Elul Miracle – in Gaza

Being in the Israeli army gave me a huge understanding of the society as a new immigrant.  I met many soldiers who found it hard to stay religious, especially after basic training where finding a minyan[1] isn’t always possible. The long days and long nights of guard duty with little sleep on a thin foam mattress and a rifle for a pillow make it hard to have kavana[2] in prayer all the time.

Thanks to Rav Arush’s books Garden of Emuna and In Forest Fields, my spiritual tanks filled daily with love of Judaism and my fellow man.  These books gave me the opportunity to teach my fellow soldiers; my fondest memories are the late nights in a bunker going over the main points of hitbodedut[3] with close friends. In fact, quite a number of soldiers sought my advice on how to do hitbodedut during their two hour guard shifts on the Gaza border. I personally cherished these guarding and hitbodedut sessions where being alone with Hashem gave me tremendous closeness to Him and strength to move forward through any task.

 Above image: Rabbi Lazer Brody spending time with an IDF infantry unit on the Gaza border; photo by David Bader
 

The month of Elul came and Rav Lazer Brody came to our base and taught us all about the blessing of having your own personal relationship with Hashem, especially under high-stress situations like combat. That month my unit went through a huge change, suddenly soldiers were wearing tefillin, keeping Shabbat and asking more questions about Judaism. Every night, Selichot[4] minyans were formed. Commanders and soldiers stood together in prayer.
 
On the eve of Rosh HaShanah, a miracle took place that opened my units eyes to the power of prayer.  The sun was setting when my fellow soldiers tried to organize a minyan.  Being on the border with Gaza is not an easy place to find ten men to pray.  To our great surprise a huge amount of non-religious combat soldiers quickly volunteered to pray.  In order to accommodate this huge demand of people wanting to pray, our dinner was postponed by half an hour.
 
The synagogue was packed with soldiers singing together, while guns lied everywhere on the floor our prayers felt like they were flying to heaven.  I couldn’t believe my eyes, my comrades were really getting into the prayers.  The whole month long beforehand these same guys would volunteer to make a minyan for selichot.  These soldiers after a full day’s work would give up precious sleep time to do selichot at late hours with such emotion and brotherhood it could bring a tear to the eye.
 
Our prayers ended and we entered the dining hall for our evening meal.  Everyone was excited because on the holidays there are always better meals and it is no easy task to be on base while you are away from family.  The tables were elaborate with fruits, table cloths, and steaming hot chicken – a soldier’s dream.  We started Kiddush, my Ethiopian comrade led the group of 120 soldiers with the prayer and sang it perfectly. He reached the point within the blessing where it is customary for everyone surrounding to say “L’Chaim,” when suddenly a huge explosion took place right outside the building we were eating in. 
 
The building shook, sirens blasted, and people started screaming.  The loudspeakers shouted for everyone to run to the bomb shelter. Units on duty for the shift manned their positions and awaited orders.  My friend and I went into the synagogue and prayed psalms not knowing what had taken place. My heart raced while reading the psalms I could see my friend was worried, no one could believe what had just happened.  We all had a look of uncertainty on our faces.
 
About an hour passed until we were given the OK that we could leave the bomb shelter and resume our meal.  The lead commanders addressed and said that we had been hit by a homemade rocket.  After the meal we all went out to find the spot that the rocket had hit. Soon enough we found the spot and were shocked.  The rocket hit right next to a few benches where all of the guys hang out after eating. 

I couldn’t believe my eyes, this was a miracle before us all.  Had we not had that minyan where non-religious soldiers voluntarily participated, the meal would have taken place half an hour earlier. In the army, a meal lasts 20 – 25 minutes maximum. That means that all of those soldiers would have eaten, finished and been at that same spot where the rocket fell.  All in merit of the simple fact that these people made the effort to postpone their meal in order to pray the evening service.
 
This year, may our soldiers be in our prayers. It may be that because of your efforts to pray another great miracle will protect our borders’ units again this year.