I have just returned from leading an eight day "Solidarity Mission" to Israel and I feel the urge and the need to shout out loud for all of my Jewish brothers and sisters to hear, "Please Visit Your Homeland." The people of Israel need your warmth, love, support and smiling face - now more than ever before in its history.
I have been to Israel many times before. I have seen the land through the eyes of a tourist, visitor and leader of a Bible Study Group Journey to the Holy Land. Every trip to Israel is meaningful and inspirational. However, my dear friends, this particular trip was significantly different. Our solidarity mission was just that - a mission. It was a mission to tell the people of Israel that our thoughts are with them every day and night; a mission to comfort the bereaved and share in their pain; a mission to visit with those wounded, physically and emotionally, by the horrors of two years of terrorism; a mission to thank the young soldiers of Tzahal (Israel Defense Force) for their heroic bravery; a mission to salute the doctors, nurses, rescue workers and hospital staffs who have witnessed the most heinous attacks known to man; a mission to visit merchants, cafes, restaurants, artists, shopkeepers, falafel stands, and tourist attractions, to help them economically in this difficult time; a mission to demonstrate that we, American Jewry, have not abandoned our brothers and sisters in their time of need. It was a mission of solidarity.
We left on December 23rd as ambassadors from the United States Jewish community to the people of Israel. We returned on January 1st as ambassadors of the people of Israel to the Jewish communities across America and throughout the world. Dear friends, Israel needs you. Yes, they need your contributions. Yes, they need your aid in public relations. Yes, they need your letters to the editor. Yes, they need your phone calls and e-mails to your politicians. But more than anything else right now, they need you - in person. They need you to simply get on an airplane and visit them. There can be no greater support for our homeland than this act of support and solidarity.
Our lives were affected in the deepest of ways during our eight day mission. We experienced emotions of pain and anguish, joy and celebration, pride and confidence, love and warmth - and perhaps most of all, determination and resoluteness that Am Yisroel Chai!
We visited dozens of families that lost loved ones. Although we had never met before, we mourned as if it was our very own family. The tears of a parent crying over the loss of a child ripped through our hearts and souls. The discussion was not about politics or policies, rather about love and family. We will never forget their faces and the faces of the photos of their loved ones. If for this alone, I beg you to visit.
We will never forget Leah Zinu talking about her 22 year old daughter, Dikla, o.b.m., murdered on Nov. 21, 2002, on Bus #20, in Kiryat Menachem. She showed us her daughter's bedroom, left exactly the way it was the morning her daughter left the house. Each day since the attack, her younger sister writes Dikla a letter and places it with a flower on her sister's desk. We will never forget Rina Chamamy who met us in the Netanya Park Hotel, scene of the horrific Passover Massacre of March 27, 2002. Rina lost her husband Ami in that attack and now raises six children alone.
I could go on and on, but it would be best if you visited for yourself. The victims are no longer just names of strangers or statistic numbers that flash across our television screens on the nightly news programs. They are real. Real people. Children, fathers, mothers, zaides and bubbies, who left behind orphans, widows and torn lives. They had lives that touched thousands. Now we are a part of their lives. We befriended these families, embraced, cried and promised that their loved ones will never be forgotten. We raised thousands of dollars to distribute directly to these families and we will continue to support them in any way we can. After all, it is our mishpacha. If for this alone, I beg you to visit.
Wherever we went in Israel we were greeted with a very similar comment: "Thank you so much for coming." It was as if our mere presence was helping to heal a deep wound. From the President of Israel, Moshe Katzav, who welcomed us to the Bait Hanasi, to the woman at a falafel stand who had not seen a tourist bus in two years, to the souvenir shops and cafes throughout the land - "Welcome home," they all said. If for this alone, I beg you to visit.
Prior to our departure we organized a letter writing campaign from children throughout Southern California. We brought with us thousands of letters addressed to children in Israel and to the soldiers. We distributed these letters to School children in every city and town we visited. We were so taken by the smiles and tears a letter from a child could bring to a soldier. They treasured these letters and promised to write back. If for this alone, I beg you to visit.
We had the opportunity to visit an active military base on the Lebanese border. Our tour was given by an army major named Yaron. He served as a platoon commander in the Yom Kippur War. After speaking, praying and dancing with the soldiers, our guide began to wish us farewell and could not finish his words as he broke down crying. Here was a 50 year old major who commanded tanks on the battlefield and yet broke down in tears with us. "Our young men and women who serve in the army need so much to hear words of support and solidarity from American Jewry. Too few are coming. Thank you for being here," he said. If for this alone, I beg you to visit.
We saw an Israel today that is far more united than ever before. There will always be political debating and posturing, but the feeling of "family" we felt wherever we went was overwhelming. It made no difference if you were from the right or left, religious or secular, American or Israeli. You were family. Loved and embraced. Welcomed and appreciated.
And so, my Jewish brothers and sisters, it is time for all to stand up and be counted. The last two years has been a difficult time for our family in Israel. They should not have to stand alone. Their struggle is our struggle. Their land is our land. Their dreams are our dreams. Their future is our future. Their courage must become our courage. We must be there for them - not from a distance, but up close, in person, and now!
I wish you all a nesia tova - go in peace, visit in peace, return in peace.
