Evidence of the Biblical Calendar

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Apr 19, 2018, 3:02 PM – Becca Biderman posted in In search of His ancient and true path …from cover to cover.

By Ari Fuld:

“
48 hours ago, I stood frozen as the siren wailed and I was thrown back into a nightmare from 25 years ago when I buried my friend and platoon mate, Yehoshua Friedberg. Every year I am concerned that I will not be able to make the transition between the memories and pain of Memorial Day to the celebration of Israel’s Independence. How can we celebrate when 23,646 families are still mourning their sons and daughters? How can we celebrate when we barely wiped away the tears of sadness? Why and how does Israel expect people to transition from mourning to celebration when the clock strikes 8:00pm?
Last night, I was asked to sound another alarm as we held a special Teffilah (prayer) for the opening of Yom Haatzmaut ( Israel Independence Day celebrations). I was asked to sound the shofar.
Like the siren of yesterday, the shofar was sounded in biblical times as a call to war. The shofar was also sounded to gather the nation and the trumpets were sounded at the times of celebration as well at times of self-introspection.
As I took a deep breath, I felt a strong pinch of mixed emotion. On the one hand, the deep sorrow and the loss of yesterday and on the other hand the realization that here I am, in Israel, standing in a shul in Judea! The shul is filled with children, parents, grandparents and even some great-grandparents. A shul filled with 3 generations of Jews is something that would not have been possible just one generation back. Then to imagine 3 generations of Jews coming together to say Thank You to God for bringing us back to the land of Israel?! But the pain and the memories and the fact that Yehoshua and 23,646 others are not here to celebrate….. My lungs are now full and as I hold my breath for a couple of seconds as I contemplate, everything.
As I begin to exhale, the shofar sounds and at first it hurts as it has the same sound as the siren. After a couple of seconds, I realize this sound is different. It’s a beautiful sound. It’s not a sound produced by a computer but one that comes from our breath. It’s the result of our efforts and of course God’s countenance. The pain of yesterday does not get easier nor is it forgotten, but the shofar is a call for realization.
We are home! We are living the prayers and fantasy of our past generations. Two thousand years of Jews prayed, cried and bled the dream to return to Eretz Yisrael (Land of Israel). The return to Zion is no longer only in our prayers. We are living the prophecies of our religion. What was once a biblical dream has become a reality.
Yesterday, the longer the siren sounded, the deeper the pain became. Today, the longer the shofar sounds the feelings of sadness and pain turns into feelings of celebration. The pain of what we lost is softened ( but never forgotten) with the appreciation of what we have and what we gained.
23,646 faces are looking down at us and smiling. We miss them all dearly but they are all celebrating with us. We don’t remember them because they died, we celebrate them because of what they lived for.
it’s not about a transition from sadness to happiness.
It’s about understanding just how fortunate we are and their sacrifice commands us to appreciate and never take this country for granted.
Not to celebrate would be to dishonor their memory. The transition is almost there, but I need a little more time and I try to keep the shofar blast loud for just a little while longer and then it hits me and I tell myself, ‘SAVE YOUR BREATH!
You need your breath to sing and dance. You need breath to walk this land and you need to wave that flag and you need to thank God as well as those who gave their life so that we can celebrate.
Finish the shofar blast strong and start the celebrations!” With air still left in my lungs, I pull the shofar away and we start to sing, NEXT YEAR IN FULLY BUILT JERUSALEM. The same song we, the Jewish people, have sung for two thousand years, but now it has a different tune.
While our ancestors sang these words, it was a prayer whispered with tears of sadness and the realization that Returning to Zion is nowhere near being a reality. We now sing this song with joy with the realization that we are back and well on our way! התחלא דגאולה (the beginning of redemption)
So transition and celebrate! 23,646 of our heroes are looking down and commanding us to celebrate!

Happy Israel Independence Day חג שמח! Yom Haatzmaut Sameyach! 🇮🇱 🎊 “Updated Apr 20, 2018, 7:02 AM

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Apr 19, 2018, 1:22 PM – Becca Biderman shared a link to the group: In search of His ancient and true path …from cover to cover.

https://www.timesofisrael.com/gaza-protests-to-move-closer-to-border-with-israel/The encampments set up in the Gaza Strip as part of the so-called March of Return protest will be moved 50 meters closer to the border with Israel, the organizers of the mass demonstrations announced on Wednesday.

The decision also came in the context of the Palestinians’ effort to thwart US President Donald Trump’s yet-to-be-announced peace plan and end the Israeli blockade on the Gaza Strip. (Israel says it maintains the blockade to prevent Gaza’s terrorist ruler Hamas, which seeks to destroy it, from importing weaponry.)

https://www.timesofisrael.com/gaza-protests-to-move-closer-to-border-with-israel/Updated Apr 19, 2018, 1:22 PM

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Apr 19, 2018, 1:13 PM – Becca Biderman shared a link to the group: In search of His ancient and true path …from cover to cover.

http://www.newsweek.com/earthquake-rattles-irans-only-nuclear-power-plant-892287?piano_t=1We saw a tremendous sandstorm in Iran on the day that Iran declared they had chosen the date for the destruction of Israel. Now on their military celebration day comes this, also this is the day that many believed Iran would strike Israel:

Civilians without explanation are being evacuated from the Bushehr area where Iran has very important nuclear facilities.
This follows a very strong earthquake (5.5) that hit the same area, hours ago.

