To travel to Israel during wartime is to experience a different Israel than during any other visit. The clear understanding that we as a Jewish people need one another to survive creates an achdut that can be sensed in almost every interaction. We all just want to help one another. (The truth of our co-dependency—also known as areyvut—is true at all times. It’s just not as clear.)
Rabbis Daniel Fridman, Daniel Feldman, Larry Rothwachs; Rabbetzins Chani Krohn and Michal Goldberg and I led a Bergen County mission from February 20-22. Over 120 people participated in what was an intense and inspiring opportunity to connect with Israel’s people in a way that many of us have never done before. I’ll try to share some of the details and a little commentary along the way.
Tuesday, Day 1: We began at the Dan Panorama where we heard from Jen Airley whose son Binyamin, HY”D fell in Gaza on Shabbat Parshat Toldot. She emphasized the pride she took in her son’s energy and courage. She spoke about her son’s ongoing presence in her life, describing how she continues to speak to him. She explained the nature of this war as one ultimately centered upon Jerusalem, and the need for all Jews to prioritize it in their prayers and in their lives.
The Rinat and Or Saadya group (Bus 1) visited the Shura army base where our heroic fallen soldiers are identified and prepared for burial. I broke away from the mission to attend the funeral of Rabbi Yitzchak Sladowsky, z”l, Debbie Horowitz and Rachel Antosofsky’s father.
I rejoined the group in Moshav Tzlafon, an agricultural village, where we helped a farmer named Yigal harvest lemons. (We did not make lemonade, but Yigal very much appreciated both our help and our presence in Israel.)
After davening Mincha at an overlook in Karmei Yosef we joined the two other Bergen County buses in Tel Aviv for the Alexandroni Brigade 9203 (reserve) awards ceremony. Thousands of people crowded a hangar in Tel Aviv’s port area. Gifts and food were provided to soldiers and their families; the unit had served in Israel’s north continuously since the start of the war. Honors were given to excellent soldiers filled with videos of commanders’ and family’s praises.
My colleagues and I were called to the stage to be acknowledged for sponsoring the gathering. I had the opportunity to express thanks on behalf of Jews throughout the world for the efforts of Israel’s soldiers. Ishay Ribo performed beautifully and shared a new song devoted to the war. We closed out the day with a visit to Hostage Square in the center of Tel Aviv. We saw many artistic calls for the freeing of the hostages, while hearing the families of hostages speak to all of Israel over loudspeakers.
There was a certain irony: the feelings of presence when discussing the deceased, the feelings of absence when thinking of the chatufim and the feelings towards the politicians whom the hostage families called out for their inaction.
Throughout the day, we felt appreciation for our presence in Israel at this time. We felt the strength that comes from being present—from being together. We felt this within our group—we felt this in being a part of Am Yisrael, together at this difficult moment.
Wednesday, Day 2: We woke early and got on the bus at 7 a.m.. We traveled south to the location of the Re’im Music Festival. On the way, we heard a shiur from Rabbi Daniel Feldman on the topic of pidyon shevuyim and the ethics of hostage negotiations. We traveled past the car graveyard in Tekumah.
When we arrived at Re’im, the bus drove down the roads that had trapped the fleeing festival goers. We walked among the memorials for the 364 who were murdered there. There were individual memorials that had been constructed there as well. I was surprised by the three-mile distance of the festival from Gaza. I was surprised by how green and alive the concert site was. As we walked among the trees and flowers, I thought, “These same trees had witnessed the events of October 7. Why are they not crying?” I thought of the last kinah of Tisha B’av evening, ad kama misped b’tzion.
We then traveled to Kerem Shalom. We heard from the kibbutz chairman who thanked us for visiting and told us of plans to grow the kibbutz. (He offered to build a new neighborhood for New Jersey olim). We heard from Talia, a mother of five children and widow of Amichai, HY”D who was murdered on October 7 as he defended the kibbutz from terrorist invaders. She spoke about how much she loved her life in Kerem Shalom. She saw how her husband had added light to Kerem Shalom and how the kibbutz itself had generated so much light: the light of diversity, the light of heroism, and the light of connection to the land.
We received a tour of the kibbutz from old and new residents of the kibbutz. (I translated their Hebrew for the group.) Two women—one secular and one religious—told the story of the kibbutz’s multiple iterations and the decision in 2016 to invite daati families to join the secular kibbutz. They explained how they get along by respecting one another’s individuality and not trying to impose their ideologies on one another. Yet, at the same time, they create a common community that allows people to come together as equals. What an inspiring model!
We then walked through the kibbutz with Eli, the Ravshatz, security head. He explained the battles with over 30 terrorists who attacked the kibbutz on Oct 7. We saw the 30 foot border wall that divides the kibbutz from Rafah.
We then traveled to Yeshivat Hesder Yerucham, the yeshiva which lost nine students in Gaza. We heard from Rosh Yeshiva Chaim Wolfson. He spoke about the yeshiva’s values and the difference it has made to the local community. He addressed the terrible losses by quoting the Sefat Emet’s analysis of the burning bush. The labat eish can be understood as referring to the lev, the heart. Sometimes tragedy or fire reveals the heart. He connected the fire of the sneh to the fire of matan Torah and that of the mishkan. He described the feeling of zechut that the yeshiva felt in fighting for Am Israel.
We traveled to Ashalim, a youth village that had been renovated to accommodate families, where we met with the evacuees of Kerem Shalom. Our group ran activities for the community’s children while other mission participants spoke to adult members of the kibbutz.
