They Bageled, I Blew It

I was speaking with a nurse in a doctor’s office last Friday when mid-conversation, responding to something I said, she used the word “bashert.” The word made no sense in context and it was clear as she said it that her excitement to use the word in conversation with me far surpassed her understanding of what it meant.

My appointment concluded and I took the elevator down to exit the building. As it reached the ground floor, I turned to the other man in the elevator and wished him a good day. He responded, “you too,” and quickly added, “You are probably running to be home before sundown.” I checked the time, and it was 11:00 in the morning. I smiled and said, “Yup, need to head out,” wished him a great weekend, and went to my car.

As I drove back to Shul, I was reflecting on what happened and became riddled with guilt and shame. Two Jews had just “bageled” me, they used lingo or references to signal to me they are members of the tribe and what did I do? Nothing. I wasn’t rude, but I also didn’t jump on the opportunity, I didn’t follow through, create a connection, or plug them in.

The Gemara (Nidda 30b) teaches that throughout our gestation in the womb, we are studying Torah with a designated angel. When we are born, we are tapped on the lip and caused to forget what we learned. The Beis HaLevi explains that Torah can’t be spoon-fed to us, it can’t be casually downloaded into our brain or come easy. We have to work hard, toil, and earn our Torah knowledge. And so we are caused to forget and start from scratch when we are born.

But why be taught Torah in the womb to begin with if we are only going to be caused to forget? Rav Soloveitchik explains that while we forget the specifics of what we learned, the Torah that every Jew studied leaves an imprint and impression on the Jewish soul. It plants a pintele yid, a Torah spark, a Jewish identity inside us. When we are later exposed to Torah, it feels familiar, it seems like something we have studied before.

Without being overly dramatic, as I reflected on the interactions, I realized that two yiddishe neshamos, their holy Jewish souls, were screaming out, seeking a connection, and because of my reaction (or lack thereof), they came up empty.

These interactions were not isolated, they have been happening more and I don’t believe it is a coincidence. The events of October 7, and Israel’s ongoing war since, has awakened many Jews. The hearts of even the most secular Jews were broken. The pain all Jews share and the concern for the hostages and soldiers we have in common have made us feel connected not only with our Jewish and brothers in Israel and around us, but with the Jewish soul inside us. As antisemitism has exploded and Jew hatred has proliferated, some are asking themselves, what does it mean to be a Jew.

In concerning ways, the Jewish people are in crisis, but every crisis also creates an opportunity. We have a window now, but we don’t know how long it will stay open. We can and we should engage our fellow Jews, our brothers and sisters who are equally targeted with hate, to lean into their Judaism, learn more, explore more, practice more, live with more Jewish pride. Our enemies have created a Jewish awakening, and we must leverage it and take advantage of it.

The time is ripe for a campaign and coordinated effort to challenge our fellow Jews: If they hate us for being Jewish, find out more about what it means to be Jewish, why it matters, and what Jewish values and a Jewish life looks like.

The pintele yid, the beautiful, holy Jewish souls around us are waking up, feeling physically threatened but also spiritually dehydrated and malnourished. Our Jewish brothers and sisters are thirsty and hungry. They are increasingly “bageling” us. Their neshamas are screaming out to us. The question is are we ready, what will we respond, will we take advantage of the opportunity, and rise to the moment?

What could I have done when the nurse and man in the elevator were so interested in conveying to me that they are Jewish? I could have spoken to them about their Jewish identity and background and learned more about their upbringing and education. I could have engaged them on Israel and antisemitism. I should have connected them with our BRS Outreach Rabbi. I regret not inviting them to our Friday Night Live, to our Partners in Jewish Life, or to my home for a Shabbos meal.

If we don’t have a plan, if we don’t know what we would do or who we would connect someone with, when we are pitched by a fellow Jew we are going to strike out. Be thoughtful and plan. If you don’t have the vocabulary to engage a fellow Jew who is not affiliated or practicing, learn it. The number one reason our fellow Jews haven’t experienced a Shabbos meal is because they were never asked. Don’t wait to be bageled. Think of a co-worker, neighbor, family member and invite them. Gain greater understanding of what we do at our Shabbos tables so you can confidently host and answer the natural questions that will arise about why we say kiddush, wash before bread, and why we aren’t on our phones.

How can we say Avinu Malkeinu, address Hashem as our Father, and not feel his pain that the overwhelming majority of His children are estranged from Him. We must feel the pain of the Shechina, we must feel our pain that our people are not whole, and we should feel the pain of our fellow Jews who don’t even know they are in pain.

As threatening and dangerous as antisemitism has become, it pales in comparison to the negative and destructive impact of assimilation and intermarriage. Israel, antisemitism, and the Jewish people are in the headlines daily. We have an opportunity to do something about it. Next time you are “bageled,” what will you do?

Do They See Our Sounds?

Every year, about 11 million children in the United States participate in school-level spelling bees. The most prestigious competition is the annual Scripps National Bee that has been held since 1925. The words have gotten progressively more difficult over the decades as the competition has stiffened. In 1940, the winning word was “therapy,” whereas last year’s was “psammophile.” (It means a plant or animal that prefers or thrives in sandy areas, in case you were not aware.)

Indian Americans comprise about 1% of the U.S. population, yet for the last 20 years, they have dominated the Scripps Spelling Bee. Two weeks ago, a 12-year-old Floridian named Bruhat Soma became the 29^th (of 35) Indian American champion since 1999. What can explain this phenomenon? Are they on spelling steroids? Are Indian American’s brains wired to spell better than anyone else?

וְכל־הָעָם֩ רֹאִ֨ים אֶת־הַקּוֹלֹ֜ת וְאֶת־הַלַּפִּידִ֗ם וְאֵת֙ ק֣וֹל הַשֹּׁפָ֔ר וְאֶת־הָהָ֖ר עָשֵׁ֑ן וַיַּ֤רְא הָעָם֙ וַיָּנֻ֔עוּ וַיַּֽעַמְד֖וּ מֵֽרָחֹֽק׃ “All the people witnessed the thunder and lightning, the blare of the horn and the mountain smoking; and when the people saw it, they fell back and stood at a distance.”

Matan Torah remains the most seminal event, not only in Jewish history, but in all of history. The Creator and Master of the Universe shared His blueprint for creation, handed over His manual for meaningful living, opened up His personal diary that is the description of His essence, and the world has never been the same since. Empowered and inspired with the tools of Torah, the Jewish people have transformed the world in so many ways.

That event, that moment, was uniquely momentous; yet, of all the miracles and special moments, the Torah doesn’t mandate that we commemorate it. Hashem took us out of Egypt, and we have Pesach and a mitzvah to tell the story, and to do so over matzah and marror. He took us through the desert, and we have a Yom Tov of Sukkos where we sit in Sukkahs and remember the booths our ancestors sat in, exposed to the elements, under the Divine protection. On Chanukah we light the Chanukah candles, and on Purim we listen to the Megillah. And yet, this greatest moment in our history has no mitzvah, no ritual or ceremony, no commemoration? Yes, the Torah does command us to celebrate a Yom Tov 50 days after the second day of Pesach, but nowhere does it mention that this holiday commemorates the revelation at Har Sinai,

In his Mishnas Rav Aharon, Rav Aharon Kotler explains that the miracles of yetzias mitzrayim were one-time events, parts of history that need to be remembered, recalled and commemorated so that we can come as close as possible to imagining what it looked like because it was so long ago. The same is true for Sukkos, Chanukah, etc. However, the revelation of Har Sinai doesn’t need remembering or commemoration because it is ongoing, it is still happening every day.

