Elder Of Ziyon - Israel News: Forest Rain

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Thursday, February 07, 2019

Israel funeral epiphany (Forest Rain)

I recently attended a very pretty funeral and was surprised to discover that it felt wrong to me. Living in Israel has changed my perspective on so many things, it turns out that I have developed a new way of seeing funerals too.

A mother of a neighbor died. She had a long good life although her youth was marred by the horrors of the Holocaust that never really left her. Her son arranged her burial in the cemetery where his father had chosen to be buried, a private cemetery where he could have a non-religious funeral.

The Holocaust caused his father to develop a problem with religion.

The funeral was in a private cemetery in a kibbutz near Haifa. The location is beautiful. The graves are spaced out, each with its own unique style.

Unlike the municipal cemeteries run by the Hevra Kadishah who also conduct the funeral ceremony according to Jewish tradition, in the private cemetary you can have any kind of ceremony you want. Some of the people who choose this route are not Jews. Some are Jews who for whatever reason developed a distaste for the religious. Others simply like the freedom of choice and the prettier location.

In general Israelis are horrible at ceremonies. Pageantry takes timing, care of details and “prettifying” reality – Israelis don’t do that.

The first Israeli funeral I went to shocked me to the core. I was in 10th grade and the brother of a girl in my class died in a training accident in the army. The first thing that struck me was the ambulance waiting outside the cemetery in case, in their anguish, any of the relatives collapsed and needed medical care. Then came the gut-wrenching howls from some of the women of the family. Then the father saying Kaddish for his son, crying and asking God why the natural order of the world had been flipped on its head, why he had to say Kaddish for his boy when it was the boy who eventually should have said kaddish for him.

Raw, gut-wrenching pain I will never forget.

I have been to many different funerals since. Too many. The way the families react is different. When and how much they choose to speak is different. The funeral ceremony itself is very spartan. The area where family and friends gather before the funeral is usually an empty, unadorned space, designed to fit large crowds. The body is brought out, wrapped in a shroud. There is no coffin (unless it’s a military funeral).

The body wrapped for burial usually looks much smaller than the person seemed in life.
It is considered a mitzvah to escort the dead to their final resting place. It’s considered a mitzvah to take part in the actual activity of burying the dead. While most of the ceremony consists of prayers for the deceased, at the end of the ceremony a direct request is made from the soul of deceased, asking for forgiveness if any offense was caused, with an explanation that if something was done that disturbed the body, it was done out of respect and in accordance with the traditional methods of preparing the deceased for their final journey. Before leaving attendees place a stone on the grave, symbolizing the permanence of memory.

It’s a utilitarian ceremony with no real thought given to beauty or comfort.

Municipal cemeteries tend to be overcrowded and unattractive, even when they are in beautiful locations (as is Haifa’s cemetery). There is none of the charm of an old cemetery you might find in the USA or Europe. This private cemetery was different. It was tranquil and pleasant.

And it felt wrong.

The place created for families to speak before the ceremony was lovely. It had a podium and pews to sit in. The deceased was brought out in a coffin, covered in a cloth that made it look more like a table than a body prepared for burial.

(The family did choose to have a Rabbi conduct the service so that part was like in standard funerals.)

My internal conflict surprised me. On one hand my natural desire for beauty and peacefulness was answered. The environment provided everything I had previously felt lacking in other funerals I attended. On the other hand, it felt wrong to me.

Israeli funerals aren’t prettified because death isn’t pretty. Other people might have customs designed to make it easier for the bereaved, to distance the living from death - such as not having anything to do with the physical act of burying the deceased or even leaving before the coffin is placed in the ground. Our funerals aren’t designed to disguise the ugliness of grief. The bereaved often have intense emotions clawing at their guts and the funeral is the place to let it out – and however it comes out, it’s ok.

It surprised me how much the coffin disturbed me. It seemed fake, artificial, an unnecessary, unwanted barrier between the deceased and the land that is a living player in the eternal love story of the Nation of Israel. Does that seem strange? It must…

Living in this land has changed me. I will always love the beautiful but I have learned to understand the beauty of truth and truth is often unpleasant, messy and even harsh.

We have lots of ideas, but we need more resources to be even more effective. Please donate today to help get the message out and to help defend Israel.

Jamal Khashoggi: murder and media coverage (Forest Rain)

Jamal Khashoggi became hot topic in the media when he disappeared on October 2 after visiting the Saudi consulate in Istanbul. After days of incessant media coverage, the story suddenly dropped out of the news cycle. Recently it has made a tentative reappearance but the question is – why?

Most of us had never heard of Jamal Khashoggi until the media began discussing his disappearance. We learned that he entered the Saudi consulate in Istanbul but did not leave it. Later it seemed that he was removed, in pieces, in the luggage of the Saudi hit team who came to get rid of him.

