Was it a drop of rain, or was it G-d’s tear?

I love my Jewish people. I feel their pain, I hurt their aches, I live their frustrations, I am angry with them when I have glimpses of their rebellious nature and I reprove them like I would a bad child who misbehaves. But then, I feel the urge, that need to take them by the hand and guide them back to the “Promised Land” They are all my brothers and sisters. They are my children and grandchildren.

No, it is not easy being Jewish. I do not envy G-d. To have chosen a nation that would fulfill His Divine command and mission must have been a hard task. For choosing us, Jews and Am  Yisrael, for that role,  we say “Thank you!” To continue to affix Himself with the same Nation that He has chosen despite their rebellious nature, their stubbornness and occasional defiance of Him is even harder. For His Love and His ongoing Blessings we say an even profounder “Thank you!”

Those of us who have had children know what I mean. We do not choose our children. We accept them with love and gratitude. Raising children is not easy. Yet, some of us do all we can to bring them up in the best possible way. We worry about them. We secretly cry their pain. We try to support them, guide them, reprove them and sometimes punish them. We pray for their well-being and success. We secretly hope that they will not fail themselves, us, and those who count on them. We shed a tear or two in the process and continue to hope for the best. No matter what, we still love them.

I asked myself this hot dry summer day, “Who does G-d pray to when His children disobey Him?”

He does not. He hurts. He soothes them. He hopes. He continues to love them and He cries.

I know because I just felt one of His tears.

Why I could never be a Socialist - Some Observations

                                                                           

“Mom,” my daughter asked me, one day, some fifteen ago, “are you a Capitalist or a Socialist?”

“Anyone who works hard for their money has got to be a Capitalist,” I answered without any hesitation.

We were living in New Zealand at the time. In fact, living there for as long as I did, is one experience that has been very instrumental in helping shape my views on the subject. Anyone who has ever visited New Zealand will surely agree with me that it is a Garden of Eden. Two small islands in the middle of the Pacific, still far from any threats as we know them in the Western world, no air force and few worries. The country is as close to the socialist dream as one could ever be. There are no homeless people in New Zealand (at least not when I resided there). The government takes good care of its citizens. Single parents are well cared for as are low income people. All are noble and high moral principles. The epitome of Socialism.

Make no mistake, I am all in favor of government social programs focused on supporting and helping those who are less fortunate in any society. Only cold hearted people would oppose such magnanimous values. I salute such governments.

I do, however, have a serious issue with socialism when it goes unchecked and turns into an abusive tool by those who­­ benefit from it. Eventually, I believe, it becomes a boomerang.  And that is what I, unfortunately, witnessed during much of the ten years that I lived there.

One example that comes to mind is the benefits awarded to single mothers. Watching many high school dropouts electing to get pregnant for the sole purpose of being a single mother so that they do not have to work, have an easier life while receiving government benefits and monies, sometimes more than any job could offer, perplexed me then. In the interest of continuing this life of convenience, they repeat the same when their child has reached that age when the mothers are no longer qualified for single motherhood benefits. They simply get pregnant again, sometimes, or rather most of the time, by a man who may never be part of the child’s future life. That cycle will then repeat itself until that mother reaches the age of retirement when she is eligible for government superannuation. And there are more examples of abusive practices directed at swindling and conning a system originally set with the best intentions for all.

Yes, I am aware that generalizations are always dangerous but I have witnessed many cases, enough to have formed the views that I hold.

Why, or what has prompted me to discuss the subject and particularly as it pertains to New Zealand, now? Very simple. I see a similar trend in Norway, another beautiful country that prides itself of great social values, a country which I have been visiting frequently lately.

Here, too, I see many single mothers, some choosing to live out of wedlock with their partners, the fathers of their children, again, for the purpose of squeezing as much as possible out of the government so that they do not have to work. I speak to people who claim to be unfit for physical work, yet engage in jobs that are much more demanding while being paid monies that are never declared.

Simple logic dictates that in order to be able to maintain socialism, one would need money, a lot of money or what we all know as capital. If so many live off a state and live well, we should stop and ask, who pays for it? How long can a country no matter how endowed it is, sustain and survive such practices or rather such antics by many of its citizens?

אנא מכם, אל תצפו ממני....

                                                                                   

עיני קהות מראות בעוד גלי הדמעות מציפים אותן. ליבי מדמם ונפשי בוכה. הצעקות מחרישות האוזניים של מהותי היהודית מסרבות לשכוך.

אני צופה בנפילת קורבנות הרשע . הם לבנים, כהים, צהובים. הם נוצרים מוסלמים והינדואים. הם עליזים הם רגילים. הם דתיים והם אתאיסטים. הם צעירים והם זקנים. הרשע אינו מבחין בצבע, אמונה או גיל. הוא הורס כל אשר וכל מי שעומד בדרכו להצלתו ולהתגשמות הנבואות המזעזעות שלו.

