Kosher Apple Jacks?

I did not know Apple Jacks were kosher. I never really bothered to ask or to think about it. I won't eat them for a variety of reasons. But when you do think about it you have to ask, how can a cereal that is mostly sugar and that is not healthy for kids really be kosher? Oh, you might say that I am missing the point. The point is that for those for whom this matters the cereal has a hekhsher and they can eat them or not depending on their penchant for sweet cereal. But then this weekend I discovered how even the most kosher of cereals can become trafe. We read the tale of rabbis accused of laundering money and in some instances even hiding cash in Apple Jacks cereal boxes (and apparently selling human organs on the black market as well!). If you really want to read more about this sad and embarrassing story click here. And so the real point is that kosher is not just about the food we place in our mouths. The kosher certification on the outside of the box cannot make unethical behavior ethical, cannot transform trafe into kosher. There are some who are by all appearances religious, but in actuality are anything but. When someone is scrupulous in their ritual observance but ignores such basic human, ethical mitzvot, such as "You shall not steal," they are not religious. The fact that they are rabbis and are therefore regarded as representatives of religion in general and Judaism in particular is in the Talmud's estimation, a hillul ha-Shem--a desecration of God's name. I am saddened and embarrassed that the Torah I so love was defamed, that people will now say, "Why do I need religion?" My answer might be: You need religion to remind you that no matter what cereal you eat in the morning, you require a community, a book and a God to prod you to do good in this world. No one sees what you eat for breakfast, everyone sees (eventually) whether your hands bring healing or harm.

The People of Jerusalem

Enjoy my latest video of the people of Jerusalem. You can find it on my YouTube channel. There is a wonderful mix of people here. It is certainly no melting pot and sometimes there are even clashes. During my stay here there were protests about a parking garage being open on Shabbat and violent protests when social services intervened in order to hospitalize a toddler from the Neturei Karta Hasidic sect. For a summary of this particularly troubling incident and the issues involved read this Jerusalem Post article. Despite this simmering tension between Jerusalem's Zionist and non-Zionist Jewish populations, on most days all co-exist. Jerusalem is a wonderful city, filled with life. Enjoy the videos.

The Object of Art

Last week we visited Israeli artist, Jo Milgrom. She is the mother of my colleague and friend, Rabbi Shira Milgrom. Her sculpture garden features "recycled" Jewish ceremonial objects. She collects discarded tefillin, Torah covers and other assorted objects and turns them into artwork. She said, "'Turn it over' may also mean 'overturn it,' to escape sameness and stereotype. Better a fiesty, controversial life than dullness and burial." For a number of my colleagues her artwork turned sacred into profane. I, on the other hand, found that it to gave new life to ancient symbols. Sometimes you have to be forced to look at things in new, surprising, different, controversial and perhaps what might even be called sacrilegious ways to appreciate their deeper meaning. Is it unholy to place a Torah mantle in a different context and to hang it from a living tree rather than covering what Jewish tradition terms the "tree of life"--the Torah? This could not be the sculpture garden of a synagogue but it makes you think. Thinking in new categories is one of the objects of art. For more pictures of her artwork click here.

Mount of Olives

Today our group traveled to the Mount of Olives and in particular to the churches and cemeteries on the east side of the Old City. On top of the mount is what may be called the holiest Jewish cemetery. Here such Jewish greats as Ramban (Nachmanides), Menachem Begin (prime minister), Shai Agnon (Israeli Nobel laureate) and Rabbi Abraham Isaac Kook (first chief rabbi and mystic) are buried. Here Jesus spent the evening with his disciples before his crucifixion. Although it is in the heart of East Jerusalem it provides an extraordinary view of the Old City, the slope of the mountain gives the impression that one is peering into the confines of the city's walls. From this vantage point the golden dome of the Dome of the Rock, the silver cupola of the Church of the Holy Sepulchre and the new, white gleaming dome of the Hurva (Ramban) synagogue now being rebuilt can be seen. For more pictures click here. As one walks down the hill one moves from a Jewish cemetery, to Christian graves and churches to Moslem graves. Each successive ruler built their cemetery closer to the walls, although Zechariah's enormous grave is located in the valley. The gates to the Old City in the picture above were covered by Muslim conquerors because it was through these gates that the Jewish messiah would enter after resurrecting the dead on the Mount of Olives. (I never really understood why a messiah would be turned back by bricks, but such has always been the politics of this place.) It is for this reason that this mount continues to hold special power over Jews. Here they will first experience the redemption and therefore be the first to be resurrected. I have never felt the pull of such graves. History has its pull, but not graves as holy places. It is instead the living, bustling city, that continues to serve as the holiest of destinations.