Western media seems to view this story as a Hollywood thriller - and that’s where the focus on facts ended and narrative began.

The most popular narrative reads like a movie synopsis:
“The revolutionary, brave journalist went to the embassy to get documentation that would enable him to live happily ever after with the woman of his dreams, only to disappear, setting off an investigation that reveals international involvement with the evil regime that led to his brutal murder. The corruption goes to the highest levels of government, including the US government.”

The players:

· Jamal Khashoggi - ex-pat Saudi, sometime journalist

· Mohammad Bin Salman, Crown Prince of Saudi Arabia and his hit team

· Recep Tayyip Erdoğan, President of Turkey, the location of the murder

· The media

There are also “silent players” those who are not “on stage.” They are the audience this story is designed to influence. Can you guess who they are?

The good guy:

Every Hollywood thriller has a good guy. The narrative presented by the media says that Jamal Khashoggi was the good guy - but is that true?

Even without knowing all the details, asking the most basic questions cause the narrative to begin to unravel.

Western values uphold freedom of the press so we assume the abused journalist must be the “good guy” but did the media make the same fuss for Daniel Pearl (kidnapped and murdered for being Jewish) or James Foley (kidnapped and murdered by ISIS for being American)?
Has the media focused similar amount of time on the Yazidi genocide (by ISIS)? The oppression in Iran? The slave trade in Libya?
No? Why?

Much has already been written about Khashoggi and who he really was. Anyone interested can easily find online the information about his connections to Osama Bin Laden, his membership and vocal advocacy of the Muslim Brotherhood (a terrorist organization that gave birth to Hamas and eventually Al Qaeda).

Personally, as someone who enjoys her western freedoms and also happens to be Jewish, I cannot categorize a member of the Muslim Brotherhood, openly and loudly advocating for Sharia and the Caliphate as the “good guy”. This is a man who belonged to a terrorist organization, an avid Islamist and a spokesperson for the destruction of our way of life. Nope. Not good.

So, does that mean Mohammad Bin Salman is the “good guy”? Before this murder occurred, the media portrayed him as a great reformer, democratizing Saudi Arabia. This is “good” right?

The problem is that “democratizing” was also a media narrative. Salman passed reforms that loosened some restrictions on the population of Saudi Arabia however these have nothing to do with democracy and everything to do with creating a strategic balance to retain power, so that the young people in his country will not rebel. There is no actual freedom involved, just a little less oppression.

So why has the media expressed such shock over the murder of Khashoggi?
Is it some big surprise that Saudi Arabia is an oppressive regime with little (if any) regard for human rights? Mohammad Bin Salman, has disappeared members of his own (extended) family. They usually don’t die but go on extended “vacations” they can’t return from… What’s Khashoggi, a Saudi dissident, in comparison to family loyalties, particularly in a tribal society like Saudi Arabia?

The reality is that in the Middle East (and in all dictatorial countries), disappearing political enemies is standard practice. Murder, torture and abuse is common. In the history of humankind freedom and democracy are an aberration, not the norm.

This is also true for Turkey and Recep Tayyip Erdoğan. The sudden demand for justice for Khashoggi is laughable in the face of Erdoğan’s own abuse of human rights, jailing of journalists and disappearance of political adversaries.

The victim was an avid Islamist and terrorist sympathizer. The perpetrator is a dictatorial abusive regime. The country crying out in shock and outrage for what occurred on their soil has no better a track record.

None of these players are “good guys”.

The conflict between the facts and the narrative presented in the media raise disturbing questions:

· Why did the media so enthusiastically embrace Jamal Khashoggi, a known avid terrorist sympathizer, a member of a terrorist organization himself, as an innocent journalist?

· Why did the media first uphold Mohammad Bin Salman as some great reformer democratizing Saudi Arabia and now try to push for his removal?

· Why is there a huge push for America to impose sanctions on Saudi Arabia when the same people violently resisted sanctions on Iran?

· Why the demand to dissolve the $110 billion dollar arms deal Trump made with the Saudis? What lies in the balance? Prosperity and jobs for more Americans and arms for the Saudis to protect themselves from Iran vs some sudden awakening that the Saudi government is not democratic and doesn’t care about human rights?

Even without knowing all the details behind these obviously contradictory positions, they raise more questions than answers. That is the point when it is time to begin asking: who benefits from this narrative? What agenda is being furthered by this type of reporting?

Israel

Recently the Khashoggi story has reentered the news-cycle, this time with a new angle. Supposedly the technology the Saudis used to track Khashoggi was created by an Israeli company. This seems to be a tacit way to imply that Israel can be blamed as an accessory to this murder. Because Israel is always to blame. Or something.

Not my circus, not my monkeys

As much as the media might imply and insinuate, this story, thank God, is not our circus, not our monkeys. This story isn’t about Israel. It’s not about Jews. It’s not about America or Europe either. This is a story about Islamism and the internal war within Islam. This is about dictators and the way things are done in places that are not free.

