In the past two weeks, routine has been disrupted, and Israel has entered a firefight the likes of which we have never seen before. Hundreds of rockets in a single volley scattered over the skies of cities have become a trivial matter, and alarms going off at all hours have become routine, and yet nothing seems to have changed in the all-too-familiar narrative of the Israeli person.
Indeed, the "nearby" method is still operating in full force, and the insight that "my power and the might of my hand have made me this force" emerges in all of them. No, I am not talking here about the discourse of those sitting in the General Staff Command or even the discourse on the streets of Tel Aviv. Absolutely not. Dozens and hundreds of people who are observant of Torah and mitzvot are talking among themselves about the great virtue of the dome, neither black nor golden, that one made of iron. Those who know the matter, and there are quite a few of them in our theaters, know how to talk about the great invention that changed history, and many praise the Israeli insight that decided to support the production of the Iron Dome.
Not everyone is like that. There are the Pharisees and the fearful, for whom the fear of God and His work is always before them and they only see visible miracles before their eyes. When others talk about Iron Dome, they will wave their hand dismissively and talk about a heavenly hand that deflects the missiles and rockets into open areas. When they talk about power, they talk about spirit, and when they dare to talk about security, they will cite what exactly will happen if God does not protect a city. And they are right, of course. There is no other understanding and insight into what is happening right before our fleshly eyes.
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But for some reason, it seems that the eye is not truly open and the heart does not really understand the power and greatness of everyday miracles.
Where are the mass Thanksgiving parties?
If a person were to travel on a major highway and be involved in a near-fatal car accident, is it possible to describe in words the magnitude of his excitement and gratitude to his God who protected and preserved him? This Jew would probably hold a special feast as if God had been kind to him, and various Targima would be distributed to everyone, with a special blessing for the soul of every living being for his miraculous rescue. The same is true of a fearing and anxious Jew who, by the grace of God, was able to be saved from an illness that was almost at its end. Even then, a great thanksgiving feast would be a blessing to his God, the guardian, protector, and savior.
But here, in the last two weeks, when the miracles of God that accompany us without understanding or recognition have become commonplace, and a missile that exploded has become a miracle, in days when words like 'open space' in such a densely populated country have become naturally understandable - for some reason we have not encountered parties and celebrations.
After all, any intelligent person who looks with eyes free from road dust at the reality that surrounds us is likely to be moved to the point of exhaustion by the reality of God, blessed be He, that overlaps our heads almost naturally. There is no point in listing the miracles that have been performed so far. That would be ridiculous. If we actually list the hits that did succeed, and the falls that did occur over the past two weeks, our understanding of reality and God's miracles will grow even greater.
Only – God bless you.'
Have we become blind? Are we like the deaf? Five fronts have opened up against us in two weeks; Gaza and Sinai in the south, Syria and Lebanon in the north, with the range of their attacks covering our entire country. And above all is the fifth front of our Ishmaelite cousins who are hitting us from our hiding places in Jerusalem and the center. And we just look and are stunned. Just look and, at best, utter some statement along the lines of 'God bless you.'.
Where are the great Kiddushim? Where are the 'soul' statements in the majority? Is the affliction of many a lesser affliction than the affliction of an individual? Isn't salvation from a mass slaughter defined as a private and personal gathering just because so-and-so was also saved from the same plague?
We sleep soundly, we stand like sheep to the slaughter. There is no hood, no iron. There is no protection, no comfort, and if it were not for God, who helps us like a lamb, our bodies would be laid in the streets of the city. This is the time and the occasion to rise from the bed of habitual illness, to remove the shell of routine and run, to run into the chambers of the heart, to dig well into them, and to sigh from deep inner purity, "The soul of every living thing blesses your name.".
And one final word: I do not bring wrath and I do not wish, God forbid, that the routine of miracles that we experience on a daily basis will change. But this must be known, we have now entered our days among the Egyptians. The days are difficult, there is no doubt about it. During this period, the natural daily vigilance that accompanies us when we go out and come in has somewhat waned. Various and strange pests roam our streets and elsewhere. Therefore, it is only natural that the devil who is angry in times of danger will be angry, God forbid, even in these days when he has been given permission to roam the streets. Please be careful and be on your guard, a little more than on a normal day, and a little more than in times of war.
