Antisemitism is Scary, This Should be Scarier

 

According to a new ADL report, antisemitism in the United States has “skyrocketed” since Hamas’s October 7 invasion of Israel.  In the last three months, there were 3,283 antisemitic incidents including 60 physical assaults, 553 incidents of vandalism and 1,353 incidents of harassment. That is more than four times the number that occurred during the same period last year.  In the aftermath of Claudine Gay’s resignation from the Harvard presidency, Harvard’s anonymous campus social media platform Sidechat has been filled with an unprecedented level of overt antisemitism.  All posters on Sidechat are current undergraduates, graduate students, continuing education students, alumni, faculty, or staff.

 

The wave of antisemitism is deeply troubling, disconcerting and profoundly worrying.  We must do all we can to confront it, combat it, call it out, and create consequences for those who practice it.  And yet, while alarming, there is something even more destructive, devastating, and dangerous to the safety and security of our Jewish future.  Even with its meteoric rise, the statistical threat of antisemitism pales in comparison to the crisis of assimilation: the damage we are doing to ourselves and our contributions to the disappearance of our people.

 

In the United States, intermarriage was rare until the middle of the 20th century, with rates never rising above 3%. In 1964, the intermarriage rate had risen to 7%. Today, 70% of secular Jews in the United States, and 50% in Europe, are married to non-Jews.

 

In contrast to the other denominations, studies show that the Orthodox community is on the rise and exhibit high levels of demographic stability.  While that conclusion is gratifying and validating, it is absolutely no cause for celebration or triumphalism; the hemorrhaging of other denominations is not the result of Jews flocking to the Orthodox community.

 

Rav Aharon Lichtenstein zt”l wrote (Tradition, Spring 1982):

 

Nor do I share the glee some feel over the prospective demise of the competition. Surely, we have many sharp differences with the Conservative and Reform movements, and these should not be sloughed over or blurred. However, we also share many values with them – and this, too, should not be obscured. Their disappearance might strengthen us in some respects, but would unquestionably weaken us in others. And of course, if we transcend our own interests and think of the people currently served by these movements – many of them, both presently and potentially, well beyond our reach or ken – how would they, or klal Yisrael as a whole, be affected by such a change? Can anyone responsibly state that it is better for a marginal Jew in Dallas or Dubuque to lose his religious identity altogether rather than drive to his temple?

 

If the muscles of the left arm atrophy or the arm needs to be amputated, it is hardly a comfort that the right arm is strong and has larger muscles than ever.  Sadly, rather than an honest review and return to tradition, ritual and halacha, there has been a doubling down of the policies and ideology that have brought these results to begin with.

 

Some have suggested an embrace of patrilineal descent as a solution.  Others argue it is time for rabbis to officiate at intermarriages. Aside from representing gross distortions of Halacha, mesorah and the will of the Almighty, these suggestions don’t actually address the core issues. They simply attempt to put a Band-Aid over a deeply infected wound that is gushing blood.  Indeed, they are the equivalent of cooking the books or manipulating earnings so that they appear to report profit instead of loss.  Recognizing patrilineal descent or accepting intermarriage just gives the illusion of addressing the problem; it doesn’t actually do anything to address the very real threat facing the future of American non-orthodox Jewry.

 

If one thinks the Orthodox community is unaffected by these suggested monumental shifts in policy, they are grossly mistaken. Individuals and families who will have grown up thinking they are Jewish will meet our children through NCSY or at their college Hillel and their Jewish status will come into question.  Children who apply to attend day schools or families that will seek membership in our shuls may have questionable statuses.  These potential shifts in policy and practice will not only fail to stem assimilation, but it will further divide our people.  This is not a hypothetical issue that may arise in the future.  This is happening now in our own institutions and among families in our own community.  I see these issues arise frequently – and tragically.

 

Intermarriage is not a Reform or Conservative challenge, it is not the problem of the “unaffiliated” or “secular.”  Too many Orthodox parents have reached out to me about their children who have gone through a robust Jewish education and grew up in observant homes who have met someone non-Jewish and are building a life with them. We are one people, one nation, and we are watching our family hemorrhage.  

 

Antisemitism and assimilation are not only both rising dangerous threats, our response to both must be one and the same –  more Jewish pride, more Jewish practice, more Jewish passion. When talking about the mitzvah of tzitizis, our rabbis (Bamidbar Rabbah 17:6 and see Nesivos Shalom) provide the following metaphor.  A person was once cast into the sea and was drowning.  The Coast Guard threw the person a rope and said grab on. If you hold onto it, you will survive but if you let go, you will be swept away and disappear.  Wearing tzitzis reminds us of our commitment and responsibility to a life of Torah and mitzvos.  Grabbing on to those ropes and what they stand for gives us life.  Tzitzis themselves are not the solution, but they are symbol of a lifestyle of mitzvos.   Eitz chaim hi la’machazikim bah, the Torah is the tree of life for those who grab onto it.  Let it go and you will be swept away.

 

The storms of change are raging around us.  The current is getting stronger and stronger and sweeping more and more people away.  The only way to stay safe, and remain true to our values, our traditions and our obligations, is to make a commitment to not only hold on to Torah, but to demonstrate a willingness to swim upstream at times, to go against the tide, to dare to be different and to be willing to stand out.  This is no easy task and takes great courage, but we have it within our very DNA because our great patriarch Avraham planted it there.  Avraham was called Avraham Ha’Ivri meaning mei’eiver, on the other side.  When the whole world took one position and stood on one side, he had the courage to stand out, remain true to the vision and will of the Almighty, and to stand on the other side, even when it meant standing by himself.

 

The great Piacetzner Rebbe, R’ Kalonymous Kalman Shapira writes in his spiritual diary, Tzav V’Ziruz:

 

You cannot remain static in this torrent river just by standing firm in your place – you must actively swim against the flow.  You may not be successful in swimming upstream, but at least you will not be swept down by the flow.  So it is with spiritual life and the purity of spirit that you have attained.  You cannot retain them against the flow unless you continue to struggle for spiritual growth.  You must swim upstream without respite – upward, onward against the flow.  There may be a limit to how far you can go, but at least you will not be drawn down with the flow.

 

W.C. Fields once said, “Remember, a dead fish can float downstream, but it takes a live one to swim upstream.”  Those who are spiritually dead, cut off from our timeless and time tested traditions, are floating away.  We, the community who are willing to swim upstream, must not only swim harder, but we must be willing to grab on to those around us and share our life preserver, the Torah.

 

These findings, both of the rise of antisemitism and the growth of assimilation, demand a mass movement of outreach.  The needle won’t move and the problem won’t be solved by kiruv professionals and rabbis alone.  A difference will only be made when every Torah shul, institution, and individual sees as part of their core identity and personal mission to not only hold on to the sturdy tree of Torah (eitz chaim hi la’machazikim bah) to prevent being swept down the river, but to reach out and extend a hand to those floating by. 

 

Milton Friedman, the great Nobel Prize-winning economist and professor at the University of Chicago, had a very simple suggestion for how to identify a person or institution’s priorities.  Many people eloquently describe their beliefs, values, and principles and talk about what is most important to them.  Friedman advised to ignore what they say.  If you want to truly know what someone’s priorities are, it is simple – Look at someone’s budget and you know what is important to him/her.  See how someone prioritizes their money and you will know their priorities.

 

We claim to care about outreach but do our institutions, shul and schools have an outreach budget?  Do we have dedicated people working on this cause?  Do we put our money where our mouth is?

 

This is our generation’s test; it is our challenge.  Many summers ago, I worked at Aish HaTorah in Jerusalem as an advisor in their Discovery program.  My friend and I were fresh out of yeshiva and when asked to recruit at a particular location that we didn’t feel was appropriate for “Bnei Torah” to spend time, we resisted.  A meeting was scheduled with Rav Noach Weinberg zt”l, founder of Aish.  After some small talk, he asked us what the problem was.  We explained that we were yeshiva guys trying to work on ourselves and we didn’t feel that it would be good for our neshamos to hang out at an immodest location.  I will never forget what he answered.

 

He looked us in the eye and with the greatest sincerity said, “Let me ask you.  If you were in Eastern Europe and the train was leaving to Auschwitz and a woman extended her hand for you to pull her off, would you hesitate to take it because you are a yeshiva guy?!” Well, the train is leaving and it is taking millions not to Auschwitz, but to assimilation and oblivion.  You need to go recruit and figuratively extend your hand to pull people off the train and redirect them from assimilation and into Discovery.”

 

It has been said that in Europe they killed us with hate and in America, even with the rising hate,  they are mostly killing us with love.   Will we rise to our generations test and care enough to not only be willing to swim upstream ourselves when necessary, to stand tall, proud, to be passionately practicing, but also to extend our hand to those around us who are being swept away.  If the answer is not a resounding “yes,” the consequences of the combination of antisemitism and assimilation will be devastating.

 

Don’t Vote Republican or Democrat, Vote Israel

For most of the 20th century, the vast majority of Jews in the United States identified with the Democratic Party and voted for Democratic candidates. Even now, according to Pew, seven in ten Jewish adults identify with or lean toward the Democratic Party, and half describe their political views as liberal. Orthodox Jews stand out as an exception: 60% of Orthodox Jews describe their political views as conservative, with 75% identifying with or leaning towards Republican. 