Idan Raichel Concert

This evening my friends and I went to the Idan Raichel concert at the Israel Museum's sculpture garden. It was a perfect Jerusalem evening, with a comfortable breeze and a few stars scattered across the sky. In attendance were a mixture of young and old, secular and religious. Idan Raichel is a most unlikely image. He is of Ashkenazi roots but looks more like a Rastafarian. His songs are sung in Hebrew, Amharic (Ethopian) Arabic, Ladino and even English. He plays the electric keyboard and accordion. There is a mixture of instruments: electric guitars, oud (Arab guitar), flute, clarinet, shofar, and an array of percussion (my favorite being what appeared to be an upside down wooden salad bowl in a pale of water). It is a mixture of Middle Eastern, Latin and Ethiopian music. He appears to be like my favorite Johnny Clegg, who as a Jewish youth in South Africa combined the sounds of Zulu with English lyrics--years before Paul Simon's Graceland. I have no doubt we will hear more about Idan Raichel. Go to his website for more information about his work and watch this trailer to get a feel about his band's extraordinary trip to Ethiopia. This evening's concert began with the words: erev tov Yerushalayim--gooood evening Jerusalem! To my ears I still hear prayer when I hear Yerushalayim, but this evening's concert was instead the living reality of Israeli life. It is not a prayer. It is a mixture of cultures and languages, black and white, Ashkenazi and Sephardi, Hebrew and Arabic, English and Amharic.

Jerusalem Shabbat

It was a wonderful Shabbat in Jerusalem. For Kabbalat Shabbat services I attended Shira Hadasha, a modern Orthodox synagogue, filled with hundreds of young people. Like most Orthodox synagogues there is a mehitza, a curtain partition separating the men's and women's sections. Unlike most, both men and women lead the praying. Not a word of the prayerbook is skipped. All the words are sung to wonderful melodies. For Shabbat morning services I attended a Reform synagogue, Mevakshei Derekh, where my cousin is the cantor. They use an Israeli Orthodox prayerbook, but make a number of changes in the prayers. Since everyone is comfortable with the Hebrew, the changes are made by the congregants and not in the printed prayerbook. There was a bat mitzvah, with her especially proud parents, and an informal kiddush. It looked and felt most like our services except of course that it was all in Hebrew--even of course the announcements. At both of these synagogues I felt welcome, although given that their customs are unlike ours I did not feel entirely at home. I felt the least at home on Shabbat afternoon when my friends and I walked to the Old City. There we find a Sephardic minyan praying minhah (the afternoon service). Their beautiful Torah scroll housed in a silver case was magnificent. We were welcomed, but the service, although familiar, was not at all my own. I stood with my friends for whom this traditional service had far more pull. Then I realized that in every other place one must think about which direction we face for our prayers. When we are standing at a shiva home on Long Island we discuss which way is East. When I am standing in Jerusalem the question is: which direction is the Wall. When standing at the Wall, the stones beckon you to prayer. After a long Shabbat walk from the Old City to the Tayelet I returned to Emek Refaim for Motzei Shabbat--the going out of Shabbat. The empty streets began to return to life. The restaurants and cafes began to fill with people by 9 pm. The streets were still crowded at 12 midnight. Here in Jerusalem Shabbat mirrors the seasons. In the heat of Shabbat afternoon the city rests and it was very few people to be found strolling. In the evening, following havdalah, the city returns to play. Walking these streets is where I feel most at home, and where my prayers feel answered.

