as I have reached the age in which my obligation to serve has ended, while my children creep closer and closer every day to the age when they will be called up to enlist, I find these thoughts unsettling. In instances like this, I must take a look at the bigger picture, and realize what we are fighting for to begin with. If fighting today, means that the children of tomorrow will sleep soundly in their beds each night, and have different obligations to fill their thoughts and their lives than those of today, then perhaps all of this is worth it.
If fighting for our country means that we are embodying the mantra “never again”, and honoring those who were not given the chance to fight, then perhaps those who have perished in Gaza have not done so in vain. So I leave you with this thought as we welcome a new week and ceasefire, while saying goodbye to another long week of warfare and suffering: May the Jewish people find the strength to fight today for the sake of our children, and our childrens’ children, so that one day we can create a much different reality for the people of Israel, and the people of Palestine. Because the only thing worth fighting for aside from just existence, is a peaceful one.
In Friendship,
Edgar