 

The non-partisan Jewish Electorate Institute (JEI) released its annual national survey of Jewish voters in November 2023. The poll found that Jewish voters remain very focused on cultural issues such as democracy, abortion, guns, inflation, and climate change.  The data was published before the atrocity of October 7th and before the current war but, how low Israel ranked as a priority in voting was upsetting even then.  

 

Even among the Orthodox, Israel ranked behind inflation and the economy and immigration: 

 

The pogroms, mass murder, and atrocities of October 7th stunned Israel and those who love her. Reeling from the unimaginable attack, grieving from the horrific loss, worried about the staggering number of hostages, Israel felt isolated and alone and highly uncertain.  Immediate statements of strong support from American political leaders and elected officials, coupled with real demonstrations of loyalty to Israel’s security, were critical. 

 

At that time, and in the moments that have followed, we have learned who are true friends of Israel and the Jewish people and who are not.  In many cases, the answer is not who we would have predicted.  Some of the most vocal and vociferous voices are politicians the pro-Israel community was not very confident about.  Take Senator John Fetterman.  In the 2022 election, the Orthodox community of Pennsylvania did not exactly embrace Fetterman, a progressive Democrat, or celebrate him as a champion of our causes.  And yet, since October 7th, you would be hard-pressed to find a more outspoken, unequivocal, even defiant supporter of Israel. Consistently rejecting the call for a ceasefire and defending Israel’s efforts to destroy Hamas, he recently said, “I would be the last man standing to be absolutely there on the Israeli side on this with no conditions.”

 

And so, among the many things that have changed as a result of October 7th, I would humbly recommend that the Jewish community would do well to no longer identify with a single party, Republican or Democrat, but to look carefully at every candidate’s position and record on Israel.  When we step in a voting booth, we shouldn’t look for an (R) or a (D) but for moral clarity and loyalty on Israel.  Understanding how critical support for Israel is militarily, diplomatically, and financially, our top three issues in any election ought to be Israel, Israel, and Israel.  As important and meaningful as other issues are, without a strong Israel, Jews are not safe or secure. 

 

We must not fall in love with or identify too closely with either party. We must not be blinded or enticed by how much we may have in common on social or domestic issues with one side or the other, one candidate or another.  The pro-Israel community must keep our eye on how pro-Israel a candidate is, with their words and statements and even more importantly, with their practice.  We must do a better job at rewarding our friends and calling out our adversaries.  We must not ignore or discount the support of an elected official on the basis that they are simply doing what is obvious and right to us.  If that senator, member of Congress or the administration as a whole receives much greater feedback, letters and calls against Israel than for it, their vote and voices can easily change. 

 

Our exile in Egypt and the harsh suffering and servitude there began with the fact that  וַיָּ֥קם מֶֽלֶךְ־חָדָ֖שׁ עַל־מִצְרָ֑יִם אֲשֶׁ֥ר לֹֽא־יָדַ֖ע אֶת־יוֹסֵֽף , a new king arose over Egypt who did not know Yosef.  Chazal debate if it was literally a new king, or the same king who had chosen to forget Yosef’s contribution to saving the Egyptian economy.  Some commentators point out that the Jewish people had retreated to live in Goshen, neglecting the relationship with the king and leadership of Egypt.  Absent that connection, the king was able to forget, overlook and disregard what the Jews had done to save Mitzrayim. 

 

This lesson of the centuries of servitude is clear.  We must never take for granted any relationships with people in positions of power.  We must build them, nourish them, educate them, and hold them accountable when it comes to Israel and issue of Jewish concern.  Contribute to and be grateful towards those who stand with Israel and against antisemitism.  Take the time to write a letter or make a donation.  Don’t look for a particular party, look for the heart and soul of those who “get it” on the issues that matter to us.  AIPAC is one great resource to track candidates, their positions on Israel, and to take action by writing letters and being in touch, specifically with those who need to hear it to reinforce their correct position or call them out on having the wrong one. 

 

We are blessed to currently have a president, administration, and overwhelming majority of Congress who firmly stand with Israel.  While they aren’t perfect and there are positions or statements we wish were different, they fundamentally have Israel’s back, often when it isn’t politically advantageous or comfortable for them.  Don’t take that for granted and wait for a  new king to arise who doesn’t know us or care about the issues that matter most to us. 

Hamas Underestimated Us and So Did We

In 1977, after serving in the opposition for many years, Menachem Begin won the election that would make him Prime Minister.  Soon after, Begin was in the process of assembling a governing coalition when seven members of the Haredi party burst into his office, lashing out over something that upset them. Hart Hasten, a close friend and advisor of Begin recalled how Begin sat silently as they expressed their anger and agitation.  When they had finished, Begin paused and then calmly responded in Yiddish: Rabbosai, hobn ihr shoin gedavent minha, Gentlemen, have you already davened Mincha? Stunned by the response, they replied that in fact, they had not yet davened. So, Begin recruited Hasten, his chief of staff Yehiel Kadishai, and together with himself and the seven men of the Haredi party, they proceeded as a minyan to daven Mincha. By the time they were done, tempers had subsided, and the rage had dissolved. Begin had disarmed his political adversaries by pivoting to common ground, a shared reverence for Torah and Yiddishkeit and a united commitment to surrender in faith to Hashem by davening the afternoon prayer.  Against the backdrop of a holy Mincha prayed with the harmony produced from disparate voices, Begin resumed negotiations, ultimately succeeding in building a coalition.

 

I was reminded of this story this week as Rabbi Moskowitz, Rabbi Broide, and I traveled back to Israel for three days of hugs, chizuk, love, comfort, support and partnership that culminated in a Maariv minyan that reminded me of Begin’s Mincha. 

 

Our trip took us to army bases in the North and South in which our community sponsored meals and music and we distributed handwritten letters to the precious and heroic members of the IDF.  We encountered soldiers who had not been home in weeks or now months and who were sleeping on the cold floor.  We met a 51-year-old soldier whose service concluded eleven years ago but would not be stopped from continuing to voluntarily serve and who today is the driver of his group’s hummer throughout Gaza.  We sang and danced with units that were literally on their way back into Gaza to fight, including with a dear friend whose commander fell in battle that very night after our dinner together.  Rather than exhaustion, bitterness or resentment, we encountered positivity, resolve, tenacity, faith, optimism, hope, and a sense of purpose and mission that simply defy words.

 

We visited with injured soldiers in Tel Ha’Shomer hospital, one of whom was told he would be there for a minimum of a full year and another with metal rods coming out of one leg, his arm in a sling, and a patch over his eye.  They, and all the others we visited, were not down or depressed, despondent or dejected. They each had a separate and unique story to tell, but they all ended with a message of hope, positivity and unwavering faith that we will prevail. 

 

We spent significant time with a father of a 21-year-old fallen soldier, killed by a Hamas ambush.  He shared his and his family’s devastating sense of pain, loss, and grief but his overall message was one of duty, mission and purpose.

 

We met with a community from the South that has been displaced since October 7th and who don’t know when it will be safe to return to their homes.  In more than half of these families, the husband has been called up to serve and the wife is left living in a cramped hotel room with her children going to makeshift school and living without almost all of their things.  Instead of giving up or giving in, rather than expressing a desire or plan to move or relocate when this is over, they have pledged and promised to go home, to expand their community, and forge a deeper connection to the area in which they live.

 

We toured Be’eri, one of the communities hit hardest on that “Black Sabbath” as it was referred to us.  Out of 1,200 residents, 90 were brutally murdered, 30 were taken hostage and close to 90 soldiers lost their lives liberating the survivors from the more than 500 terrorists who infiltrated on that dark day.  The now-empty community is not open to the public but we were honored to be able to pay witness to the atrocities that took place there and now bear the awesome responsibility to tell the stories of what happened that day.  We saw burnt and destroyed homes, bloody sheets and bloody stains on the ground.  We observed cars, homes, a school and a clinic riddled with bullet holes.   We picked up bullets that are still all over the ground, a testament to the fierce battles that took place in that spot that so many died al Kiddush Hashem.  We walked by a Sukkah that still stands despite Chanukah having begun because there is no person, no time, and no will to take it down. 

 

And yet, despite all that we saw and heard had happened there, Naor and Yarden, the two men who took us around and who each lost loved ones that day, spoke with determination and resolve and offered statements that we are not going anywhere, we will bounce back and build, we are prepared to fight for existence, our homes and our Homeland. 

 

We stopped at the Shuva junction where three brothers started out a help center by putting together several extension cords and setting up one table to provide hot food for soldiers.  Today there are large tents, endless buffets of food, stations of clothing, laundry and more, all coordinated by extraordinary volunteers who feed more than 3,000 soldiers a week.  We met the amazing women of Gush Etzion who rotate baking special treats and stocking the pinah chama, clubhouse for soldiers who patrol their neighborhood.  We went back to Maslul to our friend Yaakov, the Makolet owner who essentially hasn’t seen his wife since October 7th because he feeds, cares for, and takes care of the needs of over 700 soldiers a day who come for respite between their battles in Gaza.  We met Moshe who voluntarily converted the garage behind his home on the Gaza border into a space for 40 soldiers to rest, sleep, and eat.

 

We met and were briefed by Brigadier General (ret.) Amir Avivi who shared tremendous insights into what happened, what is happening, and what he believes will happen next.  He ended by telling us that while Hamas dealt us a devastating blow that horrible day, they made a gross and fatal miscalculation.  They saw the vociferous debates over judicial reform, the political rancor and deep divide between the left and right, religious and secular, and they predicted that Israel would react to an attack by blaming one another, splintering, and falling apart. They didn’t understand and could never predict or even comprehend the level of unity we would experience, how together we truly are, how much more we have in common than could ever divide us. 