Blessing of Rain

One of my favorite spots in Jerusalem is the Tayelet, a promenade facing the south side of the Old City. Above is a picture taken from this spot. Click here to view more pictures taken from the Tayelet. The other day there was the most surprising of occurrences, a brief misting of rain. It was not a rain like we are accustomed to in New York. Nonetheless it was the rarest of events. It seemed to herald a new mood here. I sense a greater feeling of optimism and hope this summer. In the Amidah we add the prayer for rain during Israel's winter rainy season. When here we add the words: morid ha-tal--who causes the dew to fall--in the summer. Until the other day this was purely theoretical and only an imagined reality. Walking the streets of Jerusalem I felt the mist of these words for the first time. I smiled as I felt Jerusalem's bright sun and this brief rain. It was a day where my prayers met my reality. The possibilities for such a realization are more likely to occur here in the land of Israel rather than in my New York home. This place makes for unforeseen opportunities for hopes, dreams and prayers to be realized. Amen.

Shabbat Shalom from Jerusalem

Everything feels different here--in Jerusalem. When I am in the States I worry about the threat of Iran. I worry about the unlikelihood of peace with the Palestinians--and disagreements with the new Obama administration. I worry about the simmering tensions with the ultra-Orthodox. (In fact there were riots yesterday in the city's ultra-Orthodox neighborhoods.) Still when I am here it feels entirely different. I arrived to find the mood upbeat and hopeful. There are less guards and soldiers. The outdoor pedestrian mall of Ben Yehuda is packed with people. The cafes of Emek Refaim are filled. This is the most optimistic I have found Israel in the past seven years. Still just being here fills me with hope. The lover when separated from his beloved, by the expanse of oceans, worries about his beloved far too much. The heart cannot be placated from afar. But when he is with her his heart is at ease. As the Psalmist proclaimed: "When the Lord restores the fortunes of Zion, we shall be like dreamers, our mouths shall be filled with laughter, our tongues with songs of joy." (Psalm 126) To view a brief video message on this theme click here.

Hiking Wadi Qelt

Today a number of us hiked Wadi Qelt, in Hebrew Nahal Prat. A wadi the Arabic term for a dry river bed that runs through the desert. The last time I hiked Wadi Qelt was some 20 years ago. I had been unable to return here because of the turmoil of the past years and in particular the first and second intifada. Even though Wadi Qelt is right outside of Jerusalem, it is in the West Bank and therefore few hiked there. It was in fact the site of a number of terrorist attacks in the past decades. Today this all seemed like ancient history. It is a striking place. (During my winter visits it is off limits because of the danger of flash floods.) The heat and barren hills of the Judean desert soon give way to the cool waters of the spring fed stream. There are pools to swim in and lush vegetation, particular wild mint called Nana, to be found in the wadi. Hundreds of school children played in the pools nearest the spring. Two monasteries are carved into the cliffs. The square holes that served as the monks entrances to their solitary caves can still be seen. For me there is nothing like climbing these hills and swimming in spring fed pools in a barren desert. It is in places like these that Abraham first dreamed of God--and where today I better understood his dreams. The lines of life and death, faith and drought, water and barrenness, seem much clearer in this desert. For more pictures of our trip click here.

YouTube Walking Tour

We did not have classes on Friday so I spent several hours walking around my favorite city. I walked from my apartment on Emek Refaim through the Old City and to Mahane Yehuda, the open air Jewish market. Follow the link to watch the video I made with my new camera. I am just getting the hang of making and editing videos so you will have to forgive this first, rough attempt. Nonetheless I hope this short video gives you a feel of the city I love. You can watch the video by clicking here.