We then hosted an amazing barbecue at a large Givati army base near Be’er Sheva. We thanked the soldiers and heard divrei chizuk from Rav Yosef Zvi Rimon. Rav Rimon spoke about the mitzvah to not experience fear in times of war as he praised the commitment and courage of the Givati soldiers. We danced with the soldiers as we sang Am Yisrael Chai.
A day that had begun with dark memorials of a massacre ended with the light of a Jewish people that refuses to be afraid. The steps of this day, the words of widows and roshei yeshiva, of rebirth and renewed commitment took us from that apheila to a tremendous ohr.
Thursday, Day 3: Our day began with walking to the Kotel and davening Shacharit together. There’s something so special about the cool air and bright sunshine of a Jerusalem morning. A friend shouted “Boker mediocre” as we met up at Shaar Yafo. I protested, “There’s nothing mediocre about a Jerusalem morning!”
After grabbing breakfast and coffee, we gathered at the Dan Panorama to hear Rachel Polin and Jon Goldberg speak about their son, Hersch Ben Perel Chana, who was injured and kidnapped at the Nova Music Festival. Like many of the people we met, Rachel and Jon praised us for just showing up (which felt and continues to feel so small).
Rachel and Jon told us their and Hersch’s story. Rachel said if there was one word to describe Hersch, it was “respectful.” Years ago, Hersch came home and told his parents, “I will not keep Shabbat the way you do.” They were happy he told them but it was extremely painful. Despite these changes in Hersch’s observance, Rachel never saw him without a kippah. His explanation: “I will always respect you.” She asked him why he woke early to go to shul when he visited for Shabbat. His response: “I don’t want dad to be alone.” His last texts were “I love you” and “Sorry.” In Rachel’s interpretation, he knew his parents would suffer and expressed sorrow for them in that moment.
Rachel and Jon described how they wake in the morning:
- The words of Modeh Ani: rabba emunatecha, Hashem has faith in me.
- Let’s have some great news today.
- Pretend to be a human—curling up in a ball will not save him.
Jon and Rachel praised the Biden administration for their commitment and empathy. She asked Jake Sullivan what he would do if it was his child. He said that he would hold the administration accountable for their commitments. Rachel said that is exactly what they have done. When you don’t know what stone to turn over, you turn over every stone.
She described meaningful gestures of support to hostage families. She mentioned Rav Zilberstein who stopped a shiur when told that a hostage family had come to see him, with the words, “Chaverim, pikuach nefesh.”
Rachel described hostage-family-life as something like aninut; the mitzvah of pidyon shevuyim is so all-encompassing that families should be patur from other mitzvot. But in some way, the challenge adds meaning to tefillah and mitzvot. Hashem sifatai tiftach. Hamelech yaaneinu b’yom koreinu. She went on to describe how Tehillim helps her at this time. She sees her life as kosi revaya. She continues to feel blessed with the life that she has, her cup overflowing with tears and anticipation for when it will again be filled with blessing.
We then heard from Rabbi Doron Peretz; one of his sons was injured on October 7 and another son was taken captive, Daniel Shimon Ben Sharon. He said that Israel is already victorious in this war by virtue of the resilient response of the Jewish people; its kashiyut oref.
In speaking about the political tensions, he said, “To use only one eye, be it right or left, is to not see depth. We can be blinded by our sight when we think what we see is reality.”
As the father of a soldier who was taken hostage, he emphasized the need for all captives to be part of an agreement. He said that it is immoral to pressure Israel to end this war before the hostages are returned and Hamas’ ideology defeated.
Reflecting on his experience and that of Israel as a whole, he said that we have not had a day of peace in Israel since its founding and that’s okay., Even when it’s not okay, it will be okay.
We then traveled to Har Herzl, where we walked the path that connects Yad Vashem to the military cemetery. We had an excellent guide who played music and poetry that connected to the soldiers’ lives whose graves we were visiting. We said Tehillim after the conclusion of each story. What was most heartbreaking was the end of our visit when we saw the freshly dug graves, including those of soldiers whose families we had met earlier on the trip.
From Har Herzl, we broke up into small groups to volunteer in Jerusalem. My group traveled to Gilo where we helped at Chamal Yerushalayim, a local soup kitchen. I worked with two young Israeli boys, Etai and Elad, deep frying over 100 pounds of schnitzel. We shmoozed about their bar mitzvah parshiyot and their favorite soccer teams. They asked why we had come from America to fry chicken.
We then went to the Leonardo Plaza Hotel where we heard from Jacqui and Yaron Vital, parents of Adi, HY”D, who defended her two children on October 7, killing a terrorist with a rifle before she was murdered. Jacqui and Yaron showed a video of their daughter and her husband and the beautiful kibbutz life they had created. They described their daughter as a lioness and their gratitude for all the support that they had received from all corners of the world. As they told their story, they came to life—their sadness healed just a little by helping us see and appreciate their daughter.
Our mission concluded with dinner; I spoke to the participants, sharing a dvar Torah based on the Ramban’s question regarding the position of the mizbeach hazahav in Parshat Tetzaveh. I asked each participant to think of one word to describe their experience. I asked them to share their word and to listen to that of their neighbor. Then I shared my word, a word that had been emphasized by Talia on our visit to Kerem Shalom. The word is “light.” Amidst darkness and confusion, this trip revealed a special light—a society’s confidence and strength before evil’s dark face.
A final note: I can’t conclude without acknowledging the many participants in the mission who each gave of themselves by not just being there, but by finding every way they could to care for Israel at this time, and without acknowledging Rabbi Daniel Fridman, whose initiative, vision and dedication are entirely responsible for the mission’s success.
Rabbi Chaim Strauchler is the rabbi of Congregation Rinat Yisrael.
