Israel Part 6: Shabbat in Modi'in

The truth is I don't have a great deal to share about Shabbat in Modi'in. It was a jet lag processing day. It was also a somewhat familiar feeling day, which is noteworthy on its own.

What made it so familiar was that I've actually been to this shul before. It's a small community that holds services in a gym of a school. The service is Partnership style (although I don't know if that's what they call it themselves.) As such, I was offered an aliyah. This time I had the courage to say, (in Hebrew) "Yes Please. I don't speak Hebrew" (in English) "but I'll see you at Chamishi!" You can tell this was a bit more familiar because I only teared up a little bit while saying the bracha rather than being as swept away as last time in 2015. 

Shul is a lot earlier here than at home so I had time for a short nap before lunch, long lunch, and then I went to visit Bat-Ami and Mike. 

We were supposed to have had sheva brachot today -- a special meal held within a week after a wedding -- for their son, Gavi. Sadly, Bat-Ami and Mike developed covid right after the wedding and the sheva brachot were cancelled. We sat, distanced, outside on the deck (which had a shockingly beautiful view) and spoke for two hours about many things, but mostly -- as with everyone -- about the war.

I remembered suddenly last night that when Mike and I were first becoming friends we took a class together on Islamic Mystical Poetry. It was a wonderful class (one of few I actually remember) and I often looked to him to see how he was processing both the literature and cultural aspects of what we studied together. All three of us -- Bat-Ami included -- were also in the midst of developing a friendship with our friend, Aisha -- yet another incredibly smart person, a debate expert a music connoisseur, and the first Muslim I'd ever met in my life. That friendship was a powerful one and the starting place that eventually paved the way towards my interest in Muslim-Jewish alliances. 

So when I spoke with Bat-Ami and Mike, I wondered if they'd have anything to say that was vastly different from anyone else when talking about the war in Gaza, particularly compared to those in my NJ community. These are very aware people, very careful how they speak, very conscious of the effects of the war on every civilian of every background. But the messaging was 100% the same. I'm reluctant to speak for the, so I'll say on my own.

We have to fight this war. Even a moment of cease-fire puts us at risk. We cannot negotiate with Hamas to get our hostages back in any other way. 

And the rest of the world does not understand this. 

It was hard to say goodbye to my friends, so I actually hope to see them again this afternoon -- today (Wednesday), my last night in Israel.