Ma Hadash Blog from CSH

--- In early December 2023, Rabbi Michael participated in a service trip to Israel - this is part Two of a series of blog posts recounting his experience. ---

Shalom again - 

Another evening in Israel - I wanted to start by acknowledging a line in that week's parsha, a passage before Jacob goes out into the night and wrestles with the mysterious being.

וַיִּירָ֧א יַעֲקֹ֛ב מְאֹ֖ד וַיֵּ֣צֶר ל֑וֹ וַיַּ֜חַץ אֶת־הָעָ֣ם אֲשֶׁר־אִתּ֗וֹ וְאֶת־הַצֹּ֧אן וְאֶת־הַבָּקָ֛ר וְהַגְּמַלִּ֖ים לִשְׁנֵ֥י מַחֲנֽוֹת

“Jacob was [full of] dread; in his anxiety, he divided the people with him, and the flocks and herds and camels, into two camps.”

In many ways, the Israel and the Israeli people I saw that day give a new meaning to this verse. Much like our biblical patriarch, we find ourselves divided on a personal level, and as a people, as we try to make sense of the events that have happened there on October 7. There on the ground I saw the intensity of these events enter an entire new level as the entire country awaits news of a return of loved ones. The entire country finds itself trapped in the camp of anxious waiting. I did not meet anyone without a connection to a victim, a mourner, or soldier.

And yet, in the other camp of day-to-day reality, life is going on, away from this national trauma. Schools have reopened, people are settling into the hotels they’ve been moved to, and I watched the wedding being held one evening.

I spent a morning in Kibbutz Mishmar HaEmek in the Jezri’el valley, to visit members of the Kibbutz Nahal Oz who are currently being hosted there. During the events of October 7, Kibbutz Nahal Oz was the center of many of the atrocities surrounding the attack. We had the opportunity to sit down with some of the members, and hear their stories.

We spoke to Tami (Tamar) Raanan, whose daughter and granddaughter have been visiting her from the United States in celebration of her 85th birthday, and were kidnapped by Hamas. Due to the efforts of President Biden, both were released recently. Tami has told her story widely to reporters, but took a moment to share with us today both her frustration and her motivation to see everyone else freed. I heard many other stories: of Aryeh, who had to defend himself at Nahal Oz while coaching his son by phone through what to do - and of his son, Yair. I interrupted Yair when he sat down, called over by his father (whom I had happened to sit down next to as I ate lunch). “Yair, do you want to tell me this?” But he reassured me that his therapists had encouraged him to tell his story, and he was glad I was there to listen. Over the next thirty minutes, he told me how fled from the Nova dance party on foot, under fire all the way to Nahal Oz only to discover it was being attacked, and then ran 20 kilometers to the city of Netivot. He talked about hiding in an avocado orchard, being almost discovered, and then continuing on. We spoke to a man who introduced himself as Dani, and said that though he is shaken, he still considers himself a peace activist.

Above: Aryeh and his son Yair, who ran more than 20 km on foot to escape the Nova party and Hamas zone of control.

We spoke to Amir Tibon, a newspaper reporter who sheltered in a safe room for 10 hours with his wife and two infant daughters, and his father, a retired general in the army, drove from Tel Aviv with a pistol and saved them. But we also heard a great deal not reported - the way that Amir and others at Nahal Oz felt totally betrayed and let down by their government, who they understood would protect them.

Amir Tibon Speaking: https://photos.app.goo.gl/cUkQr5jQTTvrBuJz8

And I was astounded at how when the government did not step up for them, others did. Kibbutz Mishmar HaEmek tripled in size overnight as it welcomed members from Nahal Oz without any complaint, despite the strain on its own ability to finance itself.

Every single person we spoke to was grateful (and often astounded) that we had come to speak to them, to hear their story. In one of the most humbling moments, many expressed to me their worry for us. “Are you and your communities okay in the US? We are hearing horrible things in the media about anti-Semitism. Do you need anything?” I reassured them that while things are getting worse, we were all okay.

Another one of the incredible spots of light came from our encounters with the Israeli Reform rabbis we met. Unlike most rabbis, the small, start-up nature of the Israeli Reform Movement means that a small subset of Israeli rabbis travel to cover entire regional areas of the country away from cities, serving as many as 10 different communities. They describe their rabbinate as “suitcase rabbis,” referring to the suitcase of siddurs that they bring with them to help Israelis celebrate Kabbalat Shabbat in a progressive and egalitarian modern way. Now, so much of their work is pastoral comfort and support. One worked directly with communities around Gaza. Another helps the communities hosting those refugees. Still another, Rabbi Miriam Klimova, helps Ukrainian Jewish immigrants integrate into Israeli society even as they are experiencing two wars.

Above: Rabbi Miriam Klimova, who works with no permanent location in Haifa traveling constantly to support her Ukrainian-Israeli congregation.

The mood was somber in most of the work, in the intense conversations, as I witnessed a traumatized people. But I also saw depths of the human spirit - caring, giving, and patience - that I had never witnessed before either.

-Michael
Rabbi Michael, rabbimichael@shirhadash.org