Last night we sang 18 songs of peace. I am attaching the song sheet. Hashkivenu is one of my favorite songs. A Jewish lullaby asking for peace when we lie down, spreading over us a sukkat shlomecha, a canopy of G-d’s peace.

Don’t know any of these songs? Try Craig Taubman’s setting of Hashkivenu which Sarah and I sang as a duet last night.

I announced earlier this week that I would talk about Jacob and Esau’s birthright and what it means to be a modern Zionist. What I wanted to talk about had to do with how Rebecca was responsible for making sure that covenant continued and the strong role that she played in this. What I wanted to talk about was the Women at the Wall and how 6 more women were arrested this week for davening at the Wall on Rosh Hodesh Kislev. Seems wearing a tallit and saying the Sh’ma out loud is disturbing the peace. Something we take as natural here at Congregation Kneseth Israel. I want to have those conversations but not today. Today there are even more important topics. Today we all stand with Israel.

Today’s parsha is about two blessings, one for Jacob, who will carry on the covenant. One for Esau. Isaac’s eyes were old, too dim to see. There was supposed to only be one blessing, for his first born son, Esau. He was tricked and he gave the blessing to Jacob instead. There were supposed to be no do overs. Yet Isaac courageously gave a second blessing, righting a wrong he created. Esau is described as ruddy, hairy, warlike, hungry, willing to sell his birthright for a pot of lentil stew. AJ Liebling said “Freedom of the press is guaranteed only to those who own one”. He should know. He was the great New Yorker publisher. We, who recorded the “history” need to be careful of how we describe the other. Likewise, we need to be vigilant as to how the media is portraying the current crisis. On Sunday I was here for the Hadassah program—thank you Zimmermans and Sternfelds. I announced that 80 bombs had fallen in southern Israel that afternoon. I think I surprised some people who hadn’t heard that it. It wasn’t being well covered in the American press. Israel has an absolute right as a sovereign nation to defend itself. It has a responsibility to counteract negative media commentary. Many will say—including much of the mainstream media that Israel is the aggressor. Not true.

Today, as I promised, I need to tell you why I am a Zionist and what that means to me. For two thousand years, Jews prayed for a return to Jerusalem. We prayed for it this morning in the Ahava Rabbah prayer when we asked for us to be gathered from the four corners. We prayed for it in Amidah. We say it at the end of every Yom Kippur, every Pesach, Next Year in Jerusalem. We longed for peace throughout the world but particularly in Israel. Last night we sang 18 songs of peace. Jews are a peace loving people. It wasn’t hard to collect 18 and we could have done more. I think we could have come up with enough songs and prayers to keep going to midnight or beyond.

In the late 19th century, Theodore Herzl became the first modern Zionist, calling for a return to the land of Israel. He had a dream. Im tirztu ain zo aggadah. If you will it, it is no dream. Sort of the original if you build it, they will come. A Zionistic field of dreams. And they did. Despite a precarious world situation some Jews started returning to Israel. You know the history—so that is not for today either.

On mornings like this it is hard to know what to do and what will help most. But it is Shabbat and we are commanded to rest. To be and not to do. So I can talk about statements that have been made. I can tell you where to give money—and that is always the preferred method. I can tell you I am pleased that URJ and the Jewish federations are doing just one fund rather than running separate fund. I can send the link out after Shabbat. I cam tell you we have members that are being directly effected and they will need our support. One wants to collect art supplies specifically for the children in shelters in Kiryat Gat. I have a friend that has collected and shipped over 150,000 teddy bears to Israel for children effected by terror. None of this seems like enough. I can tell you we need to keep our eye on the media and that after Shabbat we all need to write letters. Again, it doesn’t seem like enough.

Keep in mind that I am a rabbi and despite a background in intelligence, I am not a military strategist.

I could use the Edmund Flegg quote that appears in the back of our siddur. He is more eloquent than anything I could write myself.

I am a Jew because, born of Israel and having lost her,
I have felt her live again in me, more living than myself.
I am a Jew because, born of Israel and having regained her,
I wish her to live after me, more living than in myself.
I am a Jew because the faith of Israel demands of me no abdication of the mind.
I am a Jew because the faith of Israel requires of me all the devotion of my heart.
I am a Jew because in every place where suffering weeps, the Jew weeps.
I am a Jew because at every time when despair cries out, the Jew hopes.
I am a Jew because the word of Israel is the oldest and the newest.
I am a Jew because the promise of Israel if the universal promise.
I am a Jew because, for Israel, the world is not yet completed; men are completing it.
I am a Jew because, above the nations and Israel, Israel places man and his Unity.
I am a Jew because above man, image of the divine Unity, Israel places the divine Unity, and its divinity.