The problem is that what is being presented as a Hollywood screenplay, is not. Real lives are at stake as is the balance of power among nations. When Middle Eastern countries are destabilized the “circus” does not stay “over there,” the “monkeys” stop being amusing and become very dangerous to people all over the world.

WE are the silent players in this show, the audience it is designed to influence. But why? Who benefits from this narrative? What agenda is being furthered?

We have lots of ideas, but we need more resources to be even more effective. Please donate today to help get the message out and to help defend Israel.

From the Maccabees to the IDF: 6 things you need to know about Hanukah (Forest Rain)

There seems to be a lot of confusion about Hanukah - to the point where it appears to be deliberate.

Let’s begin with what it’s not about.

1) It’s not a Jewish Christmas

In many circles Hanukah seems to have become an imitation Christmas – a holiday of food, lights, decorations and gifts. This is a sad considering that although both holidays fall in December, Hanukah has nothing to do with Christmas and perhaps even more ironically, without Hanukah, Christmas would not exist at all.

All Jewish holidays feature food, but the food is only a symbol, a reminder of the miracle of the holiday.

Hanukah is a holiday of lights but that too is a symbol, to help us remember and proclaim the miracle of the holiday.

Gift giving on Hanukah is not a Jewish tradition at all, only a habit adopted by Jews living near Christians, so that their children would not become jealous of the gifts Christians receive on their holiday. Giving children Hanukah “gelt”(=money) is a Jewish tradition. There are different explanations for this. The Rambam discusses the need to incentivize children to do what will be expected of them as a grown up thus it is appropriate to provide children an example of giving in order to teach them to give to those who have less. Additionally, as the Greek oppressors took Jewish property, giving children money is a symbolic way to celebrate that we have the freedom to choose what to do with what is ours (with the emphasis on using money to support spiritual causes rather than selfish gain). Another explanation is that as even the poorest Jew is supposed to have candles to light for the holiday, in order to prevent shame from children begging for their families, it became a tradition to give money to all the children in the community. Whatever explanation is the correct one (and possibly all are correct to some extent), the goal of Hanukah gelt is the antithesis of the Hellenistic desire towards personal enrichment, but rather being enriched spiritually by using money well.

2) Which miracle?

On Hanukah children play with dreidels marked with letters designed to remind them of the miracle of the holiday. This teaching tool differs depending on location. In the diaspora the dreidels are marked with four letters that say: “A great miracle happened there.” In Israel the last letter is different, signifying that: “A great miracle happened HERE.”

As an American child I didn’t really comprehend the significance. I knew the word “miracle” from storybooks. I knew that “there” meant Israel, a place I had visited as a child. But “there” was far away and had very little to do with my American life.

Without a concrete explanation of what we were commemorating the symbols of the holiday loomed larger than the message they are designed to convey. This opens the door to many unfortunate misunderstandings.

On the Jewish educational site Judaism 101 it says about Hanukah: Note that the holiday commemorates the miracle of the oil, not the military victory: Jews do not glorify war.

Excuse me?

Of course, the miracle of the oil is center to Hanukah but that could not have occurred without the military victory. War isn’t something to be glorified - it’s ugly, painful and results in grief and anguish but from there to the idea that Hanukah doesn’t celebrate the military victory is a huge leap.

From Josephus we learn that the first years following the victory of the Maccabees there were Hanukah celebrations that did not including Hanukah lights. The celebration was of victory – of the small band of warriors against the powerful Greek army, of the small stubborn tribe who clung to their traditions and religion and did not succumb to the compelling allure of the predominate Hellenistic culture.

The Hanukah miracle is the miracle of warriors of the body and spirit who refused to give up their identity and, in their stubbornness, won. THAT is glorious!

The miracle of light, the oil that burned for eight days when it only should have sufficed for a single day is a symbol for the miracle of retaining identity against all odds - a physical manifestation of the victory of body and faith over the powers of assimilation.

When the light of our People should have died out, through faith and hard work, determination and willingness to suffer for a greater good, it did not. The light is important because it is a testament to Jewish faith and that, in return, God grants us miracles. Light without faith would not exist. Light without the military victory would only be a dramatic folk story, easily dismissed and quickly forgotten.

It is the combination of light and victory that makes the miraculous story of Hanukah complete.

3) Without God there is no victory

Matitiyahu, father of the Maccabees, was a Cohen, a priest in the Temple. He was also a warrior, as were his sons.

In an attempt to erase Jewish culture and ensure the dominance of the Greek culture, Antiochus erected a statue to Zeus in the Temple in Jerusalem and demanded the sacrifice of pigs on the altar. It was Matitiyahu, the priest, who set the standard of unwavering Jewish faith. When the Seleucid Greek government demanded the sacrifice to the Greek gods, Matitiyahu not only refused to do so, but slew with his own hand the Jew who had stepped forward to do so. He then killed the government official that required the act. It was his sons who led the revolt against the oppressing government and, against all odds – regained Jewish sovereignty and religious freedom.