 

Hamas were not the only ones who grossly miscalculated.  The Jewish people went to sleep on October 6th bitterly divided, but after the events of October 7th, woke up on October 8th a new people, a united people, an am echad k’ish echad b’lev echad, one nation, one people with one heart. 

 

They didn’t know what we are capable of, what we can accomplish when we come together, who we are at our core when all is on the line.  Said the General, the secular are having a spiritual awakening and the Haredim are coordinating unprecedented networks of national service.   The world and Hamas thought that the Jewish people were fractured and this would be the ultimate blow that would divide us.  They, and to a certain extent we, never imagined how united, driven and unstoppable we could become. 

 

And that brings me to our special Maariv at the end of our trip. We were at Knesset offices for meetings when suddenly someone realized the time for Maariv had come and asked if we would join a minyan.  As we began Borchu, I looked around the conference table.  Sitting to my immediate left, with a long beard, curly payos and black velvet yarmulka was United Torah Judaism MK, Yisrael Eichler, essentially the head of the Haredi party.  Sitting to my right was  MK Michael Biton of National Unity Party, who had been sitting in the room and borrowed a kippa from someone so he could help us make the minyan.  Across from me, wearing his kippa serugah sat Finance Minister Betzalel Smotrich.  Not individuals in a borrowed kippa, kippa seruga, and black kippa, disagreeing on important ideology and policies, but a united coalition in that moment in prayer, faith and love of our people. 

 

As we davened, I thought about the miracle of Chanuka and the rededication of our holy Beis HaMikdash after defeating an evil enemy.  In that moment, I was deeply moved by the fact that we are back in Yerushalayim, davening Maariv in the modern center of power, doing so with sovereignty, self-determination, and self-defense. After 2,000 years of running from pogroms, persecution, and attempted exterminations, we have returned to our homeland with the chance to be active participants in shaping our destiny. 

 

Our parsha describes that Yosef’s brothers hated him to the point that v’lo yachlu dabro l’shalom.”  The Ibn Ezra explains, “v’lo yachlu dabro l’shalom – afilu l’shalom.”  It isn’t that they just couldn’t talk about the issues they disagreed about.  It isn’t just that they didn’t want to be close, loving brothers.  It isn’t just that they couldn’t debate respectfully.  “Afilu l’shalom” – they couldn’t even give each other a shalom aleichem.  The hatred and intolerance had grown so deep that they couldn’t stand to even extend greetings to one another or to be in a room together. 

 

Rav Yehonasan Eibshitz in his Tiferes Yonasan has an additional insight.  When we disagree with people, we withdraw from them and stop speaking to them.  We see them as “the other,” different than us and apart from us.  As our communication breaks down, the dividers rise up, stronger and stronger and we can’t find a way to break through them. 

 

The antidote and answer is in our hands and we remind ourselves of it three times a day when we pray.  Our practice of taking three steps backward at the conclusion of the Amidah comes from a Gemara in Yoma (Daf 53) which states, “Hamispaleil tzarich she’yafsiah shelosha pesios l’achorav v’achar kach yitein shalom. The one who prays must take three steps back and only then pray for peace.” R’ Menachem BenZion Zaks (in his commentary on Pirkei Avos) explains that we cannot pray for, nor achieve, peace if we are not willing to step back a little and make room for others and their opinions, their tastes and personalities. After stepping back, we ask “oseh shalom bimromav, God, please bring peace,” and we then turn to the right and to the left. Explains R’ Zaks, achieving peace and harmony means bending towards those on the right of us and those on the left of us, acknowledging them, engaging them, and making space for them. That is a prerequisite to the shalom, the peace we crave.

 

In our few days meeting, touring and volunteering, we witnessed the impact of the worst of humanity and we watched the best of humanity.  The atrocity that took place was unimaginable, but so is the will and faith of our people. If we want shalom, peace, we must be capable of speaking l’shalom, not just tolerating a fellow Jew but learning to love them and maybe even daven Mincha or Maariv together too. 

Davening for Soldiers Doesn’t Conflict With Faith in Hashem

For the last month and a half, nobody I know has slept through the night.  Certainly, those in Israel, especially those married to soldiers, and those who are parents or siblings of soldiers are perpetually restless, on edge, anxious, and concerned.  But in truth, all of us, the Jewish people around the world, can’t rest comfortably, we can’t settle into a deep sleep while our people are at war, while our family members, direct and extended, are on the front lines, risking their lives, fighting an evil enemy, laying it all on the line to protect the Jewish people and the Jewish homeland. We are comforted by the knowledge that our soldiers’ faith, resolve, tenacity, determination, moral clarity, and sense of mission are unparalleled, but it is only natural to remain concerned and worried nonetheless.

These ordinary soldiers and reservists are in fact extraordinary and special people. They are motivated and inspired not by simple patriotism and nationalism, but by a deep sense of conviction that we are a people of an illustrious history and a distinct destiny.  The IDF’s soldiers are well- trained, well-armed, and well informed.  They are skilled professionals with a military superiority, but the images, videos and reports from the front lines tell of soldiers who know that the secret to their victory is not in their weapons or intelligence.  In fact, it is not in their hands, but it is in their hearts, their souls, and pouring out of their mouths.  The clips of IDF bombings and operations are powerful, but they pale in comparison to the power of the clips of soldiers putting on Tefillin, asking for tzitzis, praying, singing, dancing, and proclaiming al tirah Yisrael, don’t be afraid Israel, ein lanu al mi l’hishaein elah al Avinu She’bashamayim, we have nobody to lean on other than our Father in Heaven, anachnu ma’aminim b’nei ma’aminim, we are believers the children of believers.

 

Our soldiers know and feel that the wind at their backs, the spiritual iron dome over their heads, are the heartfelt prayers on their behalf being uttered nonstop by all of us, their brothers and sisters around the world who love them, cherish them, admire them, and feel boundless gratitude to them. 

 

To deny the potency, power, and effectiveness of Torah and Tefilla as an indispensable part of any military victory is to deny a basic foundation of our faith.  Ultimately, every area of our lives, certainly our national safety and well-being is dictated from Above and is in the hands of Hashem.  There must be no doubt that our davening, our learning, our merits have meaning, they matter, they make a difference.  Just as we know it is not the doctor nor the surgeon who heals, but it is Hashem.  It is not the lawyer who makes the winning argument or the earthly judge who decides, but true justice is served by the Heavenly Judge.  It is not the businessperson or entrepreneur who closes the deal, but it is the Senior Partner of every endeavor, Hashem.  And it is not the soldier who wins the war, but the true General, the Master of all Legions, the Ribono Shel Olam. Living with Emunah and Bitachon, tenets of our faith, means recognizing and living this axiomatic truth, recognizing that we live in a matrix of illusion, while the reality of everything comes from Hashem.

 

Of course, simultaneously, it is also true that we don’t passively wait to be healed, we don’t sit on the couch waiting for money to fall from the sky, we search out the best doctor and we take initiative to earn an income.  Excessive effort with no faith in Hashem is heresy, but claiming to rely on faith without making any legitimate effort is not genuine faith. 

 

Chazal say harbei sheluchim l’Makom, Hashem has many agents and messengers.  We must always remember that He is guiding their hand and outcome.  But, while Hashem gives the talent and strength, the shliach, the agent still puts in the effort and energy to use it and is deserving of our most basic hakaras ha’tov, our gratitude and appreciation. During a loved one’s surgery we daven and pour out our heart to Hashem.  And when it is a success we thank Him, but we have never been concerned that showing appropriate appreciation to the doctor is a contradiction to knowing that Hashem is the one who guided his hand.  Just the opposite, failing to recognize the doctor’s critical role is its own denial of Hashem’s hand. We daven that the lawyer find the right words and that the judge come to a favorable conclusion.  But we have never felt finding the best representation or preparing diligently for a case somehow contradicts the reality and truth that Hashem is the real Judge whose opinion and conclusion is the one that truly matters.  In every area of our lives, we seek to strike the balance between hishtadlus, our initiative and effort, with bitachon, trust and faith.  We see them not as a contradiction or source of confusion, but two complementary, critical elements of a Jew’s life. 

 

During this urgent time, with Am Yisroel at war, it is no different. The brave soldiers of the IDF represent our people’s initiative, they are the shlichei Hashem fighting this milchemes mitzvah to defend the Jewish people.  Remarkably, overwhelmingly, they practice their initiative powered by profound emunah and bitachon, both theirs and ours. 

 

This combination, the relationship of initiative and faith, has always been evident in our attitude to war.  Commenting on the words, וְלִזְבוּלֻ֣ן אָמַ֔ר שְׂמַ֥ח זְבוּלֻ֖ן בְּצֵאתֶ֑ךָ וְיִשָּׂשכָ֖ר בְּאֹהָלֶֽיךָ׃ עַמִּים֙ הַר־יִקְרָ֔אוּ שָׁ֖ם יִזְבְּח֣וּ זִבְחֵי־צֶ֑דֶק, “And of Zebulun he said: rejoice, O Zevulun, on your journeys, And Yissachar, in your tents, they invite their kin to the mountain, where they offer sacrifices of success,” the Chassam Sofer (Toras Moshe) comments: It can be explained that we find that Shmuel and Shaul, when they went out to war, before going out, they would offer a sacrifice for protection… And when it says, ‘Rejoice, Zevulun, in your going out to war, for Yissachar in your tents,’ it means Zevulun’s success at war will come in the merit of Yissachar’s learning in the tents.”

