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From The Rabbi
The dream of a return to Israel took on a degree of reality back in August on the day that our eldest child left home for a year of study in Jerusalem. Yet, as the date of our planned visit got closer, I began to second-guess myself. Ariela's decision to spend her freshman year of college in yeshiva in Jerusalem had already divided our family; but as an eighteen year old, she was entitled to explore the world and begin to chart her own course. As Leslie and I packed our bags two days before we were scheduled to leave for our journey to see our daughter; with typically Jewish parental feelings of guilt, I fretted over our other two children, Talya and Hillel, who would stay behind. After all, not by force but by choice, the family was being further divided. In the aftermath of September 11 and in the midst of an intifada, I was not sure that the trip at hand was such a good idea. My good judgement was further challenged as we drove from West Hartford to the airport in New York, all the way listening to the breaking news of three suicide attacks within minutes of each other in central Jerusalem.
My doubts were set aside at 35,000 feet somewhere over the northern Atlantic Ocean. I was talking with the ELAL passenger in our row who was travelling with a young child. In the course of our conversation, I learned that the child was turning three years old and the trip was a family one to celebrate the child's upsherin (first haircut). "This child will never remember this journey," I said to myself; nonetheless, it is obviously a priority to this family to observe the ancient ritual in the holy land, and the virtue of a life committed to priorities transcends almost all other concerns. This child may not remember this trip, but he will grow to appreciate values. I may never cross paths with that family again, but I will remember them for a long time for the perspective and tranquility of spirit they helped me achieve.
Hillel and Talya have surely gotten over the week that their parents were away; hopefully they will always remember of the virtues of our decision.
For years, local and national campaigns of Jewish Federations were conducted under the banner of "now more than ever". Reflecting on the week I spent in Jerusalem in December, it is clear to me that the State of Israel and our brethren there need us now more than ever. During our stay, our hotel was operating at one-tenth of capacity. We visited the Bible Lands Museum, and we were the only clients on the premises. Restaurants were far from busy and proprietors of small stores were crying for business. Yes, there was a suicide car bombing while we were there; yet, we were on that street less than three hours later and all signs of terror were already cleaned away. We conducted ourselves and planned our days with due caution and our trip was wonderful. Of course, seeing Ariela was blessing enough. Yet, praying at the Western Wall, walking the Jewish Quarter, and strolling through Geulah and Meah Shearim enhanced the experience. At no time did we ever feel in danger or at risk. Quite to the contrary, we felt welcome, valued and appreciated.
Was our sense of security and safety artificial? No more or less than it is here in West Hartford. The fact of life is that it comes with risks, crime and terror are random, and all accomplishments of merit are achieved against the odds of risk. The intifada reported by the world media is a price of a stalled peace process measured in hundreds of lost innocent love. The unreported price of the intifada is the struggle of national morale and financial hardship endured by brethren and loved ones who courageously live in the land, with no intentions of leaving. Their number might be measured in the millions, but each is a hero. The existence of a hero can sometimes be lonely, relieving that loneliness is the least we can do for them.
The Torah (Bamidbar/Numbers:13 & 14) tells the story of twelve spies who ventured from the desert of Sinai to the promised land. Their mission, as charged by Moses, was to scout out the land and its inhabitants, and to return to the Jewish people with a report. The spies explored Canaan for forty days, and returned with a mixed message. Ten men said, "loh nuchatovah h'aretz m'ode m'ode -- the land is exceedingly good". Understandably, the nation responded to the ten spies and became despondent. The truth, though, rested with Joshua and Calev who were able to see the blessing and the beauty beyond the challenges and the fears. Many Diaspora Jews have put off trips to Israel because of the fear and the uncertainty. Having returned safe, exuberant and confident, my wife and I are two Diaspora Jews who return home with a report of goodness.
The land calls out to Jews around the world. Our brethren who live there seek our support. And, the future of the peace process might very well rest with us at least as much as it rests with them. If the meisters of terror are successful in keeping us away from the land and in separating Diaspora Jews from Israeli Jews, the attacks will surely continue; but, if Jews there and here are able to muster the courage to see beyond the panic and horror, to keep open the avenues of unity and tolerance, a major victory will be at hand. The choice is ours, and the time is now more than ever before.
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