“Ode Yoter Tov” More, More Good—Shabbat Shalom

Day 8 of Israel/Iran War

My apartment here in Ashkelon is full of happy young people—my daughters’ friends who came from Tel Aviv to go to the beach. The images you see on TV that are considered news are very real and life-shattering—apartment buildings demolished, a hospital taking a direct hit, and Israelis burying their loved ones. But that’s not the whole story. Life goes on. Many stores are open—especially grocery stores and the market. In my city, the boardwalk that borders the Mediterranean is full of walkers, runners, and bicyclers—as well as those who simply enjoy the view of the sea.

It's weird.

Growing up in Virginia, I always assumed that a country at war was consumed by war. Even though Israel is by all accounts winning this war, the people of Iran had the ability to get out of harm’s way. However, their fanatical government and military are targeting residential buildings and hospitals. We see it and we feel it. But in so many ways, we are used to it.

What was that? I just heard what sounded like a gunshot outside. That is what is different. Another one. I’m not making this up. As I’m writing, I am hearing what sounds like gunshots outside. But if I were in Virginia, I would simply ignore it, knowing that it probably wasn’t. Every sound here you can mistake for a siren or a missile.

Ode Yoter Tov—More, More Good

There’s a song in Israel right now that’s quite popular, sung by a young Israeli named Sasson Shaulov. The song has become an unofficial anthem during this time of war. The song speaks of God’s favor and blessing.

Let the light shine on us, let faith shine;

True wisdom, and knowledge, and understanding;

Come already our Messiah and without any war.

The chorus is simply, “It will be for me more, more good.” The words ode and yoter both mean “more.” In English, we would say, “even better.” It’s a Job-like confession, that despite everything we’re going through, the future is bright—God will make it better. Why am I telling you this? I just saw a clip below that I will share with you that just crushed me. I’m crying even as I write this.

I don’t know who the man is playing the piano. But it is obvious that he is the owner of the home. Their home was destroyed and their souls were traumatized, but he walks over to his piano and begins to play this song, “Ode yoter tov, Ode yoter tov, Ode yoter tov, Ode yoter tov,” as the chorus of the song continues with simply those words proclaiming that it will be even better in the future.

Dozens Saved

Most nights, we gather at least once, if not twice, in our bomb shelter when there are warnings. For the past couple of nights, we’ve had one of the girls’ friends from Tel Aviv with us as well. Yesterday morning, when the alarms went off, we ran into the bomb shelter and waited. For the past two days, there had not been any direct hits. And then there was. 

A hospital in Beersheva took a direct hit. Yes, Iran targeted a hospital! But while there was massive structural damage and many were injured, no one was killed. It was nothing short of a miracle. You see, the night before, the hospital management decided to move the dozens of patients from the fifth floor to a more secure area. They didn’t have any intelligence that the hospital would be targeted; they simply wanted to put patients in the safest places. The fifth floor took the direct hit! Indeed, some of them, if not all of them, would have been killed. It is a certainty. It is just one of the many miracles we have witnessed amid the tragedy.

Pray for Pastor Moti

Moti Cohen, who was one of the associate pastors when I was the senior leader at Tiferet Yeshua (our congregation) and the youth leader, became the senior pastor two months ago. The day after the war began, he was called to reserve duty. He operates heavy machinery and was part of the cleanup after the first missile strikes in Tel Aviv. Moti has one of the strongest work ethics of anybody I’ve ever met. But he also has a wife and six kids.

Please keep him in prayer as he seeks to stay in touch with people in the congregation, serve the country, and take care of his family.

Moti Cohen – pastor at our congregation, a reservist in the IDF, father of 6

Shabbat Shalom

The kids (30-year-olds) just went to the beach. I’m going to take a nap. Tonight, we will have Erev Shabbat dinner. We will pray over the challah bread and the wine. We will recite the kiddish, a declaration that sets apart Shabbat or a holiday as holy, in obedience to the command to “remember the Sabbath day and keep it holy,” rooted in scripture:

• Creation – Genesis 2:2–3

“And God blessed the seventh day and sanctified it…”

• Commandment – Exodus 20:8

“Remember the Sabbath day to keep it holy.”?

• Redemption – Deuteronomy 5:15

“You shall remember that you were a slave in Egypt…”

We will also pray the “Shechianu,” a prayer of thanksgiving that we, the Jewish people, are still alive, exist, and have arrived at this season.

Shabbat Shalom