The one movie that sums it all up…..

13 Aug

Not for the faint-hearted, this short movie reveals the breadth and depth of the violent teachings of Islam. Let no one say they didn’t realise. Islam is not a religion of peace, it is a religion of violent domination.

I feel in my heart that we are going into an era of darkness and it’s up to us to wake up and go back to God, the Real God, the God of Love, Truth and Peace, before it’s too late.


oneness is a breath away

27 Jul

I listen to this song and my heart aches. These are indeed bitter times, of heartache, of anger, of fear, of confusion and, most of all, of hate.

I will not use my blog as a political platform. The more we are stuck into being right, the further we find ourselves from God’s path. Evil is there, for all to see but where are we? Where is our connection to our father?

God, I have never needed you as I do now. I know you are One and you are the Father of all of the nations of the world. Shine your face upon us and show us the way. Don’t let our souls become sullied by the filth of this world and by the rivers of blood around us. We can only remain pure if our hearts are with you. Please, don’t abandon us.

a normal day that isn’t

1 Jul

I had set my alarm for the early hour of 6 this morning yet  found myself awake earlier. I drifted off restlessly and awoke again, with an uneasy feeling in my gut. Then, as the morning fog lifted I remembered, it had happened.

I got myself ready but somehow everything took a little longer, and required more effort. It was supposedly vacation time, why was I dragging myself off to some course in Ramat Gan? I checked into facebook; the updates were on the same theme, and with each picture, with each newsclip and each update my heart sank further and further. How was I get through this day? How would any of us get through this day?

As I walked through the quiet streets of Jerusalem, I noticed that the beastly hamsin of the previous day had finally lifted. Cars were covered with a film of dew; I was reminded of the tears of three mothers.

I took a ride with three women who I didn’t really know. We were all teachers and we chatted about this and that, professional issues really; the system, the schools where we taught and a bit of Jewish teacher/ Jerusalem geography. Our journey was smooth enough for us to find a quick coffee before the course began. As we sat in the neighboring coffee shop someone touched on the subject, that subject and we all simultaneously stared into our coffee cups. ‘Let’s talk about anything but that,’ one of us said.

Yes, I was involved in the course and the lectures but every now and then it touched me; a shadow looming. I checked into my facebook account again mid-morning. I saw a picture of the three fresh graves. So they were to be buried in Modiin. Alongside one another. Other newsfeeds came up but I wondered how much I really wanted to know; the forensics, the delayed response of the police and military, the families….

There was a young woman wearing burka on my course.  When I spoke to her, I felt as if I was speaking to a fellow Anglo; her English is impeccable. She probably lived in Australia or something like that. Yet her appearance bothered me.

Yet half of me wants to ask her ‘What do you have to say about all this?’

We are given an activity to do in pairs. She sits alone. I wonder if it is just coincidence that a woman who wears her religion so proudly hasn’t found a partner within our Jewish group.

The day somehow passed. The funeral had been called for 5. My jaw was hurting; I only get TMJ when I’m stressed, or when I’m sad. We left the course at four and I thought of the mothers, the fathers and the funerals that would be undoubtedly packed beyond belief. I wished I was there and wished that I wasn’t.

We drove back and chatted companionably. The news came on. I heard the voices of siblings, mothers, fathers, rabbis. I cried. I think we all did. Which mother wouldn’t? We were stuck in traffic crawling into Jerusalem. There had been a demonstration at the entrance of the city. An hour had passed, we heard the news again. This time they featured a recording of the boys final distraught call to the police. “Turn it off, I can’t bear it!” I begged. I don’t want to bury my head in the sand. Yet I can’t face this pain head-on. I don’t want to think about it but I can’t think of anything else.

I arrived home. My daughter was angry with me that I had been out all day. I apologized but felt numb inside. Every now and then these crazy thoughts come to me ‘What do the mothers think when they see the beds their sons once slept it? The friends they learned with? When every little thing is a reminder of their loss?’

I think of hatred. I think of cruelty. I think of men in masks. Executions.  Syria, Gaza, women in black, flag burnings, suicide belts….I can’t figure out what I should be thinking of; crying mothers or crazy jihadists.

My older daughter has decided she isn’t sad, she’s angry. My husband is trying to find out what God thinks about all this. My eleven year old hasn’t yet come to grips with intense philosophical questions of why innocent boys have to die on their way home from school.

