Joy, diversion, family: How to cope with the crisis of war - opinion

The mismanagement of the war up until now has cast a dark shadow on Israel, but it is still too early to give up.

  THE KLAUSENBERG REBBE, on Purim: ‘Yes, we are.’  (photo credit: From ‘The Klausenberg Rebbe, The War Years’)
THE KLAUSENBERG REBBE, on Purim: ‘Yes, we are.’
(photo credit: From ‘The Klausenberg Rebbe, The War Years’)

We are worried, we are frustrated, we are nervous, we are scared. There is no point in denying it, we are “under the gun” – literally – from virtually every direction.

In the blink of an eye – heref ayin, as it’s called – we have seen and felt the walls closing in on us. First and foremost, of course, is the shock of the daily injuries and fatalities to our courageous troops, along with the heartbreaking news that yet another hostage has been murdered at the hands of the Hamas monsters.

Rockets still fall indiscriminately throughout the country, and forests are set afire by shelling in the North. As we look beyond our borders, we witness a pathetic parade of former allies pressuring us to drop our opposition to a Palestinian state, an entity that has every possibility of being no less of a terrorist threat than the one in Gaza.

Faith in our government is at an all-time low. Truth be told, the campaign against Hamas has been mismanaged from the get-go. The first rule in warfare is never tell your enemy what your plans are, yet we irresponsibly telegrammed our objectives time and again rather than simply declaring, “We will do what we have to do.”

We have painted ourselves into a corner and, in effect, are now held hostage by the overly ambitious promises we boasted of accomplishing.

 Gilad Schalit and Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu (credit: STEWART WEISS)
Gilad Schalit and Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu (credit: STEWART WEISS)

A simple reading of Jewish history would have provided a clear truth about our intractable enemies in Gaza: Joshua could not expel them, even when he was vanquishing the land’s seven other nations. King David – a brilliant military strategist who succeeded in conquering Jerusalem – could not subdue them, nor could King Solomon, Samson, or any other Jewish hero.

We were reduced to dealing our enemies a serious blow that would keep them in abeyance for years, until we were once again forced to fight. Discretion – like it or not – is often the better part of valor.

And now we are on the verge of entering into a lopsided agreement that will essentially play right into Hamas’s hands, effectively giving them everything they desire: a continuing command over Gazan affairs, worldwide recognition of their ability to hold their own against “mighty” Israel and, most of all, the wholesale release of yet another obscenely large contingent of mass murderers eager to continue their reign of terror.

This will be presided over by the very same Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu who crumbled under public pressure and released Yahwa Sinwar and company in the Schalit fiasco, creating a “security herpes” that keeps on killing.

How can we keep our sanity?

How can we keep our sanity? How can we maintain trust in our country, in our future, and in ourselves? Can “normal” life go on, under these circumstances, so that we do not succumb to despair, hopelessness, and “faith fatigue”? I want to suggest several strategies for survival:


Stay updated with the latest news!

Subscribe to The Jerusalem Post Newsletter


JOY. It sounds counterintuitive, almost disrespectful, but we must fight resignation by actively seeking joy. Each morning when we pray, we repeat the directive “Serve God with simcha,” essentially ordering ourselves to inject happiness into our day, regardless of the circumstances. Similarly, the Torah enjoins us regarding holiday observance, “V’hayita ach sameach,” you should be happy, with no ach – no if’s, ands, or buts. When we consider that throughout our history we often led lives of deprivation and poverty, this decree to rejoice on our yamim tovim is particularly instructive, since our chagim were often accompanied by violence from our neighbors.

DIVERSION. The rabbis tell us that one cannot commune with God while in a state of melancholy. It is therefore vital to seek ways of periodically “taking our minds off” the events that send us into depression. Exercise – even a simple walk – reading a good book, or enjoying a comfort food can provide a break in routine and reestablish a sense of normalcy. Music is particularly effective in soothing the troubled soul; the young David, for example, was called in to play the harp for King Saul, who needed to be “centered” before he could make the weighty decisions that affected the nation.

FAMILY. We have no greater resource than our family. In times of trouble, we need to cling to those we trust most and support one another with uncompromising love. This is the time to share our feelings, openly expressing both our concerns and our confidence. We cannot be shy; we have to ask our spouse and our children what is going through their minds, how they are coping, what scares them and what soothes them. In truth, many families simply do not communicate on a regular basis – some, never do – and this bonding can provide the greatest strength of all.

HESSED. Ironically, doing something good for someone else actually results in us being the prime beneficiaries. Connecting to others, particularly when we enhance their well-being, reminds us that we are one people, a compassionate nation that props up one another and so ensures that we are never alone. If “misery loves company,” then keeping in touch helps to defuse our anxiety and lessen sorrow. The incredible outpouring of love for our soldiers, the untold acts of kindness that have been extended to the wounded and bereaved families have raised our spirits and provided a “safety valve” for our moments of frustration and feelings of helplessness.

MITZVOT. This is a crucial time to strengthen our relationship with God, which can best be accomplished through observing the commandments. Strengthening the mitzvot that we already observe or taking on new ones can fill us with a confidence that the Almighty will stand by us in our hour of need and support us in our holy struggle.

RABBI YEKUTIAL HALBERSTAM (1905-1994), the Klausenberg Rebbe, survived Auschwitz, though his wife and 11 children were murdered by the Nazis. Upon his liberation, he went to a displaced persons camp and led the Jews gathered there. The camp was visited by the Allied High Command at the end of summer, and the rabbi was asked what could be done for the survivors. The Klausenberger immediately said, “Please bring us lulavim and etrogim for Sukkot. We need to hold on – literally! – to a mitzvah in order to regenerate and rejuvenate our souls.”

A gripping story about Halberstam has been making the rounds lately, and I want to recount it as well.

In the concentration camp, the SS guards taunted and teased the Rebbe, pulling his beard and pushing him around. They trained their guns on him as the commander spoke. “Tell us, rabbi,” sneered the officer, “do you really believe that you are the chosen people?” The soldiers broke out in sinister laughter, but the rabbi stood up and answered loud and clear, “Most certainly I do!” The officer, enraged that a Jew would talk back, lifted his rifle and sent it crashing into the Rebbe’s head. The rabbi fell to the ground, and the German asked again, “Do you still think you are the chosen people?!”

Once again, the rabbi nodded his head and said, “Yes, we are.” The officer, infuriated, kicked the Rebbe in the chin and repeated, “Stupid Jew, you lie here on the ground, beaten and humiliated, in a puddle of blood. What makes you think that you are the chosen people?!” With his mouth gushing blood, the Rebbe replied, “As long as we are not the ones kicking, beating, and murdering innocent people, then we are the chosen people.”

We Jews, we Israelis, have our problems, to be sure. But never let there be even a momentary doubt as to who are the villains and who are the heroes in this cosmic story. We have the most moral, most righteous, and most godly of all armies. We are driven not by destruction but by destiny. If we are suffering, it is for a noble cause – to eradicate an evil more despicable than the Holocaust.

As long as we are the nation ethically superior, the ones seeking peace and not domination, as long as we conduct ourselves with dignity and decency, we, indeed, are the chosen people.

The last two rocks that we can cling to in the gathering storm – ones that will continue to sustain us – are pride and hope. Pride in the morality, bravery, and resilience of our soldiers and civilians, pride in our dedication to a holy cause; and hope that in the end, justice will prevail while evil will fail. We believe with a perfect faith that the Almighty will once again guide and support us in our mission to better this world and usher in an age of redemption. 

The writer is director of the Jewish Outreach Center of Ra’anana. rabbistewart@gmail.com