אולם, בארבעת חדרי ליבי היהודי, יש מקום לאבלם, לאובדנם ולכאבם של בני עמי היהודים. מדוע? משום שכפי שחזרתי והדגשתי בעבר, אם לא אני, מעטים מאוד ,אם בכלל, יעשו זאת.

אינני עומדת לבקש ממך או להתחנן בפניך, עולם יקר, להצטרף לאבלי. מעולם לא עשית זאת ולעולם לא תעשה זאת. אם אי פעם פעלת בנושא זה הרי שהיה זה אך ורק לסייע ולהמשיך לסייע בסלילת הדרך ובהסרת המכשולים העלולים לחסום את השביל בפני אלו אשר שואפים להפוף את עמי למוצר ניכחד בהיסטורית האנושות.

אנא, אל תצפה ממני להצטרף אליך בעודך סופר את מתיך, לאורך אותו שביל אשר עליו עמלת קשות לתכנן עבורנו. אינני יכולה, פשוט אינני יכולה. אני עדיין מתאבלת על מיליוני בני עמי אשר מתו  על אש המזבחות אשר אתם ואבותיכם הקמתם ביזע במאמציכם לטהר את העולם  מקללה ושמה "יהודים."

עולם נכבד, הדמעות אשר אנוכי מזילה עוזרות לכבות אש זו. למרבה הצער, אינך חדל מלהבטיח כי האש תמשיך לבעור בעוצמה גדולה יותר מאשר הדמעות אשר עיני המתייבשות מסוגלות לייצר.

אז אנא ממך, אל תפצה שאצטרף לכאב. הצלקות של כאבי דוחות, תודות למאמציכם, את תהליך ההחלמה מצערינו הרב. אין לי פנאי ואין ביכולתי  להשתתף בכאבך. הקהת את רגישותי לסיבלך. הטעם המר של התרופה אשר האכלת את עמי הרעילה אותנו. היא אכזבה אותך. הפכנו להיות אדישים לה. למרבה הצער היא הפכה אותנו לאשר הינכם-חסרי רגשות.

מעשיך והתנהגותך הנאלחים, הכריחו אותנו להמציא תרופה משל עצמנו. אפילו שם יש לה, "עמנו היהודי הינו בראש מעינינו!" אנו דואגים למענו בראש ובראשונה. אם אויבינו המשותף, אותה מפלצת אשר ילדתם, האכלתם וטיפחתם מותירה את קורבנותיה היהודים לצד אלו שלכם, אנו נתאבל עליהם קודם. אנו נזכור ונזכיר אותם לפני שנעשה זאת לקורבנותיכם.

אנא, אל תצפו מאיתנו לנהוג אחרת

Please do not expect me.....

                                                                           

My eyes are blurry as the waves of tears are flooding them. My heart is bleeding and my soul is crying. The deafening shrieks of my Jewish essence refuse to fade.

I watch the falling victims of evil all around me. They are white, black, yellow. They are Christians, Muslims, Hindus. They are gay, they are straight. They are religious and they are atheists. They are young and they are old. Evil sees no color, no creed and no age. It smites anything and anyone who stands in its way towards its own redemption towards the fulfillments of its revolting prophecies.

The four chambers of my Jewish heart, however, have room to mourn and hurt the pain, the loss of only my people. Why? Because, as I repeated time and again, if I don’t, very few others, if any, will.

I am not going to beg you, plead with you, dear world, to join me on the journey of my bereavement. You never did, you never will. If anything, you only helped and continue to help pave the way and remove the roadblocks that hamper the path for those who target us, those who wish to turn us into an extinct specimen in the history of mankind.

Please do not expect me to join you when you mourn and count your dead strewn on the very same trail that you have toiled so hard to devise for us. I cannot, I simply cannot. I am still mourning millions of my people who died in the fires of the altars of history, alters that you and your ancestors sweated so hard to erect in their efforts to purge this world of a plague called “Jews.”

The tears I shed help extinguish those fires. Unfortunately, you never tire to ensure there are more fires than the gashes which my drying eyes could ever yield.

So please, do not expect me to join you in your pain. The scars of my ache reject, much with your unrelenting support, the healing process of my own agony. I have no time, no ability to share yours. You have numbed my sensitivity to your suffering. The bitter taste of the medicine you have been feeding my people has intoxicated us. It has failed you.  We have become indifferent to it. Unfortunately, it has made us like you, oblivious.

