What do they all know that I don't know?

The final blow to my serenity was those laminated Psalms.

By EMANUEL FELDMAN
I was holding up fairly well under the pressures of this war until four things occurred. First: e-mails and calls from family and friends in the US who wanted to know how we were holding up. Having been through Israel's wars while living both here and in America, I know from experience that the worries and concerns from far away are far more intense than they are here in Israel, even when we are under fire. In any case, I was doing fine until those calls began coming in. Then I began to worry, to take my pulse and ask myself: How am I doing under all this tension? Then something else happened. On the fourth day of the war our apartment building's house committee chairman knocked on my door wanting to know if we had anything of value in the air-raid shelter, since they were cleaning it up and installing plumbing. "Installing plumbing?" I asked. "Why do we suddenly need plumbing?" We never had it in other wars. He smiled. "It never hurts to be fully ready." I began to wonder: Does he know something I don't know? A FEW DAYS later the prime minister addressed the nation. He mentioned the name of God twice, and cited the prophet Jeremiah at length. It was a well-crafted speech, beautifully delivered. But our secular PM mentioning God in public and citing the Bible? Ehud Olmert? I began to worry: Why has Olmert suddenly got religion? Then came another blow to my serenity. Since the war began, morning davening in synagogues around the country has concluded with communal recitation of three special Psalms: 83, 130, and 142, in which King David asks God to rescue him from his enemies. David lived 3,000 years ago, and even then he and the Jewish people had no lack of enemies. In Psalm 83 alone, he lists 11 enemy nations! Our Sages' comment that Esau will eternally hate Jacob was as true in his day as in ours; nothing, it seems, has really changed. Since the beginning of this war, then, specially printed sheets with these Psalms have been distributed daily in my shul, and they have been a source of strength and comfort as we ask God to render our enemies "like stubble before the wind" (83:14). These Psalms have kept us going through the ups and downs of the war: God will surely not forget us, just as he did not forget King David, and as he preserved our people 3,000 years ago, and 1,000 years ago, and 500 years ago, and 100 years ago, and 50 years ago. Until yesterday, when those same Psalms were handed out, but in a different form: laminated. "Laminated?" I said to the gabbai, in a feeble attempt at humor. "Does it mean the war is going to last so long that paper alone will not do? "I don't want laminated," I protested. "I want plain disposable, temporary, old-fashioned paper." He ignored me. It was the crowning blow. Instead of giving me strength and comfort, those laminated Psalms have created new concerns. Does the gabbai know something I don't know? I WILL STILL read those special Psalms every day. But not from the laminated sheets. Why? Firstly, the Psalms are eternal, even on ordinary paper. More importantly, a laminated beseeching of God implies something that is not true: that the Gates of Prayer are closed, and will take a very long time to open. I believe those gates are always open, and that we need only give them a firmer push so the One Above heeds our petition. I will have my Psalms on plain paper, thank you. For I know that by the time that paper wears thin our prayers will have been answered, and (a) we will all be doing fine so our American friends can stop fretting; (b) our air raid shelter with its spanking new plumbing and supplies will be totally unused and will gather dust; and (d) laminated special Psalms will be buried in the cemetery along with other unusable holy texts. OH, YES: Ehud Olmert and the Name of God. May it be God's will that all our prime ministers use His holy Name and cite the Jewish Bible not only when things look grave, but when they look up as well. That way, God will surely look down upon them and upon His holy land with divine mercy, and grant us the age of peace we so long for - an age when utilizing His divine Name will be a sign of recognition that, after all is said and done, we are His people and this is His land, and no power in the world can dislodge us from it. And this last prayer can definitely be laminated. The writer is the former editor of Tradition magazine.