All over the world, every time a Jew opens a sefer, attends a shiur, sits down with a chavrusa, plays a Torah podcast, or engages with Torah in any form—the conversation continues, Hashem is still speaking to us. And that is why 40 years after the Torah was given, in Moshe’s soliloquy to the Jewish people, reflecting back on their short history to that point, he describes Matan Torah as קול גדול ולא יסף. Kol gadol means a great sound, but what does “lo yasaf” mean? Says Unkelus, לא פסק, a great voice that hasn’t stopped. He is still speaking, the conversation never ended. Are we listening, are we participating?

When Rav Meir Shapiro zt”l, the founder of the Daf Yomi, was seven years old, he found his mother crying and he asked her why. She explained that she was terribly sad because his melamed was scheduled to come that day but didn’t show up. The young boy didn’t understand why that moved her to tears. She explained, “You don’t understand Meir’l because you are too young, but my son, I want you to always remember, if you miss a day of learning, it cannot be replaced, it cannot be made up.”

Rav Meir Shapiro’s mother understood something so fundamental, so basic and so core to our people – כי הם חיינו ואורך ימינו, Torah is not information, it is not a set of facts, laws, it isn’t part of or commemorating history. Torah learning is not just a way of life, it is what provides life, sustains life and nourishes life. Without it we simply cannot live.

Rav Meir Shapiro’s mother’s tears left an indelible impression and when the opportunity presented itself, he introduced a system and initiative which would ensure we would never miss a day of learning in our lives. It is estimated that today there are more than 300,000 people around the world who learn the Daf Yomi daily. Rav Meir Shapiro and his wife didn’t have biological children, but make no mistake, each blatt of Gemara learned daily by Jews everywhere is his continuity and legacy, each of the devotees of the Daf his progeny.

Our Judaism must not be commemorative, our commitment to Torah must not be a casual connection because of a past. It must be vibrant, dynamic, alive, passionate in the present.

The Midrash tells us that when Hashem gave the Torah, כפה עליהם הר כגגית, He held it over our heads and said accept it or שם תהא קבורתכם, there you will be buried. Many ask, shouldn’t it say פה, here, not שם, there? If Hashem is going to threaten us, shouldn’t He get it right?

I believe, and we are sadly seeing empirically all around us, that if you don’t feel the weight of Torah over your head, the responsibility of a deep, profound and passionate commitment to it personally, you may not spiritually die in that moment. Perhaps you can go a generation or two. But שם, down the line, a few generations in, it will catch up. If we negotiate with our Yiddishkeit, if we pick and choose, if we are casual about it, down the road it will come crashing down on our head.

Do you know why Indian Americans children dominate the Spelling Bee? As explained in one of many articles exploring the phenomenon, it is because Indian American parents value and celebrate spelling well.

וְכל־הָעָם֩ רֹאִ֨ים אֶת־הַקּוֹלֹ֜ת – At Har Sinai we saw the sounds, we didn’t just hear instructions, we saw a vibrant image of a passionate inspired life. Indian American children don’t just hear their parents talk about spelling, they see the value of spelling, they see themselves as spelling champions and then they become that. For them it is more than just a competition, it is a true and genuine mission.

What do our children see? What are we celebrating for our children, for our family, for ourselves? Are we celebrating the things and accomplishments that we truly value? Here is why that question is critical: Because whatever you celebrate, that’s what you’ll value and that is what you children will value and sacrifice for.

Indian Americans celebrate spelling and they have therefore dominated the Spelling Bee. L’havdil, Rav Meir Shapiro’s mother celebrated Torah learning every day and she had a son who introduced the world to the most popular program of daily Torah learning in history. What do you celebrate, what does your family hear you talk about, see you care about, watch you invested in?

Israel’s war against her enemies and the rise of antisemitism have posed formidable challenges but they also bring an opportunity. How we react, what we are doing about it, how focused we are on the fate of our people, can and will leave an indelible and enduring impression on our children and grandchildren.

If we want our families to be passionate, practicing, and proud Jews, living and learning Torah and loving Israel when they are שם, down the road, they need to רֹאִ֨ים אֶת־הַקּוֹלֹ֜ת, not only hear, but see our voices in action now.

When is Your Next Trip to Israel?

Not everyone can travel this summer. For some, it is difficult to take time off, for others the high cost is a barrier, and for others, there are physical or health challenges that make it impossible.

However, there are many people who will take advantage of children being off from school, of life slowing down, and of accumulated vacation days to travel. The question is: to where?

When a person is blessed to have living parents, he does not use each vacation to visit them at the exclusion of everywhere else. When one’s parents are healthy and well, it is perfectly appropriate to balance seeing and visiting parents with travelling to other places and gaining new experiences. But if a person’s parent was sick, convalescing and recuperating, it would be inappropriate, insensitive, and unthinkable to travel elsewhere or go on a vacation without having at least visited the sick parent at the first available opportunity.

Israel is our mother. For the last eight months she has been recovering from a significant trauma and she isn’t out of the woods yet. It is incumbent on us to visit her if we haven’t already.

The 5^th bracha of the Sheva Berachos we recite under a chupa is “Sos tasis v’sageil ha’akara b’kibutz baneha l’socha b’simcha. Baruch atah Hashem, m’sameach Tzion b’vaneha – May the barren one rejoice and be glad as her children are joyfully gathered to her. Blessed are You, Hashem, Who gladdens Zion with her children.”

What is the connection between the Chosson and Kallah and Yerushalayim? Former Chief Sefardi Rabbi of Israel Rav Eliyahu Bakshi-Doron writes (Binyan Av) that the source of this Beracha is the pasuk in Yeshayahu (54), “rani akara lo yalada, shout baren one who has not born a child.” Yerushalayim in its state of destruction is likened to a woman who has not given birth but whose happiness will come when she welcomes children into her midst.

At that milestone moment, as two individuals enter a covenant binding them together, they are to have an awareness not only of their biological parents, of their physical origins, but of their spiritual mother, Yerushalayim, and their metaphysical origins. Just as the bond with parents is permanent and can’t be broken, so too our connection with our spiritual mother, Yerushalayim, is eternal.

The gemara (Kesubos 75a) teaches:

״וּלְצִיּוֹן יֵאָמַר אִישׁ וְאִישׁ יוּלַּד בָּהּ וְהוּא יְכוֹנְנֶהָ עֶלְיוֹן״. אָמַר רַבִּי מְיָישָׁא בַּר בְּרֵיהּ דְּרַבִּי יְהוֹשֻׁעַ בֶּן לֵוִי: אֶחָד הַנּוֹלָד בָּהּ, וְאֶחָד הַמְצַפֶּה לִרְאוֹתָה.

The pasuk states: “And of Zion it shall be said, this man and this man were born in her, and the Most High shall establish her” (Psalms 87:5). Rabbi Meyasha, son of the son of Rabbi Yehoshua ben Levi, said: Both the man who was actually born in Zion and the one who looks forward to seeing her are equally considered sons of Zion.

Rav Bakshi-Doron writes: “It is not the geographical place where one is born that determines if someone is a ben Yerushalayim, but it is the existential spiritual identity. Therefore, whoever longs to see her, it is as if they were born to her.”

As families of soldiers tragically continue to sit shiva, as hostages remain in enemy hands, as thousands remains displaced from their homes and as countless soldiers are still recuperating in hospitals and rehab facilities, the question for those who don’t live in Israel is, are you a מְצַפֶּה לִרְאוֹתָה, do you long to see her, to visit her, to be with her?

Some have had the chance to be in Israel since October 7^th, others have longed to go but haven’t been able to pull it off yet, but all of us should be thinking about and planning for when we can go next. Not “if” we will go but when and what it will take to make it happen.

I received the follow note from someone I went to Israel with in March:

Just wanted to start by saying thank you. Thank you for putting this together and getting me involved.

