For These I Cry – The War in Eretz Yisroel

By: Chaya Sora Jungreis-Gertzulin

Can it be? It’s happening again… only worse.

I remember Yom Kippur, fifty years ago. We were in shul, when we heard the devastating news. War in Eretz Yisroel. A surprise attack on Yom Kippur, holiest of days.

All reservists were called up. Chayalei Yisroel, many still in their kittels and tallesim, all with a prayer on their lips. They ran to battle, ready to protect their people, their nation, their land.

That year, our tefillos took on extra meaning, as we begged HaShem to protect Am Yisroel, to guard Eretz Yisroel. Who didn’t tremble that day as we recited the passages of Avinu Malkeinu and Shema Koleinu. That Yom Kippur, there was no “break” during the day. We remained in shul with our Tehillim, davening for our people’s safety.

The Yom Kippur War became a distant memory, a thing of the past. A memory our children don’t have, and our grandchildren are so far removed from. We’ve become complacent with our lives, and comfortable with the Eretz Yisroel of today. Yes, we go to mekomos hakedoshim, holy places, and daven for ourselves and our families. At the same time, we hit the malls, we feel safe in its luxurious hotels, and enjoy its gourmet restaurants. We walk Israel’s streets marveling at all the “progress” that this modern country has made over the past few decades.

This Shemini Atzeres and Simchas Torah we were forced to remember. Once again, a surprise attack on Yom Tov. It is with pain in my heart that I write about an offensive attack, said to be the worst in Israel’s history. An estimated one thousand terrorists infiltrating the country by land, sea and air. They invaded several communities, going from house to house, taking hostages, torturing and even brutally slaughtering innocent men, women and children, all while yelling Allah Akbar.

I can’t get the images out of my mind. Young women pleading for their lives, crying children and infants being tortured, and even the elderly dragged away into captivity. The terrorists were so brazen as to video their heinous acts, posting it in real time on social media to show the entire world the full extent of their murders and brutality.

The Navi Yirmiyahu says in Megillas Eicha, “Al eileh ani bochiyah, For these I cry.” How can we not shed a tear? Families torn apart. Men, women and children tortured and taken hostage. Young lives of soldiers, border police, and others cut short. For these I cry. As David HaMelech writes “Eileh ezkara v’eshpecha alai nafshi, For these I recall and pour out my soul for what has befallen me.” (Tehillim 42:5). We owe it to these holy neshamos to shed a tear for them.

The kidnapped Israelis were paraded through the streets of Gaza, while being jeered and spat upon by Palestinians. I remember my mother a”h telling me of when the Nazis invaded her home town of Szeged. Jewish residents were forced to march through the streets while their Hungarian neighbors laughed and spat upon them. Ima would say that she is so afraid that it’s going to happen again. I was young and naïve and thought that the world changed. That somehow “they” (whomever “they” would be) would never allow this to happen again. How wrong I was.

I am in disbelief as I learn of pro-Palestinian rallies taking place right here, in our own New York City, calling them “All Out For Palestine”. And the so-called “enlightened” students of Harvard demonstrating in support of the Palestinians, completely oblivious to the brutality and inhumaneness exhibited by these so-called “freedom fighters”.

I was with my daughter and son-in-law for Simchas Torah. We davened at the Agudath Israel of Five Towns, led by Rabbi Yitzchok Frankel. Like in so many shuls, the rov spoke of the terrible situation unfolding in Eretz Yisroel. He requested that each hakafah be somewhat shortened, and he led the shul in reciting Tehillim.  The rov spoke from the heart, urging that a proper balance be struck between the obligation to rejoice on Simchas Torah with the reality of the tragic events of the day. Yes, we sang and danced with our Torah, while having in mind our brothers and sisters, acheinu kol beis yisroel, in the Holy Land. Rabbi Frankel reminded us that it was our duty to feel our brothers’ pain.

As Jews, we must be nosei b’ol im chaveiro, to feel another’s pain. Rav Yechezkel Levenstein zt”l the Ponovezher mashgiach said that nosei b’ol means that a person must feel toward another just as if the distresses and pain are exactly his own.

We must do for them. To daven, to give material and financial support. There are amazing volunteers who have already flown to Israel, some to be soldiers, others to offer medical and other assistance to the injured, to the grieving families and to so many who have been traumatized by events of the past few days.

On Simchas Torah we read the final portion of the Chumash, V’Zos Ha’bracha. The story of Moshe’s last day and his final brachos to his beloved people. We read of HaShem showing Moshe all of Eretz Yisroel from atop Har Nevo. “And HaShem showed him the entire land… as far as ‘hayam ha’acharon’, the end of the sea (the Mediterranean Sea).”  (Devarim 34:3) Rashi teaches that “hayam”, the sea, can be read and understood as “hayom” ha’acharon, the last “day”. HaShem showed Moshe the full history of the Jewish nation that would play out through time, to the end of days, to the time of techiyas ha’meisim.

This article was written L’zecher Nishmas/In Memory Of HaRav Meshulem ben HaRav Osher Anshil HaLevi, zt”l and Rebbetzin Esther bas HaRav Avraham HaLevi, zt”l