 

Soldiers who fight absent Am Yisroel davening and learning cannot be successful.  But it is also true that Am Yisroel learning and davening without soldiers fighting and protecting them cannot survive.  Yaakov Avinu prepared in three ways to defeat Esav, including diplomacy, preparing militarily, and davening. Dovid HaMelech, the very author of the Tehillim we passionately recite, also led an army with generals and soldiers, as did the Jewish Kings we find throughout Tanach. 

 

The Chiddushei HaRim of Ger, Rav Yitzchak Meir Alter, points out that we are called Yehudim after Yehudah specifically because we as a nation are to be characterized by an ever-present sense of gratitude, by an appreciation first and foremost of Hashem, but also of His loyal agents and emissaries who carry out His will.  There must be enough room in our hearts and on our lips to express gratitude to all.  We must be grateful to those making spiritual contributions, to those storming the Heavens, and certainly to those making extreme sacrifices, our incredible soldiers who take the ultimate risks and an army who are moseir nefesh for our people. 

 

Loving soldiers, davening for them, showing appreciating to them has always been the Torah way, it is the example our gedolim have set, and it is the responsibility we bear at this time, something that should be obvious and intuitive.  In 2005, Rav Simcha HaKohen Kook and the Bostoner Rebbe of Yerushalayim made an urgent call to have every active soldier partnered in solidarity with someone davening for their safety. They launched the “Elef Lamateh, Elef Lamateh” campaign based on a Midrash (Bamidbar Rabbah) that says for every thousand Jewish soldiers that went to fight, one thousand who remained behind matched with them and davened and learned on their behalf. 

 

In the introduction to the third volume of Tzitz Eliezer, Rav Waldenberg writes:

A shudder runs through my entire body when I think about that terrible period of the birth of the state…We the residents of Jerusalem in particular were cut off without any connection with the other cities and surrounded by enemies in the soul, who are passionate and busy as we were driven out to swallow us…There wasn’t a neighborhood that wasn’t hit and there wasn’t a street where victims didn’t fall… Glory and praise to our heroic soldiers who sacrificed their lives to fight like lions for the conquest of our holy land from foreigners and for the establishment of our state with the face of a lion, their face like deer on the mountains to hurry and with God’s help were the messengers of the Supreme Providence to carry out This historic mission, God will remember those who fell in the fulfillment of their holy mission and will enshrine in memory the glory and eternity of those who are alive with us today.

 

Rav Shach, during a visit with soldiers to his home, expressed gratitude to them, emphasizing “that you are esteemed, important people and you provide excellent protection of the Land of Israel.” He thanked them for their actions and acknowledged their contribution, stating that he stands before them in great appreciation.

 

Rav Chaim Shmulevitz (1912-1979), the Rosh Yeshiva of the Mir once said: “The Gemara (Bava Basra 10b) says about those that gave their lives defending Lod, no creature can stand in their place. It is because they sacrificed their lives for Israel. I say the same about those who sacrifice themselves for our salvation. The entire world cannot stand in their place. The obligation upon us to pray for them is boundless because, as our Sages said, ‘One who opens for his friend, his soul is obligated to him.’ All the more so for one who sacrifices his life for us. The obligation upon us is boundless.”  Rav Yitzchak Brand described that during the Six Day War, he witnessed Rav Chaim Shmulevitz stand before each soldier he saw in appreciation for their mesirus nefesh to save the Jewish people. And Rav Yisroel Lau relates how no less a Gadol Hador than Rav Shlomo Zalman Auerbach z”l, when asked about traveling to daven at Kivrei Tzadikim, would respond,In order to pray at the graves of tzadikim, one doesn’t have to travel up to the Galil. Whenever I feel the need to pray at the graves of tzadikim, I go to Mount Herzl, [the national cemetery for fallen IDF soliders in Jerusalem], to the graves of the soliders…who fell ‘Al Kiddush Hashem’ for the sanctification of G-d.”

 

In 1980, at the 6th Knessiah Gedolah of Agudas Yisroel, a special Kayl Maleh was recited for Chayalei Tzahal, the soldiers of the IDF who gave their lives al Kiddush Hashem.  It was said in the presence of Rav Shach, The Gerrer Rebbe, Rav Moshe Feinstein, Rav Yaakov Kaminetsky, Rav Ruderman, Rav Shlomo Zalman Auerbach, the Vizhnitzer Rebbe, the Slonimer Rebbe, the Modzitzer Rebbe, and the Biala Rebbe who all stood and honored the fallen soldiers.  

 

Rav Aharon Lichtenstein related that once when he returned to America and was visiting with his father-in-law, Rav Soloveitchik, he posed a series of questions from students who were serving in the IDF. One student worked in the tanks division and his job was cleaning out and maintaining the tanks. Often his uniform got covered in oil and grime and he wanted to know if he needed to change before davening Mincha, something that would be terribly inconvenient and difficult. The Rav looked at Rav Lichtenstein and wondered out loud, “Why would he need to change? He is wearing bigdei kodesh (holy clothing).”

 

Rav Yitzchak Yosef, the current Sephardic Chief Rabbi of Israel, said, “One must express gratitude that we are here in Eretz Yisroel, that we can sit and fulfill mitzvos, each as they want.  If we didn’t have security forces, if we didn’t have soldiers could we sit in quiet and study Torah,  could we educate our children?! What was here before eighty years, there was nothing, Hashem helps through them, they are shlichim of Hashem and in their merit do we sit and fulfill mitzvos and study Torah.  We must be grateful.”

 

During the Yom Kippur War, a soldier approached the holy rebbe, the Bais Yisroel of Ger z”l and shared that the soldiers are extremely cold during the night in the north.  The Bais Yisroel wished him well and gave him a bracha that he should return whole. That Sukkos, the young Gerrer student appointed to help the Rebbe heard the Bais Yisroel knocking on the door to his own home, unable to get in. The “hoiz buchir” unlocked the door and the rebbe apologized to him and explained, “The key is metal and my hands are extremely cold. I tried lifting it but I just couldn’t.”  The Sukkos weather was actually rather pleasant to so the young man asked why the Rebbe’s hand was cold.   The Rebbe explained, ever since the soldier told me it’s cold in the north and the soldiers are freezing, I have been feeling so cold.

 

When the First Lebanon War broke out, Rabbi Yisroel Zev Gustman declared that it was a milchemes mitzvah and later announced that since Jews were fighting on the front, every yeshiva student must sleep at night like soldiers, meaning a few hours and with shoes as if they were on the front lines, and not to waste even a minute.

 

Klal Yisroel has children literally putting their lives on the line every day to protect all of us. Their service involves sleepless nights, stormy weather, parents who don’t hear from their children for days, wives who have no idea if their husband will ever make it home, children who yearn for their fathers and live in constant fear, loss of life, severe injuries, and the strong risk of all of it. This is what faces our soldiers and their families daily and it is frightening.

 

If we want those whose service to the Klal right now is through learning Torah to understand the urgency of the moment and how essential their role is to Klal Yisrael’s protection, now is the time for yeshivas to consider a call for no more off shabbosim until the war is over. Maybe those who can should eliminate bein hasdorim, breaks during the day, and all should limit their breaks for coffee. Of course the yeshiva students are diligent and are no doubt having proper intentions in learning as a merit for the safety and security of the IDF and the people of Israel. But what are they doing, what are we doing, to really feel עמו אנכי בצרה, we feel the pain of our brothers?

 

Our soldiers and their families are being moseir nefesh for our cause, are we doing our part to leave our comfort zone, push ourselves, maximize our time and efforts to make our contribution?  Our soldiers are living in unimaginably limited ways, are we minimally adopting limitations on our lives to at least be nosei b’ol, feel the plight and pain and discomfort of our brothers and sisters? 

 

I was talking to a friend from our community this week and he mentioned in passing that he hasn’t had chocolate since the war started.  Each time he has a craving and is tempted to indulge, he reminds himself of the conditions the soldiers are living in and decides he can forgo a pleasure as a small way of feeling their pain. 

 

What adjustments are we making to our lives and routines to reflect that for so many of our people, nothing is normal?  Will we really indulge in an elaborate vacation during Yeshiva Week this year while a war rages for our people, or will we mute our vacation and recreation as a way of demonstrating a connection with those who haven’t had a moment off since this began?  Do our simchas reflect our condition or do they carry on as if no existential threat faces our people?  Can we complain about petty discomforts or inconveniences while members of our family are sleeping on the floor, outdoors under trees, fighting not only our enemies, but the elements like bitter cold and rain?

 

Passing up on a piece of chocolate or forgoing an elaborate vacation or business as usual simcha may not directly eliminate Hamas, but it does connect us to our people, helps us resonate with their conditions, and powers us to pour it into heartfelt tefillos, and that makes all the difference in the world.  Nothing gets a parent’s attention or response more than children caring about one another and feeling each other’s pain. 

 

The lives of our precious soldiers and of all our brothers and sisters in Israel has been interrupted and severely disrupted. Those contributing from within the walls of the Beis Medrash, and all of us wherever we are with whatever we have to offer, must push ourselves to the limit as well.  We cannot carry on in ordinary ways during these extraordinary times. 