As you know it’s been some time since I’ve been to Israel – 25 years. It was a real struggle to decide if I would come on this trip. Was this how I wanted my first time in Israel in a quarter of a century to be? Without my family? For such a short visit? Wartime tourism? It seemed macabre and voyeuristic. It’s not what I imagined it would be for my return to the holy land. But thankfully my wife pushed me and I relented.

You asked how some would respond to a drasha about telling people to come here, and I’ll tell you this: there are many legitimate reasons why a person cannot travel to Israel. For 20 years I could never take time off from work, using every vacation day for Yom Tov. Also financially it’s a huge expense for so many. But there is another reason that people have – I know I did – in the back of their minds: I want my Israel trip to be perfect. When the weather is good, when the crowds are small, when flights are cheap, when the kids are off, etc. and with that in mind it took an extra 4 years for me to just come home.

This is what was running through my mind on the flight up. I felt like it was a mistake, I shouldn’t come to gawk at the soldiers or the displaced families like going to a museum or sideshow. I should come when I can be with my entire family and do all the things that people do: Kotel, Masada, tunnel tours, Ein Gedi, Eilat, etc.

But I was wrong. This experience was something that I will never forget. Not only because of the incredible access, the people we met, or the places we went, but because we were able to be with Israel instead of just going to Israel.

Being here, with the people, in the land, helping and bringing smiles, was all the experience I really ever needed. Driving through didn’t feel like the endless orange groves on the way to Disney because everywhere you turn, the land comes alive. Efes Damim, Kiryat Yereim, Har Hacarmel. These are real places that carry significant value to us. Coming here, even now, is truly meaningful. Even if I can’t splash around in Ein Gedi with my kids.

But not just for me, the trip was meaningful for those we visited and met. We sat in the van with our guide, Eli, when everyone had left and we talked to him about us visiting and being here. How did he view this kind of “tourism”? He got a little emotional and told us we had no idea what it means to him, his family, and everyday Israelis. Forget that it gives him parnasah, he said that after spending a few days with us, that he now knows that we CARE. And not just about soldiers and memorials, and the horrors, but about Am Yisrael, be’eretz Yisrael, al pi torat yisrael. That it’s not like going to the zoo to see, but we are checking in on something we love, on our brothers, on our people. He talked about our group every night with his wife and she said to him that she loves us for what we gave him. She pointed out that after 5 months of being unable to express himself he was finally opening up and talking. He felt like he was spending the days with family. The cynical part of everyone wants to believe this trip is selfish, and I did too. But it’s not true. It really is a give and take.

I know you wanted to know through my eyes how this would feel. But to be honest, I don’t recognize anything. Literally everything is different. But I knew it would be. Time and change don’t wait for anyone, even me.

And that’s my takeaway. If you can afford to go, don’t put it off. Don’t put your trip to Israel on a pedestal that it needs to be perfect or you won’t go. Because before you know it, 25 years will go by, and you’ll wonder what could have been.

When you mother needs a visit, you don’t wait for everything to be perfect, you figure out a way to show up. It isn’t easy for everyone. Many don’t have family, a place to stay, a way to get around, connections to volunteer or the finances to go. Those are not small things and shouldn’t be minimized. But if there is a will, there will be a way, maybe not tomorrow or next month but a plan for somewhere down the line, hopefully in the not-too-distant future.

If you can, go because our mother needs us. But much more importantly, go because we need our mother.

Turn Your Rage into Outrage

The internet has become a very angry place and “rage bait” influencers are in large part to blame. More clicks means more money and the more enraged you can make people, the more they will click. If you’re not familiar, “rage-baiting” is described as posting “a video specifically designed to make you mad so that you interact more with the video.” Social media platforms design algorithms that prey on the temptation towards rage and then draw people into rage loops that continuously present anger-inducing material (and keep users engaged with their platforms). Research shows that people are far more likely to share or echo angry sentiments than content that elicits any other emotion, including joy. Some suggest our generation is addicted to rage manifesting itself on our roads, in our relationships, and in our mental and physical health.

Since October 7, if you love Israel and the Jewish people, you don’t need an internet connection or access to social media to be filled with rage. It isn’t manufactured or manipulated or ‘baited”; it is quite merited. Indeed, over the last seven months, there have been so many rage-inducing comments, people, events, and things it is hard to know which is worst.

For example, consider the last ten days alone:

· The UN held a moment of silence for the Butcher of Tehran.

· The US Senate Chaplain offered prayers for Iran for the same loss.

· The US State Department also sent condolences to Tehran.

· The ICC equated evil Hamas leader Yahya Sinwar with Prime Minister Bibi Netanyahu.

· Germany, the country that perpetrated a genocide and the greatest atrocity in history, said they would issue an arrest warrant for Prime Minister Bibi Netanyahu.

· The IJC ordered Israel to stop its Rafah operation.

· Nobel laureate Maria Ressa delivered Harvard’s commencement speech filled with vile, explicit antisemitic tropes.

· New, horrific video was released of female IDF soldiers being taken by Hamas on Oct. 7.

· Bodies of hostages who were killed on October 7th were recovered.

· Israel continues to be accused of causing a famine in Gaza despite a new study that found food supply to Gaza is more than sufficient for the population’s needs and only 54 percent of the pallets transferred into Gaza were dispatched by UN and humanitarian agencies operating in Gaza.

· Ireland, Spain and Norway said they will recognize a Palestinian state.

· Israel was falsely accused of intentionally targeting civilians in a refugee camp in Rafah even though they struck two senior Hamas in the Tel Sultan area of western Rafah which is outside of the “humanitarian zone.” Moreover, the IDF released an intercepted phone call between two Gaza residents in which they suggest that shrapnel from an Israeli airstrike caused the detonation of Hamas munitions hidden inside or near the refugee camp.

Sadly, there is no shortage of things to be enraged over. But here is the thing – rage isn’t productive, rage is never the solution. Rage is forwarding videos and ranting at the Shabbos table. It may make you feel better (it likely won’t), but it surely won’t actually change anything.

Don’t feel rage. Instead, get outraged. What is the difference? Rage destroys, it consumes, it obliterates. Outrage is constructive, it produces, it repairs. Rage is a lower brain reaction, it is a pure emotion with no intellectual or cognitive driver. Outrage is a healthy reaction to an outrageous event or outrageous behavior that calls for a response, for action. Rage demolishes and outrage builds. Rage is part of the problem. Outrage leads to the solution.

Don’t indulge the emotion of rage. Channel your outrage into taking action, into being part of the response. You don’t need to pick up a weapon and enter Gaza or walk through a Hamas homeless shelter at Harvard to be doing something. For example, write letters. This matters. We recently hosted Congressman Ritchie Torres on Behind the Bima and he shared how important writing, even to our friends and allies, is:

Look, members of Congress are human. You know, we have morale and we need motivation. You know, we’re flooded with hateful calls because of our support for Israel. And so I feel like those of us in the pro-Israel community have to be as visibly and vocally pro-Israel as the other side is anti-Israel.

We have to match the intensity of the other side because in politics, intensity is often destiny. And so I would encourage people to engage with their members of congress. Lobby their members of congress and attempt to persuade them if they’re wavering or if they’re on the wrong side of the issue and then provide moral support to to your allies.

You know were it not for the moral support that I’ve gotten from the Jewish community, this moment would be an emotional struggle for me because I paid a heavy political and personal price.

There is a wonderful WhatsApp group called Letters and Emails that posts sample texts, links or email addresses of whom we should thank each day for standing with the Jewish community and Israel and whom we should protest. You can shoot off letters and emails while waiting at carpool, over your lunch break, on the checkout line at the supermarket. It is easy and organized and there is no excuse not to be part of the movement that is making a real difference. Join it here.

