Wednesday, October 28th, 2009
“And Rachel… had hard labor… it came to pass as her soul was departing… Rachel died, and was buried on the way to Efrata (Bethlehem). And Jacob set a pillar upon her grave, the same as is on Rachel’s grave until this day.”
This week, Heshvan 11 (Thursday, Oct. 29) is that day of Mother Rachel’s passing. I just might light a candle. That’s what family does. I’m her kid.
I only wish I could be out there on the West Bank, visiting her today with the hundreds of others, my family. That place where Rachel sleeps, a place I love to go and sit quietly, a place I won’t be able to visit if Obama and J Street have the Jew-free West Bank they’re calling for. According to Obama and J Street, where Rachel is buried is no place for Jews, “illegal,” because Jews were kicked out of there in 1948 and only came back when the IDF crossed the Green Line in the sweetness of June, 1967. I guess they figure that once a Jew is kicked out he upsets the Palestinians too much if that Jew comes back. Telling Jews that they don’t have the right to live in (or around) Bethlehem, let alone the expectation of visiting Rachel safely, well, that hurts. The day may come when Jews will have to leave, as we’ve had to leave other places before, but for Obama and J Street to be so happily and eagerly carrying the Arab hammer makes one wonder.
J Street doesn’t get it. AIPAC does. That’s why AIPAC — and settlers, Evangelicals, Sderot cab drivers, Bibi, and Israelis who ride busses, among others — feel like blood, like family, while J Street feels like a heartless stranger.
Yeah, me and Franky laughin’ and drinkin’
Nothin’ feels better than blood on blood
Takin’ turns dancin’ with Maria
As the band played “Night of the Johnstown flood”
I catch him when he’s strayin’, like any brother would
Man turns his back on his family, well he just ain’t no good