Faith is not a sentiment that can remain in the realm of theory, it calls for action. Similarly, victory does not occur due to the actions of man, alone.

In the Torah, before battle, the priest is supposed to tell the Nation (Deuteronomy - Chapter 20):

"Hear, O Israel, today you are approaching the battle against your enemies. Let your hearts not be faint; you shall not be afraid, and you shall not be alarmed, and you shall not be terrified because of them.		גוְאָמַ֤ר אֲלֵהֶם֙ שְׁמַ֣ע יִשְׂרָאֵ֔ל אַתֶּ֨ם קְרֵבִ֥ים הַיּ֛וֹם לַמִּלְחָמָ֖ה עַל־אֹֽיְבֵיכֶ֑ם אַל־יֵרַ֣ךְ לְבַבְכֶ֗ם אַל־תִּֽירְא֧וּ וְאַל־תַּחְפְּז֛וּ וְאַל־תַּֽעַרְצ֖וּ מִפְּנֵיהֶֽם:
For the Lord, your God, is the One Who goes with you, to fight for you against your enemies, to save you.		דכִּ֚י יְהֹוָ֣ה אֱלֹֽהֵיכֶ֔ם הַֽהֹלֵ֖ךְ עִמָּכֶ֑ם לְהִלָּחֵ֥ם לָכֶ֛ם עִם־אֹֽיְבֵיכֶ֖ם לְהוֹשִׁ֥יעַ אֶתְכֶֽם:

Jewish faith says that God walks with us into battle, to fight for us and save us. This is not a figurative description but a very literal one. The Maccabees must have heard this prayer before battle as do IDF soldiers today. This clip is from Israeli News (Channel 2) at the time of Operation Cast Lead (Gaza Dec 27, 2008 – Jan 18, 2009). It opens with the IDF Chief Rabbi Rontzki reciting the prayer before battle.

The Hanukah song, Maoz Tzur, acknowledges this truth as it appears over and over throughout Jewish history. In the time of the Maccabees, the exile to Babylon, from Haman’s attempt at genocide and slavery under Pharaoh – each time the Jewish people were in danger of being wiped out, physically or through cultural extermination (assimilation) and each time, in different ways, God saved us from our enemies.

Without God there is no victory. Miracles are not a thing of religious fantasy, they are a tangible experience, the deciding factor between life and death, a nation victorious or a nation lost.

4) Holiday, not a holy day

Part of the confusion surrounding Hanukah is that it is a holiday but not a holy day. The story of Hanukah is that of an event in Jewish history and is not part of the Torah. The ritualistic elements of Hanukah center around the Hanukah lights, how they are lit, what prayers are said, not working during the time they are burning and not doing actions connected with mourning.

Hanukah is a celebration of Jewish nationalism (which does not exist without God) and not a holiday of religious holiness although there are some prayers that are specifically associated with Hanukah. It similar to celebrating Israel’s Independence Day which also commemorates the victory of a tiny group of stubborn Jews fighting for sovereignty and freedom, against an enemy much more powerful and well equipped and – by the grace of God – WINNING.

5) The fight for Judea

King Arthur and Camelot are part of a glorious but fictitious story about a King creating a better, kinder reality for England. In contrast, the Maccabees were real people who fought for Jewish freedom and the sanctity of the Temple on the Temple Mount in the heart of Jerusalem.

The Maccabees lived and died in the land which gave the Jewish People our name – Judea.

Today the Jewish fight for Judea continues, it is only the methodology and field of battle that have changed. It is no longer a conquering army but a battle fought with terminology designed to create a new reality, attempting to influence public perception in order to affect political policy. International organizations, companies like Airbnb, the BDS movement and individual Jew-haters call Judea the “West Bank”, a term that is not geographical but political in nature (it would be similar to calling Texas, “North Mexico”). - designed to associate that area of land with Jordan, disconnecting Judea from Zion, as if Zion would exist without Judea.

Modern day fiction cannot change Jewish history however it can change Jewish future. Forgetting our roots enables the fictitious to root itself and become “alternative facts” which are already being used to wipe us off the map – literally.

Jews are from Judea. (And Arabs are from Arabia). It really is that simple.

6) Two front war

The Maccabees fought a battle on two fronts:

· The physical battle against the army of Antiochus who tried, by force, to eliminate Jewish identity – occupying the land, refusing its occupants the right to live and worship as Jews, defiling the Temple in the heart of Jerusalem.

· The spiritual battle against assimilation, necessitating confrontation even with other Jews who found Hellenistic culture alluring and were willing to give up Judaism, to assimilate with the Greeks, forgetting Jewish uniqueness for the ease of becoming like everyone else.

