The three kidnapped teens

What really is there to say at such a painful time? My heart is broken along with all of yours.

I feel consumed with worry. I am holding my breath along with the anguish of the entire Jewish people.

All the Israeli friends I have spoken with are consumed. From “What more can Am Yisrael suffer?” to “Don’t worry, G-d is big.”

We are strong.

With the pain comes the inspiration. Being part of a people that does not need the normal logistics of weeks of planning, only a few hours, for thousands and thousands to gather at the Kotel to pray as one nation for three strangers. Strangers — yet now we are moved to tears, crying to Heaven over this.

This is what being a Jew is.

How proud and grateful I feel to be part of such a people.

Because the kidnapped are teens, practically boys (two are 16), their kidnapping is a violation of international law on the most serious level, and the pain is amplified. Teen angst is already so intense. Even more so for Israeli teens who have to grow up quicker than most Americans. But then to have to live through this!

Yet, all we keep seeing are inspirational clips of the boys’ peers praying or singing.

We see classes heading out to the local mall, creating posters that say, Five Minutes — Pray For Our Friends. And sure enough, random people from different walks of life strolling at the mall are now pausing with siddur in hand, murmuring Psalms.

In an evening at an illuminated, golden Western Wall, spontaneous prayer groups of Jews of all stripes join in song, “Acheinu,” “Our brothers.”

So many different verses from Tanach, the Hebrew Bible, have swirled through my mind this past week.

Verses such as when Hannah says, “I prayed for this very boy” (la-na’ar hazeh hitpalalti); when Joseph says, “It is my brothers whom I seek” (et achai ani mevakesh); when Jacob blesses, “the angel who redeems me from all evil . . . he shall bless the boys” (ha-malach ha-goel oti mi-kol ra . . . hu yevarech et ha-ne’arim); when Jeremiah says, “and the children shall return to their borders” (ve-shavu vanim li-gvulam); when last week’s Shabbat portion (Shelach) says, “because the Land is very, very good” (ki ha’aretz tovah me’od me’od).

Together, our prayers are pieces of hope and faith, a tapestry of all these verses and so many others, knocking at the doors of Heaven as we weep and pray that they are received by He Who Gathers in Mercy.

It’s hard to hear the unfair and outrageous criticism.

The attitude claiming these boys put themselves in harm’s way or that they had it coming.

Aside from how outrageous this is — as if terrorism in Israel needs people to put themselves in harm’s way before it happens — what about bus riders who have been blown up? hotel guests? cafegoers? The culprits here are the evil terrorists. Don’t blame the victim.

Is there room for a valuable discussion at some point about safer “tremping” — hitchhiking — about, perhaps, giving and catching rides only from within the gates of a village, versus the open, exposed road? Yes. But this really has nothing to do with what happened here with these boys.

Which is, when it comes down to it, we don’t really know. We have no clue how the whole horror began. For all we know the kids were at the hitchhiking stop and were forcefully grabbed and forced into a car.

The truth is, “hitchhiking” doesn’t accurately translate the Israeli societal norm of “tremping,” a part of their culture due to lack of adequate public transportation in many parts of the country and in the settlements.

A “tremp” is not like a lone hitchhiker, where someone might hit a highway in “nowheresville” and push their thumb forward for anyone to pick them up. It’s not like that. In Israel, there are specific junctions where hitchhiking takes place, where drivers in, say, a settlement the community knows to stop and ask whether anyone needs a ride. It is known that at these hitchhiking stops groups of people are looking for rides. It’s a part of the culture. In settlements it’s people from the settlement giving each other rides.

But, really. What does it matter?

They were kidnapped. Now is the time to unite and increase kindness, holiness and prayer for Eyal, Gil-Ad and Naftali — children, civilians, simply on their way home from school for Shabbat.

We pray their fate will be different from the difficult and hard reminder of an anniversary from this past Monday eve, 18 Sivan, when Zvi, Yehuda and Zecharia went missing during the Sultan Ya’akov Battle of 1984.

It’s hard to see the sick, bloodthirsty, anti-Semitic cartoons coming from the PA, Hamas and Company. They could be straight from Der Sturmer. The dehumanizing hate is so real. Many of you have seen the same images I have — the fished rats, the soccer logo, the party campaign of cakes, the children’s joyous triple-finger salute.

It is extremely hard to see all the graphics, stickers and signs of flags with the boys etched on them, so official — the “again-ness” of it hitting you in the gut, as you think of Ehud Goldwasser, Eldad Regev and Gilad Shalit.

But instead of being gripped with fear, revenge or paralysis, our nation has mobilized with love and compassion. With increased holiness and kindness. The Knesset didn’t start its day business as usual, but united in a prayer service led by Yuli Edelstein.

When the Chief of Staff of the IDF, Lt. Benny Gantz, met with our beloved soldiers, his message was:

“How do I want us to proceed? As though each of the boys is a member of our family. As though each of the boys is a member of our team, our company, our batallion.

“Remember also that in the area you are searching, most of these people are innocent. Most of the people here are not even related to this event . . . so act accordingly when you walk through the villages. We are not just fighters. We are human beings first.”

Through the rivers of pain, there are these moments, profound reminders, of who we are as a people. You can’t help but feel proud and inspired.

Ironically and breathtakingly, more than anyone it has actually been the parents of the boys themselves who are inspiring. Though they are wounded to the core, it is they, in a reversal of what would naturally be expected, coming out to us, with astonishing poise and composure, strengthening us, the Jewish people.

The feeling this week is like an entire people is captive. We really truly are a family.

We pray for the immediate, safe and whole return of Naftali ben Rachel Devora, Eyal bat Teshura, and Gil-Ad Bat Galim, and all the soldiers who are involved in searching and rescuing them.

Copyright © 2014 by the Intermountain Jewish News