It is the very nexus between these two impossible opposites that is so hard to live with, yet we cannot live without – between grief and joy, sadness and happiness, between memory and independence – that creates this profoundly special moment of transition. The moment the country was born. Every time anew, for 71 years now, similar to a birth and the instantaneous transition from agonizing labor to elation over introducing a new life to the world. The State of Israel was born out of a dream and an aspiration, and also out of the pain and bereavement of war. Nathan Alterman's poem, "The Silver Platter," is more than wonderful lyrics; it reflects our reality "in terror and joy," just as these two days bleed into and complete one another.
Today's memory isn't simply about commitment to "yesterday's" fallen, rather, first and foremost, to ourselves and to tomorrow; commitment to the founding generation that laid the foundations upon which we were born; commitment to increased mutual guarantee among all segments of the Jewish nation (including those abroad), even if real disagreements are tearing us apart.
It is also a commitment to our Jewish past, because for many of today's youth – those born into an established country, into a reality where the country exists and national consciousness is already a given – the country of their birth. The State of Israel is many things, but one thing it is not is a given – and it must never be viewed as such! In every other country perhaps the natural native connection suffices, but not in Israel, which grew from the roots of the past, without which it has no right exist specifically here in the land of Israel.
The Jewish historical commitment, that which goes beyond the nativist commitment, strikes me every time I see those ancient wooden rafters in the tunnels beneath the Temple Wall compound. The story of these rafters – some of which perhaps dates back to the Second Temple Period – always reminds me of another famous wooden rafter from Alterman's "On the High Road," a nursery song for a boy on an immigrant ship. The poem describes the tree next to which the boy's grandfather bowed his head in prayer for Jerusalem; the tree which to which his father was tied, beaten to death and fell with his face in the direction of Jerusalem; the tree now being used as the flagpole for the ship sailing toward the land of Israel. This song is a summary of our history as a nation.
David Ben-Gurion once asked "is there is any other nation capable of such an arduous journey on the stage of history? From the Red Sea in the days of our forefather Moses to the Red Sea in the days of the Israel Defense Forces? We learned a great deal on this long journey, and the tribulations we have suffered cannot be in vain," he said.
The State of Israel circa 2019 is still walking this long path, always looking forward but always looking back as well. Because our personal and national memory is the flagpole on which we will fly our flag tonight, a flagpole we cannot do without.