What difference is there between the battle of the Maccabees and the fight of Jews today, particularly Israeli Jews? Today, as in the time of the Maccabees, it seems it would take a miracle to retain Jewish identity and freedom in the face of the modern forces hell-bent on eliminating the Jewish State and Jewish willingness to assimilate in the hope of becoming “like everyone else.”

In a time when many view nationalism, borders and uniqueness to be evils that must be expunged from the world, it is convenient to forget what Hanukah is all about. It is less threatening when Hanukah becomes a trivial imitation of Christmas, a holiday of lights and doughnuts.

Over the centuries fear has led Jews to put their heads down and weather the storm of whatever discrimination or violence was directed at the community: “We survived Pharaoh, this too shall pass.” Living under oppression led Jews to turn within, to focus on spirituality, rituals and theories. Destruction of the Temple, exile and disconnect from the land which gave us our name led Jews to set aside the physicality of Jews life.

We forgot that we come from a nation of warriors.

The re-establishment of the Jewish State led Jews around the world to once again raise their heads in pride. In theory this was pride in prophesy actualized. In actuality this was pride in Jewish identity once again becoming complete. The spiritual Jew, reconnected with the physical Jew. The warrior once again, free in the land from which our people sprang.

This, of course, revived an even greater wave of Jew-hate and subsequent Jewish fear. It is easy for the world to accept the meek Jew, to go through the motions of sympathy for the dead Jew. Strong Jews who can reach their arm across the globe to pluck Jews out of the hands of their enemies are a completely different story. Warrior Jews who refuse to give up, refuse to die and refuse to become like everyone else are threat to a world that demands that all nations relinquish identity, uniqueness and borders.

Frightened Jews, still believe that returning to meekness will appease the haters. If only the Jewish State was less Jewish maybe the hate would die down. If only individual Jews would set aside their Jewish identity, they could become like everyone else and no longer be hated… Fear makes people irrational and unable to learn from the past.

Hanukah is the story of Jewish nationalism. An indigenous people, fighting for their ancestral homeland and tribal rights AND WINNING.

This is the same Jewish nationalism that was objected to when the Jewish State was declared in 1948. The same nationalism that was recently defined by the Nation State law, defining that the Jewish People are the only People who have the right to self-determination as a nation within the State of Israel. All citizens have the right to individual self-determination but only the Jewish Nation has the right to the Jewish State.

No wonder the Hanukah is being minimized and trivialized. Nothing is scarier than a Maccabee.

We have lots of ideas, but we need more resources to be even more effective. Please donate today to help get the message out and to help defend Israel.

Scorpion by Nature: PTSD and other labels (Forest Rain)

Scorpion by Nature: PTSD and other labels
What do a tattoo artist, an IDF wounded warrior and a scorpion have in common?
by Forest Rain www.inspirationfromzion.com

Brilliant blue eyes and smile lines etched in his face could not diminish the horror of the event he was describing. Possibly it was this inherent charm, his almost apologetic leaning towards me as he spoke, as if subconsciously pleading for understanding, that evoked in me an intense reaction to what he described so calmly:

“It was in 2000. On the way home from the army, the car I was in was ambushed by terrorists. The soldier next to me was shot. I was shot too. I got out, returned fire and killed two terrorists. We drove off but they had already spread the news and before we got much further a lynch mob was waiting for us. I was shot again, in the chest. I killed two more terrorists and then we got away. They told me later I had been mortally wounded.”

Ambushed. Shot twice. Surviving the first ambush only to end up in a much worse situation. Battling for his life. Struggling to protect himself and the other passengers in the car while he was bleeding out. How is it possible to do something so amazing?!

A man like Yossi would probably answer: “How is it possible not to? What other choice did I have? Death by lynch mob is much worse than death by bullets and there were other people with me.”

I say probably because I didn’t ask. That’s just what people like Yossi say.

I have lived in Israel long enough to learn that no real hero will call himself a hero or be comfortable with other people giving him that title. He will tell you about the people he didn’t save. He will tell you about others who deserve grand titles more than he does. He will tell you he did his best, that he wishes he could have done better. That he just did what needed to be done.

“Just.” Such a small word…

What comes to mind when you hear the term “hero”? Do you think of a Superman, a comic-book superhero? Someone with big muscles and a loud voice? Strong and self-assured?

How would you label someone like Yossi?

For many it is difficult to understand that the scars left by bullet holes that almost killed you can be negligible compared to the trenches extreme trauma can dig into your psyche. Physical wounds usually heal. It is the wounds of the soul that cause the worst damage.

Quietly, not searching for sympathy, just as an explanation, Yossi told me that because of his PTSD he cannot work indoors, in a typical job so he works outside, in construction, volunteering to help others who are suffering. When he was injured, after the physical wounds healed, there was no one who could really help him with the emotional burden. Now he helps other soldiers who have been through traumatic experiences.

