To him, there is no seeming distinction between theologies and attitudes of middle-eastern people, rather, if the person comes from that region, he checks their belongings with extra attention to detail.
The security man cautiously smiles back to the bearded Jew. He takes his belongings and begins to open his suitcase and sift through the contents. He looks to the Jew and apologizes for wasting his time. The Jewish man smiles again and says:
"It's alright, I'm used to this sort of thing, I face it every day in Israel."
A little confused, the security attendant responds:
"You mean security checks?"
"Yes"
"What? Why?"
"For me," says the Jew, "going to supermarket, going to the movies, going into a restaurant, getting on a bus all have the same frustrations of flying internationally."
With curiosity and a hint of sympathy, the security man inquires further:
"You get checked by security even walking into a restaurant?"
"Sure! Not just me either, my wife and my children and all our bags. But you know, eventually it becomes part of your life. You just deal with it like every other routine."
"Wow Sir, it really saddens me to hear that. Tell me though, is the government just being over-cautious?"
"Unfortunately not my friend. In Israel, we live continually in a state of caution. Lives are threatened every day. People die for their country before every really exploring the world. It is really very depressing."
The security attendant zips up the Jews bag, hands it to the Jew and farewells him.
"G-d bless you sir."
This is how life has become is Israel. You walk around populated areas and you see the result of continual, relentless aggression. Wherever you go you are checked by security. Every single bus, without fail, has security personnel checking people and bags at every single stop. But life goes on.
However, from time to time, you are reminded of the unfortunate souls who have lost their lives in the injustice and the confusion of fighting for their country and fighting to continually assert Israel's right to exit.
Two weeks ago was Yom Ha Zikaron. This date doesn't usually field an entry into the defined religious calendar dates, but it certainly exists in all dimensions of Israeli life as the national day of weeping. The country flocks to Mount Herzl and pays tribute to all the soldiers who lost their lives fighting for a dream. Security checks are the final outcome. But Mount Herzl takes you inside the stories of such tragic bloodshed. Mount Herzl has been described as one of the most holy places in Israel. The very earth itself comforts the sons and daughters of Israel. The graves look out over Jerusalem and, at least in death, they can admire the holy views of their land.
As you walk into the grounds, you are struck by the sheer number of people who are coming to cry with those affected. In fact, once you walk inside, you begin to feel that almost all Israelis have either directly lost a child or know close friends who have. As you approach the thousands of graves, you can't help but stop and read the headstones. Immediately, you are struck by the age of the fallen… 17, 18, 19, 20.
You begin to stagger. Is this really possible? What has it come down to? How fruitless were my pursuits at those ages? How trivial has my life been? These are the heroes! These are the people whose souls we must pray for! I began to cry. |
