The Hostages and Fallen Soldiers—A Nation’s Determination

My dearest friend (American born, current resident and citizen of Israel) and I made the pilgrimage to the makeshift memorial at the Nova Music Festival site. The hot desert wind blew sand in our faces, and the air rattled with the occasional shelling in Gaza. Mini-shrines have been constructed in rows for each of the 364 young victims–there’s a picture on an easel and at the base, small ceramic red anemone flowers. The flowers are a symbol of the spring the victims will never see. We drove away in silence, overwhelmed by our empathy for the sorrow of the families and the lives cut short.

We returned to Tel Aviv where I spent most of my time.  It is my favorite place to be in Israel. And, even now, it vibrates with life at all hours. The streets are jammed, restaurants are full.  The skyline is truly spectacular. As the old Bauhaus buildings decay and are taken down, sparkling apartment buildings rise up.  Forty story towers are topped by Israel’s national bird: the construction crane. The buildings are concrete miracles, utilizing Israel’s one abundant natural resource: sand. Culture continues. I attended a magnificent yet appropriately subdued production of the Batsheva Dance company. During the performance, the entire audience sang Bashana Haba’ah, perhaps Israel’s second anthem of hope, with the dancers.

Every storefront, every building, every electronic scrolling bus destination banner, every major street corner has a hostage and war related message. Images of fallen soldiers with short bios are pasted on lampposts. How to reconcile the images of the hostages with the throbbing liveliness of Tel Aviv? Here Israelis take their leisure seriously, enjoying life even in the midst of the war and the waiting. We also enjoyed Tel Aviv by biking along the beach. It’s a risky endeavor dodging cars, pedestrians and wrong-way bikers! Perhaps in this juxtaposition of joie de vivre and PTSD one can see the resilience of a nation on display. Eight months after trauma and in the midst of a war, sorrow, pain, and frustration (and perhaps exasperation) are countered by a fierce determination to seize a sense of everyday normalcy.

— Rabbi Ron Stern

Photos of the hostages are everywhere – including on a skyscraper under construction.