written April 2018
It is the seder evening and no one shall be and eat alone
When the exodus, this birth, the redemption is remembered –
and they play a song with a chorus about Mashiach ben David,
Messiah son of David. The future, redemption yet to come.
Two soldiers on duty sit next to me in the dining hall of the kibbutz, eating hastingly
Many glad and joyful faces, people singing songs…
The two young men do not smile, their faces stern
They drink water, no wine
Someone reads a passage that echoes Isaiah’s, Micah’s prophecies:
“They will beat their swords into plowshares and their spears into pruning hooks.”
And just a few days later the border with Gaza burns.
And I remember a quote by Gold Meir – teacher, kibbutznik, the only woman ever prime minister of Israel, from 1969 to 74.
A quote I once read, somewhere some day, on another kibbutz:
“We can forgive the Arabs for killing our children. We cannot forgive them for forcing us to kill their children. We will only have peace with the Arabs when they love their children more than they hate us.”
A quote to ponder deeply. Sharply revealing the abyss.
Come, Mashiach, come.