Rabbi Michael S. Beals
Most Jewish holy days based in history—Chanukah, Purim, and Passover—follow the same story:
- They tried to kill us.
- We survived.
- Let’s eat.
The traditional foods we eat change between these holy days, but the basic plotline is the same—only the details are different.
My one-week, post-October 7 trip to Israel, organized by the Conservative Movement’s Rabbinical Assembly (RA), December 9-14, followed the same outline of our Jewish holy days.
THEY TRIED TO KILL US
As I entered Ben Gurion Airport, the large, long walkways which connect disembarking passengers to Passport Control and Baggage Claim, were filled with large posters of the 101 hostages still reported to be held captive by Hamas. What was striking about these posters were all the extra details family members and friends added to the posters, including updating their age, because every one of them has aged one year in captivity. While most Americans have all but forgotten the Israeli hostages, and many synagogues forget to add a prayer for the hostages to their Shabbat liturgy, ISRAELIS HAVE NOT FORGOTTEN THEM. Hostages taken by Hamas on October 7, 2024 are front-and-center in the minds of Israelis.
Chief among these hostages is Hersh Goldberg-Polin. Rather than taking his posters down after his young 23-year-old body, executed by Hamas, was recovered from a tunnel in Rafah in the Gaza Strip on this past-August 31, the posters remain. But in the one I saw in Jerusalem, the Hebrew word סליחה “selicha” with a heart was added—meaning “sorry”—sorry we couldn’t do more for you as a nation to save you.
Hersh’s name also appears inscribed in the interior of the oddest public sculpture I have ever seen. Located across from the Givat Ram campus of Hebrew University, where I lived during my first Ulpan classes during the summer of 1987, the Iron Swords War Memorial marks the beginning of the current war with Hamas. It’s odd not only in shape—is it a flower?, a flame?, no one quite knows—but normally war memorials are erected AFTER the war is over; this one was put up while the war is STILL going on. Among the few poems inscribed on the outside of the structure is one called “Cleared for Publication,” by Israeli poet Dael Rodrigues. It opens with these words: “Cleared for publication that our hearts are broken.” The title is poignant because announcements on TV and radio say “cleared for publication” before reading the names of the soldiers killed on any given day. It means the families know already.
My visit to Har Hertzl, the Arlington Cemetery of Israel, located atop Jerusalem’s highest promontory, made it clear that the war still goes on, and that losses are constant as attested to by the freshly dug graves. Rather than neat, tidy, uniform graves, the most recent graves look something like Mexican ofrendas, or shrines for the deceased. The graves are adorned with personal effects of the deceased, from favorite beer bottles to motorcycle helmets or photos of girlfriends. Among the graves I had to visit was that of Philadelphian Michael Levin, 21, z”l, who was killed-in-action during the Second Lebanon War on August 1, 2006. It was the story of Michael, told at Camp Ramah in the Poconos, that inspired our local Congregation Beth Shalom congregant, Jordan Cooper, z”l, to take up the challenge of becoming a lone soldier. Tragically, he died this past summer in Jerusalem, after serving in the reserves after October 7.
The tragedy of October 7 was most clear at a police station Eternal Pillars memorial in Sderot, where Hamas terrorists took over the police station, with a sharp-shooter taking out many rescuers from atop the station. He was stopped when a brave police officer ascended the stairs of an apartment across the road from the station and took him out. His bravery is remembered in a graffiti-like mural across the street depicting the soldier as an avenging, winged angel, using a bow and arrow to kill the terrorist. All throughout Sderot public art and vibrant colors are used as a type of therapy in coping with the death. I was especially impacted by the brightly painted, cement box-like buildings in which residents were supposed to huddle during Hamas’ unpredicted missile attacks. The hope is, with the dismantling of Hamas, these frightening missile barrages will be a thing of the past.
WE SURVIVED
During the RA Mission, I was joined by fellow Conservative/Masorti rabbis from the Midwest and both coasts of the United States, Canada, Brazil, Argentina, England, France, Germany, and Hungary, plus Israeli rabbis. Many of us completed service projects to help Israelis rebuild after the terrorist attacks near the Gaza Strip.
I was assigned to Kibbutz Ruhama, near the Gaza Strip, established in 1912. They became the hosts of residents of Kibbutz Aza, which was destroyed by Hamas terrorists on October 7. With the leadership of the Jewish National Fund—which is doing amazing rebuilding work in the impacted areas—I was assigned to a group of rabbis constructing and painting picnic tables for the Kibbutz Aza refugees, to make their lives more pleasant until their own kibbutz can be rebuilt. The only comic relief of the trip was watching me, who has never handled a power tool in my life, use a drill incorrectly to screw in screws to hold the benches together. A rabbi yelled at me, “You’re stripping it! Pull out and start again!” I DID finally master the drill and did a fine job with the paint! Also impressive, was the JNF-funded the ADI Negev-Nahalat Eran Rehabilitation Village, which was miraculously missed by Hamas terrorists during their October 7 rampage. The village takes care of Israelis with disabilities throughout their entire lives, at no cost to their families. They are particularly busy with out-patients coping with PTSD as part of Israel’s Resilience Campaign Activities. I was struck by how peaceful and loving the place was, with all sorts of healing strategies including equine therapy and working the land.
LET’S EAT
One of the key reasons for my going to Israel was to be supportive of the day-to-day Israelis whose livelihoods have been turned upside down since October 7, 2023. I indulged in the Israel hotel breakfasts buffets, which are legendary, as well as a café latte on Rehov Bet-Lechem in Baka, and a pre-Chanukah chocolate-filled sufganya in the Marzipan bakery located in outer-rim of Machanei Yehuda—Jerusalem’s central locale for culinary tourism. Bourekas, falafel, and shawarma were also on the menu.
I wanted to get the message out to my fellow Delawareans that Israel is OPEN AND READY FOR BUSINESS. A dear Israeli veterinarian friend of mine told me that café life is more joyous than usual, there is more laughter in conversations, because Israelis know what fear feels like, which makes it almost a requirement to enjoy life at all costs, and never take meetings with friends and family for granted. Temple Beth El is planning a community wide trip to Israel by 2030. You have five years so start saving now and join us.
