Rachel Weeping for Her Children

Auschwitz, January 27, 1945

In an Eilat mall, I saw a girl barely five foot tall in camouflage fatigues with the semiautomatic weapon suspended from her shoulder almost dragging the ground as she walked with her six-foot something boyfriend.

 In the Negev I saw young people on a Sunday picnic with side arms and automatic weapons in hand. 

In Jerusalem I saw the Daughters of Zion armed and paroling the "City of Peace."

And in the dark stone hewn chamber of Yad Vashem, a single candle’s eternal reflection, and a wailing as the wind arousing the somber remembrance of “Rachel weeping for her children... because they are not” “… they have cast lots for my people and have given a boy for an harlot, and sold a girl for wine, that they might drink” (cf. Jer_31:15; Joel 3:3).

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