Jerusalem Film Festival

This evening I attended the opening of the Jerusalem Film Festival in the outdoor amphitheater of Sultan's Pool, adjacent to the Old City's Walls. It is the Jones Beach of Jerusalem. After a number of speeches and awards I was delighted to watch an Israeli comedy, "Sippur Gadol--A Matter of Size." It is the story of how four overweight men and one woman come to terms with their size and of course themselves. They renounce dieting and embrace Sumo wrestling. As you can imagine this is a recipe for some wonderful humor and some even better insights into human nature and relationships. After the past years openings featuring Disney and Pixar films, I was thrilled to see an Israeli film this summer. It is magical to laugh with Israelis outside the city's walls. Given this year's movie, imagine a Jimmy Buffett concert at Jones Beach on a cool summer night. Replace the ocean with Jerusalem's stones. You can get a feel for the experience by watching the video below.

Jerusalem

My favorite poet, Yehuda Amichai, writes often about my favorite city, Jerusalem. He writes of the interplay of what the rabbis called the heavenly Jerusalem with the earthly. Here the air is thick with dreams and prayers. Here the streets echo with the sounds of young people studying, people scurrying to morning services, buses rumbling on Emek Refaim, and cars honking their horns. It is this very tension that I, as a frequent visitor, find so refreshing and rejuvenating. For those who live here, they see instead people who are forever trapped in the heavenly city, floating through the streets as if on a magic carpet. The truth is that there are too many people here struggling through the day to day of the earthly. Last evening we met with Nir Barkat, the new 48 year old mayor of Jerusalem. Barkat left his career in high tech several years ago. He created a charitable foundation with his millions and then entered politics. He decided that the city of his birth and the object of his love deserved his best efforts. His salary is one shekel per year. He is refreshingly idealistic. He believes that with good management and business acumen the earthly Jerusalem can be improved. He does not appear terribly concerned with the heavenly, but his idealism and love suggest otherwise. He worries that Jerusalem will soon lose its Jewish/Zionist majority. According to his estimate this might occur by 2035. His hope is that by investing in Jerusalem's unique cultural heritage this city will once again be a magnet to foreign tourists and more importantly a destination for secular Israelis. It is sad to say that the earthly Jerusalem is less of a pull than the heavenly. This city is more the stuff of prayers than of walking its streets. I pray that his efforts and his idealism succeed and that he, in his own words, enables all people to love Jerusalem in their unique and different ways and to do so by touching this city's earthly reality. I love my prayers. I love being here even more.

JCB Vision

This is a working draft of a mission statement for our JCB community. Your comments and suggestions would be most appreciated.
The history of Long Island synagogue life is a history built on a shtetl model of old. Synagogues were built around town identities. Synagogues focused on their functions (specifically what services they provided) rather than their visions. Once a town's Jewish population reached a critical mass a synagogue was formed to fill the needs of the area's Jews. This shtetl model is bankrupt and will fail to guarantee the future of Long Island synagogue life. Let us instead recapture the personal connections and warmth of shtetl life without its pitfalls, namely the dependence on one town's Jewish population. Let us help our fellow Jews find a synagogue not out of convenience but rather out of commitment, where they are attracted to the synagogue's vision and mission. In our mobile society where people drive to the best store, restaurant, show or beach why should they not as well drive to the best synagogue? With a one day per week Hebrew School why should families not be willing to drive to a centrally located synagogue that is in keeping with their vision?
The JCB revolves around the following principles:
1. A community built on personal connections, warmth and intimacy where not only the rabbi but fellow members know each other in order to support one another in times of crisis and help lift each other higher at simchas. In keeping with this principle our congregation only schedules solo bar/bat mitzvah celebrations. We are also an inclusive community welcoming interfaith couples and encouraging both partners' participation in the life of the synagogue.
2. Our Shabbat and holiday services provide a respite from the world's troubles. Our services are meditative, joyful, inspiring, intellectually stimulating and participatory where music and song, teaching and poetry play central roles.
3. The backbone of our community is lay involvement. We are energized by the ideas of our members and welcome the participation of all.
4. We are a learning congregation. Our Hebrew School is built on the ethic that only learning that is enjoyed is learned well. In addition we offer a myriad of adult education programming. Jewish learning--talmud torah--must not stop at the age of 13 years. Our learning enables us to become better Jews, but also better citizens, more educated about the issues our country faces and more in tune with cultural phenomena. We are open to learning from all streams of thought, both Jewish and secular, modern and ancient.
5. We are committed to the world around us through the values of tzedakah, gemilut hasadim, and tikkun olam. We are committed to helping our neighbors, both those who live nearby and those who live in distant lands, especially those connected to us by our shared Jewish traditions. We seek to maintain a deep connection to the land and State of Israel.

