The time just before Pesach I described as being hectic and pressured in a different message, but the time after Pesach is another thing entirely. Less than a week after the end of the seven day experiment in limiting personal freedom, Israel remembers the Shoah, the Holocaust perpetrated against the Jews by Nazi Germany. The radio stations play only sad songs, or no songs at all, entire TV channels don’t broadcast, and most school children will go to school in a white shirt, as they do on the day that marks the beginning of any Jewish holiday. Survivors speak from platforms all over the country, and schools often will invite students who have visited Poland and the concentration camps there to share some of their experiences. It’s an important day to remember, not in order to exact vengeance, but in order to honor those whose lives were taken from them, whose childhoods were stolen, who have no one left to say Kaddish. And the next day we are back to our usual selves. But are we really? Can we ever be exactly the same people after being reminded of the depths of depravity to which our own neighbors sank?
I leave that question open, but I will expand on my now different sense of time in Israel, especially after Yom HaShoah and before Yom HaZikaron. These days have marked me for many years and, like water on a stone, have worn a groove in my expectations. Yom HaShoah had its date chosen to commemorate the Warsaw Ghetto Uprising. Yom HaZikaron, Memorial Day for Israel’s War Dead and the Victims of Hate had its date chosen for it. There can be no celebration of Israel’s Independence without FIRST acknowledging, honoring and mourning the thousands who died in its defense. So a week after we recall the Shoah, we again enter a minor mode musically, again there is little entertainment available on TV and radio. In the evening of Yom HaZikaron the entire country comes to a halt at 8 pm as sirens are sounded throughout the country and we observe a full minute of silence to honor the sacrifice of those who made the existence of the country possible. To be clear: there is a siren sounded on Yom HaShoah, but it happens during the morning of the day, when the sun is shining, when we can imagine a day without a need to remember genocide. On Yom HaZikaron, we BEGIN our remembrance by shattering our quiet. We join together even though each person is alone in his or her grief. And because there are never enough words to express the mourning, the bereavement, the ongoing lack where once our loved one were - we are silent as we listen to the siren.
Memorial Day is only 24 hours long, but it stretches out relativistically, like Yom Kippur when you’re a young child, seemingly endless. Every year there are new songs written by/for fallen Israelis, there are more creative ways to memorialize the ones who have gone. The 24 hours of Memorial Day are never enough to adequately honor the lives of those we remember, but we must set aside our recollection of the past and look ahead to a better tomorrow. As the sun goes down on Yom HaZikaron the beginnings of celebrations of Yom HaAtzmaut begin. Quietly at first, but after the country is draped in full darkness the parties begin to intensify. Municipalities often invite a big name for the main musical performance and have a city wide block party at a park or open public venue. And yes, there are fireworks and general rambunctiousness like on July 4th here in the US. Years ago there was a trend to prepare inflatable “hammers” and bop people on the head just for fun, especially small children on their parents shoulders. How can you get annoyed at an overjoyed seven year old drunk with “power”? It’s like a national pressure release valve – almost the entire country comes out to celebrate and those who have to work get paid double for their time. On kibbutz there’s Israeli dancing, but don’t expect that to mean only Hebrew songs! Salty Dog Rag and Cotton Eyed Joe are classics at this point, and Scatman and Zodiac are getting there quickly. In such a young country dances are still being created and taught – in August there is a multi day Israeli Dance Festival and Competition near the town of Carmiel, so Yom HaAtzmaut is a good time to check out the competition and up one’s game if necessary.
There’s a darker side to these days: given the ongoing Occupation, there are always protests leading up to Yom HaAtzmaut, and security tightens significantly in the territories immediately beforehand. Jerusalem has been a flashpoint in past years, and unbridled celebration is a thing of the past. I pray this year we will not see the potential for mass violence realized: I am encouraged given that the recent Christian Holy Fire ritual passed without major incident.
Only a week separates Yom HaShoah from Yom HaZikaron yet the space between them is almost unfathomable. That is reserved for the ability to turn around and take off our mourning attire and join together again, this time to celebrate and give thanks for all we have as Israelis living in a country that is still democratic. As the Israeli song reminds us, we don’t only give thanks for the honey, we must also be thankful for the bee’s sting.
על הדבש ועל העוקץ, על המר והמתוק,
על בתנו התינוקת שמור אלי הטוב.
My good God, watch over me: over the honey and the bee’s sting, over the bitter and the sweet, over our baby daughter.
(It rhymes in Hebrew but you get the idea) The song’s title is “For All These” and was written by Naomi Shemer for her sister following a tragedy. It became the anthem of the right wing settlers movement Gush Emunim during the 1980’s as they opposed the return of Sinai in the peace agreement with Egypt. The rest of the country understood we needed to make painful compromises, and that divide has never been knit together until this day.
Shabbat Shalom Rabbi Leah Benamy
