In Israel, Thursday, the 22^nd day of Shevat, 5785, will surely be a day enshrined forever in the long, storied history of the Jewish people. It may or may not register much in America, except for some blog post or possibly a newspaper article of the event. There will be sighs and emotions for a moment, which may even last a few moments, possibly even an hour. Then it’s off to Target or the JCC.

It won’t be anything like that here in Jerusalem and the whole of Israel, today. I don’t say this to cast aspersions on our brethren who don’t live in Israel. G-d forbid. I know there are millions of Jews around the world who will be heartbroken by the news and pictures. What I am trying to say is that it won’t be life as usual in Israel. Not today.

Earlier this morning, the remains of the Bibas family (or so we thought – more on that later) and Oded Lifshitz were returned from Gaza in coffins. Most of the world will yawn. But for us living in Hashem’s land, it is a day of grieving, a day full of sadness and restrained, silent rage. While other days have been weighed down by similar sorrows over the last 500-plus days, there have been none quite like this one. The entire country is in a state of shock even though most feared this day would come. Now that it has arrived, it is far worse and heavier than anyone could have imagined. A malaise has taken over the city and the country; everyone is wondering how we got here and, more importantly, how we keep from, G-d forbid, getting back here. 

In the spring of 1985, I was recruited to lead an NCSY summer program, which at the time was the only one the OU offered teenagers. They called it ISS: Israel Summer Seminar. My reluctance notwithstanding, I was encouraged to do so by a few NCSY regional directors, one of whom requested I take his NCSYers from the West Coast and be their madrich (counselor). Though I had never been to Israel before, a free trip seemed like a great idea. Our group consisted of teenagers from Florida, Kentucky, Pennsylvania, Ohio, Indiana, Oregon, Maryland, and of course, California. I am happy and proud to say I still have relationships with a good number of those NCSYers to this day, and while I continue to refer to them as “my kids,” they are now thankfully my friends, whom I still love very much.