And me? I’m just utterly lost. I don’t understand; or maybe I don’t want to understand. I just want to sob my heart out.

It is a cool evening and I hear the signs of quiet Jerusalem life outside. Everything is somehow subdued, or is it just me? I missed the funeral on TV. The pictures on facebook were enough.

There’s a stillness in the air, the breeze is a semi-comfort. I feel as if we are on the last leg of a long painful journey. Massacres and murders aren’t new to us. Hope and despair are old friends of ours.

God, we are tired, so tired. Bring us home, please.

Our Three Lost Boys

17 Jun

My heart is breaking and my head is heavy. I feel like I could shatter into a thousand pieces at any second. I feel like the entire am is howling like a wounded animal; in shock, in disbelief, in hope and in despair.

Our sons have been snatched from us. Three innocent boys, on the cusp of adulthood; looking forward to a summer of lazy days at the pool or on the beach, with their families, with their friends were snatched. Snatched in a twisted cynical game of power. 

Overnight, the nation has stood up reunited against its vicious enemy; the enemy of evil and we have momentarily forgotten our differences; a child is a child, kippa or no kippah, settlement or no settlment and a Jewish child is our child. We have cried together and prayed together and we have renewed our determination to fight together because, with all of our differences we agree that ‘יש גבול’- there is a limit.

I cannot help but wonder whether through our lack of conviction and our refusal to understand God’s role in all of this has caused us to be weak, to cut deals rather than holding fast. Our politicians focus on short-term successes and  we are still paying the heavy price for the disasters of our abandonment of Gaza and the Schalit deal. We have shown our enemies that we are weak, that we fear too much and trust in God too little and our enemies thereby gain a foothold. Their foothold allowed them to pierce the heart of the am.

I pray to God to continue to strengthen us, and to give strength to those who cry out to Him in the darkness of their fears. I pray that God should lead the way to the geula and that we should not need grief and pain to connect with him, our hands clasped in unity.

I pray we should find our lost children and they should return home unharmed.The pain of mothers and fathers over their lost children pales in comparison to God’s pain when his nation turns away from Him, in the blind belief that they can manage things on their own.




The Aftermath

7 May

beautifully written, food for thought indeed….

Is religion a mental illness?

26 Apr

ignore the title of the blog…I’m not an evolutionist but I am interested in the idea that religious fundamentalism is a distorted way of thinking tantamount to mental illness.

Why Evolution Is True

Several readers have sent me this link, but I have to say I’m not that convinced that the views expressed in this news item have any substantive content, or will catch on in society.

The piece, “Leading neuroscientist: Religious fundamentalism may be a ‘mental illness’ that can be ‘cured’” (note the scare quotes), is from The Raw Story, and refers to a talk at the Hay Literary festival by Kathleen Taylor a neurobiologist at Oxford University who studies the psychology and neuroscience of  belief. This is the part that got all the attention (my emphasis):

During a talk at the Hay Literary Festival in Wales on Wednesday, Kathleen Taylor was asked what positive developments she anticipated in neuroscience in the next 60 years.

“One of the surprises may be to see people with certain beliefs as people who can be treated,” she explained, according to The Times

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Egypt Inside (with thanks to Alden Solovy)

13 Apr

Egypt Inside (with thanks to Alden Solovy)

Egypt Inside
This I confess to myself:
I have taken Egypt with me.
I’ve kept myself a slave to grief and loss,
Fear and anger and shame.
I have set myself up as task master,
Driving my own work beyond the limits
Of reasonable time and common sense.
I’ve seen miracles from heaven,
Signs and wonders in my own life,
And still wait for the heavens to speak.

G-d of redemption,
With Your loving and guiding hand leaving Egypt is easy.
Leaving Egypt behind is a struggle.
In Your wisdom You have given me this choice:
To live in a tyranny of my own making,
Or to set my heart free to love You,
To love Your people,
And to love myself.

G-d of Freedom, help me to leave Egypt behind,
To hear Your voice,
To accept Your guidance,
And to see the miracles in each new day.

Blessed are You, G-d of wonder,
You set Your people on the road to redemption.

© 2010 Alden Solovy and All rights reserved.