The Long, Big Picture of Jewish History

On Wednesday night we hosted the Hollywood launch of the OU’s GenAleph parenting program (https://genaleph.org ). One strategy Dr. Norman Blumenthal mentioned for dealing with the stress and anxiety brought on by the current situation in Israel (in adults and children) is to try to remind ourselves of the resilience of the Jewish People throughout our history. Rav Hirsch makes a similar point from Parshat Lech Lecha. Rabbi Samson Raphael Hirsch says there is significance in the fact that G-d told Avraham, the first Jew, to go out and look at the stars.

If a person is accustomed only to looking at “our world”, at earth, he gets into a mode of thinking that everything is “nature”. The sun rises in the morning and sets in the evening. There are laws of physics. Everything is a set pattern that is never broken.

This natural order of things is perhaps appropriate for the nations of the world, but it is not appropriate for Klal Yisroel.

“You, Avraham, have to go out and look at the stars.”

Amidst the vast constellations, one has a clearer view of the Hand of G-d. One becomes more aware that there is a concept of Hashgocha Pratit, Divine Providence- that there is a G-d out there who directs and takes interest in a person’s and a nation’s life.

As Rav Hirsch puts it: “Therefore, maybe Avraham, it appears to you that you are childless. Maybe by looking merely at this earth and this world, you get into the mindset that ‘I am childless I never have had children; I never will have children.’ But look up into the Heaven, into the realm of the stars where that Hand of G-d is more apparent. That is your lot Avraham, and the lot of your children. Yours is not a destiny and a future of ‘Nature’ (teva), it is a ‘super-natural’ (L’ma-ala min haTeva) destiny and future.”

Some have noted that Avraham was born in the Hebrew year 1948. And 75 years later (in the jewish year of 2023) Hashem told Avraham that the destiny of his descendants would be in the Land of Israel. In the secular year of 1948 the State of Israel was born. Now 75 years later we are being called upon to recommit to focus on Israel, support her and make clear to the world that the Divine promise to Avraham lives on in the modern Jewish homeland.

 When one looks at history, where are the Egyptians, the Phoenicians, the Babylonians? Where are all these great powers that ruled the world? There is only one nation that is still around after 4,000 years. That is Klal Yisroel. This is ‘above the course of nature’. This is what G-d wanted Avraham to see by looking at the stars: Jewish history and Jewish destiny defies logic and rules of history. We must do what we can but ultimately we can rely on no one but Hashem Himself.

Bringing Out Our Best- Even After the Stress

After the flood, Noach sends a dove to see if the waters have cleared. At first the dove does not find any sanctuary and returns to the ark. The Midrash explains that the Jewish People are likened to a dove. Just as the dove from Noah’s Ark at first found no rest, so too the Jewish People find no rest in exile. Unfolding events in Israel have left the Jewish People particularly restless and anxious.

Though we are blessed to witness Jewish sovereignty over our Jewish homeland, current events remind us that the Geulah Sheleimah, complete redemption, has yet to arrive. These days Geulah seems very far off.

Our Torah reading depicts a drastic transformation in Noach’s character- for the worse.  At first Noach is described as an ish tzadik, a righteous man, who courageously opposed the corrupt values and lifestyle of his contemporaries and charted his own path of piety and morality. 

By the time we arrive at the latter part of the parsha, however, something has changed.  This downward slide begins when he plants a vineyard after the flood, and hits bottom when he becomes intoxicated and humiliates himself in the presence of his sons.  What happened? Why the drastic change for the worse?

Rav Aharon Lichtenstein zatzal suggested that Noach’s negative transformation resulted from the absence of pressure and the resolution of any crises.  Very often, the assault on a value or idea fuels the flames of devotion among the faithful.  Opposition and pressure imposed by external threats, can ignite a passionate response to defend that which is attacked.  Noach’s righteousness may have been the product of the world’s opposition, his response to an external force that declared war on decency and morality.  After the flood, however, Noach had no opposition. He was left to contemplate himself, his own weaknesses and drives.

When confronted with crisis and pressure, like when Israel is under attack, we, like Noach, are at our best; we remember to put aside our differences and work for a common cause. Like Noach, a new challenge arises after the crisis is resolved: maintaining that spirit of cooperation, mutual respect and achdut in the absence of any pressing forcing us to do so.

I hope that our actions on behalf of Israel are effective and impactful. I hope that our tefillot on behalf of the State and citizens of Israel are accepted and that evil is eradicated in a way that is maximally safe and peaceful. I hope that this Shabbat inspires us to continue talking and working together on behalf of all noble causes, now and even after the threat has been resolved, that help Israel the Jewish People and the entire world.

The Mitzvah to Persevere

We all know intellectually that life is fragile and can change in an instant. Yet most of us (dare I say all of us?) live our lives day to day without that realization front and center in our minds. Perhaps this is for the best. Thinking about the frailty of life all the time would be depressing and cause debilitating anxiety leaving us unable to function, let alone have the energy and drive to build and to dream and to rejoice.

For Simchat Torah I had prepared a shiur about “Spitting in Jewish Tradition”. It was inspired by the ugly news reports I had read about Jews spitting at Christians during the Tabernacle (aka Sukkot) holiday in the Old City of Jerusalem. When I was preparing the shiur and printing source sheets on Friday, that news item was one of the bigger ones coming out of Israel.

