Sheila Raviv: The Difficulties of Peace are Better than the Agonies of War
Good morning, Shabbat Shalom and Chag Shevuot Sameach and a Blessed Pentecost and Ascencion Day
The difficulties of peace are better than the agony of war.”
— Menachem Begin
Shevuot celebrates our receiving of the Torah — not only faith and ritual, but the moral foundations of how we live, how we treat one another, how we behave as human beings. The Torah contains 613 commandments, and while none of us manages to fulfil them perfectly, surely the most important among them are those that demand decency, compassion, justice, and respect for others.
That is why the behaviour we witnessed this week from Minister Itamar Ben Gvir and those around him felt so profoundly shaming. Cruelty, provocation, and hatred are not expressions of Jewish strength; they are a betrayal of the very values we celebrate on Shevuot. The violent extremists once romantically described as “Hilltop Youth” are not settlers safeguarding Israel’s future, but lawless individuals whose actions damage innocent people, deepen division, and stain the moral fabric of this country we love so deeply. Criticism of such behaviour is not anti-Israel; on the contrary, it comes from caring enough about Israel to expect better from those who claim to represent it.
It is also important to remember that the very framework of the Oslo Accords recognised that both Jews and Palestinians would continue living in Judea and Samaria while final status arrangements were negotiated. The existence of Jewish communities there is therefore not, in itself, the issue. One may support or oppose settlements politically, but there is a profound difference between lawful communities — families building homes, schools, farms, and lives — and violent extremism carried out in their name. Far too often, the distinction is deliberately blurred, unfairly tarring entire populations because of the actions of a dangerous minority. Most Israelis, including many settlers themselves, want nothing more radical than safety, stability, and the possibility of living alongside their neighbours without fear.
I love Shevuot! The supermarket shelves suddenly become a sea of cheesecakes, cream cheeses, yoghurts and enough dairy products to keep the entire country happily overfed for days. Homes are filled with the smell of baking blintzes and cheesecakes, with every family utterly convinced, quite rightly, of course, that theirs is the best. Meanwhile, on the kibbutzim, harvest festivals are in full swing, children leap about in the hay, tractors are decorated, and otherwise perfectly respectable adults appear in alarming “Farmer Joe” outfits which would not look out of place in an old village fête. Babies born on the Kibbutz or moshav since the last Shevuot are celebrated, their names often read out for all to hear.
And somehow this lovely festival, marking the giving of the Torah at Mount Sinai, also weaves together one of the gentlest and most touching stories in the Bible: Ruth, who chose loyalty and love over comfort and familiarity, following her mother-in-law Naomi with the immortal words, “Where you go, I will go.” It is during the harvest that Ruth meets Boaz in the fields, a story of kindness, dignity, belonging, acceptance, and ultimately renewal. So Shevuot becomes a perfect mixture of spirituality, harvest festival, family gathering and national cheesecake competition — which feels very Jewish indeed.
In easier times, on a Shavuot weekend like this, we would simply head north, to the breathtaking beauty of the Galilee, to tiny towns, kibbutzim and villages bursting with flowers and greenery. We would stop in Druze villages where extraordinary women prepared wonderful kosher meals for visitors from Israel and abroad, and the greatest concern of the day was whether one had packed a hat and enough water for the walk.
Now the reality feels painfully different. Even during what is supposedly called a ceasefire, Hezbollah continues its explosive drones, and little children celebrating Shavuot in their kindergarten are taught not songs and dances alone, but how to run for cover or lie flat on the ground protecting their heads. And yet so often the world hears only one side of the story, while the fear and disruption endured by Israeli families in the north barely merit a mention. It leaves one longing not for anything grand or political, but simply for the ordinary peace of those earlier days.
I know that we are living through an extraordinarily unpredictable time, our lives seemingly balanced between the decisions of two powerful men and an extremist theocracy openly committed to our destruction. One moment we are wondering whether we will spend Shabbat sitting in the mamad listening for sirens, and the next, whether we might simply go for a peaceful walk in the Jerusalem hills. That uncertainty is exhausting.
Perhaps that is why I felt such anger this week when an American President casually remarked that Israel’s Prime Minister would “do as he is told.” Seventy-eight years after Israel fought for and achieved independence, those words jar painfully. Whatever one thinks of Netanyahu, and Israelis certainly think many different things, this country is not a protectorate, nor are Israelis a people who wait for others to determine our fate. We are proud, stubborn, argumentative, independent, resilient people who built a nation against impossible odds. And yes, there is confusion, frustration, and fear at the moment, but beneath all of it remains something unshakable: this is our home, our responsibility, and ultimately our future to decide.
On a much lighter note, we had rather mixed feelings watching this year’s Eurovision, seeing the Israeli song “Michelle”, with its extraordinary stage performance, come first with the viewers yet only second with the judges. It somehow summed up the strange atmosphere surrounding Israel these days; ordinary people responding with their hearts while official panels tie themselves into knots trying to appear balanced and terribly sophisticated. In truth, hosting next year’s Eurovision would probably have been rather complicated for us at the moment, but it would still have been lovely to win. Through it all, Noam Bettan conducted himself with warmth, dignity, and intelligence. No anger, no theatrics, just quiet confidence and pride in representing Israel at a time when doing so takes no small amount of courage. Sometimes, simple decency speaks far louder than politics. I love that he ended his performance, as the cameras closed in for a close-up, he mouthed “Am Yisrael Chai.”
Last Friday night, we had an impromptu Shabbat Dinner here with our cousins Rachel and Yossi Ribak and Zehava and Ami Sever. As you can imagine, the conversation went from our current political and diplomatic situation and the emotional see-saw of both our leadership and Iran. The interesting Israeli question of “Who will you vote for?” was also clear in intent and uncertain in fact. It all depends on whether or not our current opposition cares enough to get together and form a majority to oust this Kakistocracy. I pray that it will happen and happen soon. I pray that we will return to a united, caring society without the splintering of the last nearly 20 years. I pray that we will retain our rightful place among the democratic nations. I pray that we will regain respect, both external and self-respect. In other words, I pray that we will be everything we prayed for before May 14th 1948.
So, the first song is an obvious choice. Michelle, the incredible performance of Noam Bettan and the dancers at the 2026 Eurovision Song Contest. https://youtu.be/E2aL4xRzNXI?si=lVymECDvT8lJ4uU0
Naomi Shemer wrote many of the most beautiful Israeli songs and this one doesn’t disappoint. SHIRAT HA´ASAVIM Sung by Shuli Rand, it is a song to the plants and trees, surely the epitome of Shevuot. https://youtu.be/GDw_2sHhxXQ?si=tzyrvKSLqThgc5Xd
Shevet Achim v’Achiot – a Tribe of Brothers and Sisters. What we are and what we will be. It’s our dream, it’s our fact. Here it’s home, Here it’s heart, Here our ancestors are the roots and we are the flowers, it’s our Israel we will never leave. Israeli artists sing our greatest prayer. https://youtu.be/KLx6qOdA4OE?si=2FxwQl0F86HXMhIR
I wish you a peaceful celebration of both Shevuot and Pentecost. I wish you a harvest of love and joy, of understanding and acceptance of the other.
Shabbat Shalom to one and all and may God bless you with the ability to find the best in every situation.
With love from our veranda which is filled with the colour and scents from the blossoming trees and the newly emerged flowers and, of course, the view from our veranda, over the Jerusalem Hills, the view of Jerusalem, David’s city which is has no less than 70 names in the Bible including Ir Shalem, Ariel, Yerushalyim, Shalm, Moriah, Zion, yes Zion hence the word Zionist…..
Sheila
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