In each of those you could substitute Zionist. I would add:

I am a Zionist and I stand with Israel because whenever there is a disaster anywhere in the world Israelis are the first to show up…and are effective, competent and welcome in their response.
I am a Zionist because born of necessity, Israel has written the book on how to do trauma therapy and how to treat PTSD.
I am a Zionist because even when they need to defend themselves, like right now, they continue to treat victims from Gaza and the West Bank in world class Israeli hospitals. I wish the press would cover that more.
I am a Zionist because even when war and self-defense is necessary, Israelis continue to sing and hope and pray for peace.
I am a Zionist because whenever the world closes its border to victims of genocide like those from Rwanda, Sudan and Darfur, Israel opens hers.
I am a Zionist because Israel is a democracy. Different than the American democracy to be sure, but a democracy nonetheless.
I am a Zionist because Israel values education. Israel has a thriving economy with unemployment of only 7%, with more Nobel prizes per capita, with a health care system that works.
I am a Zionist because I love my cell phone, and guess what, because of security issues, cell phones were invented in Israel.

Does this mean that Israel is perfect? Far from it. There are issues with women’s rights, as I mentioned before. Not only are women prevented from praying openly or in groups at the Western Wall, women have been attacked for wearing tefilin and are prevented from sitting on some bus routes—despite Supreme Court rulings to the contrary. Life cycle events of Reform and Conservative rabbis in Israel are not recognized. Questions of Who is a Jew continue to haunt. Pluralism as a word does not even exist in Hebrew. Most Israelis are secular not religious and the Orthodox right wing can hold Israel hostage. Israel has a poverty issue. Yes, even in Israel. Israel’s military does not always hold to halachic law on how to fight. When they tear down olive trees in the West Bank, that violates not cutting down a fruit tree as specified in Deuteronomy 20. There are human rights violations that organizations like Rabbis for Human Rights continue to document. Do we have an obligation to speak out as Jews, as Americans? I believe we do and I will continue to do so. Is it right to hold Israel to higher standard, to a higher authority? Although I love the Hebrew National commercial I am less clear in this case. Israel wants to be a light to the nations but it comes with a huge cost. I think that part of our role as American Jews is to hold Israel accountable without being judgmental. It is a hard role for both.

Today however, I speak as a Jew and a mother. I know the pain first hand of loosing an Israeli soldier. No one should have to go through the pain that Yuval’s family and I went through during the first incursion into Lebanon, on either side. That, plus all those songs for peace—the idea that we should seek peace and pursue it, makes me a peacenik. We should always seek an alternative, again and again and again. We should not give up trying diplomacy. During the Yom Kippur War in 1973 this song was penned:
Ani mavtiach lach, yaldah sheli k’ntah, sh’zot t’hiyeh hamilchamah haachrona. (I promise you, my little girl, that this will be the last war.) That is almost 40 years ago. How many more years, how many more wars, how many more promises?

I had forgotten this song until I was driving from Boston to New York for school and Israel was fighting in Lebanon. Israel struck an apartment building by accident. Thankfully no body was hurt but the interview was striking. A young father with a three month old who lost every material thing he had said, “We had no problems with the Israelis. Now I fear it will take 20 years to get over this. 20 years my child doesn’t have. An entire generation wasted.” When I remembered this song I cried through much of Connecticut.

My little one, Sarah has friends who now serve in the Israeli army. After her summer at Brandeis she went to college while her Israeli friends went into the army. Every Israeli friend I know has been called up—world wide. They are being gathered from the four corners—from New York, from Germany, from Panama, from Canada, from Denver. How many more years, will we make this promise to our children before it becomes a reality? I don’t think any mother wants to send her child off to war. I don’t think any mother wants to worry about whether the school bus will be bombed. I don’t think any mother wants to use her children as human shields.
So I sing the song again—this time for my one little one. I hope it is not an empty promise.
Ani mavtiach lach, yaldah sheli k’ntah, sh’zot t’hiyeh hamilchamah haachrona. (I promise you, my little girl, that this will be the last war.)
Isaac found the courage to give both his children a blessing. I pray this morning that we find away to bless all our children, even the children of the ones we call enemy with peace. This is my blessing for my child, for all our children. Ken yehi ratzon.