Who would ever imagine that it would be a tattoo artist from South Africa who would step up to help Yossi?

Nicholas Mudskipper is a nice guy.

Nick came to Israel as part of a group of tattoo artists of an international caliber participating in a unique program called Healing Ink. The goal of the program is to utilize the art of tattooing to bring psychological and emotional support to people suffering from trauma and Post Traumatic Stress Disorder (PTSD). The tattoo serves as a type of talisman for the recipient, a permanent piece of artwork to transform an ugly experience of violence and hate into a conscious choice of beauty. The act of choosing the tattoo empowers the recipient who did not choose to experience the traumatic event. Sometimes recipients choose tattoos that covers physicals scars, incorporating them into the art created. Others choose symbols of things they need to be reminded of when the darkness of remembered trauma overwhelms them, a kind of light to hold on to when everything else seems too overwhelming.

Historically Jews have an aversion to tattoos – due to the practice being explicitly forbidden in the Torah and the more recent memory of our parents and grandparents being forcibly tattooed with dehumanizing numbers by Nazis. Today the practice is becoming more socially acceptable in Israel. Heavily tattooed people are not common in Israel but people who have one or two tattoos are no longer a rarity.

In Israel, seeing someone like Nick, covered as he is in tattoos, is unusual. The question is, would you stop to talk to him and learn about his art or would the tattoos on his arms (and legs) distract you? Would you see the man or the paintings on his skin?

To me it seems that most tattoo artists must reject labels. It takes guts to decorate your skin with permanent art and disregard what others might think as a result.

Coming from South Africa to Israel, to help IDF wounded warriors must not have been an easy thing. I can’t imagine that in the country that would rather go without water than accept Israeli technology that would solve the crisis, many would find the concept of offering support to one of our soldiers acceptable.

But Nick didn’t see the labels so many others put on Israelis. He saw people, individuals he could help, just by being himself, doing what he does best. This wasn’t about supporting a political cause or a “side”, this was about recognizing human pain and using art to minimize suffering.

Like I said, Nick is a nice guy.

Most people find it difficult to understand PTSD. Often negative or traumatic experiences are conflated with PTSD. This is similar to people saying: “I forgot where I put my keys, I must have Alzheimer’s Disease!” Many people have had traumatic experiences. These leave a residue of negative memory. This is nothing like PTSD that repeatedly pulls the sufferer back into the horror in a full sensory experience that is not a memory but the experience relived. Over and over and over. (Read this to get a better understanding of PTSD).

One of the biggest challenges for someone suffering from PTSD is recreating their relationship with the label: “normal”. Imagine yourself in Yossi’s shoes. Would you ever be able to shake the fear of being trapped in a situation that could kill you? Can you imagine doing something normal like getting in a car to drive home? What would it be like to suddenly be caught in a traffic jam, cars piling up and no way to get out?

Interestingly it was Nick’s open mind and heart that brought normality to Yossi. For the time they spent together, Yossi wasn’t a label: IDF soldier, hero, injured, PTSD… he was just a guy.

They discovered that both were interested in the same sports. Both are MMA fighters and do similar workout routines. That was enough to create an instant connection. It was easy to overcome the differences in language and life experiences because they weren’t divided by labels.

It was the scorpion that threw me for a loop. I watched Nick and Yossi excitedly discuss the story they were both familiar with about the scorpion and the frog:

A scorpion and a frog meet on the bank of a stream and the scorpion asks the frog to carry him across on its back. The frog asks, "How do I know you won't sting me?" The scorpion says, "Because if I do, I will die too."

The frog is satisfied, and they set out, but in midstream, the scorpion stings the frog. The frog feels the onset of paralysis and starts to sink, knowing they both will drown, but has just enough time to gasp "Why?"

Replies the scorpion: "It’s my nature..."

Yossi wanted Nick to tattoo a big scorpion on his back, next to the scars left from the bullet holes. At first the choice seemed incomprehensible. Why would Yossi want to brand himself with the scorpion that stings even when he knows it will kill himself? Why did Nick feel this was a cool and positive choice to make? What was I missing?

When I came back at the end of the session and saw the final tattoo, it’s meaning began to dawn on me.

Yossi straightened himself, to stand proud, his body no longer apologetic. The scars are still visible but it is the scorpion that draws the eye – his choice, not what was inflicted on him.

The scorpion is dangerous, it stings, it can kill. Knowing this, Yossi chose to put that on his back. He did not choose the ambush. He did not choose the PTSD that changed his life forever. His desire to carry the scorpion on his back is an acceptance of his “new normal” and a bold statement of power and freedom.

It is a declaration that being fully aware of the difficult, harsh and sometimes damaging nature of this new normal, he is strong enough to carry it.

We have lots of ideas, but we need more resources to be even more effective. Please donate today to help get the message out and to help defend Israel.

