ENCOUNTER THE SPIRIT

  Those three words caught my eye and attention as I read that piece of a statement made by Audra Day who sang "Lift Every Voice and Sing", the Black national anthem. And I wondered. The Black national anthem, sung at the Superbowl? Of equal status with the Star-Spangled Banner, America's national anthem or its unofficial anthem, G-d Bless America? How did I miss the announcement of the new policy of allowing, even encouraging, each group living within America to choose their own national anthem. Yes, Jewish affairs often include a rendition of Hatikvah, The Hope, the anthem of Israel, but it is not presented as an alternative American national anthem.    

Frankly, in the rather uncertain atmosphere of the times, many Americans are singing that Israeli anthem with more feeling. The more American extremists - and non-extremists - buy into all the crap, all the ugly invective aimed at Jews, the growing movement to isolate them, push them into irrelevancy, dehumanize them, the louder and prouder is Hatikvah. By now, every antenna of Jewish origin has awoken to the pain of genetic, historical traumas, and it is neither pleasant nor reassuring. It is a deja vu of negativity that would have been better denied a place within America, within the world. Will that ever become a reality? Will we all "encounter the spirit"? That which moves humanity to a recognition and implementation of a shared humanity, of true equity, one not based on the debasing and degradation of a different 'other'.  Not perceiving any tints of pink here yet.

Waiting, waiting, waiting. 

The spirit of justice and righteousness still unmet, encounter postponed, for the atmosphere of lives today is not conducive nor welcoming to good results from a visit. Not at all, even as it is so desperately needed. This is nothing new, for humanity has too often found itself out of step, mistiming, of their needs, the needs of society of the time, how to mesh them in a good, lasting fix. Instead, we choose to remain within the realm of acidity of revenge, of the primitive, deadly, ever more efficient paths of war. Will we ever learn? Will we never learn?

Great doubts, for instead, we are all at sea in the deep fog of night and hopelessness, we struggle to find a   sign, any sign of hope, that the little bird of hope remains alive out there in the hostile real world jungle. That the notes continue to resound, somewhere, and we must learn to listen harder, to hear better. In the dust of despair, we seek crumbs of optimism, of a chance that maybe, possibly, there remains a little weak bird of hope, weak, yet mighty enough to inspire others to join in and share its notes, learn the song, feel the  words, raise their voices together, in unison, and effect some change, for the better, for incentive to go further.  

Though dim, we can discern some pink, a few notes attached, as two hostages are rescued, as the Gaza War might draw to a close within a month's time, with Hamas and their evil destroyed, and all our hostages returned, the dead buried with honor, and never, never, never again allow this horror   to be repeated. Never. The image of those two beautiful brothers, Kfir and Ariel, both lions of the Lord, clutched close, enfolded in the arms of that terrorized mother, will never fade. It cannot be the first of many more such horrors. It simply cannot. 

Habayta, home, is where we all must be, where we find a place of warmth and welcome. A place which inspires talk and sense, an understanding of shared traits rather than our differences. Suely that is better than violence, than bloodshed, then the agony and pain ensuing from those blackened emotions and actions. 

In futility we wage wars of no value, yet all other paths are closed to us. Trace the wars of humankind and see the relationship between them, how one war leads to another and another and another, the causative issues remain unresolved and inevitably off we go again, to war, to deaths, to overwhelming grief. Truly, there are no winners in war, only two losing sides, one with fewer casualties than the other. Both lose. No one wins. Not in the long run. Never. 

Will this be resolved within the lifetime of those reading this blog?  Highly doubtful. We are simply not built that way, to listen to inner voices and hopes of peace and amity, for we hear and feel the emotions of anger, the desire for vengeance far more powerful, more instinctive to us. I know, for I feel them as well. It is called being human but how I wish we would be better. We could.   

Wil we ever?

-------------------------------------------------------------

Yitzy, I missed you a great deal yesterday. You were with us, though not in tears. It was in laughter, as we recalled funny memories of you. The twinkle in those beautiful eyes. The warm grin encompassing all. The joy in Nature.     

Simply Yitzy. Always with us. 

Be warm and safe, sweet boy.  

Love you. Miss you.

Always and forever. Always and forever.