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Rabbi Moshe D. Bryski of Chabad of the Conejo, writes from Agoura Hills, California.
I have been to Israel many times before. I have seen the land through the eyes of a tourist, visitor and leader of a Bible Study Group Journey to the Holy Land. Every trip to Israel is meaningful and inspirational. However, my dear friends, this particular trip was significantly different. Our solidarity mission was just that - a mission. It was a mission to tell the people of Israel that our thoughts are with them every day and night; a mission to comfort the bereaved and share in their pain; a mission to visit with those wounded, physically and emotionally, by the horrors of two years of terrorism; a mission to thank the young soldiers of Tzahal (Israel Defense Force) for their heroic bravery; a mission to salute the doctors, nurses, rescue workers and hospital staffs who have witnessed the most heinous attacks known to man; a mission to visit merchants, cafes, restaurants, artists, shopkeepers, falafel stands, and tourist attractions, to help them economically in this difficult time; a mission to demonstrate that we, American Jewry, have not abandoned our brothers and sisters in their time of need. It was a mission of solidarity.
We left on December 23rd as ambassadors from the United States Jewish community to the people of Israel. We returned on January 1st as ambassadors of the people of Israel to the Jewish communities across America and throughout the world. Dear friends, Israel needs you. Yes, they need your contributions. Yes, they need your aid in public relations. Yes, they need your letters to the editor. Yes, they need your phone calls and e-mails to your politicians. But more than anything else right now, they need you - in person. They need you to simply get on an airplane and visit them. There can be no greater support for our homeland than this act of support and solidarity.
Our lives were affected in the deepest of ways during our eight day mission. We experienced emotions of pain and anguish, joy and celebration, pride and confidence, love and warmth - and perhaps most of all, determination and resoluteness that Am Yisroel Chai!
We visited dozens of families that lost loved ones. Although we had never met before, we mourned as if it was our very own family. The tears of a parent crying over the loss of a child ripped through our hearts and souls. The discussion was not about politics or policies, rather about love and family. We will never forget their faces and the faces of the photos of their loved ones. If for this alone, I beg you to visit.
We will never forget Leah Zinu talking about her 22 year old daughter, Dikla, o.b.m., murdered on Nov. 21, 2002, on Bus #20, in Kiryat Menachem. She showed us her daughter's bedroom, left exactly the way it was the morning her daughter left the house. Each day since the attack, her younger sister writes Dikla a letter and places it with a flower on her sister's desk. We will never forget Rina Chamamy who met us in the Netanya Park Hotel, scene of the horrific Passover Massacre of March 27, 2002. Rina lost her husband Ami in that attack and now raises six children alone.
I could go on and on, but it would be best if you visited for yourself. The victims are no longer just names of strangers or statistic numbers that flash across our television screens on the nightly news programs. They are real. Real people. Children, fathers, mothers, zaides and bubbies, who left behind orphans, widows and torn lives. They had lives that touched thousands. Now we are a part of their lives. We befriended these families, embraced, cried and promised that their loved ones will never be forgotten. We raised thousands of dollars to distribute directly to these families and we will continue to support them in any way we can. After all, it is our mishpacha. If for this alone, I beg you to visit.
Wherever we went in Israel we were greeted with a very similar comment: "Thank you so much for coming." It was as if our mere presence was helping to heal a deep wound. From the President of Israel, Moshe Katzav, who welcomed us to the Bait Hanasi, to the woman at a falafel stand who had not seen a tourist bus in two years, to the souvenir shops and cafes throughout the land - "Welcome home," they all said. If for this alone, I beg you to visit.
Prior to our departure we organized a letter writing campaign from children throughout Southern California. We brought with us thousands of letters addressed to children in Israel and to the soldiers. We distributed these letters to School children in every city and town we visited. We were so taken by the smiles and tears a letter from a child could bring to a soldier. They treasured these letters and promised to write back. If for this alone, I beg you to visit.
We had the opportunity to visit an active military base on the Lebanese border. Our tour was given by an army major named Yaron. He served as a platoon commander in the Yom Kippur War. After speaking, praying and dancing with the soldiers, our guide began to wish us farewell and could not finish his words as he broke down crying. Here was a 50 year old major who commanded tanks on the battlefield and yet broke down in tears with us. "Our young men and women who serve in the army need so much to hear words of support and solidarity from American Jewry. Too few are coming. Thank you for being here," he said. If for this alone, I beg you to visit.
We saw an Israel today that is far more united than ever before. There will always be political debating and posturing, but the feeling of "family" we felt wherever we went was overwhelming. It made no difference if you were from the right or left, religious or secular, American or Israeli. You were family. Loved and embraced. Welcomed and appreciated.
And so, my Jewish brothers and sisters, it is time for all to stand up and be counted. The last two years has been a difficult time for our family in Israel. They should not have to stand alone. Their struggle is our struggle. Their land is our land. Their dreams are our dreams. Their future is our future. Their courage must become our courage. We must be there for them - not from a distance, but up close, in person, and now!
I wish you all a nesia tova - go in peace, visit in peace, return in peace.
--------------------------------------------------------
Rabbi Moshe D. Bryski of Chabad of the Conejo, writes from Agoura Hills, California.