Two examples just from the last week:

Ms. Rachel, a popular YouTuber and social media personality with 10 million subscribers, put out a video last week announcing she would be sending money to help the poor children of Gaza without any mention of Israel, Oct 7, or the hostages. She was bombarded with letters and a few days later put out a new video praying for all children and innocent people, including in Israel and including the hostages.

The Mayor of Doral, Christi Fraga, proposed a resolution calling for a ceasefire in Gaza. She got a deluge of letters and online attention, much of it organized by a BRS member. Soon after she held a press conference to correct the resolution and now stands with Israel. Her turnaround earned headlines like, “Florida mayor praised for ‘courage, character’ after apology for supporting permanent ceasefire.” These are but a few examples of how channeling outrage into advocacy and outspokenness can make a difference.

In the introduction to Chovos HaTalmidim, the Piascentzner Rebbe, Hy”d writes to parents and educators about how qualities and characteristics aren’t inherently good or bad but rather need to be directed positively. He pleads with them not to extinguish or eliminate the fire inside young people but to channel it productively:

Are the principal and teacher able to imagine the great benefit they can bring out from the bad temper of the angry child when they delve inside him and draw him near, so that his heart and soul burn with self-sacrifice for God? His anger will turn into holy fire – every act of service will burn like glowing coals; all of his words spoken for God, in Torah study and prayer, will be with a voice that thunders and draws out fiery flames. And see the explanation of the Alter Rebbe, R. Shneur Zalman of Liadi in his Siddur on Kegavna – and these are his words: The passion of anger that spins off from the passion in the heart, and any man that is angry by nature, are prone to be enthused with the glowing fire of fervor for God’s service.

No matter what is happening in the world, no matter who or what tries to bait you, always remember, rage is not all the rage. Take that fire in your belly and instead of indulging the feeling of rage, channel it into outrage and action. Be enthused with the glowing fire of fervor to fight for the Jewish people, to stand with Israel and to proudly practice and promote Hashem and His Torah.

Write letters, make phone calls, donate money. If we refuse to be indifferent or apathetic, if we find our voices and our influence, if we are on fire, we can dispel much of the darkness and light up the world together.

Chosen, But for What?

We just finished celebrating a Yom Tov during which we said in davening and Kiddush, over and over again, Asher bachar banu mi’kol am, You have chosen us from all the nations. We may have said it, but it sure doesn’t feel like it.

If you consider the current condition of the Jews in the world, you can easily fall into despair. Israel’s ongoing war against Hamas, the continued captivity of our precious hostages, and the unrelenting threat of Iran, are exhausting first and foremost for our brothers and sisters in Israel, but also, in a smaller but significant way, for all who care desperately about our homeland and our people. The metastasizing antisemitic cancer rapidly spreading throughout college campuses, the systemic hate of the Jew even among professors and administrators of institutes of “higher” learning, the distortions and lies of the media, the bias and discrimination of Jews by members of Congress, can easily breed a sense of hopelessness. When “friends” and “allies” use the right words and issue eloquent statements but fail to take meaningful action, you can’t help but wonder, how will this end?

The post-October 7 energy of being part a united, tenacious people, determined to defeat our enemies, restore security and fight for peace for all decent people feels like it is dissipating and giving way to the cruel reality of what feels like an endless existential loneliness and isolation. The adrenaline that powered our soldiers and their families in Israel, that energized protests and advocacy in America, and that inspired contributions and donations from all over, is draining, potentially leaving in its place fatigue, fear, and despondency.

One expects the UN to unfairly condemn Israel, and it would be upsetting but certainly not surprising if the International Criminal Court (ICC) issues an arrest warrant for Prime Minister Netanyahu, but when America withholds a weapons shipment to Israel while the IDF is bearing the burden and paying the human price of fighting a shared savage enemy, it leaves Jews and those who love Israel wondering if we have anyone to turn to or count on.

If this is what being the chosen people feels like, maybe we can be less chosen and more safe and secure.

As we were marking Yom HaShoah, the day designated to remember the six million Kedoshim, the martyrs of the Holocaust, and to honor the survivors on whose shoulders we stand, the IDF began a long-awaited invasion of Rafah to battle our current enemy and to rid the world of the modern continuation of the ideology of the Nazis.

Reflecting on the confluence of these two events, I thought about the Jewish condition in the world 80 years ago, what it is today, and how one may be able to educate us about the other.

The Klausenberger Rebbe, Rav Yekusial Yehuda Halberstam (1905-1994), was taken to Auschwitz, where his wife and 11 children perished. He survived the war and came to America, where he remarried, had more children, and built a grand Chassidic movement. He moved to Israel where he built a thriving community in Netanya and established the Laniado hospital. He was a truly extraordinary individual and a brand new Artscroll biography tells his remarkable life story.

I have seen different versions of the following story, but the way it is told by Rav YY Jacobson, in the concentration camp, the SS guards began taunting and teasing the Klausenberger Rebbe, pulling his beard and pushing him around. The vile soldiers trained their guns on him as the commander began to speak. “Tell us, Rabbi,” sneered the officer, “do you really believe that you are the Chosen People?”

The soldiers guarding the crowd howled in laughter. But the Rebbe did not. In a serene voice, he answered loud and clear, “Most certainly.” The officer became enraged. He lifted his rifle above his head and sent it crashing on the head of the Rebbe. The Rebbe fell to the ground. There was a rage in the officer’s voice. “Do you still think you are the Chosen People?” he yelled.

Once again, the Rebbe nodded his head and said, “Yes, we are.” The officer became infuriated. He kicked the rebbe in the chin and repeated. “You stupid Jew, you lie here on the ground, beaten and humiliated, in a puddle of blood. What makes you think that you are the Chosen People?”

With his mouth gushing blood, the Rebbe replied, “As long as we are not the ones kicking, beating, and murdering innocent people, we are the chosen people.”

Before our precious soldiers entered Rafah, they did several things that no other army in the world does. American leaders and the media told us that it would take weeks to evacuate the refugees from Rafah, but within three hours, over 100,000 refugees from East Rafah were safely relocated. They said it would take weeks for the IDF to enter Rafah from the moment the evacuation began but the IDF, in a staggered operation, entered Rafah within a few hours with no civilian casualties.

The IDF did this by not only announcing they were coming, they not only notified civilians to relocate, but helped them. The IDF dropped leaflets, sent text messages, and made phone calls. A recording of one of those calls was released and it reflects the contrast of our peoples:

IDF: We must do everything within our means to prevent any fatalities.

Gazan: We want to die and our children also must die.

IDF: No, God forbid.

Gazan: We love death the way you love life.

As long as we love life, even while they celebrate death, we are the chosen people. As long as we have the most moral and ethical army in history and are fighting the most moral war ever, despite opposing vicious, savage, immoral monsters, we are the chosen people.

Before the soldiers entered, they gathered to do what the Torah instructs Jews to do before going out to battle: they prayed, asking Hashem for victory and for peace. As long as while our enemies pray for war, we pray for peace, we are the chosen people.

We don’t rely on the media, America, the international community, or the UN to know or feel that we are the chosen people. It is up to our rising to the moment, to be proud, practicing, moral, ethical, Torah Jews, to demonstrate we are indeed the chosen people.

The Klausenberger Rebbe suffered devastating loss. He was knocked down, but far from out. He never lost his faith in Hashem, his resolve, or his mission. Yes, he suffered and he grieved, but then he put one foot in front of the other and he not only survived, but he thrived. He did it by never doubting for a moment that he was a member of the people chosen by Hashem. We grieve as well now, we have suffered, but as members of that same people, that same Father, with that same mission, we too will thrive, no matter who stands with us, supports us, or understands us.

