I’ll always remember where I was when the war in Ukraine started. I was in HEL (airport lingo for the Helsinki-Vantaa International Airport), exactly a month ago. The night before, I was on a connecting flight to Tel Aviv, diverted back to HEL after an hour in the air. After a long wait, the airline provided us with shuttle transportation to hotels for an overnight stay. Navigating through mountains of snow, and now dragging the extra suitcase I had checked earlier, I felt like a refugee.
The next morning, I was hoping to take advantage of the delay for a little lackadaisical excursion, before my rescheduled flight. But when I turned on the TV, I discovered that while I was sleeping, Russia had invaded Ukraine. As a Jew and an Israeli, I’ve learned from our history that when someone consistently threatens, believe it. As an immigrant son of refugees, the sight of those many thousands of refugees was gut-wrenching and intensely personal.
In one instant, my mindset changed. This was no time for touring. When I arrived back at the airport, it was swarming with people. Finland, which shares a long border with Russia, had to cancel many flights and divert many others from crossing Ukrainian airspace. My flight to Tel Aviv now was re-routed through London.
My stay in Israel reminded me of the Gulf War, when Saddam Hussein invaded Kuwait 31 years ago. I joined the Israeli army that year, right out of high school, and for four years dealt with the threat of chemical weapons. Just like now.
At his conference meeting today, NATO Secretary General Jens Stoltenberg said the use of chemical weapons would be the red line, would force NATO to retaliate with direct military force. Is that where we are now? Should Russia use chemical weapons, as it did in Syria, we are in a world war again? Have we regressed that far? Is Putin stepping back in this dance of history.
It’s always the same war. Someone invades someone else’s space. But, in fact, war really started with Cain and Abel. Cain thought he could overcome the spirit of Abel, powerless to overcome his own inclination. As God said to Cain, be less possessive of others; first possess yourself.
On my way back to New York, I again had a layover of several hours in Helsinki. This time, I was determined to see the sights. It was Purim, so I went to synagogue, hoping to hear a reading of the Megillah — another story of a threatened nation. But the synagogue was closed for security reasons. Instead, I went to the famous Kamppi Chapel of Silence — a quiet sanctuary for self-contemplation. The structure is a modern architectural marvel, a different experience from praying to God at the Kotel, the Western Wall in Jerusalem. Yet, it was similar to the inner experience. A trip that started with a loud bang, was coming to a quiet close. I wanted to hear the delicate voice of God. I sat there for half an hour, until a question came to my mind: How do you really know your mind is silent? The answer came almost instantaneously: when you hear the music. And then my mind was singing.
The message for me was that God is present in the darkest places, too. Sometimes, we need to go to hell, or to HEL as I did, to see what people are truly experiencing. But we don’t have to stay in dark and divisive places. As we prepare for Passover this year, planning to leave Egypt again, let us hope it is for the last time. For me, I’ll always remember where I was when the war started. This year, I’d like to remember that it ends.
—Rabbi Gadi Capela