Your antics have forced many of us to produce our own medicine. We even have a name for it, “Our Jewish people come first!” We care for Jews first. If our common enemy, the monster you have given birth to, fed and nurtured, leaves our Jewish victims next to yours, we will mourn ours first. We will remember and commemorate ours before we do yours.

Please do not expect us to do otherwise. 

That Precious Moment

                                                                         

Have you ever experienced a moment towards which you are looking forward, that moment in which you are being cloaked by that very unique feeling over and over again? It is the moment where you sense the wave of adrenaline welling in you, refusing to subside no matter how much you try to control it.  I am talking about a moment that you never tire of, one that you have lived and relived many a times, one that reunites you with that which is central to your life, to who you are and what you are.

Yesterday, Moshe and I relived such a moment. We both had another reminder, not that we ever forgot, of the centrality of Yerushalayim in our beautiful Jewish tradition.

Moshe and I attended a Jewish wedding here in Oslo. Our hearts were fluttering with joy as we were witnessing another Jewish couple entering the marriage covenant according to the “religion of Moshe and Yisrael….” Our Hope is still alive, we both thought, and it’s a few millennia old core is still throbbing!

The wedding took place in an Orthodox synagogue. Naturally, we had to sit apart from each other. Separated physically, yes, but not spiritually, historically and culturally from that which unites us so solidly with a tradition that has brought us thus far.

As the rabbi was going through the various steps of the ceremony, the blessings and reading the Ketubah (Marriage certificate written in Aramaic), we were both, independently of each other waiting patiently for that approaching moment.  We were looking forward to that one moment, one moment that bears great significance to us and should, in our view, likewise be of great meaning to all Jews wherever they are.

That moment did not linger. Unaware of each other’s moves, we both got up from our seats and started to make our way towards the Bimah where the Chuppah was slowly but surely peaking towards that which we had been waiting for, that which our ancient Jewish Zionist essence seeks to reassure and re-affirm over and over again.

I stood there very close to the Bimah as my Jewish soul was cleansing itself in anticipation and preparation to bear witness to the oath, to the pledge which has kept our People’s Spirit alive and invigorated.

Suddenly, I raised my head and glanced over the isle to the men’s section. There stood Moshe waiting, like me, for that precious moment. “Now read this please,” the rabbi instructed the groom. I could feel my eyes welling, the lump in my throat growing as Moshe’s eyes were locked with mine and our lips joined the groom’s as we vowed in unison,
“אם-אשכחך ירושלים--    תשכח ימיני.  תדבק-לשוני, לחיכי--    אם-לא אזכרכי:
אם-לא אעלה, את-ירושלים--    על, ראש שמחתי.
 ( If I forget you, O Jerusalem,
    let my right hand forget its skill!
Let my tongue stick to the roof of my mouth,
    if I do not remember you,
if I do not set Jerusalem
    above my highest joy!)

As long as one pair of lips utters these words and renews this vow, this oath to Yerushalayim, our Hope is not lost. Am Yisrael Chai!

The fragility of the gift of Life

                                                                 

Unlike Hebrew, English has two words to express the idea “providence” ( (גורל They are “fate” and “destiny.” One of my English students once asked me if there is a difference between the two. I suppose there is.

Fate, I believe, is controlled by forces that reside outside of us. These powerful dynamisms lay beyond our control and determine when we enter this world and when we leave it. They also govern certain events in our life. Destiny, on the other hand, is the powerful force that rests within us, one which allows us control our choices, regulate and shape them and our life’s trials as optimally as we can. It is the valve that can help us achieve the most out of the gift our lives.

And Life is a gift, not to be taken for granted. It is a gift to be valued and to be enjoyed. Even our wonderful Jewish tradition teaches us to be grateful for that. It is for that reason that a Jew is commanded to repeat daily the following blessing upon waking up in the morning: “מודה אני לפניך מלך חי וקיים, שהחזרת בי נשמתי בחמלה, רבה אמונתך.” (Modeh Ani Lefanecha Melech Chai Vekayom Shehechezarta Bi Nishmati
Bechemla Raba Emunatecha

I offer thanks to You,living and eternal King, for You have mercifully restored my soul within me; Your faithfulness is great.)

Every day, we are retold of the need to be thankful for it. Every day, we collect indications that tomorrow is never guaranteed, never promised. A few days ago, we commemorated the untimely death of Channah Sharvit of blessed memory, Moshe’s late wife. Stories of unfortunate deaths which cross our life’s path are a constant reminder of the need to celebrate life and highlight those beautiful moments that no money can buy.

Last night, Moshe and I had, yet, another aide-memoire of this very essential calling. This one came in the form of a movie entitled, “Me Before You.” It was a loud wake - up call about the uncertainties that are strewn around every corner of our life’s journey. And there are so many of those.