There’s a pretty good video of the quake in the news link http://www.newsweek.com/earthquake-rattles-irans-only-nuclear-power-plant-892287?piano_t=1Updated Apr 19, 2018, 1:13 PM

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Apr 19, 2018, 12:58 PM – Becca Biderman posted in In search of His ancient and true path …from cover to cover.

For a change, a feel-good story:

Galia Joe Berry

Joe Berry here. I would like to tell you a little about the story of my birth, which is especially appropriate after Yom HaZikaron L’shoa and now that we’re celebrating the 70th birthday of medinat Yisrael thanks to the sacrifice of so many soldiers and pioneers and HaShem’s blessing.
I was born in Germany after the War. My mother and my grandmother had assumed false identities and were able to live in Berlin throughout the war. They were considered “aliens” since my grandmother came from Russia to Germany after WWI to marry my grandfather, but my mother and grandmother were not known as Jews. Every moment they lived in fear that they would be caught, and their true Jewish identities revealed. Even though they did not suffer in concentration and death camps like other Jews, they experienced much physical and emotional abuse when they were taken as “foreign laborers” to work within Germany. My mother was sent as slave labor to a farm where she was with other “alien” teenagers. Unfortunately the other teenaged forced laborers were Polish boys who, even though they shared similar circumstances with my mother for not being German, nevertheless were cruel to her in ways I will not share here.
My grandmother was forced to plant trees in the dead of winter, a senseless task and impossible digging in the frozen ground, and she suffered from pain in her chest her entire life due to the frostbite she suffered then.
My grandfather had been murdered in 1934 just as the Nazis were coming to power. He was a painter, and he painted a neighbor’s house who had recently joined the then-new Nazi party. When my grandfather asked for payment, the Nazi laughed and went straight to the police, telling them that my grandfather had stolen from him which was a complete lie. When he realized he was a wanted man, my grandfather fled illegally across the border, thinking it was temporary until things cooled down.
One day my grandmother got a knock on the door. It was the police, and they held my grandfather’s picture in their hands. They asked her if she knew this man. What should she do? If my grandmother said she knew him, they might arrest her as well, or take away my mother, who was a young girl. If she said no, she might not find out what happened to him. It was a terrible choice. She decided to say she didn’t know him, and in fact she was an agunah for most of the rest of her life until decades later when she found out he had been shot while trying to cross back illegally into Germany at the border to return home.
My father was the only survivor of his very large family (it seems they were Belz chassidim). Ironically my father was also the only one who was not shomer mitzvot. He ran to the forest to become a partisan, and fought during the entire war, escaping death through many miracles, many times. He had begged his family to escape to the forest from the ghetto, but they refused. He lived with survivor’s guilt, however, and many nightmares. My childhood in America, where we came when I was six, was not easy. There was tension in the house due to my parents’ experiences during the War and how it affected them and their relationship to their 3 sons, of which I’m the b’chor.
My parents met after the war in Germany and started a new life there. I don’t know if it’s true, but my mother told me I was the first Jewish baby to be born in the newly rededicated and restored Jewish hospital in Berlin. There were terrible shortages and hunger after the war, and the only way to survive was to be active in the black market. Since there was so little food, there was no expectation of a seudat brit milah. Usually the only thing that was given to guests at a brit was shnapps and cigarettes, both highly prized and very expensive on the black market. I was born on Shabbat, and my father was very excited about this because it meant he would only have to give out shnapps and not have to supply cigarettes for the brit milah, since smoking is forbidden on Shabbat.
Amazingly, a week after I was born, my brit milah was on medinat Israel’s first birthday – when Israel became a State and the very first Yom Haatzma’ut was celebrated. It really was an incredible miracle – – a new life after so much destruction and loss, and now a new homeland for the Jews.
I feel very privileged to be able to celebrate my 70th birthday and Yom Haatzmaut in our Holy Land, and very blessed that as I celebrate the remaining 50 years of my life, I will do so in my home in Israel, where we now reside permanently in the Galil, having come from the US a year ago. I feel it closes a very large and complicated circle.
The thought of turning 70 is something I did not want to think about: it means I’m old! But truthfully I am so very grateful for the brachot which HaShem has given me, for my children and grandchildren, my friends, my marriage, my life in Israel, and my work. For both my wife and myself, we never grew up with a grandfather, and our fathers died when we were teenagers. The fact that my children are adults and we just celebrated the birth of our 17th grandchild this week, is truly a miracle. I can only say ‘hodu lashem ki tov, ki l’olam chasdo” and Baruch Atah HaShem, Elokaynu Melech HaOlam, Shehechiyanu, Vkiyamanu, vhigiyanu lazman hazeh.
Happy Birthday, Israel!
L’chaim!Updated Apr 21, 2018, 3:44 AM