Picking Up What We Dropped and Holding On Tight

More than 2,600 independent businesses are located in the Diamond District, and nearly all of them are related to diamonds or fine jewelry. Raffi Stepanian originally worked for those businesses, making a living as a freelance diamond setter but after a few years, instead of being found inside the stores, he spent his time outside of them. Stepanian crawls on his hands and knees on the sidewalks armed with tweezers and a butter knife digging through cracks in the sidewalk, in search of tiny bits of valuables that most everyone would otherwise miss. Sometimes, he’ll find a pearl that fell off a broken necklace or a small diamond that came loose from a ring; other times, he’ll come across the gold backing from an earring, or some bits of gems shaved off in the shaping process by jewelry makers. For years, Raffi made a living by picking up what other people dropped, lost or forgot about.

The Torah describes Pesach as a night of protection – Layl shimurim hu la’Hashem. Rashi interprets “shimurim” in the sense of anticipation or preservation, commenting that since the creation of the world Hashem had been waiting to redeem His people. However, we apply this expression in the present, not just as part of the description of the past. Treating Seder night as a “Layl shimurim” has practical Halachic implications. Hashem’s presence is felt more intensely on Pesach night and protects us from danger. We therefore leave our doors unlocked, leave out part of krias shema al ha’mita, we don’t use salt with the matzah, and more.

But Layl Shimurim has implications beyond the first night of Pesach. In his Haggadah Beis Yaakov, the Izbitcher Rebbe has a magnificent explanation of this phrase. One of the challenges of life is the fleeting nature of our experiences, our relationships, our memories, and our feelings. Life is so fast-paced and chaotic that yesterday’s experiences are quickly forgotten, and today’s amazing conversations or moments will be gone by tomorrow. It is so hard to hold on to the feelings and experiences.

Pesach, says the Izbitcher, is the Layl Shimurim – it is a reservoir of lost things. Pesach is a time to recover lost feelings, thoughts, emotions, relationships, and experiences. On Pesach we reclaim what we thought was lost, we reconnect with what we thought was gone forever.

On Pesach we launch our count of the Omer which begins with the offering of the Korban Omer. On the second day of Pesach, thousands would come to watch the ketziras ha’omer, the reaping of the barley used for the Omer offering. The best fields, those south of Yerushalayim, were used as they produced the best grain. The reaping and harvesting was done with great pomp and ceremony. Why?

The Izbitcher explains, when the people saw the barley being harvested they were reminded of a powerful lesson. A person drops a seed, it gets buried under the ground, seemingly lost, squandered and forgotten. But if they come back to it, if they return to harvest it, they will see it wasn’t lost underground, wasn’t wasted at all. In that time it has taken root, blossomed and produced. The moments, experiences and conversations that seem dropped, lost, buried, disposed of, and despaired of, are revisited on Pesach, when we come to harvest, reap, and collect those seeds that have sprouted and grown all along.

I remember an interview with Rav Gamliel Rabinowitz, a great Rosh Yeshiva and Mekubal in Israel today. He was reflecting on his special father, Rav Levi Rabinowitz zt”l. Rav Levi was orphaned of both his father and mother by the time he was 9 years old and was raised in the Diskin Orphan Home. He could have despaired, given up, felt all alone in the world. Instead, he persevered with great faith, held on to the memories of those who came before, remained optimistic, positive and devoted to the study and spread of Torah. Ultimately, he emerged a respected talmid chacham and mechaber of the popular sefer Ma’adanei Shulchan, the Mishna Berura of Yoreh Dei’ah. He was so careful not to speak lashon ha’rah that Rav Elyashiv zt”l referred to him as “the Chofetz Chaim of the generation.”

Remarkably, by the time of his passing a few years ago, Rav Levi Rabinowitz, orphaned at a young age, had over 1,000 descendants. Reflecting on this amazing fact, his son Rav Gamliel said, “A person sees nothing, we have no idea what kind of seeds we carry within us, the unlimited potential of a human being.”

It is interesting to note that Pesach ends the way it began. On the eve of Pesach, we lit a candle to search for chametz, to identify what we must dispose of, throw out, and get rid of in our lives. On the last day of Pesach, we also have a candle lit, a yahrzeit candle to search again, but this time not for what we want to destroy, rather for what we want to recover, reclaim and take back.

On this Pesach, characterized by Layl Shimurim, we can collect all the diamonds and specks of gold that are part of our people that we may have dropped. Let’s gather the strength, faith, fortitude and resilience of those who came before us, including so many of our parents, grandparent and ancestors who overcame tremendous challenges in their times to bequeath to us the blessed life that we enjoy and let’s strengthen ourselves to navigate these times and to transmit these jewels to the next generation.

What is the Future of Yom Ha’Shoah?

As we approach the month of Nissan, I have been thinking a lot about what Yom HaShoah will look like this year. The reality is we, and every community I have spoken to, have been struggling to get meaningful attendance at their Yom HaShoah programs and have not succeeded in a broad “buy in” to observe Yom HaShoah in any meaningful way. Do the most recent horrific tragedies and atrocities of October 7, combined with the ongoing war that has cost so many lives since, make it more or less likely people will show up and care about Yom HaShoah this year?

Will the unimaginable pogroms, the “never again” happening again, and the precipitous spike in antisemitism help people realize the same evil that led to the Holocaust still continues and we must gather to commemorate and address the most horrific end result? Or will the open wounds of the last few months overpower and cloud our ability to meaningfully connect to atrocities and losses that preceded it by 80 years?

Twice in our history, the 20th of Sivan was designated as a permanent fast day to commemorate massacres against our people. The first time was by Rabbeinu Tam, Rashi’s grandson, in 1171, after 31 Torah scholars were executed because of a blood libel in France. Rabbeinu Tam declared the 20th of Sivan as a day of fasting “greater than Tzom Gedalya, like Yom Kippur,” and instituted special selichos to be recited. Shortly after, the Crusades expanded and for the next 150 years brought great devastation to Jewish communities. This overshadowed the incident of the blood libel and the “permanent fast” ceased being observed.

Almost 500 years later, from 1648-1649, Polish Anti-Semite Bohdan Chmielnicki launched a series of pogroms that led to the deaths of tens of thousands of Jews and the loss of hundreds of Jewish communities. The Shach, Rav Shabbsai HaKohen, instituted the 20th of Sivan as a private fast day for his family to commemorate their great loss. Soon after, the Council of the Four Lands, the rabbinic authority of Eastern Europe, adopted the fast for all Polish Jewry in commemoration of the tragedies of what became known as Tach V’Tat, mourning the loss of a third of Eastern European Jewry.

Twice the 20th of Sivan was designated as a day commemorating Jewish tragedies, and twice the observance faded until it is now entirely obsolete. Many observant Jews do not even know it was once a serious day of mourning. While those calamities remain very much part not only of our history, but of our collective conscience, they have been absorbed into Tisha B’Av, the designated day to grieve and reflect over all of the tragedies of our past.

For many years, I have thought about the fast of the 20^th of Sivan and the inevitability of Yom HaShoah going the same way. But I always concluded we aren’t there yet for two reasons. First, in both magnitude and severity, the Holocaust is categorically different from every other persecution or genocide in all of human history. It stands alone and stands apart and deserves its own day for reflection. Secondly, as long as we are blessed to have survivors among us, we owe it to them and to ourselves to show up, to honor them, to learn from them, and just to be with them.

The uniqueness and singularity of the Holocaust will, please God, remain true forever. But other factors are changing. In the United States today, there are fewer than 50,000 Holocaust survivors. Although South Florida is home to one of the largest populations of survivors, we increasingly struggle to identify any survivor to present to us on Yom Ha’Shoah. Whereas it was not that long ago when we had many survivors come to light candles to start our annual Yom HaShoah program, more recently we have been relying on the second generation to light the six large candles.