Do Jewish Lives Matter?

In the early 20th century, universities in America, including elite Ivy league schools, imposed a Jewish quota, denying many qualified and worthy applicants’ entry, simply because they were Jewish.  For example, A. Lawrence Lowell, president of Harvard University from 1909-1933, labeled the growth of Jewish students at Harvard as the “Jew problem” and asserted that the growing number of Jewish students at Harvard would “ruin the college.” He proposed reducing the number of Jewish students at Harvard by imposing higher standards of admissions to members of “the Hebrew race.”

 

While 100 years later, Jews are admitted to college campuses, today, in many cases, they are not welcome there and simply are not safe there. Last week, Jewish students had to lock themselves in the Cooper Union library as other students chanted “Free Palestine” outside the doors and held up signs while aggressively and threateningly banging against the glass windows.  A few days ago, threatening statements about Jews on an online discussion board at Cornell University prompted officials to send police to guard a Jewish center and kosher dining hall and found Jewish students hiding in their dormitory rooms.  Jewish students at Columbia University said at a press conference this week that they had recently been subjected to a series of antisemitic incidents in recent weeks, including death threats.

 

These stories and countless others, unimaginable and unfathomable just a month ago, are now becoming the norm, not the exception, on campuses.  Shockingly, many of the hateful students are emboldened or even openly encouraged by professors who endorse and subscribe to the same ideology of hatred and attach their names and respected credentials to letters blaming Israel for October 7 and/or outright supporting Hamas. While reactions of disgust and statements of support have come from the White House, many elected leaders, and other allies, the national outrage, or mass movements that we have seen to confront other forms have hate and bigotry have not emerged.

 

To appreciate how relatively muted the reaction has been, consider the appropriate national reaction if black students were told the black student center was closed because it couldn’t be secured from the racists who threaten black students and all black students need to hide in their dorm room. Imagine Muslim students or LGBTQ students needing to lock themselves in the university library because they are being taunted and threatened. 

 

Campuses are not the only place that antisemitism is on the rise. Reuters reported that in Los Angeles, a man screaming “kill Jews” attempted to break into a family’s home. In London, girls in a playground are told they are “stinking Jews” and should stay off the slide. In China, posts likening Jews to parasites, vampires or snakes proliferate on social media, attracting thousands of supportive reactions. In countries where figures are available, like the United States, antisemitic incidents have gone up a mind-boggling 400% since Oct. 7 compared with the same period last year.

 

Jim Gaffigan, posted: “Does anyone else feel the need to call all their Jewish friends and say, Okay, you weren’t being paranoid?”  Gaffigan is a popular comedian, but his observation is no joke. 

 

In 2017, following the exposure of numerous abuse allegations against high profile individuals, the #Metoo movement swept the country with millions using the phrase and hashtag first in English and soon after in dozens of other languages.  A groundswell of support emerged to stand with victims of abuse and to make clear it would not be tolerated.

 

In 2013, the hashtag  #BlackLivesMatter began after the acquittal of George Zimmerman in the shooting death of Trayvon Martin. The movement returned to the headlines and gained international attention during the George Floyd protests in 2020.  That year, 67% of Americans expressed support for the Black Lives Matter movement.

 

Where are these same voices to defend the Jews? Where is the sweeping outrage, where is the birth of a movement to stand with Jewish lives while there are growing explicit vile threats against innocent Jewish lives?  Why hasn’t #JewishLivesMatter gone viral?  Where are the demands to defund campuses, where is the call to cancel antisemites and Hamas sympathizers? 

 

We would like to believe that the overwhelming majority on campuses and off of them, around America and the world, are decent and moral, disturbed by what happened in Israel and the ripple effects elsewhere. But being disturbed is not enough. Sitting on the sidelines is unacceptable. As Shai Davidai, a professor at Columbia whose passionate speech about campuses not being safe for Jewish students recently went viral, eloquently put it, “To the silent majority: I think we need to talk about your silence.”

 

We need all good people to speak up, act up, confront antisemitism and antisemites and be intolerant of the intolerable. We need a #JewishLivesMatter movement, a sweeping campaign to confront antisemitism and protect Jews everywhere.

 

Elie Wiesel once said: “We must take sides. Neutrality helps the oppressor, never the victim. Silence encourages the tormentor, never the tormented. Sometimes we must interfere. When human lives are endangered, when human dignity is in jeopardy, national borders and sensitivities become irrelevant. Wherever men and women are persecuted because of their race, religion, or political views, that place must – at that moment – become the center of the universe.”

 

At this moment, standing with Israel and the Jewish people is the center of the universe. As antisemitism grows everywhere, I know how much it means to me to see each and every gesture and demonstration of solidarity with our people and our homeland.  Those who are not indifferent are indeed making a difference.  I opened my front door this week and saw my non-Jewish landscaper riding his lawn mower with Israeli flags flying from it.  An older non-Jewish couple in Ft. Lauderdale airport stopped me to say how upset they are by what is happening and that they stand with the Jewish people and Israel. A video of a non-Jewish construction worker in New York standing up for us and aggressively confronting someone taking down pictures of kidnapped hostages has warmed our hearts.

 

The position we as a people are collectively in right now is a grave cause of concern, and it should and must motivate us to speak up and fight for ourselves.  More than that, it should also inspire us to think about how we feel, what we are going through, and to remember this experience when another group, race, or minority finds itself confronting its enemies.  If even small gestures are meaningful to us, we must express them to others in the future who need to know they aren’t alone or on their own.  If solidarity matters, we must stand with those who are targeted in the future.

 

In last week’s Parsha, when Hashem tests Avraham by asking him to leave his home and all that he knows, He promises to make Avraham great, to bless him and also v’heyei beracha, to be a blessing.  What does it mean to be a blessing? It can’t mean to be blessed because that was already said with avarechecha, I will bless you?  Rav Samson Raphael Hirsch explains that Hashem was not only promising Avraham that he would be blessed, but at the same time was challenging Avraham to take his experience, to learn from his own story and to use it to become a blessing for others.  Others pursue being blessed, satisfying their wants and needs and finding their own happiness.  To be progeny of Avraham is to take our experiences and to pursue becoming a blessing in other people’s lives, using it to help others find justice, security, and ultimately happiness.

 

In this week’s Parsha, Avraham is a blessing by advocating for and protesting on behalf of Sedom.  When Hashem reveals His intent to destroy this corrupt city and society, Avraham doesn’t passively accept with indifference.  He objects, protests, and negotiates on their behalf. 

 

As we find ourselves in this urgent time, a crisis for our people not only in Israel but around the world, we are fair and just in expecting more from the world, in demanding outrage, support and solidarity.  But at the same time, we must demand of ourselves to take this experience and feeling and to be a blessing for others who will need us to be outraged, support and stand in solidarity with them. 

Israel Has Changed Forever, Have You?

While the primary horrors and atrocities in Israel occurred on October 7, the fallout and aftershocks are continuing every single day. Despite Hamas literally videoing, promoting, and memorialize their brutal and heinous attack using all kinds of media, there are still people questioning the scale and depravity of the massacre.  In response, Israel held a stunning session for the international press sharing gruesome images of the atrocity so that journalists could document in an undeniable way what happened.  Eylon Levy, an Israeli government spokesman, in a video announcing the session, said, “As we work to defeat the terror organization that brutalized our people, we are witnessing a Holocaust denial-like phenomenon evolving in real time as people are casting doubt on the magnitude of the atrocities that Hamas committed against our people, and in fact recorded in order to glorify that violence.”

 

The infiltration, casualties, number of hostages, relentless barrage of rockets, continuous attacks from Gaza and from Lebanon are indeed great reasons for concern, prayers, effort, and support.  The world is coming to learn what Israel has known for a long time: she is surrounded by enemies who seek her utter destruction and annihilation.  The infamous Hamas charter, written in 1988, doesn’t speak of disputed territory, it reads like the Protocols of the Elders of Zion and calls for a genocide against Jews.  Hezbollah, Iran and other terror organizations and individuals in the West Bank and elsewhere speak of “from the river to the sea,” a non-subtle euphemism for the destruction of all of Israel. 

 

The last two weeks have seen countless headlines and analyses of the risks of a ground invasion, potential implications for the North in the event of a full-scale war and the possibilities of other nations like Iran or Syria getting involved.  Indeed, there is so much to worry about, work on, daven for, and care about. 

 

But, here is the thing.  While I daven, advocate, and lose sleep over the safety and security our brothers and sisters right now, I am not worried about the long-term future of Israel.  Israel is incredibly resilient, capable, powerful, tenacious, fierce, smart, cunning and strong.  Israel will persevere, the IDF will triumph, the people, though deeply wounded, will bounce back.  These horrific atrocities have brought the people of Israel together, fostered a united country and people.  (I had the privilege to represent our shul and our community this week by bringing supplies, goods, toys, hugs, and love to IDF soldiers and displaced citizens this week. I saw with my own eyes resolve, achdus, and energy the likes of which cannot be believed. I look forward to sharing more with you about this trip in the coming days.)

 

The people of Israel have revealed that underneath the important, often vociferous debate, is a nation of profound faith, unity and conviction.  Israel will emerge stronger than ever.

