This explanation and humble perspective impressed me. But then Motti continued nonchalantly and related something I will never forget. He told me that his house was on the outskirts of Sderot. Over the years it has been destroyed three times by Hamas rockets and he has rebuilt it each time. When I responded with my own version of “shock and awe,” he looked at me like I was crazy. He said Baruch Hashem nobody was hurt – it was only a house. I had the ability to rebuild so I rebuilt. He then asked me what’s the alternative, to leave? “That’s what our enemies want us to do. My response to them is that I am staying.”
The Gemara in Moed Katan (5b) discusses the importance of not detracting from the land of Israel. While that discussion is in the context of delineating parts of a field that may contain a corpse, the underlying sentiment transcends the local discussion. But while so many of us see that Gemara as an ideal, Motti lives it every day.
As I wrote, Motti’s story will most likely never make it into a book. But it’s a story full of leadership lessons. He has a vision of a Jewish Israel and has lived his life in a manner that helps realize it. He understands that there are no quick fixes and he is in it for the long haul. He realizes that while life has setbacks, they are really just opportunities to grow stronger and become better. Most importantly Motti is a modern-day Elkana. His heroism and leadership are off the radar. There’s nothing particularly glorious about rebuilding a house. But it’s the hundreds and thousands of simple people like Motti, who have shown their own form of quiet leadership throughout our history that have helped guarantee the survival of the Jewish people. Mi K’Amcha Yisrael.
