A Shabbat note
Shalom aleichem- שלום עליכם – Peace be upon you.
That's how a Shabbat dinner is preceded, with greetings of peace for all. Sung in unison by those who gather around a table over a feast, and turn their attention to a smaller world; an inward world.
I have found during the time of Coronavirus as the infestation of antisemitism has littered all sides of the terrain and I have become so activated in my determination to expose it, that Shabbat has been a moment in the week for resistance. As I welcome the heat of the Shabbat flames into my open palms and bring the promise of rest, renewal and fortification towards my face, I feel it an act of rebellion, a symbol that no matter the grievances of the world or the threats to any one of us, I will partake in this ancient tradition and I will break bread and I will drink wine and nothing will disrupt that feeling of gifting yourself a moment to feel a deep appreciation in yourself and your surroundings.
I am most moved by the instances of Jews observing these traditions in the harshest of circumstances, when to light candles is to alert an enemy. Tonight I will be thinking of the Jews who make kiddush under attack in Ukraine. I will think of the Ukranian Jews who are blessing their first challot in Israel after being granted their right of return and refuge when fleeing their Ukrainian homes. I will be thinking of Ukrainian President Volodymyr Zelensky who is with the Ukrainian troops on the frontlines, despite a bounty on his head. I will remember the Russian Jews who stood outside the Ukraine embassy in Tel Aviv yesterday and burned their Russian passports, and the Russians – Jewish or otherwise – at home who boldly took to the streets, risking their lives and freedom to protest their authoritarian leader as a show of solidarity with innocent Ukrainians. I will consider the evil in the world that never penetrates the eternal sense of self we each possess, and one that refuses to die. It refuses to surrender to intimidation and violence and warmongering. It relentlessly holds onto the separation of right from wrong, fair from unfair, love from hate.
It has been an overwhelming sensation watching a tyrannical invasion of a sovereign state unfold over the internet; images of young lovers clinging to each other, a video of a father desperately saying goodbye to the daughter he was packing onto a train to safety because he needed to stay behind and fight, footage of a Russian tank ceaselessly crushing a small car with an innocent civilian in it just because it could. These scenes are devastating. They make a person feel helpless, distraught, hopeless even. But the defiance of the Ukrainians has been a sight to behold. The civilians who have walked miles and miles to Poland through the night, the heavyweight boxing champions who have chosen to stay and go into battle, the 13 border guards who were killed at Snake Island but not before they were recorded telling an incoming Russian warship to “go fuck itself”, the video of the President on the streets of Kyiv vowing to defend Ukraine's independence and not run for cover, after previously telling EU leaders: "This might be the last time you see me alive". His grandfather fought the Nazis, and now his grandson is not just a living Jew but a Ukrainian patriot.
I hope that during Shabbat this week you can think on Zelensky and the people he defends. And you can think on Vladimir Putin; a mad megalomaniac whose evil has thwarted his vision and poisoned his heart with an obsessional hatred and a lust for incalculable power. And I hope you remember that wherever there is a Putin, there is a Zelensky, and it's the Zelenskys who keep us from despair.
His Hebrew name is Vladimir ben Rima. Pray for him.
What a visceral piece of writing and commentary. Every word a sword and a jewel. Thank you.
A beautiful tribute to a brave, brave person.