Israel's Memorial Day, 2019

Today, May 8, 2019, is Israel's national Memorial Day. It is the day each year we remember those--both soldier and civilian--who have been killed because they live in or come from the nation-state called Israel. It's a day of solemnity, a day of memories.

At 8 pm last night and again this  morning 11 am, sirens all over Israel sounded. Everywhere in Israel, Jews stopped what they were doing. They stood in silence during those moments of the siren's wail to honor the memory of those who gave their lives because they were 'Israelis'.

For many, it's a heavy silence. Yes, some in Israel may not fully realize the solemnity of this day. They may not understand how many Israeli families know someone who has been killed by an enemy who takes a real delight in killing us. 

Too many families here in Israel know about this delight. They suffer loss--or know another family that suffers--because of it. 

Is it fair to say our enemies take a delight in killing us? Well, we know our enemies take delight in killing us because we see the images of that delight. We often see them giving out candies to each other in celebration over a Jew's murder. What are we to think when we see that?

Did you hear? One of our kids killed a Jew this morning! Have a candy!!

I've only been in Israel a few years. But even I--and my family--feel a sense of loss on Memorial Day. While we haven't been here long, we nonetheless have a young friend--an IDF soldier--who has been buried in Israel's National Cemetery, Har Herzl, for almost 5 years now. 2019 would have been his 26th birthday. He is and will remain 21 forever.

We remember the shock of his death. We will never forget him. 

Two days ago, before a ceasefire for the recent flair-up with Hamas was announced, I saw a very young-looking IDF soldier, in uniform, davening (praying) with us at our 6 am morning service. At that moment, the IDF and Hamas were at war. 

I didn't recognize this soldier, with his weapon and his tefillin. I don't recall having seen him before. It didn't matter. I feared for his safety. 

As he left the synagogue, I hoped he'd be safe.

My granddaughter is in the IDF. She, too, wears that same uniform. Though her work doesn't by definition expose her to danger, I thought of her that day. I think of her now. I want her to be safe. 

This national Day of Remembrance is a time of solemnity. It's a day we remember the true existential threat we face. It's a time we understand how fragile life can be, especially for those who wear the uniform of our IDF.

On Memorial Day, we remember those who have fallen. We remember those who have been murdered by an implacable foe. 

We know what that remembrance means to us. It means that the cost of our Jewish Freedom in this land and our Jewish sovereignty on this, our G-d's, land haven't come cheaply. It means we pay for our Freedom and for this sovereignty with our blood. 

We remember.