 

This week’s Parsha is filled with pesukim and stories that feel so relevant today: Avraham first settling in Israel, Hashem promising the land to Avraham and his descendants, the birth of Yishmael and the fateful promise about his future. One of the central highlights is the Bris Bein Habesarim, the “Covenant of Parts,” in which Hashem tells Avraham about the destiny of his descendants: the slavery and suffering they would endure, and the subsequent redemption and settlement in Israel. The Torah describes how Avraham cut up a calf, a ram, and a goat, but ואת הצפור לא בתר – he did not cut the turtledove that was part of the covenant. Rashi explains that Psukim in Tanach compare other nations to calves, to rams, and to goats, and the Jewish people are compared to doves. The animals representing the other nations were cut up, representing their eventual demise. Why wasn’t the bird cut? רֶמֶז שֶׁיִּהְיוּ יִשְֹרָאֵל קַיָּמִין לְעוֹלָם – To symbolize the promise of the Jewish nation’s everlasting future.

 

A video clip was circulating this week of an address given by Rabbi Lord Jonathan Sacks zt”l, whose third yahrtzeit is next week. So many have expressed how much we miss Rabbi Sacks at times like these, and it brought such comfort hearing his voice at an AIPAC policy conference ten years ago, delivering chizzuk with remarks that sound like they could  have been given this week:

 

I have to tell you that what we grew up with, “never again,” is beginning to sound like “ever again.” And at the heart of it is hostility to Israel. Of course, not all criticism of Israel is anti-Semitic. But make no mistake what has happened.

 

In the Middle Ages Jews were hated because of their religion. In the 19th century and the 20th, they were hated because of their race. Today, when it’s no longer done to hate people for their religion or their race, today they are hated because of their State. The reason changes, but the hate stays the same. Anti-Zionism is the new anti-Semitism. …

 

Today what is at stake in Israel’s survival is the future of freedom itself. Because make no mistake, this will be the defining battle of the 21st century, which will prevail: the will to power with its violence, terror, missiles, and bombs; or the will to life with its hospitals, schools, freedoms, and rights. …

 

Every time I visit Israel I find among Israelis, secular or religious, an absolute unswerving dedication to Moshe Rabbenu’s great command Uvacharta Bachayim, “Choose life.” Israel is the sustained defiance of hatred and power in the name of life because we are the people who sanctify life. …

 

Judaism is the defeat of probability by the power of possibility. And nowhere will you see the power of possibility more than in the State of Israel today. Israel has taken a barren land and made it bloom again. Israel has taken an ancient language, the language of the Bible, and make it speak again. Israel has taken the West’s oldest faith and made it young again. Israel has taken a shattered nation and make it live again. Friends, let us not rest until Israel’s light shines throughout the world, the world’s great symbol of life and hope.

 

While we must not stop davening, donating, supporting and visiting, Israel will ultimately be ok.  The real question is what will happen next for those Jews living outside of Israel?  While even before October 7, everyone knew about the enemies surrounding Israel, few of us truly knew how many enemies were living in our midst and how, given the opportunity, they would boldly and brazenly rear their ugly heads and ideas. 

 

Surely, we thought, taking sides on an issue so clear and obvious like supporting innocent civilians, elderly, children and women who were victims of a series of pogroms and systematic murders versus associating with and sympathizing with, or full-on endorsing wicked and evil terrorists, the choice would be clear. Even if one was regularly critical of Israel and supportive of Palestinian statehood, surely it would be simple to condemn objective atrocities and express sympathy for butchered civilians and kidnapped hostages.

 

Instead, the last two weeks have been an enormous wakeup call to Jews of the Diaspora.  Ivy League universities, once considered bastions of intellectualism, centers of sophistication, capitals of progress and advancement have abandoned their Jewish students, failing to protect them from Hamas-sympathizing fellow students and professors.  Long considered spiritually dangerous for Torah Jews, college campuses and others are now literally dangerous physically for those who proudly identify as Jews or supporters of Israel.   Every day seems to bring new stories that should shake us all. An Israeli at Columbia got beaten with a stick. Jewish students at Cooper Union were locked in a library while a horde of threatening students, some encouraged by professors, banged on the doors and windows.  Jews on campuses across the country are being threatened, harassed, and physically intimidated, while the academics at these institutions issue statements about “escalations of violence” at best or simply casting Hamas’s atrocities as “resistance” and blaming Israel for everything that happened on October 7 at worst. One professor at a prestigious college gave a horrifying speech, captured on video, in which he described feeling “exhilarated” watching the events of October 7 unfold.

 

The images and videos of pro Hamas rallies in cities across the US, Europe and around the world is shocking, jarring, and downright scary. They have included swastikas and actual calls to “gas the Jews.”  We learned that for some, while Black Lives Matter and some other forms of prejudice are so serious and have zero tolerance, Jewish lives don’t matter and antisemitism is open for debate, as organizations purportedly devoted to civil rights and justice were unashamed to celebrate terrorists who paraglided into a rave killing 260 innocent people.   We experienced a legacy media that abandoned journalistic principles and practices, all too eager to swallow and regurgitate Hamas propaganda without verification or substantiation. 

 

We witnessed elected Congresspeople stand with the perpetrators over the victims and spread a blood libel falsely accusing Israel of striking a hospital, actions with real consequences. 

 

Of course, we have also witnessed extraordinary expressions and demonstrations of support, from the majority of Congress who passionately and compassionately stand with Israel, to President Biden who has demonstrated enormous support by traveling into a war, asking for significant funding for Israel and steadfastly supporting Israel’s right to defend herself, to zealous advocacy for Israel from many elected officials, including those who stand to alienate themselves in their parties and caucuses, including Congressman Ritchie Torres.  We have seen billionaires withdraw their funding and their longstanding ties with universities and institutions that are underserving of them.  We have experienced media who were moved to tears over what happened in Israel.


Yes, there are reasons to be hopeful and optimistic but with all the enemies that Israel faces, the safety, security and rights of the Jews in the diaspora feel the most vulnerable and fragile of any point in my lifetime. 

 

Of course, the simple answer to the now-revealed condition of Jews around the world is to move to Israel.  Certainly, Israel is our homeland, it is our destiny, and now more than ever we should recognize it should be part of each of our final destinations.  Even if we don’t live in Israel now, Aliyah must be a question not of if, but of when, for all of us. 

 

However, realistically, just as throughout our history there were multiple centers of Jewish life and Torah, the likelihood is that the millions of Jews living in the Diaspora are not picking up and moving tomorrow.  So what will be?  How should we confront the new reality we have seen?  While spiritually and now physically unsafe, are there consequences of having universities and college campuses that have no Jewish students, nobody to advocate for Israel, no representatives of our people?  Is there more we can do to ensure terrorist sympathizers aren’t elected to any office in this country?  Is cancelling subscriptions to legacy media that has a clear bias enough or can more be done to hold journalists accountable?  And perhaps most importantly, have the rallies and people despicably tearing down posters of kidnapped Jews changed our security considerations at our Shuls, schools and Jewish communities?  Do we continue to trust our outstanding local law enforcement and intelligence who protect us or does our sobering new reality demand elevated security measures for ourselves?

 

I don’t have answers to these questions, but they need to be consistently spoken about and considered.  Israel has changed forever, but so has the world of those who don’t yet live there.

 

 

 

 

Don’t Just Sing Am Yisrael Chai, Live It!

When the Jews of Bergen-Belsen concentration camp were liberated on April 20th 1945, they sang Hatikvah. At the end of the anthem, British Army Chaplain Rabbi Leslie Hardman, cried out, “Am Yisrael Chai – the People of Israel live!”

 

When Golda Meir visited the Great Synagogue in Moscow as the Israeli Ambassador in 1948, the crowd of 50,000 ecstatically welcomed her with shouts of “Am Yisrael Chai!”

 

In 1965, in order to energize the Soviet Jewry movement, Shlomo Carlebach was asked to compose a song. He wrote the famous version of Am Yisrael Chai.

 

In 2009, Prime Minister Netanyahu visited Wannsee Villa in Berlin, where the Final Solution for the destruction of Europe’s Jews was planned in 1942 by Hitler and leaders of the Third Reich. In the visitors’ book he wrote just three words in Hebrew and then translated them into English: “Am Yisrael Chai – The people of Israel live.”

 

As a slogan, Am Yisrael Chai affirms that despite the systematic attempts to exterminate and annihilate the Jewish people, thanks to God’s guiding hand and the tenacity and resilience of the Jewish People, we stubbornly persevere. God has made an eternal covenant with the Jewish People; He has their back.

 

Am Yisrael Chai is also a tefilla, a longing for a united Jewish people living together in safety, security and with unity and harmony.

 

Explaining the words “I will take you to Me as an “עם”, a people (Shemos 6:7), Rav Soloveitchik writes:

The political-historical unity as a nation is based on the conclusion of the covenant in Mitzrayim, which occurred even prior to the giving of the Torah at Sinai.  This covenant forced upon us all one uniform historical fate. The Hebrew word עם Am, nation, is identical to the Hebrew word עם Im, with. Our fate of unity manifests itself through a historical indispensable union…No Jew can renounce his part of the unity…Religious Jews or irreligious Jews, all are included in one nation, which stands lonesome and in misery in a large and often antagonistic world…

In the ashes of the crematoria, the ashes of the Chasidim and pious Jews were put together with the ashes of the radicals and the atheists. And we all must fight the enemy, who does not differentiate between those who believe in God and those who reject Him.

 

The secret to a strong Am Yisrael is a sense of Im Yisrael, being in it together, united, loyal, giving one another the benefit of the doubt and judging each other favorably.


