HABAYTA

  Home. A place where one is always welcomed, looked after. A place of love and cherished memories. Of some more painful but shared with so many others. A place where one is recognized as a member of the family even if one was a stranger a mere second ago. A place where, no matter what your cousin looks like, or language spoken, or some invisible lines distinguishing levels of observance and classification - no matter what - the home is shared, with yes, family squabbles, some large and consequential and others small, usual family nitpicking, but always, Habayta. Always Home. 

The people of the world have long misunderstood the importance of that word. Of the historical and emotional identifying baggage that's tied to it. So closely that it is impossible to separate. No matter how many voices are raised against it in enmity, in confusion, in vile hatred. No matter.

That family of Jews along with those who truly understand and internalize history, who venerate the Bible and the truth of the words within, who have seen its words come alive in modern times, that is the family who knows the essence, the importance and the Truth of its words and its meaning to humanity.  All of humanity. There is reference to the nations of the world, to the 70 nations of the world and the importance of their inclusion at least into the Noahide laws of society and civilization. 

All are welcome to share in the goodness and celebration of a world finally making or taking the proper turns and decisions in life and avoiding traps and pitfalls awaiting those who deny the very evident truths of life. Who hear the promises of the Lord yet refuse to acknowledge them.

These are the people who's very being seemingly is made of bones and veins and arteries and sinews are soaked in vile stinking juices whose reek permeates the air and does not allow for the freshness of Truth to penetrate. The concept of home as only a person of Jewish descent can understand, can carry within one's very being, can feel within one's heart, is apparently doomed to a forever hostile world, to face off against them. To deny their Home. Their Habayta.

 Even if it takes a long time to get there and has been denied over the millennia. Even if the cost has been and continues to be of most unimaginable depths and heights at one and the same time, that Home is always first and foremost in our hearts, our minds, our very souls. 

Throughout history nations have been denied the place they called their birthplace, but it has not been consistent nor permanent and homes have been returned, retrieved and retaken time and time again. But never has one people been consistently denied the truth of their homeland for all of history. For all of time. From the time of Abraham who had to pay to buy his own land back so that he could bury his wife. To Jewish residents of lands where they were denied a place there and in fact, a  place anywhere on this earth. 

From cutting words to inciting words. Words of true violence to acts of violence, along with demands for official recognition and approval of the morphing of words and thoughts into acts and deeds of such horror that one could not understand how one man can do such things to another. And yet it's continued. Sometimes abating a bit and at other times growing so loud, so overpowering, to a pitch of unimaginable terror, urged deeds of violence beyond any comprehension.  

Once again we are denied the right to be a nation within our homeland. The land which had been promised by G-d Himself. A promise cemented by covenants. By history itself. By the words of the Prophets and the truth of their words, of what would and could be. The promise of goodness and the words of punishment for straying, for disregarding all that had been commanded upon us by the Lord Himself.

The Jews were to be the nation of perhaps the examples of what could happen, of good and bad, if one were to turn away from that we had done so improperly before. Now to choose the right. To turn away from that which was wrong. To accept and live the knowledge that there was an eternal bond between the Creator and His Creations.  

After the centuries of unbelievable bloodshed and the unimaginable, yet so very real terrors of the Shoah, we thought perhaps we were to be allowed to return to our forever home. To have that promised ingathering from the four directions of the world. North to South and East to West.  To rebuild our homeland. To rejuvenate it. To become in deed. In fact. The Land of Milk and Honey. To reclaim it from the desert it had become, from the miasmas of the swamps, and become a vibrant productive member of the nations of the world.  

From the time its most recent reinvigoration as a nation the people of Israel have been fighting,  to ensure its permanence, to serve not merely or only as a home for those within its borders, but always to those without. To those who remain scattered among the more or less hostile nations and peoples of the world. 

Sadly, we faced the truth that for some reason, for no reason at all, the idea of a legitimate functioning actuality of a homeland for the Jews was anathema to be fought. To create long term plans and conspiracies and plots to bring it down. Over and over again.

But this time around, there was a different situation. Perhaps because we Jews were tired, oh so tired in body and soul of the consistent fighting merely to survive, that, no, this time there would be no backing down. This time the mantra was 'we are going to win as we must. This is our land to be shared with others who wish to live in peace and harmony. Always to know that this was to be the rejuvenation of a permanent Jewish homeland. The home of all the Jewish peoples we had rescued from those four corners of the world, the living life of a long ago Promise.' 

We will always win. We knew we had to win. This time there was no other place for us to go. We have no other land no matter what we're temporarily allowed, as a welcoming place. It never remained remain so.

And for so many of us the shock of this virulent, antisemitism, this JewHatred has been a literal shot to the heart. It was made even more clear to us that even when we were clearly the victims of a barbaric attack waged upon innocents, upon people dancing, upon people celebrating the holiday, taking a walk, playing with their children, we were to be denied even that 'status' and were declared to be the aggressors.

 Why? Because we knew we had no other choice and we had to fight hard to impress that point upon those who wish to see us dead, who indeed saw us dead on October 7th and ongoing. No matter how many 'ceasefires' for that hatred never died. Those bullets never ceased to be fired. Those missiles perpetually fell from the skies.

 But now we're home. Our place of refuge was being challenged to its very last breath.

And when 1000 musicians got together in an ancient arena and played the songs, the tune, the words of the forever plea, request, demand of the Jewish people to be home, to be Habayta for once and for always it indeed carried two pleas. 

 One was the plea for the return of the hostages so brutally imprisoned, beaten, raped and tortured, for a return, their return, after such a long time, to their HOME.

But as we watchED with tears in our eyes and as we heard and revoiced and replayed this national anthem there was another Habayta that we were pleading for. To have that Habayta we had been promised so long ago but never been fully given as promised. It was way overdue. Way past time. 

And so, we sang these words, we used our instruments to convey these thoughts, this pleading, and we looked not down to the devil, not in dirge, but in words of determination, of challenge and yes, pleading, as we raised our heads, our eyes, our faces, our hands to the Heavens Above where the ultimate Homeowner resides.      

Always

Yesterday.

Today.

Tomorrow.

Always and forever.

HABAYTA.