Hello everyone! Happy Chanukah/Holidays from Jerusalem :) This week was a short and sweet week in which I spent most of my time with friends and family, relaxing and enjoying the holiday spirit, indulging in too many sufganiot (tradition donuts with a variety of fillings eaten on Chanukah). I feel the need right now to thank God and publicly recognize how peaceful and calm things have been in Israel in the past two weeks. There was one attack in the West Bank (a terrorist through acid on a family of 5, no one was critically or fatally injured), and many more plans were foiled (including a big suicide bombing in which a Palestinian women planned to disguise herself as a pregnant religious Jew and explode herself in a big crowd over Chanukah). I feel like when things are bad, we dedicate a lot of time to thinking about and reflecting upon tragedy, but when things are good, no one ever stops to say "wow, we are so lucky right now!" In a book my cousin Rachel lent me this week by Chief Lord Rabbi (did I get that right?) Jonathan Saks, he talks about how the fact that we focus on the bad stuff isn't bad, but good. Humans always focus on the outliers, on what does not fit, so the fact that we focus on the bad means that the world is primarily a good, moral, upstanding place. He gave an example of showing a room full of people a big white piece of paper with a single black dot and asking them what they see. The vast majority see a black dot, not the huge white paper, because ultimately, we see what doesn't fit, what isn't right. The fact that murder, theft, and corruption shocks us is because we are so accustomed to honesty and kindness. I thought that was an excellent point. During this holiday season, a holiday which represent hope in the darkest of times (both literally and figuratively, as today is the winter solstice, as well as a time of great tension here in Israel), it is comforting and inspiring to see the country come alive and light up for Chanukah.
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| A man lighting his menorah outside his house. It is ideal to light the menorah in a place where it is visible in order to publicize the miracle, and therefore, most Israelis light in small glass boxes outside their homes. The streets are alight with candle light for 8 nights. |
Israel, and Jews in general, never cease to amaze me. I remember staring ahead at a huge expanse of grass in Poland, realizing I was standing on the graves of 900,000 of my fellow Jews, and feeling humbled by our great loss, but in contrast, inspired by how far we've come since. I remember standing in that field (the former death camp Treblinka), wondering how a people that endured what is arguably the greatest tragedy in history could bounce back from that, establish their own state, and become the thriving, upward-bound, ever-improving people we are today. What other people can say that they survived the greatest mass genocide in human history and, in 70 years, have already achieved so much? I don't know why it is that we're able to do that, when so many other nations, religions, and countries have faltered and fallen over so much less. Our strong communities, held together by strong values and an eternal set of ethics and behaviors? Our commitment to upholding the word of God? Our emphasis on education? Our love and respect for one another? The grace of God? I wish I knew. But I'm so impressed and grateful to be part of a people that is capable of so much, that can transform tragedy into beauty and accomplishment, that can make light of the hardest situations, make jokes at the most trying times, and continue to improve and grow in spite of the world around them.
A couple of days ago we lit the first candle of Chanukah. At 4:15pm that day, I got on a bus home, as it is a commandment to light the menorah in one's own home or sleeping place. The bus was
packed, and in typical Israeli fashion, everyone was yelling at each other, pushing each other hostilely, and elbowing for more room. Still, all the elderly people were given seats, and the atmosphere was cheery and light. I couldn't help but wonder why the bus was so packed-and yet so jolly at this time of day. Then it occurred to me that everyone, religious or not, secular or Ultra-Orthodox, was going home to light their menorahs. What an amazing feeling it was to be pushed around on that sweaty bus as we all rushed home to light our menorahs as soon as we could. What a great feeling it is to be a part of a people that is all united by one code of common practice. When I think about my greatest fears for Israel-it's not the Arabs or the UN or our public opinion in the secular world-we have always had enemies and always will, and non have successfully destroyed us. It's our treatment of one another, Jew to Jew, that I worry most about, a point my aunt Lori brought up that rings so true to me. When I hear about Jews wronging other Jews-the Ultra-Orthodox throwing stones at cars on Shabbat, Jews cheating in business, our inability to agree on so many things when we share so much more than we don't, that's when the real worry sets in. Our temple 2,000 years ago was destroyed because of "free hate", the fact that the Jewish people could not get along. I hope and pray we never face the same problem again. And when I think about that bus ride, despite all the Middle Eastern hostility and petty anger, I think we can move past that, we can get along, and instead of free hate, we can practice free love (not in the 60s way). Love you all a lot lot lot. Rebecca