The Torah relates that at the end of the first day of creation, ויהי ערב ויהי בוקר, יום אחד – “It was evening and it was morning; the first day” (1:5).  Rav Zev of Strikov advances a beautiful chassidic reading of this pasukערב (evening) represents the gloom of exile, periods when we are thrust into “darkness,” struggling, suffering, and in distress.  בוקר (morning), then, symbolizes the “light” of the redemption, the joy of salvation.  The way we proceed from ערב to בוקר, from the darkness of suffering to the light of redemption, is יום אחד – having days of oneness, days of achdus, unity, togetherness. 

This is a major gut check moment for those who live outside of Israel.  Do we feel connected to the plight of our brothers and sisters there? Are we in profound pain by the events unfolding?  Are our lives severely interrupted and different while this is going on? 

The Rambam (Hilchos Teshuva 3:11) writes that a person who vigilantly and righteously observes Jewish law, but separates himself from the Jewish People, has no portion in the World to Come.  How does he define separating from the people?  Someone who doesn’t identify with the tzarah, with the crisis and tragedy Jews are enduring, has no portion in the World to Come. 

There is so much we can and must be doing.  We are all called to serve in this war, our courageous and brave heroes on the front lines but also Jews and decent people everywhere in the world.  Daven, learn, send funds and supplies, text, call and check in on family and friends in Israel.  Rally, advocate, write letters in gratitude to elected officials and media who are getting it right, and stand up to and protest those who are grossly wrong.

As we recite in the beracha of יוצר אור each morning, עושה שלום ובורא את הכל (“Maker of peace and Creator of everything”) – once there is shalom, then there is “everything.”  If we are embroiled in conflict and strife, we will remain in darkness.  It is only when we transcend our differences and join together in mutual love and harmony that we can emerge from ערב to בוקר, from the darkness of exile to the light of redemption.

It must be clarified that unity does not mean uniformity.  We do not need to be the same, act the same, think the same, or hold the same opinions, in order to achieve the “light” of יום אחד.  We need simply to focus on all that we share in common – which far exceeds that about which we disagree – and build and strengthen our bonds of friendship despite our relatively few differences.

Rabbi Yisrael Meir Lau, standing in Auschwitz-Birkenau at the March of the Living several years ago said, “We always knew how to die together. The time has come for us to know also how to live together.”

During this most difficult time, may the people of Israel learn to live with one another in harmony and unity. Am Yisrael Chai!

 

The Meaning of Am Yisrael Chai

When the Jews of Bergen-Belsen concentration camp were liberated on April 20th 1945, they sang Hatikvah. At the end of the anthem, British Army Chaplain Rabbi Leslie Hardman, cried out, “Am Yisrael Chai – the People of Israel live!”

 

Jews in Bergen-Belsen singing Hatikvah

 

When Golda Meir visited the Great Synagogue in Moscow as the Israeli Ambassador in 1948, the crowd of 50,000 ecstatically welcomed her with shouts of “Am Yisrael Chai!”

 

Golda Meir in Moscow

 

In 1965, in order to energize the Soviet Jewry movement, Shlomo Carlebach was asked to compose a song. He wrote the famous version of Am Yisrael Chai.

 

In 2009, Prime Minister Netanyahu visited Wannsee Villa in Berlin, where the Final Solution for the destruction of Europe’s Jews was planned in 1942 by Hitler and leaders of the Third Reich. In the visitors’ book he wrote just three words in Hebrew and then translated them into English: “Am Yisrael Chai – The people of Israel live.”

 

As a slogan, Am Yisrael Chai affirms that despite the systematic attempts to exterminate and annihilate the Jewish people, thanks to God’s guiding hand and the tenacity and resilience of the Jewish People, we stubbornly persevere. God has made an eternal covenant with the Jewish People; He has their back.

 

Am Yisrael Chai is also a tefilla, a longing for a united Jewish people living together in safety, security and with unity and harmony.

 

Explaining the words “I will take you to Me as an “עם” a people (Shemos 6:7), Rav Soloveitchik writes:

The political-historical unity as a nation is based on the conclusion of the covenant in Mitzrayim, which occurred even prior to the giving of the Torah at Sinai.  This covenant forced upon us all one uniform historical fate. The Hebrew word עם Am, nation, is identical to the Hebrew word עם Im, with. Our fate of unity manifests itself through a historical indispensable union…No Jew can renounce his part of the unity…Religious Jews or irreligious Jews, all are included in one nation, which stands lonesome and in misery in a large and often antagonistic world…

In the ashes of the crematoria, the ashes of the Chasidim and pious Jews were put together with the ashes of the radicals and the atheists. And we all must fight the enemy, who does not differentiate between those who believe in God and those who reject Him.

 

The secret to a strong Am Yisrael is a sense of Im Yisrael, being in it together, united, loyal, giving one another the benefit of the doubt and judging each other favorably.

 

Rabbi Yisrael Meir Lau, standing in Auschwitz-Birkenau at the March of the Living several years ago said, “We always knew how to die together. The time has come for us to know also how to live together.”

 

During this most difficult time, may the people of Israel learn to live with one another in harmony and unity. Am Yisrael Chai!

 

More Than Just a Nod at the Airport

It happens in airports around the world, or in random places including national parks, hospitals, convention centers, and sporting events. You see each other from a distance.  As you get closer, you lock eyes for a moment and finally when you pass, you both knowingly bow your head a bit, maybe exchange a smile as well. Sometimes, it can be accompanied by a greeting—”shalom,” “shalom aleichem,” maybe if it is Thursday or Friday a “good Shabbos”—but often it is a silent nod, a quiet, yet deeply meaningful gesture of more than just an association, but rather a real connection.  That nod is a moment in the present that acknowledges a common past and a shared future.

 

I don’t believe any other race, culture, or ethnicity practices the nod.  Asian Americans who don’t know each other pass each other, African Americans, Hispanics, Christians, Muslims, Buddhists… I have never seen them nod, bow their heads, or offer a greeting. 

 

The number of Jews worldwide stands at approximately 15.3 million, still less than before World War II, with 7,080,000 living in Israel and about 8.25 million outside Israel, including approximately 6 million in the United States.  Professor Sergio Della Pergola of the Hebrew University of Jerusalem, the foremost expert on Jewish demography, posits that if not for the Holocaust, the number of Jews in the world would likely today be at least 32 million.  Indeed, if not for our history of expulsions, persecutions, pogroms, and systematic attempts at our extermination, the number could and should be much higher than that, in the hundreds of millions.

 

The bottom line is there aren’t that many of us.  And so, when we pass each other, we don’t see strangers, we don’t focus on differences of dress, observance or Hashkafa.  We see a long-lost member of our family, someone we are excited to unite with, if only for a moment.  We are often in unfamiliar places when we see someone we have never met, yet who feels so familiar and we nod. (And we don’t think twice about asking this “stranger” to watch our bag while we buy a drink or use the restroom, such is our inherent trust in our extended family.)

 

This week, we will observe Shiva Assar B’Tammuz, the fast day that will launch three weeks of mourning, grieving, and reflecting on the historic and spiritual cause of why we remain so few in number.

 

On April 11, 1944, a young Anne Frank wrote in her diary:

 

Who has made us Jews different from all other people? Who has allowed us to suffer so terribly until now? It is God Who has made us as we are, but it will be God, too, who will raise us up again. Who knows – it might even be our religion from which the world and all peoples learn good, and for that reason and that reason alone do we now suffer. We can never become just Netherlanders, or just English, or representatives of any other country for that matter. We will always remain Jews.

 

Anne Frank was on to something. The Talmud asks, from where did Mount Sinai derive its name? After offering a few alternatives, the Talmud suggests that Mount Sinai comes from Hebrew word “sinah” which means hatred, because the non-Jews’ hatred of the Jews descended upon that mountain when the Jewish people received the Torah there.

 

Torah demands a moral and ethical lifestyle, an attitude of giving rather than taking, a life of service rather than of privilege, that has revolutionized the world. The Jewish people have been charged to be the moral conscience of the world, a mission they have not always succeeded at, but that nevertheless drew the ire, anger and hatred of so many. For two thousand years the Jews were bullied and persecuted simply because of their Jewishness and all that it stands for.

 

After the Holocaust, the world gave the Jews a reprieve from their hatred, and for a while we instead were beneficiaries of the world’s pity. But looking at events around the globe, it is rapidly becoming clear that the last 70 years was an aberration. We are witnessing the rise of antisemitism as the world reverts back to its ageless pattern and habit.

 

The Midrash (Eichah Rabbah 1) teaches that three prophets used the term “eichah” – o how! In Devarim, Moshe asks: “Eichah, how can I alone bear your troubles, your burden and your strife?” (Devarim 1:12) In the Haftorah for Shabbos Chazon, the Prophet Yeshayahu asks: “Eichah, how has the faithful city become like a prostitute?” Lastly, Yirmiyahu begins the Book of Eichah: “Eichah, how is it that Jerusalem is sitting in solitude! The city that was filled with people has become like a widow…”

 

Eicha – How? How is it that antisemitism persists? Why must they rise up against us in every generation? On Tisha B’Av we will sit on the floor and wonder aloud, eicha? How could it be Jews have to fear for their lives yet again? Eicha – how could it be that today, with all the progress humanity has made, antisemitic views are on the rise and becoming more and more acceptable? Eicha – how could it be that terror persists, that innocent and beautiful people are being murdered guilty only of being Jewish?

