We have just finished celebrating the Feast of Tabernacles and it was a really special holiday. For weeks leading up to the holiday, we were all wondering, debating, discussing, how would we celebrate the holiday, especially as it marks the one year anniversary of the terrible massacre of October 7th last year.
In 1927, a group of pious Jews from Yemen and Jerusalem sought to restore the Judean hills, which had lain barren and in ruins for almost 2,000 years.
In this year of unprecedented hardship, the People of Israel were inundated by a tidal wave of hatred and cruelty that upended our lives and shook us to our core. You, our Christian friends, stood beside us as beacons of hope, and your unwavering support has been a source of immense comfort and strength.
Last week, we learned that thousands of Hezbollah terrorists were surprised by the sudden explosion of their pagers. Knowing that Israel is able to track the location of its enemies via their cellphones, some time ago, Hezbollah warned all of its terrorists to stop using cellphones. But they needed some system for communication. Enter the pagers.
During the Feast of Tabernacles in 1977, an idealistic couple heading to visit the pioneering community of Kedumim suddenly found themselves taking on a new mission.
We are actually living a life that requires us to balance two different tasks at the same time. One is just living an ordinary life. The other is dealing with a terrible war, with threats that we never thought we would have to face, with growing criticism of our country from even our strongest allies.
Around 1700 years ago, a group of devout Jews settled the southern edges of Judea in the Hebron Hills. Their hearts were directed towards Jerusalem, the eternal site of the Shechinah (The Divine Presence) where the Temple once stood in all its Divine glory.
I was exposed, close up, to the ugly side of this war, as it is also manifesting itself in the USA.
On October 7th, there were four graves in the military cemetery. There are now 10 and tractors are busily at work to expand the cemetery.
The small community of Gitit, located in the western part of the Jordan Valley and comprising just 110 families, was suddenly left with a gaping hole when 70 of its men were called up for reserve duty.
