There are things we can do for ourselves, our community and our family in Israel

One year. As I write this, it seems we are headed for 365 days of war, and beyond.   

Sometimes it feels like this war has stretched on for a decade. At other moments, it feels like just yesterday that we woke up to the shock and horrors of Oct. 7. As we mark a year into this horrible war, it is hard to find any reason for hope. With the unfathomable death toll of that dark day, 101 Israeli hostages still being held in Gaza, Israel Defense Forces soldiers dying every week, and Palestinian civilians in a humanitarian crisis, how can we?   

I am writing this from Israel, my third trip here since Oct. 7. In December, I landed in a country still reeling and trying to grapple with the magnitude of trauma from the disaster and ensuing war. In March, I met Israelis beginning to vocalize their anger and the betrayal they feel towards the government and lack of support around the world. On this trip, I landed in Israel on the day that they received the news of the murder of six hostages at the hands of Hamas.  

Everyone struggled with the knowledge that these people had survived nearly a year in captivity, only to be permanently taken from their loved ones in an instant. My group attended the funeral of Carmel Gat, who was kidnapped from Kibbutz Be’eri on Oct. 7. We heard stories of how she practiced meditation and breathing with the other hostages, and selflessly cared for them during their captivity. Carmel’s friends and family implored everyone to continue to take to the streets to demand an immediate deal and the return of the hostages.   

Amid all of this grief and trauma, Israelis still somehow have the space to worry about us in the diaspora. They worry about how we are dealing with the rise in antisemitism and violence against Jews. Many of us outside of Israel feel helpless and desperate to help in any way we can. The reality is that nothing we can do will change the facts on the ground. As much as this war hits us deep in our hearts and souls, there is no tangible action that we can take to end the war or change the geopolitical situation in the Middle East.   

Maybe since we have entered the month of Elul, I have been inspired by the season of introspection.  Despite our obvious and frustrating limitations, I do believe that there are things we can do for ourselves, our community and our family in Israel. First, come to Israel if you can.  Yes, there is a war, and yes, it can be scary, but in the way that only Israelis can do it, life here moves on. Assistance is still desperately needed in agriculture, communities and across the country. I have accompanied several delegations of volunteers since December, and beyond the work and time contributed, your physical presence is what is most appreciated by Israelis now. It is a reminder that they are not alone, and that Jews around the world will rally and stand by one another even in the darkest of times.    

If traveling is not an option for you, then please find an Israel-based or Israel-supporting charity that resonates with your values and donate.  The economy here is struggling, and with no end to this war in sight, the struggle will only worsen.  Find an organization, business, or movement to support and know that any assistance is needed and appreciated these days.   

I recognize the reflex to try to function as a spokesperson or advocate on behalf of Israel. Instead, I challenge you to look more deeply inward. Stay up to date on the current events of the war through one of the many Israeli news websites in English. Learn about the protest movements and the cracks in Israeli society that this war has deepened. Take a deep dive into the complexities and tensions within Israeli society. Do all of these things so that you can speak knowledgeably on your own behalf. The best service you can do for Israel is to create an authentic and ever-evolving relationship with the nation and its people. Fight against the prevailing tropes of David and Goliath, us vs. them.  Become the nuance you would wish to see in the public discourse.   

The greatest gift that Israel has given me is teaching me how to think about multi-layered, deep and enduring dilemmas. How to reconcile harsh reality and idealism. How to hold many different and often contradictory truths all at once. And most importantly, how to never stay complacent or static in my relationship with this beautiful and complex nation that I am so lucky to be a part of.  

The next year will surely bring more adversity and grief. The best gift that we can give ourselves and to our brothers and sisters in Israel is that of a true family. To show unconditional love, strive to always be a light unto the nations and to never shy away from the fight to make Israel the truest embodiment of Jewish values and peoplehood.   

I am going to let Israeli poet and author Yehuda Amichai have the last word. I have returned to this poem regularly since that horrific day in October. Amichai’s words have become a light and give me some way to move forward during these dark and uncertain times.    

From the place where we are right 
flowers will never grow 
in the spring. 

The place where we are right 
is hard and trampled 
like a yard. 

But doubts and loves 
dig up the world 
like a mole, a plow. 
And a whisper will be heard in the place 
where the ruined 
house once stood. 

* * *

Rachel Adams is a Glendale native, who served for two years in an Israel Defense Forces foreign relations branch. She has worked with Taglit-Birthright Israel groups and as a national shlicha (emissary) with Australasian Union of Jewish Students. The University of Wisconsin-Madison graduate is the associate director of travel and tours at Jewish National Fund-USA and lives in Brooklyn, New York.