I had lots of thoughts to write about this week. After all, it's the first
day of Adar II - the month of joy, the month of Purim, of celebration and
redemption.
There's so much to talk about and analyze - Why we should be happy, what
true joy means, how we celebrate.
But then came news of the attack in Jerusalem earlier tonight. Details may
be sketchy still, but this we know. Eight teenagers were murdered. Barely
teenagers, children aged 15 and 16. Murdered, shot to death at close range
in cold blood.
They must have been in a gang, right? They must have somehow been involved
in a violent lifestyle. They must have been the oppressors of poor
indigenous peoples.
These were children in a Yeshiva. A Yeshiva I know. A Yeshiva that some of
our alumni, USC graduates, have studied in.
And these children were studying in the library, by one report. Or sitting
in the dining hall, engaged in celebration of the new month of Adar.
And someone hated them enough, someone hated us enough, to walk in to that
room. To pull out a rifle and a hand gun. To spray the room with bullets.
And then to walk over to where individuals dove for cover, and one by one
shoot people in the head.
He didn't hate them. They had never done anything to him personally. They
were engaged in the most innocent and holy of activities. But he hated what
they represented. He hated me and you. And he tried to kill me and you. And
in doing so, he succeeded in killing eight of our little brothers.
I know I may be sounding morbid. I can't help it. The more you think about
something like this, the more emotions overtake you. The less rational you
are able to be.
And as always, we search for guidance. How to react? Do we cancel the
celebrations of Adar and Purim, choosing to express ourselves through
mourning and grief/ Do we cry out for vengeance? Do we just give up in
despair?
I'm not going to look up the exact details of the incident I am about to
share with you. Because I am not in a speechwriting mood tonight. Because
the point I'd like to share is the concept, not the specifics.
In the fledgling town of Kefar Chabad, a little bit over 50 years ago, there
was a school founded for poor children of immigrants. One day, in the midst
of the daily prayers, terrorists assaulted the defenseless school, and
brutally killed five of the students praying - along with their teacher who
attempted to shield them with his own body, his own life.
The entire country was in shock. But the residents of the town, people who
had just recently fled the horrors of Nazi and Stalinist persecution, were
completely paralyzed. How could this happen here, in the Holy Land, in the
Jewish homeland?
As Chassidim, they turned to the Lubavitcher Rebbe for guidance. Several
days of silence ensued. And then the Rebbe responded with a telegram,
containing but three simple words. "Behemshech Habinyan Tinacheimu." By your
continued building you will be consoled.
Now I did look it up. And you can read the article from Yediot Acharonot -
an Israeli daily - here http://www.chabadnews.us/gallery/Page_0006/0006.htm
Judaism believe in tears. We believe in crying and expressing our grief,
when tragedy strikes home. And how can it not strike home tonight?
But we do not believe in paralysis. We do not believe in despair. We believe
that grief is assuaged - and actualized and given meaning - by continued
growth. By commemoration. By building.
So should we cancel our celebration of Adar and Purim? No. On the contrary!
We celebrate life. We celebrate the lives of the children who were lost. We
grieve for them, and yet we celebrate. Hazorim b'dimah .. we sow in tears
and reap in joy. We celebrate with tears, and cry with the joy that we will
find meaning. We will make the lives of those students meaningful. We will
continue to tap in to the very faith, the very celebration, the very joy
that the enemy attempts to extinguish.
And we will show that it cannot be extinguished. Because it is eternal and
infinite.
Judaism teaches that meaning is found in the combined actions of the many
individuals. I encourage you to make a difference. Don't just read the news
reports and feel a moment of anger, or sadness, or grief, or despair.
Translate that emotion into action - into continued building. Do a Mitzvah
in memory of the deceased, in the merit of the wounded. Change your life in
some small but meaningful way. And that change, that action, will bring the
only possible consolation - the consolation of overcoming negativity,
terror, and destruction. The consolation of continued building, of making
the world a better place.
May we speedily merit the time when we see the fulfillment of the prophecy
"and G-d will wipe away the tears from upon every face," the time of true
consolation and celebration when "the spirit of evil will be banished from
the land" and we shall celebrate a truly changed and better world - with the
coming of Moshiach now!