While the Holocaust was a defining event and experience for the last two generations, evidence shows that young people today want to move on, put it behind us, and come out from under its shadow. The younger generation is rapidly seeing the Holocaust in the context of the Crusades, the Inquisition, and the Expulsion from Spain: events that are part of our past and our history, rather than as something that happened to our parents and grandparents, a very real piece of our personal lives.

Does October 7 make the Holocaust more or less relevant to the average person? Will they be more or less likely to want to commemorate it? And most importantly, how much does it even matter? Maybe Yom HaShoah, though lacking the status of a religious day or having a foundation in Halacha, is on the Jewish calendar and should be there permanently, regardless of participation. On the other hand, that wasn’t the case for the 20^th of Sivan which ultimately stopped being observed. For some, Yom HaShoah never should have been established, and Rav Soloveitchik even tried to have it cancelled.

In the summer of 1978, newly elected Prime Minister Menachem Begin paid a visit to the United States and visited the Rav, Rav Yosef Dov Soloveitchik. In that conversation, the Rav proposed to the Prime Minister that Yom HaShoah be annulled as a separate day of mourning and be included within the framework of Tisha B’Av, as we do with other tragedies of our past, such as the Crusades. He quoted from one of the Kinos that we recite for the victims of the Crusades, Mi Yiten Roshi Mayim, that states: “No other time of brokenness and burning should be added, rather, all matters of communal mourning should be included in a single day of mourning.”

When Prime Minister Begin returned to Israel he tried to convince his colleagues to make the change. Ultimately, he was unsuccessful as the government was concerned about the school system having the opportunity to teach about the Holocaust and school being on vacation when Tisha B’Av falls out.

Is it time to absorb Yom HaShoah into Tisha B’Av? If we dedicate a shiur, lecture, discussion or program for the Holocaust on Tisha B’Av, will we do more to commemorate it than if we leave it as its own day (with the added benefit of educating more Jews about Tisha B’Av)? Should we maintain Yom HaShoah and find a way to dedicate it this year to the atrocities of October 7?

I don’t have a conclusion about Yom HaShoah this year, but I think there are questions we need to ask ourselves and that are worthy of our careful consideration. Instead of groveling and begging for people to attend and being frustrated yet again by a room with many empty seats, let’s plan thoughtfully and consider collaboratively whether we are at a juncture in history where a change is appropriate, and if so what it should look like. Whatever we conclude, may we no longer have tragedies to mourn and sad days to observe.

Is Aliyah All or Nothing?

The hardest part of coming to Israel is leaving.

A visit to Israel these days involves connecting with the heroic and courageous soldiers of the IDF, engaging with the seemingly ordinary but in truth, truly extraordinary people, absorbing the tremendous energy and unity of our people, tapping into the spiritual awakening of so many, and much more.

I came to Israel for a few days this week to participate in the weddings of two young members of our community who have placed their lot and destiny in our homeland. Each wedding was extraordinary in its own right. Didi went to Israel for a year of seminary and decided to stay forever. She married Rafi, who followed Yeshiva by joining the Israeli Air Force, where he continues to serve faithfully during this war. The singing under the chuppa of the Mi SheBeirach for Tzahal, as the Chosson and many of his friends in attendance continue to fight on the Jewish people’s behalf, was deeply moving and brought goosebumps. The Israeli and Tzahal flags that draped those dancing reflected the enormous pride in our people and the boundless loyalty and selflessness to our homeland and nation, especially during this difficult time.

The second wedding celebrated the marriage of Yosef and Gavriella, two righteous converts who each joined our people at a young age. Their souls were both at Sinai, destined to join our people and that night, under the stars, their souls united as one. Together they began a new song and a new saga, building a future and a family in our fateful land.

At both weddings I was in awe, filled with admiration for the courage, faith, and fortitude of these four young people who walked away from what might be an easier road of life, to walk the path of our forefathers, placing their lot in the land of our people.

These two magnificent weddings, combined with the many locations we visited, including the army outpost on the northern border, to the army headquarters in the south, from Shlomit to Nachal Oz, from Shuva Junction to volunteering on a farm, from walking Sderot to touring the Galilee Hospital, and so much more, this trip, like the three others I have been privileged to be part of since October 7, were life-changing, making it harder than ever to leave.

So why leave? Why not stay, announce Aliyah, and call on the entire community to join? Indeed, this is a question I receive regularly online and offline, on every trip to Israel and when engaging Israelis who visit America. Without exaggeration I have been told more than once, “Rabbi Goldberg, you are among the reasons Moshiach isn’t coming. If you would simply announce you are making Aliyah and tell the community to come with you, certainly they would.” I appreciate this encouragement comes from the best place, from those with the best intentions, many of whom have themselves taken this tremendous step. (As an aside, it is important to dispel the myth and fantasy that if American rabbis would simply declare Aliyah, their communities would most certainly pack up and come with them. From the time of Ezra and Nechemia until this very day, from Rabbi Riskin to the Klausenberger Rebbe, to the best of my knowledge, never has a community picked up and moved with their rabbi.)

So if it is so hard to leave each time we come, why not stay, why not finally move? That question plagues me regularly and nobody asks it more forcefully than I do to myself.

To be clear, I am deeply and profoundly inspired by, and envious of, family members, my rabbinic colleagues, and so many friends who have made Aliyah, many of whom are building new communities in Israel and bringing their unique voices to the symphony of our people on the greatest and most important stage we have. Their courage, faith, leadership, and example are enormous, and they and their leadership are being inscribed in the book that captures the story and destiny of our people.

However, if we can be honest and non-judgmental for a moment, the reality is that not everyone can or should make Aliyah at this moment. There are compelling reasons that make it the correct and responsible decision to remain outside of Israel for the time being.

There are legitimate reasons not to make Aliyah at the moment. But there are no legitimate reasons to not be struggling and wrestling with when, not if, to move oneself and one’s family to Israel permanently. Doing so is not a favor or gift to others, and it shouldn’t come from guilt, shame or fear. It should be an expression of understanding Hashem’s will for His children, of embracing our responsibility to our mission and our destiny.

Many, like the young people whose weddings we just celebrated this week, uproot themselves and move to Israel. Each year, at BRS we honor those families, and our community and its leadership continues to unabashedly and unapologetically push and promote Aliyah regularly.

But Aliyah at any given moment is not for everyone. The question that has been on my mind lately is does Aliyah have to be all or nothing? Are you either physically living and spiritually identifying exclusively in Israel or completely outside of it? Or is there some area in between, in which you fully believe in your current decision to reside outside of Israel but also genuinely feel your heart is in Israel and your feet are there as often as possible?

Again, making Aliyah – moving permanently including taking on citizenship, settling the land, paying taxes, and participating fully – that is the ultimate goal, without question. But if we make Aliyah binary, if we set up a paradigm in which you are either in or you are out, either you are here permanently and if you’re not you don’t really care, are we serving the greater goal of connecting our people and our land?

Taking delight in living in the Diaspora, not caring enough to make the effort to visit, having moving be the last thing on one’s mind, is not only shameful, it runs counter to authentic Torah values. But coming as often as possible, regularly thinking about, advocating for, fundraising on behalf of, and putting one’s efforts and energies towards Israel counts, it matters, it means something. These are the stepping stones to being there permanently one day, but they also have value in the meantime, both for the individual and for Israel.

To those who have made Aliyah – you are heroes, you have cemented your place in history, you are living the Jewish dream.

To those who regularly consider Aliyah but feel now is not the time, don’t stop thinking about it and struggling with it. Keep the dream alive, keep the goal in view, keep Israel at the forefront of your mind, and keep going as often as you can.

To those who are happy where they are, would never consider moving to Israel, haven’t visited in forever and have no plans to go in the near future, I beg you to reconsider and to radically change your attitude, not for anyone else, but for yourself.

