100 days ....
Yesterday, on the 100th day of the war, the 100th day that 130+ hostages have been held in a hell we cannot begin to imagine, there were ceremonies around Israel — to remember the children, women and men, to read out their names, one by one, and to support their families, who are living a reality we cannot imagine.
All around this nation, a battered people slowly realizing that we’re very unlikely to meet either of the goals we set for this war — destroying Hamas and getting all the captives back alive, took a day to pause, to remember, to embrace and to pray.
We’d planned something else for today’s post, but we’re delaying it. Instead, just a brief clip of the ceremony in Jerusalem, at the Haas Promenade, overlooking the Old City, which you can see lit up in the background.
I found the ceremony unbearably painful. It was hard to breathe, much less speak. So we’re sharing that brief clip without writing anything about it. It speaks for itself.
There are three portions to the brief video, which are the concluding moments of the ceremony.
First, a song by Israel’s iconic musician, Idan Reichel, called “Waiting.”
The the sounding of the shofar, which, tradition says, opens up the heavens to prayer.
And then, Hatikvah.
The words to the Idan Reichel song reads as follows (you can watch him performing it, in Hebrew obviously, here):
יום אחד זה יקרה בלי שנרגיש, משהו ישתנה משהו ירגע בנו, משהו יגע בנו ולא יהיה ממה לחשוש. וזה יבוא כמו קו חרוט על כף יד זה יבוא בטוח בעצמו כאילו היה שם תמיד וחיכה שנבחין בו וזה יבוא, אתה תראה הידיים הקפוצות יתארכו והלב השומר לא להיפגע יפעם בקצב רגיל זה יבוא, כמו שהטבע רגיל להיות שלם עם עצמו יום אחד זה יקרה בלי שנרגיש, משהו ישתנה משהו יגע בנו, משהו ירגע בנו ולא יהיה ממה לחשוש וזה יבוא כמו קו חרוט על כף יד זה יבוא בטוח בעצמו כאילו היה שם תמיד וחיכה שנבחין בו וזה יבוא, אתה תראה... וזה יבוא, אתה הרי יודע לא הכל יטלטל אותנו לא הכל יכה ומה שייפתח לנו מחכה
One day it will happen without us feeling it, something will change Something will relax in us, something will touch us And there will be nothing to fear. And it will come like line engraved on the palm of your hand It will come, sure of itself as if it had always been there and waited for us to notice And it will come, you will see Clenched hands will lengthen And the heart struggling not to be hurt will beat at a normal rate It will come, as nature is wont to do to be whole with itself One day it will happen Without us feeling it, something will change Something will touch us, something will relax in us And there will be nothing to fear And it will come like line engraved on the palm of your hand It will come for sure as if it had always been there and waited for us to notice And it will come, you'll see... And it will come, you know Not everything will make us tremble Not everything will strike us And what will open up for us is waiting
"Our hope is not yet lost, That hope, two thousand years old, To be a free people in our land The land of Zion and Jerusalem"
Since Reichel’s song is as much a prayer as it is a song, as is Hatikvah — to both, Amen.



Heartbreakingly painful watching this from my apartment in Phnom Penh. I was unable to catch my breath as my sobs flowed unceasingly as I sang Hatikvah. עם ישראל חי
through all of the pain there's gratitude for you, danny (and the others, dan senor, the folks at times of israel, mishy harmon, etc). אין גבול בננו while i'm here (in baltimore) and my heart is there. i don't know how i'd function without your stories, interviews, and insights. המון תודה