When I lived in Israel and studied in an Orthodox yeshiva, yes an Orthodox yeshiva sponsored by NCSY, I learned that G-d lives in Israel too. You can find G-d in Jerusalem, at home with His bedroom slippers and His newspaper. It was a relaxed view of an approachable G-d. I liked the metaphor. We are closer to G-d in Jerusalem. Gg-d is family. 

At the Kotel, the Western Wall, there is an idea that the Shechinah, the Divine Presence of G-d hovers over the Kotel. The Divine Presence has never left Jerusalem. G-d is still at home in Jersualem. Closer, approachable. Even though we have other teachings that “G-d’s glory fills the whole world”. Even though we are also taught that the Shechinah, that Divine Presence accompanies Israel into exile, (Megilah 20) and returns with them. And it has never left the Western Wall (Rambam Beit HaBechira 6:16) . 

A symbol of that Divine Presence are the mourning doves that hover over the Kotel crying. 

This week I saw a lot of mourning doves. Right here in Elgin. Were they are a sign? Maybe. 

This coming week we will mark Rosh Hodesh Menachem Av. Nine days later we will observe Tisha B’av, a day which marks the destruction of both Holy Temples in Jerusalem. The formal name of the month is Rosh Hodesh Menachem Av. Menachem, meaning comfort. How do we find comfort on Tisha B’av? How do we find comfort today? Can we? 

This week’s portion fascinates me. It didn’t seem to fascinate the Torah Study group as much. That’s OK. On the cusp of entering the Land of Israel, two tribes didn’t want to cross over the Jordan and live in the historical boundaries of Israel. They wanted to live on the other side. Where there was plentiful grass for their cattle. Where their families would be safe. It seemed idyllic to me. And unlike my husband with a degree in dairy farming, I am not such a big cow fan. Maybe it was from that first trip to Israel when I worked in the dairy farm on Kibbutz Revivim. I much preferred picked pears. 

These tribes, the Gadites and the Reubanits negotiate with Moses and together they come to the decision that they will be the shock troops and go in the lead to capture the Land of Israel and then return to land they wanted to settle, with their cattle, wives and children.  

I didn’t remember the part about the shock troops. I don’t know that I would be willing to do that. I do remember the beginning of the war in Iraq. It began with “Shock and Awe”  Shock and awe is a developed military strategy based on the use of overwhelming military power and spectacular displays of force designed to paralyze the enemy’s perception of the battlefield and destroy their will to fight. Who else was up watching what seemed like an amazing fireworks display on March 19, 1996? Yet, we knew that real people were dying on the other end of those fireworks. War is messy. Real people die and I have never been comfortable with phrase “collateral damage.” Shock and awe  wasn’t completely popular even within the Bush administration:  “Before its implementation, there was dissent within the Bush administration as to whether the shock and awe plan would work. According to a CBS News report, “One senior official called it a bunch of bull, but confirmed it is the concept on which the war plan is based.” CBS Correspondent David Martin noted that during Operation Anaconda in Afghanistan in the prior year, the U.S. forces were “badly surprised by the willingness of al Qaeda to fight to the death. If the Iraqis fight, the U.S. would have to throw in reinforcements and win the old fashioned way by crushing the Republican Guards, and that would mean more casualties on both sides.”[ 

We seem to be at another such moment. As the news continue to heat up in the Middle East, and the United States deploys as they say, “more assets” to the region, it seems that an escalating war is inevitable. I don’t want that. I don’t think anyone really does. I know that my friends that live in Israel are alarmed. Afraid. But in typical resilient Israeli spirit they debate things like whether they should drink whiskey or go to the disco or make plans for coffee on Tuesday.  

What I want is peace. What I want is like what the Rubenites and the Gadites wanted. To live in peace wherever they choose. Everyone. Those in Jerusalem, those in Beirut, those in Gaza and those in Tehran. Those in in the Ukraine. Those in Russia. Those in Darfur. The list could go on and on. 

And importantly, even those of us who have chosen to live here. In the United States, removed from the land of Israel, still, by choice in the Diaspora, Galut. 

What I want is the vision of Micah, where everyone can live under their vine and fig tree and none shall make them afraid. That vision was one that was especially meaningful to our first President, the father of our nation, George Washington. He used the phrase over 50 times in his writings, notably in his letter to the Hebrew Congregation of Newport, Rhode Island. 50 times. https://www.mountvernon.org/library/digitalhistory/digital-encyclopedia/article/vine-and-fig-tree   

He, like the Gaddites and the Ruebanites, were peasant farmers. His hope was that these new farmers would be independent and freed from military oppression.   

This vision was one that was shared in the iconic song Bashanah, First written in 1970 by Nurit Hirsch and Whud Manor, it is filled with that unique Israeli hope. One year we will sit on that porch. 

In the first year of the pandemic, the Maccabeat released this version. It was touching then and touching again this morning, “Soon the day will arrive when we will sing together and the distance will just disappear…wait and see what a world it will be.” And those children. Oh those children. They are our hope. 

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5WsWouCsbaQ&t=4s 

 Next year we will sit on the porch
and count migrating birds.
Children on vacation will play catch
between the house and the fields.

You will yet see, you will yet see,
how good it will be next year. 

I don’t know what the new week will hold. I am not a military strategist. I worry about friends and relatives I have in Israel. I worry about the remaining hostages held now for 302 days. I worry about Gareth’s nephew, a professor in Beirut.  

I find comfort as we approach Menachem Av in the children. I find comforat in all of you, choosing to live authentically Jewish lives. Here. I find comfort in friends who are not Jewish who reach out to see how all of us are and what they can do to help. I find comfort in knowing that we can continue to do acts of lovingkindness to make the world a better place just as Rabban Yohanan ben Zakkai told Rabbi Yehoshua when they saw the Holy Temple destroyed.  “Do not be afraid, we still have another way:   It is acts of lovingkindness, as it says: ‘For I desire lovingkindness and not sacrifices’ (Hosea 6:6)” (Avot de Rabbi Nathan, chapter. 4) 

We who continue to live in the Diaspora, by choice, are like the Gadites and the Rubenites. It is now that we need to continue to step up and support our brothers and sisters in the land of Israel, in the State of Israel, who may be on the front lines of whatever is coming next. Reach out to your friends. They are scared. Send money, places like JUF, JNF, Hadassah, New Israel Fund, Parents Circle, which ever organization makes sense to you, whichever one is most authentic to you. Stay informed, with a variety of news media. Jerusalem Post, Times of Israel, Ha’eretz, briefings from JUF. Write or call or even better both your elected officials.  Participate in our programming for Tisha B’av. Find one act of lovingkindness that you can commit to and do it. Stay engaged. Connected. 

Notice the mourning doves. Count those migrating birds. Here. Perhaps they come to remind us of Psalm 30 which we said earlier this morning.  “We may weep at nightfall but joy comes with the dawn… You turned my mourning into dancing, my sackcloth into joy.” 

 Together, we will get through this. Together. That’s what brings me comfort.