For Those Who Served, and Those Who Follow

Shabbat Shalom!

I don’t go to many sporting events, so singing the national anthem isn’t a regular experience. This past Wednesday, I sang it twice.

The first time was at the St. Louis Kaplan Feldman Holocaust Museum for the official opening of the Jewish War Veterans memorial and renewed exhibit. Years in the making, the exhibit traces the history of Jewish military service in St. Louis, from those who fought alongside Teddy Roosevelt to those who served in the war on terror.

At the gathering, as we honored Jewish veterans from our community, I thought about my own family. My great-grandfather served in World War I. My grandfathers served during World War II, one in the Navy and one in the Merchant Marine. Like the men and women whose stories are told in that exhibit, they had families who loved them and waited for them to come home. Standing there on Veterans Day, singing the anthem, I thought about what that service asked of all of them.

A few hours later, I stood and sang it again, this time at Nora’s middle school concert. I was there as a proud dad, using my body language and fatherly telepathy to remind Nora to stand straight and smile. My mind also wandered back to the event at the Museum. I found myself hoping that my daughter and none of these children would have to experience war first-hand, and grateful for those whose service have protected each young generation’s freedoms across history.

Since Wednesday, I’ve been thinking about the words from the book of Ecclesiastes, which we read on Sukkot.

“To everything there is a season, and a time to every purpose under heaven.”

The verse goes on to speak of “a time to plant,” “a time to weep, and a time to laugh,” and “a time of war, and a time of peace.”

A couple of weeks ago, I wrote about planting trees in our yard and wondering who might sit in their shade someday. Planting asks us to imagine a future we may never see. The veterans we honor did what their time asked of them, knowing the freedoms they helped protect would be enjoyed by people they would never meet.

Following the national anthem, Nora and her classmates sang “This Little Light of Mine.”

In that auditorium, in ways Nora and her classmates don’t yet fully grasp, someday they too will be asked to carry the light for future generations. It will be a privilege, it is, to watch our children grow up and begin to figure out what their own time will ask of them.

Tonight, we welcome Shabbat, I’ll think about how two flames can light the room in ways that no single candle can alone. And I’ll think about the last words in that passage, “a time of peace.” I’m grateful to the people we honored on Veterans Day, and I’m hopeful for the children who have inherited the freedoms of their sacrifice. May our youngest generation continue to have the freedom to raise their voices, and together, to make our community’s collective light shine brighter.