From the chuppah to the skies over Iran

Some years ago the late Joe Krycer who made aliyah with his family after having led JNF Victoria for many years, took it upon himself to assist the then budding community of Sderot located literally on the bor- der of the Gaza strip. In that context he began to work with Rabbi Dovid Fendel, an American oleh who was dean of the Hesder yeshivah located in the city. (Hesder yeshivot are those which combine intensive Torah study with army service; in this case also assisting town residents with meeting their needs.)

On my visit to Sderot in to see the realities of border life I was introduced to Rabi Dovid Fendel – a key personality in the town as well as well as serving as rosh yeshivah. As I was taken around to tour the yeshivah and its surrounds, one of the most striking aspects of that facility was the multitude of shelters – located so that in case of necessity (this was before October 7 but a reality of border life) one could quickly access a shelter wherever you were at the time a siren was heard – on occasions giving barely a minute’s warning.

‘The mesirut nefesh shown by both the groom … and the bride … is a testament to the qu’iet heroism that sustains Am Yisrael.

Sadly on my most recent visit to Sderot in February 2024 when I travelled to Israel to see the horrific reality of what had happened just a few months earlier, what had been a thriving town was now just a shell of its former self, a focal point of the destruction wreaked by Hamas. The most striking feature was the now desolate site of the former police station.

The building in which so many had sought shelter on that terrible first day was now completely demolished – all within it at the time had died. (Many individual residents aside, also murdered on that terrible first day, that, being Simchat Torah, should have been a day of joy was a busload of defenceless pen- sioners who had been about to travel to the Dead Sea for a day of relaxation. Seeing the point where they were bru- tally murdered while alighting the bus brought home the horror the way no other action could.) I cannot leave this element of my story without mentioning that my visit was just one week after the much-publicised visit to Israel – but to Ramallah rather than Sderot – of Penny Wong, Australian Foreign Minister who declined to visit the locations of the atrocities in the south. For myself it was clear that the old adage of seeing is believing was crucial to an understand- ing of unimaginable horror – and it was that action (or inaction) by an official Australian representative that led me to be asked at three meetings with senior army officials: “Australia used to be our good friends – what happened to you”?

But despite all this tragic horror the city has shown its resilience. The yeshivah headed by Rabbi Fendel is operative. Many former residents have returned. The trains to the town are operative once again and reconstruction has com- menced – though the now empty site of the former police station has become a stark memorial to those murdered within it as well as elsewhere. Sderot now stands as an outstanding example of the resil- ience of Israel – including the resilience and determination of so many whose homes are in the border communities where they lost not just property but family and friends.

But why have I turned to this just now when the focus is on Iran (albeit that Gaza must not be ignored and everything done that could assist/rescue the remain- ing hostages).

The following story was shared online by Rabbi Fendel on the Thursday evening that just preceded commencement of the latest phase of the war: A young man, a student at the Sderot yeshivah and a combat pilot in the Israeli Air Force, stood under the chuppah, moments away from marrying the love of his life.

Just before the ceremony began, he received an urgent message from his commander: “We have a mission tonight. Prepare to deploy.”

He asked if he should come right away. The response was calm but serious: “Get married, dance, bring your bride to her parents’ home. Then call us. We need every combat pilot we have – tonight we’re striking Iran’s nuclear facilities.”

The wedding went on. But the guest list was suddenly missing a few key faces. His fellow pilots, close friends who had planned to dance with him on his wed- ding night, had all been called back to base. One by one, they cancelled or just slipped away. The skies were calling.

There was no honeymoon. No time for post-wedding celebration. Just a quiet goodbye, a uniform replacing a suit, and a mission that couldn’t wait. The morn- ing after his wedding, he bid goodbye to his wife and with her blessings went to join the aerial attacks on Iran.

That event exemplifies the principle that halachah underpins every aspect of Jewish life. Regarding war affecting the Jewish nation the Torah (Devarim 20:5-8) lists the requirement to participate being subject to certain exceptions. The Talmud (Sotah 8;42) elucidates the principles involved but then concludes that exemptions have limited application. Thus we learn that halachah prescribes that for war of the most serious nature even a groom leaves his chuppah and a bride leaves her bridal chamber. (So much for broad Charedi exemptions and even the issue of female exemption.) Relevant definitions are complex, and rarely (at least in post-Temple times) are these hala- chic principles played out in real life. But this week was different.

The mesirut nefesh shown by both the groom, who left for a combat mission after his wedding night, and the bride, who supported him with strength and faith, is a testament to the quiet heroism that sustains Am Yisrael.

May this couple be blessed with a life- time of peace and joy.

And may our soldiers always return home safely and merit great success in their missions.

Am Yisrael chai!

Shabbat shalom, Yossi