Give Thanks to the Everyday Heroes (Forest Rain)

What are you thankful for?

Great people walk amongst us every day, so common, so ordinary, that they’re usually taken for granted and rarely thanked. Who notices when we pass a nurse, a storekeeper or a guard in the entrance to a supermarket?

I would like to thank these everyday heroes: The men and women of the army and security services that protect us. The citizens who have tackled armed terrorists with their bare hands without a thought for their own safety. All the people who have stepped closer to suicide bombers to shield others from the explosions. The doctors, nurses and paramedics who see the dead and the wounded again and again while working tirelessly to save lives. The amazing Zaka volunteers who come after every attack to clean up the pieces.

Every person who, just to fulfill their daily routine, has to pass places where people they loved were murdered – shopkeepers who go to work, children whose parents or relatives were murdered in their own home, people who live their regular lives in places where bombs fell, bullets flew and terrorists exploded. The children whose clear thinking saved their younger brothers and sisters are heroes. The mothers and fathers who raise their children in happiness and joy, knowing that when they are eighteen, they will have to go to the army and possibly to war and horror. The children who grow up with the news of dead soldiers, bereaved parents and memories of the funerals they attended and still are full of motivation to work hard, serve the country and protect us all.

Sometimes going to a club, café or party is an act of heroic defiance. The people who refuse to be cowed by terrorism and insist on living their lives to the fullest. The people who rather than being consumed by hate and trauma strive to make the world a better place, full of compassion, even for our would-be murderers –

All of you are the source of my strength and hope.

In Israel we live under the shadow of death, of current and remembered horrors. Suicide bombing must be one of the most evil things invented by man. Turning kites and balloons, children’s toys, into weapons of destruction and terror is a diabolical level of creativity. Again, and again we are surprised by the depths of depravity but, BUT we must remember that the other side of greatest evil is greatest good.

We see this awe inspiring good in our everyday heroes. These courageous, stubborn, compassionate, good people are OUR people, the Maccabees of today, the heroes of tomorrow.

Most people don’t recognize the heroism of the everyday Israeli. Maybe it’s because we don’t make a big deal out of it. After all, what choice do we have? Lay down and die? Be miserable? But the thing is that this is a big deal. And for that I say: Thank you. All of you.

We have lots of ideas, but we need more resources to be even more effective. Please donate today to help get the message out and to help defend Israel.

Heroism, unsung: Lt. Col M.

Is it possible to mourn a man you don’t know?

A wave of sadness hit me and, with a sigh, I sat down next to the grave of Lt. Col M., tears welling up in my eyes.

The fresh grave was piled with flower wreaths, bright and beautiful, a silent testament of the grief of those who truly understood the enormity of the loss. To them he was not anonymous – a son, husband, father, friend, colleague and mentor who touched countless lives, influenced organizations and helped shape the country we have today.

This man, who must remain anonymous for national security reasons and for the safety of his own family, dedicated his life to our country, knowing that he would never get public credit or glory. Heroism, unsung.

On Nov 11^th, we learned of a special operation happening inside Gaza that developed into a gun fight between IDF soldiers and Hamas terrorists. The reporting that night ended with the information that 7 Hamas terrorists were killed, including one of their regional military leaders. We were told that all the IDF soldiers returned to Israeli territory.

No one reported what condition they were in.

The next day we learned that M. had been killed and another soldier had been injured. Later the media released some details of the heroism of that night – how M drew fire to himself, giving the other soldiers the time needed to react to the threat. How the injured soldier tried to save M. How the IAF pilot rescued the soldiers from the midst of a full-blown firefight.

Hollywood creates blockbuster films from the stories of lesser deeds.

During my years in Israel I learned that real heroes don’t like to be given that label. In their minds, they just did what needed to be done. Often, their focus will be on what was not accomplished, feeling uncomfortable and upset that they did not do more.

Lt. Col M. was an Israeli hero. He died heroically but more than that, he lived heroically. He was an example and an inspiration to those who knew him, a friend who listened more than he spoke, always there, always ready to help.

The results of his unsung deeds (and those of others like him) are living Israelis, people who would otherwise be dead.

I am glad I had the opportunity to speak with his parents and wife. It is such a small thing… there is no real way to repay such an enormous debt or to provide solace for such depths of grief.

To his parents I said: “The people of Israel know that we owe him so much but we can’t thank him so I came to thank you for raising your son to become who he was.”

His father’s response was: “We all owe so much to this country. We need to do everything possible for each other.” His mother thanked me and expressed what many bereaved parents before her have said: “I hope that he will be the last one. That no other mother will have to feel this.” How many mothers have said that before her? How many will say that after?

When I saw his wife, my heart cracked. Straight and small, she had tissues balled up in her hands. She cried, almost silently. I gave her a hug. Relatives and friends surrounded her, supporting her, strained to hear what we were saying.