On our trip this week was someone who hadn’t been to Israel in a very long time. After the experience, he shared the following:

As you know it’s been some time since I’ve been to Israel – 25 years. It was a real struggle to decide if I would come on this trip. Was this how I wanted my first time in Israel in a quarter of a century to be? Without my family? For such a short visit? War time tourism? It seemed macabre and voyeuristic. It’s not what I imagined it would be for my return to the holy land. But thankfully, my wife pushed me and I relented.

There are many legitimate reasons why a person cannot travel to Israel. For 20 years I could never take time off from work, using every vacation day for Yom Tov. Also financially it’s a huge expense for so many. But there is another reason that people have – I know I did – in the back of their minds: I want my Israel trip to be perfect. When the weather is good, when the crowds are small, when flights are cheap, when the kids are off, etc. and with that in mind it took an extra four years for me to just come home.

This is what was running through my mind on the flight. I felt like it was a mistake, I shouldn’t come to gawk at the soldiers or the displaced families like going to a museum or sideshow. I should come when I can be with my entire family and do all the things that people do: Kotel, Masada, tunnel tours, Ein Gedi, Eilat, etc.

That’s my take away. If you can afford to go, don’t put it off. Don’t put your trip to Israel on a pedestal that it needs to be perfect or you won’t go. Because before you know it, 25 years will go by, and you’ll wonder what could have been.

Israel is not just another place; it is not where others go to live or visit. It is core, central, and fundamental to what it means to be a Jew, to who we are, and how we identify. Think of Israel as a parent. When they can’t travel to you, you don’t save up to go on vacation elsewhere and neglect seeing them. You aren’t satisfied checking in on them occasionally from afar. You make it a priority to show up whenever you can, to be present, to connect and experience what it means to be together and spend time. Your focus is fixated on their well-being, you remain eager to hear and learn how they are, you visit as often as possible and even though there are legitimate reasons to be apart, you can’t wait to next be together.

Whatever the reason, stop waiting. Plan your trip now, start saving up and taking steps necessary to make it a reality. It isn’t Aliyah, but it matters to those in Israel and it will forever change you.

How You Can Turn $1,000 into $14 Billion for Israel

If you could give $1,000 and turn it into $14 billion for Israel, wouldn’t you? If you could prevent anti-Israel/antisemitic candidates from getting elected to Congress, wouldn’t you? Well, you can!

In the first month following October 7^th, American Jewry raised over $1 billion for Israel. Since then, the generosity and donations have continued. While incredibly important and certainly impactful, the current amount of donations to Israel is a small fraction of what is needed to fight this war, to address the economic impact of it, and to fund the expense of recovery from it.

Since the inception of the modern state, Israel has been dependent on United States support. Indeed, Israel has been the largest cumulative recipient of US aid since its founding, having received about $300 billion (adjusted for inflation) in total economic and military assistance.

Of course, America’s commitment to Israel’s military superiority is not a favor or a gift, it is in the United State’s security interest. As the only liberal democracy in the Middle East that shares values and foreign policy interests, a strong, intimidating Israel is an American interest. The United States has an expanding military base in Israel but in some ways, all of Israel serves as a US presence in a complicated and dangerous region of the world, one that threatens American values and Americans themselves. In a Republican Presidential debate, Nikki Haley put it well when she said, “The last thing we need to do is to tell Israel what to do. The only thing we should be doing is supporting them in eliminating Hamas. It is not that Israel needs America. America needs Israel.”

There is no doubt that the US military aid to Israel is significant but often unappreciated is that most of the aid, approximately $3.3 billion a year, is provided as grants that Israel must use to purchase U.S. military equipment and services. In other words, American gives billions of dollars to Israel that Israel must spend buying military equipment from America, stimulating the American economy while helping Israel.

While we long for a time that Israel is financially, politically and security independent, currently, US aid accounts for about 15 percent of Israel’s defense budget. Moreover, from a foreign policy standpoint, Israel relies on America providing diplomatic cover at the UN and elsewhere. While there are greater steps Israel can take to gain independence in these areas, that dependance reality is part of the galus we still find ourselves in and, given Israel’s relatively small size, it is hard to believe that will change entirely before Moshiach comes.

The cost of replenishing munitions to continue to eliminate Hamas in Gaza and the expense of being prepared for a prolonged war in the north are enormous. It is for that reason the Senate just passed a special $14.1 billion aid package for Israel. While it passed 70-29, there were Democrats and Republicans who voted against it and it still needs to pass the House where it may well encounter resistance.

Bernie Sanders voted against the aid and said, “As I have said many times, Israel has the right to defend itself against Hamas’ terrorism, but it does not have the right to obliterate an entire people.”

Peter Welch of Vermont opposed the package saying, “I have always supported the free, secure, and democratic State of Israel. I still do. The Netanyahu government’s destruction of Gaza won’t make Israel more secure or more free.”

Jeff Merkley of Oregon explained why he voted against the aid, saying, “I cannot vote to send more bombs and shells to Israel when they are using them in an indiscriminate manner against Palestinian civilians.”

Only 22 Republicans, less than half of the membership, voted in favor of the aid package, likely more to do with the allocation to Ukraine and their concern regarding the dangers of an unsecured US border, but their votes are still troubling.

Here is the bottom line. For better or worse, Israel needs American support more today than it has since the Yom Kippur war and American support for Israel is less of a given than it has been perhaps since Israel’s inception.

Since October 7^th, American Jews have been working to find our place in this war. Certainly davening, learning, financial support, visits and missions are important, they matter and make a difference. But, what has not been as widely focused on or emphasized is our role in ensuring formal, state-sanctioned US support for Israel.

While soldiers are fighting on the front lines of Gaza and the North and every Israeli is holding down the fort on the front lines of everyday life, our front line in America is urging, advocating and using our support to positively influence US-Israel policy.

Here are some things we can, and must do:

· Political Giving: Recently, AIPAC shifted strategy significantly and, through their PAC, now rate, endorse and financially support pro-Israel candidates. In the last election, this effort helped defeat 13 candidates who would have undermined the US-Israel relationship. AIPAC has created a tool called the Detractor’s Fund to push back against The Squad and those who seek to isolate and undermine Israel in Washington by funding candidates looking to defeat detractors of Israel in Congress. Please contribute any amount – www.aipacpac.org – and be part of determining who determines US policy towards Israel. The money you spend supporting candidates can be the difference of $14 billon of aid to Israel. Where else can you get that kind of return?

· Advocacy: AIPAC, ZOA, OU, and Agudah regularly send out action alerts asking people to send emails and make calls to lobby for different pieces of legislation having to do with Israel. Don’t unsubscribe, delete the email, or assume someone else will take the time because you are too busy. Stop what you are doing, spend a few moments taking action and make your voice heard. Congressional staff keep an account of how many calls and emails they get supporting and opposing proposed legislation. Even those representatives who will certainly vote with Israel need to be contacted to express gratitude and appreciation. Your emails and calls matter, take the time to make and send them.

· Primaries: Due to gerrymandering, the overwhelming majority of Congressional districts are predominantly Republican or Democrat, and there are relatively few genuine swing districts. That means most elections are decided in the primary. Don’t ignore primary elections and stay home. No matter your true political affiliation or identification, register with the majority party in your district so that you qualify to vote in the primary and can influence who will vote in Congress. You can still vote for either party’s candidate in the general election but by registering with the majority party you ensure you will have a say in the election that is more likely to determine the ultimate member of Congress.

When Yaakov confronted Esav he prepared in three ways – prayer, gifts and war. Our brothers and sisters in Israel are fighting this war. We can and must contribute the prayer and gifts/contributions.

