May the knowledge of Your love and ours give added hope to them and to their dear ones. May they find even greater strength because our prayers are linked to theirs. When pain and fatigue are my companions, let there be room in my heart for strength. When days and nights are filled with darkness, let the light of courage find its place. Help me to endure the suffering and dissolve the fear, renew within me the calm spirit of trust and peace. — From a Jewish prayer for Healing
A year or two ago, my daughter made me a t-shirt that said in giant blue letters, “I am a Jewish mother, so….” This was in reference to a joke we (and many) make: I am a Jewish mother so I know. Everything. Period.
I never wear the shirt in public. My daughter brings this up often. She thinks I don’t like the shirt. Only in the last few months did I tell her that it has nothing to do with the shirt.
It’s because I’m scared to wear a shirt that bold about being Jewish in public.
Listen, I live in the most idyllic place, in America’s most liberal state, predominantly surrounded by wealthy, old, white people. And I’m still scared. It doesn’t feel like a safe thing to do.
wrote a really thoughtful piece about attending a vigil for Israel. She reflected upon the security guards and police that are always present at synagogues. Then she said something that I think I knew but I also didn’t really know: "As a practicing Christian, I have never feared for my life. Not for one moment have I worried that the traditions of my religion—the crosses around our necks, the Christmas lights in our windows, the mere bowing of our heads in prayer—will provoke acts of violence against us."This is why I don’t wear the shirt.
As I try to raise a Jewish child in an interfaith marriage, I’ve written a few times about connecting to holidays like Rosh Hashanna and Passover in ways that are meaningful to me. But the truth is, I’ve been uncomfortable with Judaism for most of my life. I didn’t enjoy its massive presence in our lives as a child - hebrew school, synagoguge, Federation, Israel, Israel, Israel all the time.
Now I see what the big deal is.
A lovely and wonderful friend checked in yesterday. She just wanted to make sure I was ok. "I'm sure what's going on in Israel is hitting you differently." She's right.
I am a high empath - I feel and I feel strongly. I’ve thought very much about what Ukrainians who are fighting for their country’s sovereignty might be feeling. I’ve thought about what migrants crossing into our border across rivers split by barbwire might be feeling. And yes, and for many years, I’ve thought about what Palestinians who are awash in poverty and despair might be feeling.
For many of us who were raised in American Jewish homes (and saying American Jewish, versus Jewish American, is a whole discussion right there), Israel is….everything. It is talked about all the time. It’s the Homeland. It’s where Jews rebuilt after the attempt to wipe us out (again). It’s the place where Jewish holidays, not Christian ones, are the national days off. It’s the place where you are surrounded by other Jews. They might not all think the same. They might not all want the same thing. But we share something: we’re Jewish.
My oldest friend, who is Jewish and married to an Israeli, reminded me of something her dad used to say, “If Palestinians put down their weapons, there’d be no war. If Israelis put down their weapons, there’d be no Israel.” That feels more real right now than any other time in my life.
I can’t be in this time for Israel and Jews and not think of my dad. He believed in Israel. Much of his life worked to support Jews and a Jewish state. When he died, my godfather counseled me as I wrote my eulogy that I have to say something about how important Israel was to my dad.
I wish he were here to talk to us about this scary time. To reassure us. To talk to our daughter about it, in this year when she will be a Bat Mitzvah. I keep asking myself…what would he say?
I’ve written seven different responses to that question. They all revolve around one theme: he’d remind us that we are Jews.
Our daughter comes home from a short vacation tonight. We’ve been thinking about how to talk to her about Israel. I’m a Jewish mother - her Jewish mother - so….what will I say?
I’ll tell her that as much as much as we try to see many sides to every issue, nothing can justify this. That it’s scary. That Zaydie would tell us more if he were here. That we can do what he would tell me to do: “look it up.” That I’d love to do that with her, especially because there’s going to be a lot to make sense of. That this is an important time to remember that we are Jews. That we’re going to Shabbat services this weekend. Not because I like going but because we’re Jews.
This is a time for us to be together.
Great post. I'm not Jewish, but as assistant pastor of my church I am teach the congregation that we need to pray for Israel and it's people. God tells us that we should stand with this country and it's people. I believe Israel will be victorious through God!
thank you, Sarah. thank you.