This coming week we commemorate Yom haZikaron (Memorial Day, Sunday night and Monday) and celebrate Yom Ha’atzmaut (Independence Day) on the next day. In a normal year, it’s an emotionally intense pairing. Most communities in Israel have a ceremony called a tekes ma’avar, a ceremony of transition, that straddles the two holidays. The first part honors the fallen soldiers and those killed by terrorists, and as night falls and one day transitions to the next, the program seamlessly flows into joyous celebration for the state of Israel.
I first saw this type of ceremony during my senior year of high school when I was in Israel participating in The March of the Living. Having just spent a week in Poland, we spent that evening in a small community center and witnessed a community memorializing their soldiers. I was shocked - it almost felt like whiplash - to see them then break out into song and total joy as they honored the miracle of the state of Israel. The backdrop for me, of course, was the horrors of the Shoah, which I had seen with my own eyes only days prior.
How do we hold it all? How do we engage with the loss and the fear, alongside the miracle of having a state? This year, these questions feel even more pronounced. Should our Yom Ha’Atzmaut celebrations be more subdued because we are at war? There were times, I’m sure, during the first and second intifada that these holidays felt complicated. But this is the first time that Israelis, in the midst of a full blown war, are attempting to celebrate. So what does it mean to celebrate amidst terrible, agonizing pain? What does it mean to feel blessed and grateful, while we are simultaneously so keenly aware of our collective losses?
In the last few weeks, I have reflected many times on a speech given by Rabbi David Wolpe at a recent BBYO convention. Rabbi Wolpe described an imaginary conversation with his great-great-great-grandfather. Wolpe says to him, “it’s terrible what I’m seeing at Harvard!” and the great-great-grandfather responds, “Jews are at Harvard?!” Wolpe then says to him, “yes, but there’s a lot of anti-Israel sentiment there,” and he responds, “there’s an Israel?!” Wolpe responds back to him, “yes, but you should hear the administration is talking about shaving some of the billions of dollars of aid that it gives them.” Of course, great-great-grandfather responds to him, “and America gives it billions of dollars of aid?!” Wolpe’s conversation is a reminder that perspective is important in thinking about our blessings, even amidst incredible challenges. For me, that’s what this year’s Yom Ha’Atzmaut is about.
Yom Ha’Atzmaut is a moment - a moment - to reflect on the blessings of being in this moment. It doesn't mean that there aren’t other moments - plenty of them! - to count the mounting devastations, to mourn the losses, to be anxious about our future, to be upset about policies or governments. So yes, the celebrations will undoubtedly feel different this year. It is impossible to ignore the losses. It is impossible to ignore the hostages that are still held captive for over 215 days. We cannot fully celebrate because they cannot.
And, we celebrate how far we’ve come. We celebrate the potential of who Israel can be. We celebrate the miracle of a group of Jews, downtrodden people, that scraped together enough fortitude and perseverance to become something more. We celebrate to commit ourselves to the work of making Israel the best she can be. We celebrate a dream that our people have had for thousands of years that has begun to come to fruition. Surely, it is an imperfect dream. It is a yet-to-be completed dream. We celebrate to continue dreaming together.
