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Josh Jury

Sun Before the Storm

Masada National Park, Israel photographed by author (Josh Jury) on September 21, 2023.
Masada National Park, Israel photographed by author (Josh Jury) on September 21, 2023.

I last stood on Israeli soil during a high school semester. October 11, 2023 followed seven weeks of sun and blue skies. This day was different, though. It was dark, cloudy, and chaotic. 

On that day, my classmates and I were rushed to Ben Gurion Airport where we were greeted with bustling, panicked lines. Once past security, sirens blared, and we rushed to take shelter. An hour later, we were on a plane, the ground shaking, people praying, as we waved goodbye from our windows to the place we’d grown to love.

While there have always been clouds throughout Israel’s tumultuous history, for the last 15 months it has felt like the sun has been perpetually obscured. When I close my eyes, this is not the Israel I see. For I know Israel is not just a war. There was sun before the storm.

I’m haunted by the reality that Israel’s image is shaped by war. I worry that Jewish kids going to their Sunday school class only hear about the traumatic headlines, the hostages, the torn coexistence. I worry that Jewish teens who haven’t been to Israel are exclusively seeing Israel criticized in their classrooms and on social media. I watch as those around me, Jewish and not-Jewish alike become accustomed to an Israel at war. A normalized, war-torn country. I fear that the clouds of the war overshadow the sun before the storm. 

When I close my eyes, I see Jerusalem stone. The dense limestone adorning the old city. I see thousands of blocks of the pale white rock firmly upholding modern buildings in ancient quarters. I see the Western Wall at the center of it all. I see the foundation of where my ancestors once prayed and the place where Jews from around the world come to feel connected to their heritage.

When I close my eyes, I taste a ripe burgundy-colored pomegranate that was picked straight from the tree. The tart flavors burst in my mouth as I pull apart the seeds from the rich, sacred fruit. With each bite, I remember the symbolism of the 613 seeds that correlate with the 613 mitzvot in the Torah. The native plant satiates my appetite as it has done for living creatures in this land for millennia. 

When I close my eyes, I smell the fresh Challah at the local bakery on Shabbat morning. I can smell the earthy purple rosemary adorning the outskirts of my school campus. I breathe in the salty Mediterranean air and the calm aroma of the sea.

When I close my eyes, I hear the harmonious sound of a Shofar blow in Jaffa, queuing the New Year. At the same time, I hear a nearby mosque’s call to prayer. I listen as the two sounds cry out a symphony of coexistence and spiritual connection. The noise echoes throughout the neighborhood as people proudly gather to testify to their religious traditions.

When I close my eyes, I feel the intense, sweltering heat atop Masada at sunrise. I feel sweat dripping down my back after the vigorous trek up the mountaintop. I feel the testament of an ancient fortress that has withstood the rise and fall of multiple empires. I am reminded of the Jewish plight to persevere and remain resilient amidst the toughest moments in history.

Since October 2023, I have wrestled with how I see Israel when I close my eyes. I’ve considered how my perspective of the country has changed concerning news headlines, social media, and my experience living there. Despite the sadness and grief of my last visit, I don’t allow the clouds to cover the sun that was before the storm, or at least not entirely.

The reality is that when we go to watch the news, other than the weather and sports, we typically see the storms of the world and not the sun. We become overwhelmed with how loud the thunder is. There is a heavy focus on the bad, and consequently, we don’t get nearly enough exposure to the good. The same goes for social media, classrooms, and even our day-to-day conversations. Oftentimes, the storms overshadow the sun. 

This doesn’t have to be the way. We can’t deny the storms, the chaos, and the ongoing war. We can’t ignore the painful issues still affecting us and our future because that’s what makes us human. However, what we can and must do is not forget about the sun, the good in our world, and the survival of the Jewish tradition. As we approach an Israel-Hamas ceasefire and hostage release deal, this message is crucial for our future. 

If we can’t see Israel before the storm, we won’t know what to look for when the sun shines.

About the Author
Josh Jury expedited his high school graduation in the U.S. following a semester at Heller High School in Israel that was cut short by war. He is a voice for education on combating Antisemitism and anti-Zionism, and a Gen Z voice for Israel. Josh recently took part in the URJ Teen Israel Organizing Fellowship, and was honored as one of JUF’s 18 Under 18 for his work representing Israel.
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