As I stood for the two minute Holocaust memorial siren, my mind flooded with heavy thoughts. As the siren winded down. I slowly lifted myself out of my pain as I reminded myself where I am and that I have thank God, children and grandchildren in our Jewish country.
They say life is a roller coaster. For most nations it is maybe the junior coaster at "Bob's kiddy park" . For us it always the "Cyclone" in Coney Island.
And the thing is..the ride never ends...You would think that there might be other waiting their turn, but no, we get to keep riding over and over again.
This time of year in Israel is indeed a time of compressed emotional storm. Holocaust memorial day:out of the ashes of the worst event in human history. Memorial day:remembering the fallen of the first Jewish national army in two thousand years. Finally. Independence day; pinching ourselves to make sure that we are truly living this miracle of a place.
Tragically, it was on Holocaust memorial eve when, once again, an Arab used his car to run down two Jews in Jerusalem; two special young people who were planning to raise a beautiful Jewish family in Israel.
Recently one sees increasing numbers of concrete barriers at bus and train stops in Jerusalem as Arabs have discovered a new weapon with which to kill Jews.
Who ever dreamed of the Jewish people hiding behind concrete in our renewed beloved land? Is this the best we can do?
Who will be brave enough to say, enough. Is not our right to life dearer than any other "right"..
The very sad part is that this relatively new phenomenon is being accepted much like the earlier form of attempted murder, massive stone throwing. It is treated like bad weather or bad luck. It happens and certainly will happen again.
\We stand for moments of silence, with thoughts of "never again" or, "may their blood be avenged." Who will save the blood yet to be spilled?
These thoughts filled my mind as I sat on the bus today.
Today I saw a young man, rubbing his shoes into the opposite seat.
He chose to make a disparaging, taunting gesture. At this point the fellow travelers were aware of the exchange. Probably because he was an Arab, the folks did not want to "get involved" and dug their noses deeper into their phones or changed their seat.
The Arab scoffed,"is this your bus"?
So, I relented, and the Arab put his dirty shoes on the seat.. and deep into our national face, just twenty four hours after another Arab ran down our holy Shalom Sherki..
It wasn't always this way.. And so, at this time of year I pray that we will tear down the walls and raise up our heads to the One who finally brought us home and stand tall for the many Shaloms, who deserve better.