Obama and the Muslim World

I have been meaning to write for some time about President Obama's speech in Cairo and his trip to the Arab world the first week of June. First, a brief moment of relish. For me one of the most remarkable photos was that of Obama sitting to the left of Saudi Arabia's King Abdullah and to his right, Rahm Emanuel. I know Emanuel no longer lives in Israel. He is instead the White House chief of staff. Still you have to smile when you think about the symbolism of a Jew (and an Israeli) sitting next to Saudi Arabia's king...
Regarding President Obama's speech there is much to be said. There are positives and there are negatives. Let us first say loud and clear that Obama deserves enormous credit for traveling to the heart of Islam and speaking there words of passion and truth. Saying here is far less important than saying there words such as these. "The sooner the extremists are isolated and unwelcome in Muslim communities, the sooner we will all be safer." President Bush rightly saw the world in clear, bold lines between good and evil, friend and enemy. Let us not be naive. We have enemies. Yet how we see the world is not always how we should deal with the world and so a new strategy was required. We do not know yet if Obama's new approach will produce positive results, but if the elections in Lebanon and the simmering of revolt in Iran are measures then we can allow ourselves to be cautiously optimistic. Where the speech failed was in its treatment of Israel. It was not that he called for a Palestinian state or even in the abandonment of settlements (although I would qualify settlements to include only isolated settlements--both geographically and ideologically). My disappointment was instead in his misunderstanding of Zionism. President Obama spoke of Jewish suffering as that which lends legitimacy to the modern State of Israel. I wish Emanuel had whispered in his ear the following: It is also the United Nations (remember the vote on Partition), the Bible, Jewish history, the Hebrew language. It is the fact Jewish life begins and ends in Jerusalem and the land of Israel. It has always been our focus. It was once our dream. Now it is our reality. Despite these misgivings I conclude with our prayers who wrap words of hopes in the stones of Jerusalem. Words can change worlds. Words can move mountains. Peace begins with the word shalom echoing forth from the land of Israel.

Shavuot

This evening begins one of the most important, although ironically least observed, Jewish holidays: Shavuot. I have often wondered why the day that celebrates the giving of the Torah is not number #1 of our holidays. I suspect it is because the holiday lacks a central home ritual--and perhaps because it falls in late spring or early summer. Passover is better timed (especially because of school vacations) and has of course the seder. Sukkot the sukkah. Hanukkah the menorah. Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur draws people to their synagogues. Purim carnivals entice parents to lead their costumed children to celebration. Shavuot has a book--the Torah. This to be sure is a hard sell. But this book is the center of our lives. It is the love of Torah, the love of books that has nurtured the Jewish soul for countless generatation. Rabbi Tzvi Hirsch (who died in 1719) takes this view to an extreme when he argues that if one even finds a book shelved upside down, one is to turn the book right side up and kiss it. (Sefer Kav haYashar) In addition, for most reading a book is a solitary activity. Reading a book while being warmed by the sun and soothed by the ocean's waves is for many a #1 activity. Yet Judaism insists that we not read alone. So it is not so much the book but rather how we engage it that does not fit with contemporary society. Many are comfortable leafing through a book's pages or scrolling through a Kindle, but sitting across the table and arguing over every word and every phrase is what makes Shavuot feel remote. For Judaism literature is not an escape, to be relished on vacation, but a daily activity, a central enterprise. Studying Torah is how we engage the world. It is why we care for the world. On this Shavuot take time to re-engage Torah and thereby re-engage the world. Begin here with these websites: Shalom Hartman Institute and Nextbook. Chag Shavuot Samayach--a Happy Shavuot!

