Israeli Soldiers and Terror Victims Memorial Day- People Not Places

In Israel many towns, villages, cities, kibbutzim and moshavim are named after people. That includes quite a number of yishuvim in Judea and Samaria, such as Givat Assaf, established in memory of Assaf Hershkowitz of Ofra murdered as he passed there, the junction to Beit El where school girls stood yesterday waving Israeli flags to the passing cars, Jewish, Arab and all those "diplomatic plates" on their way.

Yesterday I caught a tremp (hitchhiked) from the Sha'ar Binyamin to Ofra with a young woman. We began to talk, and she told me that she lives in Givat Harel. I asked her how many families now live there; sixty 60 was her reply. I was obviously impressed at its growth.

"You probably remember when there were only ten families" she said.
"I remember Harel" I replied.

Yes, for me they are people, these communities and towns. I taught Assaf's brother, know Harel's family well, and Rachalla Druk, for which Shvut Rachel and Rechallim were named, was a very good friend.

When I look at these places, the homes, gardens, children and public institutions I feel a sadness and also a wonder. I wonder if the precious people whom they are named for are observing and guarding them from their status in Olam Haba, the Next World.

And for many years I've felt that if only we had established these communities sooner, then the victims would not have been killed. This is because the communities in the locations where they now are would never have had been established there if we hadn't been looking for a way to memorialize their lives and values.

Last night as I walked around our traditional display of victims of Arab terror connected to Shiloh, whether residents or family members of those who live here, again, like every year I felt that it had become harder for me than the year before. It just hurts more. I look at the pictures of those I knew and whose families I know and the pain is endless, reverberating as I see those optimistic faces. I see their siblings, parents and grandparents. I see the grandchildren, nieces and nephews they never knew. I see those named after them who will G-d willing be granted long, healthy and successful lives. Recently friends wrote a moving letter that they took their grandson, the first-born grandson of an IDF solder, a friend of ours, who had been killed in action, to enter the IDF. I tried to find the right response as I fought back tears.

"May he merit to bring his grandchildren to join the army, just like you are doing."

We in Israel know very well that our independence did not come easily nor cheaply, and the struggle hasn't ended. I fully approve and agree with the custom of having Israeli Independence Day follow immediately after Memorial Day.

יהי זכרם ברוך

Yihi Zichrom Baruch

May Their Memories be Blessed

When I Hear of Givat Harel and Shvut Rachel, I Think of The Murdered Victims of Terror

The other day, just as I got off the bus at the "city line" between Jerusalem and Benjamin Regional Council, a car stopped and the driver said:

"Givat Harel." 

My mind immediately pictured Harel Bin-Nun, HaYa"D, as a young boy. He wasn't all that much older than the youngster in my head when for the second and last time he was a victim of Arab terrorism. That's when he and his friend were brutally murdered while doing guard duty in Yitzhar, north of Shiloh.  A few years before that he was very seriously injured when Arab terrorists shot up a bus full of women and children on their way to a demonstration to request to then Prime Minister Yitzchak Shamir to be strong during the Madrid Conference and not to let any country browbeat him into dangerous concessions. After his murder, his older brothers established the community of Givat Harel just northwest of Shiloh in his memory.

The driver let me off at the Shiloh Junction and immediately there was another car that stopped for me.

"Shvut Rachel" said the driver. 

And then my mind went into overdrive as images and memories of my friend Rachella Druk,  HaYa"D,  flooded to my brain. We were neighbors; our children friends. I taught most of her daughters, and she took care of one of my sons and later taught one of my daughters. We cared about many of the same things. Rachella was murdered in the terror attack in which Harel had been shot.

Arab terrorists didn't want our message to get out to Shamir. Yitzchak Shamir should have understood that Rachella's death was proof that we had no "partner" to negotiate with. And here we are over twenty years later and many Arab terror attacks and Jewish victims later, and successive Israeli Governments refuse to accept the hard fact that try as they may there is no way to negotiate peace with Arab terrorists.

Now, over a week since the three teenage boys were kidnapped by Arab terrorists, nothing has changed.

Please pray for their safe and speedy immediate return!

My prayers are with the boys and their families and friends. It could happen to anybody...

Gilad Michael Ben Bat Galim, Yaccov Naftali Ben Rachel Devora and Eyal ben Iris Teshura

Succot & Kohelet (Ecclesiastes) A Perfect Match

It's customary to read Kohelet the Shabbat of Succot. I must admit to reading the English translation, but I did study the Book in a Bible class, and in Hebrew. So my knowledge of the book isn't all that superficial.

A couple of years ago, there was a blogging debate about when King Solomon actually wrote it, before or after Shir Hashirim, (The Song of Songs,) and Mishlei, (Proverbs.) I hold a very minority view about it. I think he wrote it first. The writing of Kohelet was cathartic, helping him mature past his "excesses." Only afterwards could he have written the other books. But that's not the main subject here.

When King Solomon writes that the riches, the "good things in life" are all Havel Havelim, hot air, nothingness, norishkeit, he's preparing us to leave our comfortable, sturdy homes and move into temporary huts, succot. One of the main requirements for a succah is a special roof. It can't be solid. It must be fragile. The walls of the succah may be strong, even permanent, but not the roof. It's made of s'chach, leaves, branches, wood. You must be able to see the sky. The roof is the part of the house which protects, and davka, the roof of the succah is the most problematic.

When we're in the succah, we connect with G-d. G-d is our building engineer, the inspector.

During the Od Avinu Chai March, which this year took place in the hills near Shiloh, our local Rabbi, HaRav Elchanan Bin Nun spoke to us. He described the succah as protection. I wish I had recorded his words.

Back to King Solomon's words in Kohelet. King Solomon "had it all," and in the end he realized that it's hevel, nothingness. It isn't the fancy homes which keep us safe, it's living G-d's commandments in the succah, which seems so flimsy.

Rav Elchanan spoke to us two days after our neighbor, Yehudit's, funeral. The actual topic of the Rabbi's talk was the community of Givat Harel, named after one of his sons, who was murdered by Arab terrorists.

L'illui nishmatam:

Harel Oz ben HaRav Elchanan

Yehudit bat Shmuel Shachne