Tel Aviv Bomb Shelter

It was dinner time on October 2nd, 2024. As I lifted my fork to eat, the rocket sirens erupted across the room. I had landed in Tel Aviv less than 24 hours before, and 181 ballistic missiles soared into Israel from Iran. The scene that followed the sirens was heartbreaking.

Like clockwork, dozens of Jewish families immediately rose from their dinner tables and moved into the nearby bomb shelter. Their faces were an odd mixture of sobriety, resolve, and fatigue.

They were sober because these sirens heralded more than routine drills. They announced the possible death of loved ones throughout the land of Israel. Since Oct. 7th, 2023, everyone knew someone that was injured, maimed, or dead.

And yet, these Jewish faces were resolute, bearing no sense of cowardice or intimidation. They would take necessary precautions, and then emerge from the shelters to live their lives after the threat had passed. Above and beyond the sirens, Am Israel Chai resounds as an anthem within Israeli hearts. The People of Israel Live.

Lastly, those faces were fatigued because the siren-shelter cycle had been continuing daily for a full year. In twelve months, over 21,000 rockets had been fired at Israel. Sadly, each family, including the children, knew exactly what to do when they heard the alarms.

The fatigue broke my heart. Though Israel’s Iron Dome intercepted the missiles, preventing a harrowing scale of casualties, the strain of constant existential threat bore upon these precious minds and hearts. They were tired, and it was evident on each countenance.

A week or so later, I returned home to the United Kingdom and then traveled to the US shortly after that. The general mood regarding Iran’s attack was unsettling to me. Rather than outrage at Iran’s hostility, most people barely noticed. The sense was that Israel should just take the attack in stride, treating it as a matter of course. After all, the Iron Dome had done its job. What more could the Jews ask for?

People seemed to expect Israel to suffer crisis and not make too much of a fuss about it. Since she has the money, power, and privilege to run a very sophisticated defense system, what was there to be upset about?

It would be interesting to try and apply the same logic to my birth nation, the United States, or even my resident nation, the United Kingdom. How would they respond to 181 ballistic missiles from a foreign power? Or to neighboring hostiles who have both explicitly stated and consistently acted upon their genocidal hatred of American and British citizens?

Why is Israel only allowed to dodge bullets, but not disrupt the gun that’s firing?

I think the answer lies deep below the surface, lodged within the way we view Israel and the Jewish people. In his book, The Crucifixion of the Jews, theologian Frank H. Littell wrote, “Christians are subconsciously accustomed to accept as normal the misery of Jews.” Littell was writing in the immediate aftermath of the Holocaust and wrestling with how it could have happened in Christian Europe. The statement above is a part of his answer.

According to Littell, Christians expect Jews to suffer. We expect them to be hated and persecuted. We expect them to be victims of pogroms, expulsions, and inquisitions. We normalize this misery and expect them to see it as normal as well.

Therefore, when Hamas invades Israel to burn babies in ovens and rape hostages in underground tunnels, we may momentarily sympathize with Israel, but we do not see it as anything out of the ordinary experience for what it means to be Jewish.

Since I read Littell’s assessment of the Christian perspective, I’ve been deeply troubled. It’s hard to imagine that our complacency to Jewish suffering is a reflection of the Jesus we claim to follow––the same One who wept for the city of Jerusalem. I think we’ve got some internal work to do if we’re going to align with our weeping Lord.

In a previous blog, I wrote about three responses to Israel’s suffering. I encourage you to read that and consider what your own response is. We must bring our hearts and minds before the council of God, excavating and challenging any belief that is complicit in the demonic hatred that fuels antisemitism today.