What could I say?

Nothing can really comfort when your foundation is suddenly shattered, ripped out from underneath you. How do you reconcile the fact that your husband had two loves, your family and your country, and that his dedication to one resulted in him being taken from the other?

I told her: “I know this doesn’t help but maybe it will make things a little less terrible to know that there are people all over the country and even around the world who don’t know your name but know about your sorrow and are praying for you, that you will have strength and comfort. That your children will be okay. That knowing that their daddy was a hero will help. Please hug them knowing this. Knowing that many, many people care.”

Softly she responded: “Thank you. I will hug them a lot. Give them many, many hugs.”

True heroism isn’t in glory. It is modest and quiet. Unsung.

We have lots of ideas, but we need more resources to be even more effective. Please donate today to help get the message out and to help defend Israel.

Art over hate: Ryan Ashley Malarkey (Forest Rain)

Ryan Ashley is like a long cold drink on a hot summer day. Cool, confident and extraordinarily talented. She made history as the first woman to win Ink Master after eight seasons of the tattooing reality tv show competition which led to her participation in the spin-off show Ink Master: Angels – and despite her prominence in a male dominated industry, she seems to have no arrogance in her.

Ryan is not the kind of woman you would expect to find in Israel. Her visit becomes even more extraordinary when you know its purpose – to use her art to help IDF wounded warriors heal.

I am very glad I had the opportunity to watch Ryan at work. A natural born artist, she began her career as a fashion designer and when she fell in love with tattooing, flesh became her canvas.

I, who am incapable of drawing a straight line with a ruler, was flabbergasted when she showed me the tattoos on her leg and said nonchalantly: “The cat I did myself, upside-down.” For her, many of her tattoos are drawings she just felt like doing, as others might doodle on paper in their free time, Ryan creates permanent art for herself and others.

Israel is becoming more open to tattooing although once it was an absolute taboo. Tattooing is explicitly forbidden in the Torah (Leviticus 19:28): “do not tattoo yourself”. The verse comes in a section of laws that explain how Jews are supposed to live. This verse refers to two practices common to other nations of the time that are both forbidden to Jews as pagan customs are not to be emulated. Modern day Jewish aversion to tattoos was strengthened by Nazis forcibly tattooing Jews with numbers during the Holocaust.

Today it is becoming more and more socially acceptable to get a tattoo. Sometimes parents and their teenage/twentysomething children get tattoos together. Sometimes grandparents get tattoos of the names of their grandchildren.

Healing Ink brings tattoo artists of an international caliber to Israel, to give tattoos to selected survivors of terrorism and war. The session that took place in Haifa’s Museum of Modern Art was dedicated to IDF wounded warriors. At first tattooing and healing might seem like a strange combination but when it’s understood that extreme trauma changes the body and the mind, it makes sense to take back a feeling of control by choosing to tattoo yourself with an empowering symbol or image.

Some of the tattoo recipients choose to cover physical scars with beautiful imagery, turning the ugliness inflicted on them into something they can love. Others choose symbols of strength, freedom and being able to leave the past behind. It is about choice and control over what happens to your own body.

Ryan, like the other tattoo artists in the group, came to Israel to use art to heal, to lessen trauma with kindness. There was no political agenda involved. Most of the artists who came were not Jewish and had no knowledge of Israel. Their interest was not in politics or an agenda but simply in humanity.

We Israelis are rarely given this kind of human consideration.

Haifa’s Museum of Modern Art had arranged a day for this special tattoo event. The artists, recipients and museum visitors became living art. Tomer, the man Ryan tattooed was not talkative. He obviously felt a little uncomfortable at being an “exhibit” but Ryan’s calm confidence created a peaceful bubble in which he too could relax.

Unlike some of the other recipients, he was reluctant to speak of the trauma he experienced. He was willing to say that it was in one of the Gaza wars and that he hoped the dream catcher Ryan was creating would help. Looking at him no physical injury was visible. Possibly all that is left is trauma to the soul.

It is not often that one can feel the caliber of a person just by being in their presence but, despite his few words, the quality of character was obvious. When the event was over, I asked him how it felt to have such a special woman come across the ocean, just for him. His eyes sparkled and a huge smile lit up his face. In a typical Israeli understatement, it was his expression that gave meaning to the words: “It’s something! Really something!”

As a people, we more often than not, feel very alone in the world. For those carrying the weight of trauma, this feeling is even more extreme. Now, every time Tomer looks at his leg he will see Ryan’s art and know that someone cared about him enough to fly halfway across the world, to give him a piece of herself, just to make him feel better.

That is very powerful.

Hate is very strong. It steals our lives, ruins families, breaks bodies and bends the psyche, damaging the soul but sometimes, art can overcome.

We have lots of ideas, but we need more resources to be even more effective. Please donate today to help get the message out and to help defend Israel.