Summary: <p> </p> <p> I would like to start with something lovely, the most beautiful words in the world: <em>I love you forever</em>. Think of the people and places that have inspired these magical words.</p> <p> I have a question. <em>How long is forever</em>? How long do we get to keep who and what we love forever? </p> <p> This past Monday, our beloved friend and teacher in Jerusalem, Micah Goodman, was speaking to 100 Conservative Rabbis about what is going on in Israel, and he said something about forever love that is so quintessentially Micah. I had never heard it before. But once he said it, it was obviously true.</p> <p> Micah observed that there is a paradox about what we love forever. Namely, if we assume that what we <em>love </em>forever, we <em>will have</em> forever, then we will <em>not </em>have it forever; we are at serious risk of losing it. But if we worry that what we love forever we may lose, it may not last forever, and if we work hard on preserving it, there is a higher chance that we can hold onto it. <em>If we assume it, we lose it</em>. If we don’t assume it, if we worry that we could lose it, we have a higher chance of keeping it.</p> <p> The most obvious example is marriage. When a couple gets married, they pledge to love one another forever. What all of us who have been married for any length of time know is that this pledge is not self-executing; it cannot be sustained by the power and beauty of the chuppah; it must be sustained by both spouses investing in their marriage every day. It must be sustained by both spouses making their marriage their highest priority. Taking a marriage for granted, taking <em>anything</em> for granted, puts what we love in grave jeopardy.</p> <p> Micah’s lens for understanding Israel today is the paradox of forever love. </p> <p> </p>