The movie recounts the life of a young man whose existence has changed overnight following a serious accident that befell him. From a vivacious, talented and successful fellow, he became wheelchair bound and dependent on others. He lost his joi de vivre and any hope for a fulfilling future. A beautiful young care giver walks into his life and toils hard to fill it with exciting and rewarding experiences. Although the young man regains some of his joys of life, he eventually chooses to end his life but not before he bequeaths upon his caregiver the legacy which he himself was deprived of. His tragedy became her learning curve and the fulfillment of his wish for her and others.

That movie brought to mind another movie which I had seen years ago. It is called “The Eighth Day.” The story is about a workaholic businessman who spent hours over hours in the office. He neglected his wife and two beautiful daughters only to see his family falling apart. After separating from his wife, the man met a young man with down syndrome by the name of George. George was a simple man but he had the most important slices of life. He had love, he had joy and he had hope. He taught his friend these values. Eventually, the man was reunited with his family and lived happily ever after. In time, George passed away. As the angels were carrying his soul to heaven, a voice read the first chapter of Breesheet (Genesis), the story of creation. There was one extra verse added to it, though. It said, “And on the seventh Day G-d rested. He looked at His creation and asked Himself, ‘What is missing in my world?’”

“So, on the Eighth Day,” the voice continues, “He created George.”

G-d created a George for each and every one of us. Let us internalize his lesson. Let us take our destiny in our own hands and enjoy the gift we are each given by Fate. Let us celebrate it and bask in its glory. One day, Fate will take it back.

When it comes to Jews and Yisrael, “Open Season” is always there

Borrowed from the hunting domain where the term “Open Season” means  “a period when it is legal to kill or catch game or fish protected at other times by law,” it has also come to suggest a time when someone or something is openly attacked or criticized by many and often for no reason.

Yes, I know, some here will go up in arms and cry, “here they come again waving the ‘victim card,’ the Jews are at it again, Yisraelis are at it again!”

Well, dear readers, if you look closer, or at least try to look closer, you will see that it is not a “victim card” we are waving at you, rather, it is the “reality card!” Nowadays, when it comes to Yisrael, it has become indeed an “Open Season,” mostly by those who wish to bring an end to it and, sometimes, even by those who claim to be sympathizers and friends.

I am appalled anew each time that I see, read and witness clichés being thrown, used, abused and misused when it comes to Yisrael. Let us take for example the term “Apartheid” How many parrot the term irresponsibly when they barely know what it really means and what it stands for?

In anticipation of such ignorance, I always supply myself with a very basic definition of the term. I have used it numerous times to educate those who are in dire need for it. The definition of “Apartheid” that I carry around with me is very basic. It is derived from www.oxforddictionaries.com.It states that “Apartheid” is "(In South Africa) a policy or system of segregation or discrimination on grounds of race"

I challenge our listeners to find one but one such policy or law in the Yisraeli system, one that separates Jewish Yisraelis from other Yisraelis. I urge them to point at any decree that discriminates against anyone based on color, creed, religion or race.
They all remain speechless!

Does it stop them?

I could go on and name other examples of unjustified and baseless attacks against the Jewish state. The venomous kool-aide that many innocent and ignorant victims have been drinking is very potent. Seems that the antidote for it has yet to be invented.

It is not only foes, however, that Yisrael and Yisraelis seem to be open to criticism and attacks to. There are those well-wishers who, out of belief that they only mean well, criticize us, attack us and drag our name through the mud.

Let me indulge you with some illustrations.

Two weeks ago, there was a terror attack in the heart of Tel Aviv. A Christian friend who claims to be a dear friend of Yisrael and the Jewish people, suggested that it was a form of punishment for Tel Aviv holding a gay pride parade a few days earlier. Oh really?  To that we can only say, "we will be damned if we do and damned if we don't."

And then, of course, there are friends who love us so dearly that they feel they can define us, tell us who we are and what we should be. They use terminology coined by Hellenistic heathens who had forced their lexicon upon us, dictated to us what to do, how we should do it and when. Yes, these friends only mean well, we are certain, but should we try to defy their efforts, take our destiny into our own hands and shape it, that is when their true colors come out.

Christian missionaries are a perfect example for that. Of course they will claim they do not attack us. Of course they will claim that they only want to help us. Of course they feel that if they trespass our boundaries and put deceitful leaflets into our mailboxes, they only mean well. After all, their sole wish is to turn us into "complete Jews."

Time to close the season, dear foes and friends. If there is a law protecting animals against hunting, there should be one defending Jews in Eretz Yisrael and the world over. The time when Jews were treated as merely another species in the Animal Kingdom is over. The Ghetto Jew is dead. Yisrael, should create laws to protect its Jewish citizens. Everyone else here seems to be already protected!