Memorial Day

One year I was driving back from officiating at a funeral at one of the Jewish cemeteries on Pinelawn Road. As I approached the military cemetery I realized that it was Memorial Day weekend so I pulled into the cemetery. I parked my car and with my Rabbi's Manual in hand I walked the grounds searching for a Jewish grave marker. It did not take me long to find such a grave. I opened my manual and recited El Malei Rachamim (the traditional prayer said at a grave). It was a beautiful Spring day and the cemetery grounds had been manicured and prepared for the next day's services. The distance between sacrifice and every day life is far too great. I suspect it was less in prior generations, but in mine it is so great as to be almost invisible. I had to take a detour in order to see the multitude of sacrifice--thousands of crosses and hundreds of stars. I had to look through the beauty of Spring to see the simple grave with a Jewish star, standing among rows of thousands. I do not know how a country sustains a war--even one as righteous as fighting our avowed enemies of the Taliban and Al Qaeda--when ordinary people are detached from the sacrifices it demands. A soldier's grave derives meaning from the prayers of his fellow citizens. If we do not even know that these prayers are required of us then how we will sustain any war?

Yom Yerushalayim

A few weeks before Israel's 1967 Six Day War Naomi Shemer submitted her now famous song entry, Yerushalayim shel Zahav, to the Independence Day song competition. The theme for that year, at the insistence of Teddy Kollek, was Jerusalem. Jerusalem of Gold was performed on May 15 and became an instant sensation. Interestingly the first version of the song did not contain any mention of the Old City. By the time of the competition, and at the suggestion of friends, Shemer added the second verse about the empty market places and the Jewish longing for the Temple Mount's Western Wall. A few weeks later the IDF's soldiers stood at the Wall and cried. The army's chief rabbi blew the shofar and those gathered there broke out into song, singing Jerusalem of Gold. In a few short weeks the song had become the war's anthem, its hopes and longings a new reality. Shemer composed a new and final verse: "We have returned to the cisterns, to the market and the square. A shofar calls out on the Temple Mount in the Old City. And in the caves in the rock, thousands of suns shine. We will once again descend to the Dead Sea by way of Jericho." These verses were not without controversy. Amos Oz, for example, criticized Shemer for suggesting that the city was empty until Jews returned. Arabs of course lived there and continue to live in Jerusalem. The Old City's Arab shuk continues to bustle with activity. Yet something had indeed changed. During the years 1948-1967 Jews could not pray at the Western Wall. Jews could not walk among the ruins of King David's palace. There was an emptiness in our hearts. There is no more longing for these stones. Every summer I return to Jerusalem to rekindle the fires in my Jewish heart. Indeed the air there is as "clear as wine and filled with the fragrance of pine." Yet I share Amos Oz's worries. What happens to a people when they get what they most wanted for thousands of years? Every day I thank God that I am privileged to live in an age when the dreams of my great grandparents is my reality. The question remains: is there room in my dreams for another's reality?

Obama and Israel

I have been thinking a lot about this question. Does our new president understand and appreciate the worries and existential angst of Israel and Israelis--and of course Jews? Jeffrey Goldberg's article in Saturday's New York Times provides an excellent analysis of this dilemma. While I fully believe that President Obama appreciates the significance and importance of the State of Israel to the Jewish people, his priorities will not always coincide with those of Israel's leaders. His interests are not the same as Israel's. That Israel's government and the United States's leaders might sometimes disagree is normal and natural. If Obama disagrees with the priorities of Israel's Netanyahu this does not necessarily mean that he is abandoning Israel. Friends can also tell friends that they are wrong. In actuality this does not mean that they are not friends. It is in reality a greater testament to friendship when friends can disagree. Loving criticism means that the friendship is far more than superficial. Disagreement means that the friendship is not just about "I need this from you and you need that from me." Still, here are my worries. The increasing mantra that "If only Israel would do x or y, then there would be peace," suggests a lack of appreciation of recent history. Yes, Israel has allowed settlement expansion and the construction of the security fence to at times inflame Palestinian hatred. But the root cause of the conflict is not Israel's capture of the West Bank from Jordan and its subsequent construction of settlements. Most Israelis would blindly give away the store if the Arab world would do but one thing--accept the legitimacy of a Jewish state in the Middle East. If the Arab world, and especially the Palestinians, would come to terms with Jewish sovereignty over at least a portion of the land of Israel, then the ground would give way under the settlements. Then the security fence could be taken down. Finally most if not all Israelis and Jews have learned that we must take antisemites at their word. When the leader of nearby Iran says, repeatedly, that he wants to destroy Israel and he hosts a conference denying the Holocaust, we cannot ignore his words. When he seeks to acquire and build the weapons to make his words a reality we must act. Waiting and inaction embolden Iran and its leaders. Mr. President I believe you are our friend. Understand our worries. Pay heed to our fears. They are legitimate and real.