How things have changed since then. I still feel at a loss of words to process or mourn for the horrible events of last Shabbat/ Shemini Atzeret in Israel: the worst massacre of Jews since the Holocaust. But we must find words: words of support and solidarity, words of Tehillim and Tefilah and Torah, words of encouragement, words of care and concern and words of commitments and contributions.

The question that every Rabbi in every American shul had last Shabbat afternoon was: what should our Simchat Torah look like? The following are some of the ideas I shared last Saturday night, between Mincha and Maariv, just before the onset of Simchat Torah. I said that to celebrate Simchat Torah as if nothing happened was not possible. It would be callous and a violation of our sacred obligation of Areivut and a rejection of our shared identity with our brothers and sisters in Israel. On the same time I felt that cancelling Simchat Torah altogether was also not the right response. First of all, there is a practical consideration. If we would cancel Simchat Torah- what would most people do instead? Second of all, most of our Simchat Torah activities were centered around and directed to children. Jewish law guides us to be careful with how we expose children to mourning practices. I felt that we needed to have a Simchat Torah celebration, at the very least for the children of our community, but that even the children should see that our celebration is not as usual and that something is wrong- without going into any horrible details.

And so I suggested that we have an intentional and purposeful Simchat Torah; one without frivolity but with purpose. I noted that we would sing songs on Simchat Torah for three reasons. First, our songs would be songs of prayer. Second, our songs would be songs of solidarity. Last, our songs would be songs of strength and resilience.

I found both Simchat Torah night and day to be uplifting and meaningful. I think back to last Shabbat and  Sunday as an exercise in resilience. The first mitzvah in the Torah is “Peru Urevu”- “Be Fruitful and Multiply” While Peru means to have progeny the word “Revu” is more difficult to precisely translate. Perhaps Peru Urevu is commanding us to be fruitful- and be resilient. It’s not enough to exist or to survive. We must be demonstrate resilience in order to persevere in the face of challenges in order maximize our experiences and our purpose during our lifetimes.

Dear Friends,

 I hope you enjoy the amazing story below.

While Simchat Torah is an occasion for Jews of all ages to celebrate and to enjoy, it is especially a time to focus on our youth, for parents to celebrate with their children, and for all adults in our community to celebrate the future of our Jewish community. That is why much of the celebration and events over Simchat Torah are geared towards children. I invite you to take part in our Simchat Torah festivities at shul, where we will celebrate the Torah- our heritage, along with our youth of- our destiny.

Henryk was very young in 1945, when the War ended and solitary survivors tried frantically to trace their relatives. He had spent what seemed to be most of his life with his nanny, who had hidden him away from the Nazis at his father's request. There was great personal risk involved, but the woman had readily taken it, as she loved the boy.

All the Jews were being killed, and Henryk's nanny did not think for a moment that the father, Joseph Foxman, would survive the infamous destruction of the Vilna Ghetto. He would surely have been transferred to Auschwitz -— and everyone knew that nobody ever came back from Auschwitz. She therefore had no scruples about adopting the boy, having him baptized into the Catholic Church and taught catechism by the local priest.

Not far from the house, they passed the church and the boy reverently crossed himself, causing his father great anguish. Just then, a priest emerged who knew the boy, and when Henryk rushed over to kiss his hand, the priest spoke to him, reminding him of his Catholic faith. It was Simchat Torah when his father came to take him. The heartbroken nanny had packed all his clothing and his small catechism book, stressing to the father that the boy had become a good Catholic. Joseph Foxman took his son by the hand and led him directly to the Great Synagogue of Vilna. On the way, he told his son that he was a Jew and that his name was Avraham.

They entered the Great Synagogue of Vilna, now a remnant of a past, vibrant Jewish era. There they found some Jewish survivors from Auschwitz who had made their way back to Vilna and were now rebuilding their lives and their Jewish spirits. Amid the stark reality of their suffering and terrible loss, in much diminished numbers, they were singing and dancing with real joy while celebrating Simchat Torah.

Avraham stared wide-eyed around him and picked up a tattered prayer book with a touch of affection. Something deep inside of him responded to the atmosphere, and he was happy to be there with the father he barely knew. He held back, though, from joining the dancing. 

A Jewish man wearing a Soviet Army uniform could not take his eyes off the boy, and he came over to Joseph. "Is this child... Jewish?" he asked, a touch of awe in his voice.

The father nodded permission, and the soldier hoisted the boy high onto his shoulders. With tears now coursing down his cheeks and a heart full of real joy, the soldier joined in the dancing. The father answered that the boy was Jewish and introduced his son. As the soldier stared at Henryk-Avraham, he fought to hold back tears. "Over these four terrible years, I have traveled thousands of miles, and this is the first live Jewish child I have come across in all this time. Would you like to dance with me on my shoulders?" he asked the boy, who was staring back at him, fascinated.
"This is my Torah scroll," he cried.
Abe Foxman, the national director of the Anti-Defamation League -- the Avraham in our story -- remembers this as his first conscious feeling of a connection with Judaism and of being a Jew.