It was a peaceful night in Jerusalem. There was a cool, comfortable breeze blowing through the air and the nearly full moon shown brightly through the cloudless sky. At about 10:45pm, my wife, Annie, and I sat down to watch a movie in our cozy residence within the German Colony at Merkaz Hamagshimim. It is ironic that not long after we started watching the movie, Annie began talking to me about the significance of this time of year - the month of Elul - and of the need for introspection and soul-searching.



At 11:15pm we continued watching the movie, and then, five minutes later, ?it? happened. A tremendous explosion rang in our ears and shook our room, followed by a deafening silence. At that moment, Annie and I, and undoubtedly everyone else who heard the explosion, hoped for the best. Perhaps it was just a car backfiring, or some other rational explanation for an explosion in the middle of the night. One minute went by, and then another, the silence remaining unbroken. The tension was palpable, as we were frozen in place and in time, collectively holding our breath, listening to the silence and hoping that it would remain unbroken for just another few minutes.



It was not meant to be. In the distance, the shrill cry of sirens was heard. At first it was just one, and then another and another, until the wailing of sirens and cries filled the once peaceful Jerusalem night.



Upon hearing that a pigua (terror attack) has occurred, instinctively one tries to contact all of one?s loved ones and assuage his sense of anxiety and fear. Yet, in this very innocent act, one opens up a Pandora?s Box of immense emotional proportions. If one is fortunate, as Annie and I were last night, one will find that all of his loved ones are safe. Naturally, one would expect to feel a sense of relief over such news, but in Israel, that sense of relief is a fleeting one. Almost instantaneously, relief turns to grief. Yes, ?my? loved ones may be okay, but as the sirens continue to wail, so many - too many - of my Jewish brothers and sisters are not okay. It is this emotional struggle that one is faced with all too often in Israel.



Earlier in the day, I met with a number of North American college graduates spending the year in Israel on a program called OTZMA, who were attending a one day Aliyah seminar at Merkaz Hamagshimim. I was asked the ever popular question that new olim (immigrants) are faced with, ?Why did you decide to make Aliyah?? It is not the first time I have been asked this question, and there are many answers that I give to such questions, but the answer I gave to the group, reflecting back, seemed rather appropriate given the events of the day that were yet to unfold (at which point neither of the two terror attacks had occurred).



Israel is the heart and soul of the Jewish People. It is not only where the future of the Jewish People is, but where the very day to day life in Israel is tinged with a significance that touches every Jew in the world. The triumphs that are achieved in Israel are the triumphs of the entire Jewish People, and allow the Jew in New York, London and Sydney to hold his head a bit higher and walk with an added bounce in his step. Concurrently, the tragedies that occur in Israel are felt by the entire Jewish People.

There are certainly numerous challenges that go along with life in Israel, but what is seemingly lost or forgotten is that for the first time in nearly 2,000 years we are privileged to have Jewish ?challenges? in place of Jewish ?problems?. One must rely on the goodwill of others to help him solve his problems; whereas, one musters up the strength and wherewithal from within to overcome a challenge.



Prior to the establishment of the State of Israel, anytime a Jewish community in the Diaspora was facing a particular problem, they had to seek the good graces of the local ruler, who more often than not, was no friend of the Jewish People. The fate of any particular Jewish community or individual was not in their own hands, but at the mercy and whim of their non-Jewish sovereigns. Time and again, we became all too familiar with how they chose to solve Jewish problems.



Today, with the return of the Jewish People to their eternal Homeland and the establishment of the State of Israel, there exists a new reality. The ?Jewish? challenges that we face here in Israel should be looked upon with a tremendous sense of Jewish pride and not with disdain or despair. Yes, it?s true that the security situation isn?t great here in Israel, but thankfully we have the IDF (Israel Defense Force) - the first Jewish army in 2,000 years - to defend the Jewish People, both in Israel and abroad. True, the economic situation could be better, and one may not agree with a particular government policy, but we now have the tools to do something about it. There is now a Jewish government representing the collective needs and aspirations of the Jewish People in the Land of Israel, and that is something to be proud of.



The Talmud says that one who mourns over Jerusalem during her sadness will merit rejoicing with Jerusalem when she is returned to her former glory. Today, I mourn, along with the entire Jewish People, over our lost (and wounded) Jewish brothers and sisters, as well as over Jerusalem.



Tomorrow, I, along with my Jewish brothers and sisters here in Israel, will awake to once again face our Jewish challenges, and I, for one, will hold my head high while doing so.