  

Rabbi Soloveitchik tells us that though the Midrash identifies three times the word eicha is used, in truth there is a fourth. When Adom and Chava fail to take responsibility, Hashem calls out to them and says ayeka, where are you? Ayeka is spelled with the same letters as eicha, leading Rabbi Soloveitchik to say that when we don’t answer the call of ayeka, when we don’t take personal responsibility for our problems and blame others, we will ultimately find ourselves asking eicha, how could it be?

 

We can ask eicha, how could all of these terrible things be, but we may never have a definitive answer. Our job is to make sure we can answer the call of ayeka, where are you? Are you taking responsibility?

 

We may not be able to fully understand why antisemitism exists, but we can and must remain vigilant in fighting it. We must remain strong in standing up for Jews everywhere. We must confront evil and do all we can to defeat it. And above all, we must do all that we can to take personal responsibility to fulfill the Jewish mission to bring Godliness into the world.

  

Our job is not to be discouraged by asking eicha, but to ensure that we can answer the call of ayeka. Antisemitism will not come to an end by assimilating and retreating. It will come to an end when we can positively answer the question that the Talmud tells us each one of us will be asked when we meet our Maker: did you long for the redemption and did you personally take responsibility to do all that you can to bring the redemption? Did you truly feel the pain of exile and feel the anguish of the Jewish condition in the world? Do you truly and sincerely care? Did you anxiously await every day for Moshiach to herald in an era of peace and harmony, an end to antisemitism and suffering, to bring about Jewish unity and love, to repair and redeem this world in Hashem’s image?

 

It isn’t enough to nod at Jews whom we never met and with whom we aren’t about to forge a relationship. We need to offer more than a nod but a hug to those we engage regularly, those who are similar, whose children go to the same school, who daven in the same minyan, who believe and observe just like us, and even more importantly those who make different choices for themselves and their families but who are forever part of our family.  In public places our natural inclination is to focus on what we have in common with a fellow Jew and nod. Why is it in our more private lives we are drawn to see our differences and negate? 

 

Fast on Shiva Assar B’Tammuz and fast on Tisha B’av if still necessary, but in between, don’t just abstain from music, haircuts and shaving, engage in going beyond your comfort zone to invite, host, befriend or connect with a fellow Jew who is different than you.

 

It is not enough to hope for redemption, we must be the catalyst for it. It is not enough to be tired of eicha, we must answer ayeka.

Bud Light, Hobby Lobby, Angel Bakery and You: Representing the Brand

If you are boycotting a product, company or service because you are angry, frustrated, disappointed, or committed to your principles, you are far from alone.  According to a recent survey, a quarter of Americans are boycotting a product or company they had spent money on in the past. Some are taking a political position, others a stance on social issues, and the result is more and more people are expressing themselves through their wallets.

 

Last month, Bud Light learned this directly. They launched a sponsorship partnership with actor and TikTok influencer Dylan Mulvaney, a transgender activist, which provoked strong backlash against Anheuser-Busch, the parent company of Budweiser and maker of Bud Light.  Bud Light sales plummeted with calls for boycotts until the company ultimately pulled the campaign and put their Vice President of Marketing on leave of absence. 

 

Founded in 1970, Hobby Lobby is the largest privately owned arts-and-crafts retailer in the world, with over 43,000 employees operating in 48 states. It was started by David and Barbara Green, devout Evangelicals who list as the first of the company’s core values: “Honoring the Lord in all we do by operating in a manner consistent with Biblical principles.” 

 

Hobby Lobby has been at the center of several national controversies as a result of taking strong positions on (and in some cases litigating) issues from contraceptives, LGBT, publicly endorsing Trump, and taking out an ad calling for a Christian-run government.  In recent years, Hobby Lobby has confronted countless calls for boycotts. 

 

The boycott movement has made its way to Israel.  Among my earliest memories of visiting Israel is eating a delicious rugelach from Angel’s Bakery. The iconic bakery, Israel’s largest, produces 275,000 loaves of bread and 275,000 rolls daily and controls 30 percent of Israel’s bread market. Founded in 1927 in Mandatory Palestine by Salomon Angel, Angel’s Bakery today exports to the United States, United Kingdom, France, Belgium, and Denmark.

 

Last week, outside supermarkets in major cities in Israel, boxes of Angel’s products remained untouched, and a growing number of high-volume customers, particularly large Yeshivas, were cancelling orders. A huge order for Meron for about 50 million NIS was reportedly canceled. 

 

What happened?  Was an Angel’s product found to be contaminated?  Was there a Kashrus violation?  Were workers being underpaid or mistreated? The controversy had nothing to do with ingredients, kashrus, or employee conduct.  The source of the boycott that could cost the company potentially hundreds of millions of shekel was a social media post by the company’s chairman of the board, Omer Bar-Lev.

 

Bar-Lev, a longtime Labor Party politician and former Minister of Public Security, participated in a protest outside the Bnei Brak home of Rav Gershon Edelstein, considered by the Chareidi community to be the Gadol HaDor.  Bar-Lev posted a picture of himself with the “Brothers in Arms” protest group on Twitter, writing, “Beyond and in addition to the importance of military service to everyone, the law of “No equality in the burden” [i.e., the Draft Law] that the coalition intends to enact is the bribe of [Prime Minister Benjamin] Netanyahu and [Finance Minister Yariv] Levin to the Haredi parties so that they will vote in favor of the coup d’état.”

 

Charedi politicians immediately expressed outrage, with United Torah Judaism MK Moshe Gafni tweeting, “Omer Bar-Lev and Angel’s have no respect for the Torah! You should seriously consider whether you can trust their kashrut. Bar-Lev does not understand what the Torah is and what is great in the Torah and everyone has to calculate whether it is possible to buy food products from them. I despise him!”

 

Labor Minister Yoav Ben-Tzur (Shas) attacked Bar-Lev as well, saying “Freedom of expression is not the freedom of humiliation, Omer Bar-Lev and the group of privileged people who demonstrated outside the house of Rabbi Gershon Edelstein disgraced the honor of the Torah and there is no forgiveness for that.”

 

The call for boycotting Angel’s was swift and the response and cooperation came quickly, sending a loud message not only to Bar-Lev, but also the board of directors and management of Angel’s. 

 

Some have pushed back expressing support for Angel’s and Bar-Lev.  Yisrael Beiteinu chairman Avigdor Lieberman posted two pictures of himself purchasing challah in Angel’s, writing: “On the way home, I stopped to buy challos for Shabbat in Angel’s Bakery. As far as I know, the State of Israel is still defined as a democracy and people are allowed to express their opinions. We won’t allow Charedi askanim to harm the livelihood of Israeli citizens.”

 

This story has not yet concluded, and it remains unclear if Bar-Lev will walk back his post or even resign, or if he will double down and hope that the Bakery will weather the storm. 

 

Whatever your personal opinion on judicial reform, the proposed draft law and any of the other issues being highly contested in Israel, this episode raises what I think is a fascinating question.  

 

When it comes to Bud Light and Hobby Lobby, I understand why people wouldn’t want to patronize or support companies that formally take positions or support policies they strongly disagree with. The episode of Angel’s Bakery, however, seems different. The company didn’t advocate a position, didn’t partner with an activist, and didn’t launch a provocative or controversial marketing campaign.  The company did not express any position about the Draft Law or judicial reform. A private individual, not acting as a representative of the company, expressed his opinion, whether you agree with it or not. 

 

Should we boycott every business or hold every company accountable for the personal opinions of its board members?  Do we look into the campaign contributions, analyze social media posts, and track every company executive before deciding if we should purchase from that brand?  What about the other board members, management, or high-level employees, how far in the company should we go?

 

While those questions may seem extreme, it seems Bar-Lev made waves specifically because he is the chairman of Angel’s, the current face of the company.  When he took on that role, he accepted that he would be synonymous with the brand and that his choices, actions, social media posts, and statements, implicit and explicit, would be associated with the company he chairs.  Being the face of a company or brand means people will feel either more aligned or more alienated to the company based on the impression you leave.  And fair or unfair, that must be considered before every post, position, or participation.

 

What’s true for Bar-Lev is true for each and every one of us.  We may not have signed up for it but being Jewish means you are the face of our brand, you are synonymous with the Jewish people and with our values, our Torah, and most of all our Creator.  When people have positive experiences with you and impressions of you, they will think more highly about the Jewish people and Hashem.  If they have a negative interaction or experience with you, they won’t only harbor impressions or feelings about you, but by association they will think more critically about our whole people.

 

We read just last week, v’lo sechalelu es shem kodshi v’nikdashti besoch b’nei Yisroel, do not desecrate Hashem’s Holy Name, instead, sanctify His name among the Jewish people.  Rav Pam noted that these words appear adjacent to the expression Ushemartem mitzvosai v’asisem osam, observe My laws and perform them because the greatest  responsibility to “represent” the brand, the people who will most be associated with the total Jewish people and our Torah, are the observant community.  Rabbeinu Bechayei notes that there is no middle ground, no neutral. There are only two alternatives provided.  With every speech, action and behavior, we are either helping the brand or hurting it, advancing our cause or setting it back, bringing people closer to Hashem and His Torah or causing them to feel further away.

 

Every time we grab the keyboard to post or proverbial microphone to demonstrate, we need to know, we are the chairman, one wrong move and others could boycott what we hold most dear.  

Rabbi Efrem Goldberg

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