The Holidays Affectionately Known as "the Yoms"

Pardes observed Yom HaZikaron by visiting Har Herzl, the military cemetery in Jerusalem. It was an intense experience, even though we went near the end of the day. Many of the families had visited the graves of their loved ones in the morning, and the detritus of these visits was visible all over the cemetery in the form of plastic wrappers from bouquets, empty water bottles, and yahrzeit candles burning next to the graves. In one of my classes when we went back to school after both holidays, Rav Levi shared the words of someone in his community who lost someone in one of Israel's wars: "We have the yahrzeit, that's when we mourn - Yom HaZikaron is when you mourn with us."

The transition to Yom Ha'atzmaut from the mourning of Yom HaZikaron was quick. I wasn't sure exactly what intention I wanted to take into Yom Ha'atzmaut with me. As my friend Alanna said, my lefty political values and my Zionism don't need to contradict each other. We went to a טקס(tekes=ceremony) sponsored by Yesh G'vul, designed to be an alternative to the state-sponsored ceremony at Har Herzl. It was definitely a snapshot of the Israeli left; there were more people than I expected to see, and a diverse group with respect to age - I even ran into an old friend, Idan, with whom I had worked 3 summers ago. I was disappointed by the ceremony itself. I thought it was boring and dry; I was looking to have my lefty neshama moved and stirred up by the hard work being done by the social change workers they chose to honor with beacon lighting.

The one moment that did give me some of those chills was when all of the children present were invited to come up and light the final beacon. I think, for me, that is the intention, the kavannah for Yom Ha'atzmaut: a lot of good has been done in this country in the past 62 years, along with a lot that should not be repeated in its next 62 years. But Israel and Israelis will keep working to build a just, peaceful, and safe society for the next generation of children to grow up in.

When we were talking about Yom Ha'atzmaut in class the next day, Rav Levi offered this perspective: that Yom Ha'atzmaut is a day to take a step back from working on the country's problems. We do that the other 364 days of the year, but Yom Ha'atzmaut is a day for being thankful (which is reflected in the religious celebrations of the holiday, where Hallel, joyful psalms, is added to the liturgy). This reminds me of Shabbat - the other 6 days we work towards the world-as-it-should-be, trying to fix the world's problems, but Shabbat is explicitly the day when we stop doing that and appreciate what we have.

Zichronam Livracha - May their memories be for a blessing

Much to write about. It's been awhile, and a lot has happened. This is a pretty heady time of year in Israel - Pesach is followed very rapidly by Yom Hashoah (remembering the Holocaust), and then a week later, Yom Hazikaron (Memorial Day) and immediately after by Yom Ha'atzmaut (Israeli Independence Day).

I don't have much to say about what Yom Hashoah was like, as I spent most of it home sick with strep throat. I can say, that it is true, I verified it, that there is nothing on TV in Israel on Yom Hashoah except for Holocaust movies.

Yom HaZikaron, Memorial Day for fallen soldiers and victims of terror attacks, started tonight. A siren sounded across the country at 8pm, marking the beginning of the day. In addition to the state ceremony held at the Kotel, neighborhoods and communities all over Jerusalem held their own local ceremonies. Lauren and I, along with her roommate, went to the community ceremony in Baka, the neighborhood where many of my friends live.

We arrived a little late, so we were standing in the back, near the entrance, which was heavily guarded by security and police. Towards the end of the ceremony, a little boy, probably about 3 or 4 years old, started crying - he couldn't find his parents. Watching the police and the security push aside their guns, kneel down, and take care of this little boy who couldn't find his parents, juxtaposed with the ceremony mourning all of the children of Israel who have died - 22,682 since 1860 - was striking and poignant. It reminded me of the Yehuda Amichai poem, which I may have quoted here before, "An Arab Shepherd is Searching for His Goat on Mount Zion."

An Arab shepherd is searching for his goat on Mount Zion
And on the opposite hill I am searching for my little boy.
An Arab shepherd and a Jewish father
Both in their temporary failure.


These two holidays, so close together, with their drastic shift from the mourning of Yom HaZikaron to the celebration of Yom Ha'atzmaut, are very conducive to deep conversations about what Zionism is, what the State of Israel is and could be. Coming where they do in the cycle of my own time here, after I've been living in Jerusalem for a substantial amount of time, and am anticipating another year here, they raise questions of my own relationship to this place. We had a panel at Pardes today called "Keeping the Faith," with 3 Pardes alumni, who all made aliyah, and live very different lives in Israel, with very different outlooks. One speaker talked about how he is not an armchair Zionist, and by living in Israel and serving in the army, he engages in the dirty, practical work of Zionism. I also don't want to be an armchair Zionist, yet my understanding of what my role is in the dirty, practical work of Zionism doesn't equal aliyah and enlisting in the IDF. I'm still figuring out exactly what my role is, what my relationship is to this place.

Right now I'm listening to Galgalatz online (Israeli radio). On Yom HaZikaron, the radio stations all play sad music, transitioning to happier music as Yom Ha'atzmaut starts. Tomorrow, there is another siren in the morning, and in the afternoon, I'm going to the military cemetery, Har Herzl, with Pardes. Tomorrow night, I'm going to an "alternative beacon lighting ceremony, for a just, equitable, and deserving Israel," sponsored by Yesh G'vul. There will be much more to share and reflect on over the next 48 hours.

Zichronam livracha - may their memories, of all those who have died because of this conflict, seeking safe homes and freedom for future generations, on both sides, be for a blessing - and may that blessing be that soon the day will come when a parent's greatest fear is losing their child in a crowd, not sending him or her off to war.