The war with Hamas is not Israel’s war alone. Defeating evil, defending our homeland, is the responsibility of every Jew. There is much work to do fighting for Israel in the US. This is our front line and each of us is being called upon to serve faithfully. Soldiers in Israel are asked to be willing to sacrifice their lives. Their families are sacrificing with severely disrupted lives. Our sacrifice is to give the time it takes to make a phone call and send an email and the cost of being considered for contributing to a campaign.

In Israel, they have reported to reserve duty at over 100%. Will we report to fulfill our duty?

Grateful or Not Good Enough? The Grammys Tribute to the Victims of the Nova Music Festival

The Grammy Awards, presented by the Recording Academy of the United States, are regarded as the most prestigious and significant awards in the music industry worldwide. As far as awards shows are concerned, the Grammys couldn’t be a more appropriate and prominent event to pay tribute to the barbaric and horrific murder of hundreds of people and the kidnapping of 40 more at the Nova Music Festival in Israel on October 7th. For that reason, our friend, former Congressman Ted Deutch, now CEO of the AJC, published an op-ed calling on them to honor the victims and advocate for the hostages.

The 66th annual Grammys took place this week and indeed, it drew an enormous audience of 16.9 million viewers, up 34% from last year. To his credit, Recording Academy CEO Harvey Mason Jr. did use the enormous platform to acknowledge the historic atrocity at the Supernova Festival, saying:

Every one of us, no matter where we’re from, is united by the shared experience of music. It brings us together like nothing else can, and that’s why music must always be our safe space. When that’s violated, it strikes at the very core of who we are. We felt that at the Bataclan concert hall in Paris. We felt that at the Manchester Arena in England. We felt that at the Route 91 Harvest Music Festival in Las Vegas. And, on October 7, we felt that again, when we heard the tragic news from the Supernova Music Festival for Love, that over 360 music fans lost their lives and another 40 were kidnapped.

That day and all the tragic days that have followed have been awful for the world to bear as we mourn the loss of all innocent lives. We live in a world divided by so much, and maybe music can’t solve everything, but let us all agree that music must remain the common ground upon which we all stand, together in peace and harmony. Every song that we’re honoring or hearing tonight moved someone, no matter where they were from, what they believed, it connected us to others who were moved in the same way. Take this string quartet: As individuals they sound really good, but together they achieve something beautiful they could never do apart. These musicians of Israeli, Palestinian and Arab descent are here, playing together. Now is the time for us, for humanity, to play together, to come together.

On the one hand, in a world of growing antisemitism, anti-Israel sentiment, moral equivalency and political considerations, we should feel gratitude to Mason for the moral clarity to use the awards show to address the darkest day the Jewish people have had since the Holocaust. While obvious to us, addressing the Supernova atrocity was likely complicated for him.

But while Mason showed courage in some ways by addressing the atrocity, he fell way short of truly honoring those murdered, advocating for the victims, and hostages or standing for the truth when he omitted who they were, where they lived, and why they were killed.

Look at his words more carefully. Notice that the Bataclan concert hall is in Paris. Manchester Arena is in England. Route 91 Harvest Music Festival is in Las Vegas. What about the Supernova Music Festival, where did it take place, where did that tragedy occur? No mention, as if Israel, the one and only Jewish state, is a dirty word, a political football, a divisive or taboo term.

Mason goes on to describe, “over 360 music fans lost their lives,” as if they died in an accident or natural disaster. They didn’t lose their lives, they were murdered. Brutally, barbarically, viciously. They were raped, tortured, and massacred and it was not because they were “music fans,” it was because they were Israelis, because most of them were Jews.

The “tragic days” that have followed and the loss of “all innocent lives” are not because of a conflict that has two legitimate sides, but entirely and only because a barbaric terrorist organization, Hamas, attacked the innocent civilians of Israel.

While the symbolism evoked by the string quartet is meaningful, it is empty if not accompanied by substance. Peace won’t come from Israelis and Palestinians simply playing music together. It will come when we can call evil by its name, when we can say out loud the difference between perpetrators and victims and when we don’t have to wordsmith statements to make them politically correct.

Maybe you will say I am being unfair, hypercritical, or expecting too much. Maybe by so closely analyzing his words I am being ungrateful for the courage it took to share them at all. Perhaps. But I ask you to consider this. Forty participants at that Festival for Love were kidnapped, many still being held hostage against all international law, human rights, and basic morality. Could Mason not have used that moment, that stage, to say before nearly 20 million people, “Let them go,” or “Bring them home”? Is calling for the release of innocent women and children controversial? Is it politically incorrect or divisive? Is it too much to ask or expect?

Yes, we should be appreciative and yes, we should express our gratitude, but we also must simultaneously not sell ourselves short, settle for less than we deserve or are entitled to. Are we so insecure, do we lack confidence in who we are, our story, our right to exist and live in peace and harmony?

After October 7^th, Boca Raton Synagogue distributed 1,000 car flags. We didn’t only encourage Israeli flags but we also provided and encouraged people to display American flags (and IDF flags). While pro-Palestinians rallies have only included American flags as objects to burn, we wanted to communicate the shared values and close connection of Israel and America.

I proudly display the flags on my car. A few weeks ago, I was driving down Palmetto Park Road, a busy street in our area, when someone tried to cut me off, almost pushing me off the road. I slowed down to avoid a collision or an escalation when he lowered his window, pointed to my flags, starting yelling and gesturing obscenely in my direction. He was cursing Israel and me wildly. I slowed significantly and avoided further interaction but those moments truly shook me. I couldn’t believe that right here in Boca Raton, a community that is more than fifty percent Jewish, such hatred and public antisemitism could be displayed so brazenly.

When I shared the story with someone I am close with, their response as to encourage me to take off the flags. Why identify so publicly with Israel, they asked? Why put it in people’s face? Why drive around with a target on your car?

To be honest, I was shocked. The answer is to hide my pro-Israel feelings? The response is to take down my American and Israeli flags?! When I was in Yeshiva in Washington Heights, I vividly remember seeing Puerto Rican flags around the neighborhood and feeling admiration for the patriotism, pride, and connection my neighbors felt for where they are from.

My children were recently in Los Angeles. My son-in-law was walking to Mincha with his 4-year-old son when a car slowed down, the window lowered, and the driver gestured obscenely and screamed out at them, “wrong way to the tunnels.” Are they not entitled to walk down the street safely? Must a Jew in Los Angeles, New York, or Boca Raton take off their yarmulka, remove any display of their Jewishness when in public?

In this moment, more than ever in our lifetimes, we need to stand tall and firm, with pride, unapologetically, without defensiveness or insecurity about who we are, what we deserve, what we stand for, and who we stand with. We must not be satisfied with universalized messages against “all hate” instead of specifically calling out antisemitism. We must not be content with a minimal acknowledgement when it fails to say Jew or Israeli. We must not tolerate moral equivalence, a lack of clarity of who is the aggressor and who is the victim. We must demand those who display hate against us be prosecuted to the full extent of the law. We must urge decent people everywhere to advocate for the release of our hostages immediately.

When we were liberated from Egypt, we were first instructed to go to our neighbors and respectfully, but firmly, ask for gold and silver, the compensation for our years of slavery. Hashem wanted us to walk out with resources and wealth but He wanted us to leave with something even more important. A slave feels like a passive spectator to their own lives. They must meekly accept whatever they get and whatever happens to them. The only way for a slave to gain true wealth is to be liberated from that mentality and to proclaim, I know what I am worth, I know what I deserve, I know what I am entitled to, and I demand it now. When asked boldly and confidently, the Egyptians complied with the Jews request.

We left Egypt with more than gold and silver, we left with pride and confidence, the knowledge of who we are and what we deserve. The time has come to free ourselves from an apologetic, fearful mentality and posture and to stand up for who we are. When we respect ourselves we will find others have greater respect for us as well.

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