Yom Haatzmaut

This evening marks Yom Haatzmaut--Israel Independence Day. On this day we celebrate 61 years of an independent Jewish nation in the land of Israel. In the above pictured hall David ben Gurion declared on the 5th of Iyyar 5708, "This recognition by the United Nations of the right of the Jewish people to establish their independent state may not be revoked. It is, moreover, the self-evident right of the Jewish people to be a nation, like all other nations, in its own sovereign state.... Our call goes out to the Jewish people all over the world to rally to our side in the task of immigration and development and to stand by us in the great struggle for the fulfillment of the dream of generations--the redemption of Israel." To read the full text of the Proclamation of the State of Israel click here. To listen to its concluding words in Ben Gurion's own voice, and my favorite part, the thunderous applause, click here. The applause of course captures my mood and should most reflect your feelings. Despite the fact that Israel still faces many enemies who refuse to even affirm its existence, despite the fact that the United Nations which helped to give birth to this nation has become instead more a forum for antisemitism and anti-Israel sentiment, the Jewish state continues to thrive. There people celebrate life. There people celebrate Jewish life. For thousands of years Jews only dreamed of a state in the land of Israel. Let us never take Israel for granted. Israel deserves our thanks and our applause. Take a moment to relish the fact that our generation of Jews is living the dream. "When the Lord restores the fortunes of Zion/we shall be like dreamers/our mouths shall be filled with laughter,/our tongues, with songs of joy." (Psalm 126) Amen! Applause!

Yom HaZikaron

This evening begins Yom HaZikaron--Israel's Memorial Day, when we remember Israel's fallen soldiers. The gravestone above sits at Har Herzl--Israel's military cemetery in Jerusalem. It reads: "Anonymous/Fell in the Battle of Jerusalem/9 Sivan 5708 [June 16, 1948]/May his soul be bound in the bond of life." In the War of Independence Israel lost over 6,000 soldiers of a population of approximately 800,000. In all Israel mourns 22,570 soldiers. Israel paid, and continues to pay, a high price for its freedom and security. (133 died in the past year.) I remember the first time I visited Har Herzl. Unlike Arlington where one is overwhelmed and awed by the vastness of its grounds, Har Herzl makes you gasp because it appears small but is in fact deceptively large. It is terraced and built into Jerusalem's hills. There are a hundred graves here and another there and then even more around another corner. With each terrace one confronts another of Israel's wars: the dead from 1967 and those from 1973, from Lebanon and the Sinai. You think that you have completed your tour of the grounds only to discover another terrace with more dead. And then one day I stumbled upon an empty terrace, as if waiting to welcome more young sons and daughters. The empty spaces of New Montefoire make sense. One day, after many, many years, every one finds his/her way there. The empty terraces of Har Herzl do not make sense. They should not make sense. They must not make sense. Let no more terraces be cut in Jerusalem's hills. Let no more young children die to defend our land... Let our small patch of land and its people know peace.
For a poignant reflection by Rabbi David Hartman about Yom HaZikaron and Yom Haatzmaut (Independence Day) read this.