As the wheels of the plane touched down in Israel, the flood of emotions overwhelmed me. Holding my children’s hands, a deep love for this land surged within me, and I almost wanted to cry with relief.
The separation anxiety from my parents’ home in Milan that morning seemed like a distant memory as the reality of being back in Israel sank in.
Awaiting our suitcases, a sudden siren shattered the air. Chaos ensued, with people running in all directions. My daughter, fear in her eyes, asked where to go. A young man guided us to safety just as a distant boom resonated through the air. We found refuge in a room adjacent to the arrival lounge. Emerging from the airport, coats sprawled over suitcases, we embraced the warmth of Tel Aviv. Spotting my husband in his uniform from a distance, joy erupted in the children’s shouts of “Aba! Aba!”
It had been almost a month since we last saw him, and the relief and happiness were palpable. His smile, seemingly optimistic, reassured me that despite the challenges, we were all back together – and he looked so handsome, too.
Driving home down a familiar highway, which had haunted me with unsettling dreams since October 7, I cautiously asked, “Is it safe to drive here now?” His nonchalant response echoed strength and determination: “Of course it is. There are no more terrorists here. We are fighting a war, and we will win! The nation is wounded and crying, yet remarkably united and strong against a common enemy,” he added, staring straight ahead.
The landscape had changed since our departure before Sukkot. When we left, Jerusalem buzzed with tourists and packed hotels, restaurants, and stores. Music and excitement filled the air, creating an almost magical atmosphere. However, beneath this veneer of extreme happiness, a profound national divide simmered.
Protests had spiraled out of control, escalating into violence and posing a real threat to the country’s unity. The stark differences between the religious and non-religious communities had transformed into genuine animosity, eroding the common language that once bound them together. Despite these tensions, what prevented an internal war was the enduring respect and love the people still held for the Land of Israel.
How Hamas's October 7 massacre helped heal Israel's internal divides
The surprise attack on October 7 had left a profound scar, but it had also healed internal divides. The protests and animosity that once threatened to tear the nation apart were replaced by a shared sense of grief and determination. Suddenly, we were all united, overcoming barriers that had seemed insurmountable.
Returning home, I found myself washing my husband’s heavy olive-green uniform that had previously been put away. Daily life had become a series of adjustments and surprises, with routine being a distant memory. Despite the challenges, a sense of gratitude prevails – for life, loved ones, home, and friends – although the days are intense, filled with news updates, stories of heroism, and a collective longing for the safe return of our kidnapped brothers and sisters. Funerals and shivas have become communal events, emphasizing the newfound sense of family in the face of adversity.
IN THE midst of turmoil, a remarkable transformation occurred: We found God. The Jewish identity, often taken for granted, became a unifying force.
Understanding dawned upon us all that being Jewish transcends geographical boundaries, and the dedication to observing mitzvot or delving into Torah study is more than a mere detail; it is a matter of survival.
In these times of uncertainty, the depth of one’s Jewishness is being redefined. It becomes evident that the mere act of residing in the Land of Israel does not automatically confer perfection on one’s Jewish identity. The awakening is a stirring recognition that the true substance of being Jewish lies in a more profound connection.
This newfound awareness transcends the traditional divides that often characterized discussions on Jewish identity; and the differences between observant and non-observant, once a source of division, now pales in significance compared to the shared bonds forged in the face of external threats. The unity that emerges from collective hardship emphasizes the intrinsic value of Jewish identity, regardless of individual choices in religious practice.
In this era of uncertainty and change, individuals are beginning to see beyond the superficial markers of Jewishness, and there’s a deeper exploration of what it truly means to be Jewish. The idea that perfection hinges on religious observance or scholarly pursuits undergoes reevaluation, making room for a more inclusive understanding that embraces the diversity within the Jewish community.
As the broader community grapples with the ongoing struggles, the awakening among the non-observant serves as a testament to the resilience and adaptability of Jewish identity. It reflects a growing realization that being Jewish is not confined to external rituals but encompasses a broader, more profound connection to heritage, community, and shared history.
The awakening is a powerful reminder that the journey of self-discovery within Jewish identity is ongoing, and the richness of that identity is not diminished by personal choices but rather enhanced by the collective strength of the Jewish people.
Discovering a profound love for Hashem within ourselves has become a transformative aspect of our journey. From this realization, we understand that in the eyes of a terrorist or a Jew-hater protesting on the streets of Europe, distinctions based on our religious observance become inconsequential. Whether we light Shabbat candles or consume pork, to them,we are unified under a common identity.
In response to this stark reality, we have chosen to forge a connection with God, recognizing that through it, we derive strength and a sense of protection. In the face of external threats, the collective connection to God becomes a source of resilience and fortitude. By deepening our spiritual bonds, we not only find solace but also a profound sense of unity with our fellow Jews, despite all our differences.
Connecting to God is not just a religious practice; it is also a source of empowerment. By acknowledging our shared vulnerability, we have found strength in our shared faith. This connection serves as a spiritual armor, offering a sense of protection and a reminder that, regardless of our individual practices, we are bound together by a common thread of heritage, faith, and resilience.
We are not defined only by a piece of land, we are Jewish because we have been chosen by God.
Amid the uncertainties and challenges, this newfound connection to God becomes a beacon of hope. It fosters a sense of belonging and security within a community that is not defined by external differences but rather strengthened by a shared commitment to a higher purpose.
As we hold on to this deepened connection to God, we are a testament to the indomitable spirit of the Jewish people, resilient in the face of adversity and bound together by a shared love for God that transcends individual practices or beliefs.
Am Yisrael chai.
The writer, originally from Italy, now lives in Jerusalem with her husband and four children. She heads HadassahChen Productions and hosts a weekly radio talk show on Arutz Sheva.