With the recently signed ceasefire tempering hostilities between Israel and Hamas, I decided to share some thoughts this week about organizations and experiences in Israel that helped broaden my perspective about Israeli society, its relationship to its neighbors, and hopes for the future.

As Americans prepare for Memorial Day weekend, I cannot help but look with envy toward Israel, who celebrates Yom HaZikaron—Memorial Day—in the spring, one day prior to Yom Ha’atzmaut—Israeli Independence Day.

In a country where everyone knows the pain of losing a loved one, a friend, or a neighbor, the entire nation (with some notable exceptions) mourns on Yom HaZikaron, giving the day an almost palpable feeling of loss. From the countless memorial ceremonies at local schools (to honor those graduates who died in service), to planned visits to cemeteries for family and friends, to a siren that brings the entire country to a halt, Yom HaZikaron brings inescapable solemnity.

And yet, the pervasive sense of loss is buttressed by hope. As Yom HaZikaron gives way to Yom Ha’Atzmaut, grief gives way to celebration, almost suggesting that those lost in conflict were not lost in vain.

Whenever I commemorate Yom HaZikaron in Israel, I marvel at the power of its pervasiveness and its narrative. By comparison, Memorial Day in the United States can easily feel hollow. Though many gather at veterans’ cemeteries to visit the graves of loved ones, or simply in honor of those who served, such acts often seem more like the exception than the rule. And it makes sense. The size of our Armed Forces, though significant, remains paltry when compared to the overall American population. And American wars, often fought on distant battlefields, can easily—and often, justifiably—foster a sense of ambivalence.

Still, it feels like we could benefit from finding a way to spend Memorial Day considering the stories and sacrifices of those who gave their lives in service, and in so doing, learn more about the breadth of our country’s citizenship, the motivations behind those who defend it, and the harrowing cost of war.
In that light, I have included the eulogy of my classmate, First Lieutenant David Bernstein (z”l), one of the first casualties of Operation Iraqi Freedom (click here to read), as well as a prayer for those who died in defense of our nation. Zichronam Livracha, may all their memories remain a blessing to us all.
— Rabbi Josh Knobel