“Protective Edge:”  Rabbi Shlomo Riskin Reflects upon a Unique Nation

The Sages of the Talmud teach that the Holy One, Blessed be He, dons t’filin (phylacteries) every day (as it were); they suggest that in the boxes (“houses”) of God’s t’filin are verses paralleling the boxes (“houses”) worn by the Israelites, the first verse in God’s t’filin being “who is like unto Your nation Israel, a most unique nation on earth.” 

Let me share with you four vignettes from this war in Gaza which confirm the Divine assessment of the uniqueness of our people.

1.  One of the sacred korbanot (sacrifices) of this war was Yuval Heiman, an Efrat-born, seventh-generation Israeli whose great-grandfather – along with three other members of the Heiman family – had fallen in the War of Independence.  Yuval was circumcised and “Bar Mitzvahed” in Efrat and  graduated from Ohr Torah Stone’s Derech Avot high school. He was awarded many trophies, certificates and medals for excellence in sports and volunteerism, and served as a counselor in Bnei Akiva. In the middle of officers training course at Bahad 1 he was hand-picked to serve as the radioman to his Battalion Commander (Mag”ad) in Operation Protective Edge.  Yuval was slated for a shining future.

When I entered the shiva home, Yuval’s grandfather, Yehuda – a silversmith and regular attendee of my Daf Yomi class – ran to the door to greet me with a warm embrace.  We both wept silently, then Yehuda caught himself.  “In this shiva house we do not weep; of course, we are overcome with grief but the dominant feeling in our hearts is pride and zekhut, the privilege of being able – in our generation – to sacrifice for Jewish future.”

Moshe and Zohara, Yuval’s parents, both explained that of course they cry – but at night, into the pillow, privately and not for others to see.  The profound message they convey is the merit of living in the generation of rebirth, of their ability – which the past generation of the Shoah could not do – to take Jewish destiny into their own hands and pave the way, albeit with heart-breaking commitment and sacrifice, for Jewish future and redemption.  In effect, they were repeating the words of the brother of Great Grandfather Heiman, who said – upon establishing Kibbutz Nehalim after losing the four members of the Heiman clan in the War of Independence – “the place, (“HaMakom“) – our home in Israel reborn – comforts me among the mourners of Zion and Jerusalem…

2.  I went to Tel HaShomer hospital to visit El-Yosef Malkieli, a commanding officer who suffered a near-fatal wound in his leg.  He and two of his young soldiers were standing by their personnel carrier (nagmash) when a hand-grenade was thrown in their direction.  El-Yosef instinctively reached out to catch the grenade, to absorb its impact and deflect its potential harm to his troops.  He was struck on his leg; he and his two soldiers were wounded and knocked unconscious.

When the soldiers were revived, their first words were, “How is Malkieli?  Please God, he’s alive!”  And when El-Yosef opened his eyes, his first question was, “How are my boys?  Where are they?”  An army in which the first thoughts of the commanding officer  is for the welfare of his soldiers, and the first thoughts of the soldiers is for the welfare of their commanding officer is bound to be successful…

3.  I had been spending a period of time teaching and lecturing in New York when I went home to Israel for some twelve hours to pay the condolence call and visit the hospital which I just described.  When I arrived at Ben-Gurion Airport, it was eerily empty of its usual crowds; the Federal Aviation Administration had cancelled all American flights to Israel; only El Al was flying into Israel as usual.  Suddenly, I heard guitar music and immediately joined some 35 people in spirited circle (or rather two circles, each one single-sex) of dancing.  In the midst of the rockets and missiles, the sirens and scatterings for shelter, these American Jews were coming on aliyah.

They asked me to say something, to give them a blessing; I told them how proud I was of them, how their very presence had been a blessing for me.  One of them said that they all took heart from something they had read in one of my early columns: “If Israel were merely a Disneyland, then you would only come for the sun when there is peace; but if Israel is the Motherland, then you must be there especially when she needs you.”  The spokesperson added, “For us, Israel is also the homeland.   And you must protect your homeland whenever necessary; you certainly don’t stay away…”

4. The day before I came home to make my visits, my daughter Elana was in a Petah Tikvah Judaica gift shop purchasing a challah board.  A mother and her young son were inquiring about large, knitted, black Bratslav kippot which cover one’s entire head.  She explained to the store owner that her son was one of four observant boys in his Gaza army unit, and the usual small-style knitted kippot jostled under the large army helmets and made wearing them uncomfortable. The owner searched around a bit, and brought out four large black kippot.

“I need 40,” smiled the mother.  “But you said there were four observant soldiers in the unit, so why would you want 40 kippot?,” inquired the logical storekeeper.

The mother explained that when the other members of her son’s unit heard him requesting the large kippot, they inquired about the reason for wearing a kippah in the first place. Her son explained that there is a verse in Psalms which avers that the Divine Presence is above each individual; this Divine Protection is symbolized by the kippah.  All the soldiers proceeded to request large kippot for under their helmets, relating that they too wanted continued Divine Protection, especially in Gaza.  The store-keeper managed to find 40 large kippot, for which he refused to take any money…

“Who is like unto Your nation, a most unique nation on earth.”