Jewish Life in Darkened Times
I sat with Israeli Reform rabbis at Beit Daniel in Tel Aviv. I thought I was there to listen to them, to comfort them. And indeed, Rabbi Galia Sadan was compelled to describe the profound pain and existential fear felt in the days after October 7th.
“You need to understand how we felt. We were scared like never before as we cowered in our homes wondering if the terrorists would knock down our doors. We have never felt as vulnerable, as alone, and as helpless as we did during those early days. “
But then, they wanted to know how we are faring in the U.S. with the rise of anti-Israel rhetoric on our campuses. They were worried about us. We discussed the often-crossed line between legitimate (if unwelcomed and misinformed) protest and opposition to Israel’s policies, reflections of America’s dedication to free speech, and antisemitism. They asked me what it’s like for our students, their parents, and the clergy. I acknowledged the tremendous challenges and assured them that the American Jewish community is also resilient and will prevail.
I parted with my colleagues with each of us deeply appreciating the challenges of the other. They must carry the sorrow of a nation and provide their communities with strength and consolation, hope and determination. Life goes on amidst the war and sorrow: there are weddings, B’nai mitzvah, babies are born and celebrated.
And of course, Shabbat arrives regardless of external events.
Beit Tefilah Israeli (the uniquely Jewish-Israeli synagogue-like community) holds a Kabbalat Shabbat at Hostage Square. The music is subdued and a Mi Sheberach is recited for wounded soldiers, healing families, and hostages – some of whose families are there. And still, this is a resilient nation, so when the music speeds up, the dancing starts.
The next week, I attended Kol Hanshema in Jerusalem. The lovely voice of my dear friend’s daughter guided us through the service, and while I did not catch every word of the Hebrew d’var Torah, the rabbi’s emotions were clear when his voice faltered. We went back to my friend’s for dinner where we were joined by three of her four adult children. The lively conversation went from the value of dating apps for singles (all are yet unmarried) to their careers. Each has served in the army and her two sons are still in regular rotation. They are young, they live their lives. They have learned to compartmentalize and persevere.
We in the U.S. have our own battles to wage. These are tough times for Israel, challenging times for the Jewish people, but we are a people who know how to rise. Our learned and inherited resilience will serve us well.
— Rabbi Ron Stern