Hard week to be a Jew

I went to grown-up shabbat services last night. I felt so grown-up. For many years now - especially since moving to a place 40 minutes (on a good traffic day) away from our congregational meeting place, we have gone almost exclusively to services that have a kid-specific component. Tot Shabbat, Nashira (Hebrew school Sundays), and congregational celebrations for high holy days, Hannukah, Purim. But my friend, Mira - a jew in an interfaith family and until 2 years ago, living in "exile" in small town Alaska, wanted to go. And, let's be honest, it's been a hard week to be a Jew.

During the drive in, I listened to public radio (another rare, grown-up activity - so much bad news I don't want the kids to hear. Because if they hear, they will ask questions. Questions demand answers. Perhaps I am too cowardly to attempt explanations to what often seems so unexplainable). During the entire drive last night, NPR programming covered this past week's activities in the Gaza Strip. It's a hard week to be a humanitarian Jew. The conflict and escalation and refusal to back down on both sides is just sickening. The loss of life and destruction of nature and property are staggering. And, yet, the roots of the conflict seem so simple. On a smaller scale (and with less dire consequences), they are the conflicts that I see my kids play out every day. I am right. You are wrong. I will not give in, forgive, speak to you, be your friend until YOU apologize. In the absence of your apology, I will not give in, forgive, speak to you, be your friend until some higher power (mom, or, the UN) acknowledges the rightness of ME and gets you in trouble, slaps your hand, expresses their disappointment. YOU STARTED IT.

All of this hearing and thinking was only made more poignant by the fact that I was driving to Shabbat services. How is it that a country- in which I would not be accepted as a Jew by much of the population, in which I would not be driving to shabbat, in which there are ramifications for work of any kind from sundown Friday to sundown Saturday- how is it that a country and a people observant to the covenants of god justifies such relentless bombing with significant loss of human life - ever, let alone on shabbat? How is this scale of attack not an act of genocide? I don't ask these questions for inflammatory purposes. I ask because I cannot understand. How do I hold up my head as a Jew? How do I ask for fairer, non-biased treatment for my children in our rural community's school district against this backdrop?

It was good to be at services. I feel so blessed to have found a congregational home that is not afraid to acknowledge and tackle these tough questions. I feel encouraged by the love and respect and care shown by all who are struggling with, if not these same questions, similiar ones. I feel proud of our Rabbi who is a strong advocate for critical thinking and human rights and is so gifted at addressing the completeness of a situation with compassion for all involved. And, in times of trouble, it is good to gather. It is good to sing. It is good to remark upon blessings.