A funeral in Jerusalem

It's 3:30 AM and I just got back from a funeral here in Jerusalem.

A few days ago, a 21-year-old Palestinian terrorist deliberately drove his car into a crowd of commuters at a train station very near where I live.  After crashing his car, he then tried to escape on foot but was shot by a policeman who happened to be in the area.  In that attack, a 3-month old baby girl, Chaya Zissel Braun, was killed.  The attack happened about 6 PM, the baby was dead by 8 PM and her funeral was held that night.  (In the Jewish tradition, the dead are buried as soon as possible, which often means on the same day.  Sometimes, if people die late in the day, the funeral might be delayed to the following day.  A custom specific to Jerusalem, though, does not allow for the dead to remain overnight and so funerals and burials in Jerusalem are held at night, too.  This was the case with the baby, Chaya Zissel Braun.)  

Her parents had apparently tried for several years to have a baby until, finally, Chaya Zissel was born just a few months ago.  She was their only child.  The parents took her to the Kotel (the Western Wall) for her first visit there.  It was on the way home from the Kotel that she was killed.  (Her last photo,,,  http://unitedwithisrael.org/last-moments-of-baby-girls-life-at-western-wall-before-brutally-murdered-by-hamas/)  I wanted to go to her funeral but didn't know the details and so I didn't go.  

Tonight, at 11:15 PM, I heard on the radio that another victim of that attack had died.  Karen Yemima Mosquera, originally from Ecuador, died tonight of her injuries.  She was 22.  She had only very recently converted to Judaism and may have been a descendant of the Marranos (Anussim) of Spain, some five centuries ago.  The Israeli embassy flew her mother and sister here after the attack; tonight they attended her funeral.

People shouldn't die alone so I decided to attend the funeral, even though I didn't know the deceased and hadn't even heard of her until the announcement on the news tonight.  The funeral began at Shamgar (where my father's funeral was held and Rabbi Groner's, as well) and continued to the burial on Har HaZeitim, the Mount of Olives, the ancient Jewish burial ground in Jerusalem.  There were many people in attendance, quite a crowd.  Some, like me, didn't know the deceased but decided that they should escort the dead on their final journey.

First two Rabbis eulogized Karen Yemima, in Hebrew.  Then Nir Barkat, Mayor of Jerusalem, spoke (in Hebrew and then in English)  Another Rabbi spoke, too, in Hebrew (which I understand) and in Spanish, too (which I don't).  He brought up the Talmudic question of who is greater: one who does something they are not required to do or one who is required to do it?  One view holds that the one who is not required to do something but does so anyways is greater because they are doing something of their own goodness, without being required to do so.  The other view holds that one who is required to do something is greater because they must struggle with their Evil Inclination which tries to convince them not to do what they must do.  This Rabbi then explained that Yemima had both to her credit: she had no obligation at all to become Jewish but did so anyways and then, once she was Jewish, was also required to keep the 613 Mitzvot (commandments) required of all Jews (and the thousands of fine details involved, too).  This makes her the greatest of all.

The ambassador of Ecuador spoke, as did some other Rabbis.  A bit after 1:30 AM, the funeral procession began, on its way from Shamgar to the Mount of Olives.  I headed out to walk home.  However, outside, someone was offering a ride in their car to the Mount of Olives, to the burial.  I hadn't planned on going there, too, and it was late, but I quickly decided to go with these two strangers.  One was a woman from Jerusalem and the other was some guy who lives out in the desert, near the Dead Sea.  He heard about this on the radio, like some of the rest of us, and decided to drive the distance into Jerusalem to attend this funeral of someone he didn't know.

I have been to the Mount of Olives quite a few times before and know the way, but they were guided by Waze and went by another route.  The Arabs in Jerusalem have been excitable in recent weeks and have attacked Jews driving to the Mount of Olives repeatedly (in the daytime!) so I wasn't sure about going at night.  We also didn't know quite where the burial would be held; it's quite a large burial ground.

We eventually found other cars going there (Jerusalem is very quiet at night, otherwise) and ended up near the top of the Mount of Olives.  There was quite a crowd in attendance.  We had to walk some distance, too, and in the dark sky I noticed a large, white blimp hanging silently.  The police have been using these to monitor what's going on in Arab neighborhoods and to quickly get the riot squads to where they are needed.  At the burial site on the Mount of Olives, there were soldiers guarding us.  Some were using target-lights mounted on their rifles to check if anyone might be creeping up on the distant walls, perhaps wanting to attack us.  To the Arabs, even Jews going to a funeral are targets.  (The cemetery is vandalized regularly by Arabs living nearby.)

Even though this was a road into the cemetery that I was not familiar with, I knew the surrounding area.  Not far away I once found a very large tombstone and went to investigate it.  It was so large because four people are buried under the one stone.  A young mother, about 26, as I recall, was burned to death together with three of her children, by a firebomb thrown onto a bus by a Palestinian terrorist.  They were all killed on the same day and were buried together.  Just a few days ago, I found a large tombstone at another cemetery, a large circle with a jagged break down the middle.  That tombstone covered the graves of a husband and wife who were killed together by Palestinian terrorists a few years ago.  There are many such tombstones in Israel, I'm afraid.

The news media wherever you are might ignore Karen Yemima Mosquera.  You might not otherwise hear about her. After all, she was just one of many, many victims of Palestinian Jihadi terrorism.  Tonight, though, some people who didn't know her but cared, came to pay their last respects.  

It's very late at night now and tomorrow is another day.  For some of us, at least.