Like many of you, I was awakened from my slumber on Oct. 7. The world before Oct. 7 and the world after Oct. 7 are not the same worlds; at least they shouldn’t be.
Before Oct. 7, there was a war. I’m not referring to the war against Hamas or the war against Iran. I’m not referring to the social media war. I’m referring to the war within our family – a war where Jewish brothers and sisters sometimes forget that we are all one family. A war where you can be vilified for being too secular, too haredi, too Zionistic, too apathetic, too closed-minded, too open-minded, too right-wing, too left-wing... and simply be “canceled” because your views are not the same as someone else’s.
After Oct. 7, we experienced an awakening. Most of us remembered that we are one family. And even those of us who forgot received daily reminders through campus protests, UN condemnations, and frequent terrorist attacks. Despite all the pain, despite all the hostages, despite all the families and communities who were torn apart, there was one glimmer of light; there was one glimmer of hope. The Jewish people had finally come together as a family.
There were thousands of haredim volunteering to support the war effort and to help families whose lives had been shattered. There were Tel Aviv natives who had grimaced at the sight of my daughter (a religiously observant Jew) pre-Oct. 7 but smiled and offered her a genuine enthusiastic greeting after the attack.
Most synagogues around the world, ranging from the most haredi to the most modern, added special prayers in support of Israel. Perhaps for the first time in the history of warfare, there were more people running toward the country under attack than there were those running away from it. We all wanted to support one another.
UNFORTUNATELY, EVEN though we are still at war with enemies around the world whose goal is to make Israel “Jew-free,” many of us seem to have forgotten that we are a family. Yes, there are still prayers and there are still volunteers, but many of us have reverted to criticizing, name-calling, and often reserving our harshest comments for fellow Jews simply because they have a different opinion than ours.
I know that inspiration tends to be fleeting. I know that trying to look in the mirror and change oneself is one of the hardest things to do (Rabbi Yisroel Salanter was known to say that changing one character trait is more difficult than studying the entire Talmud). I am under no illusions about the difficulty of the task. But even if we can’t be perfect, we can still try to improve. We can do better. We can be better. We are better!
Let’s examine two divisive figures – Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu and US President Donald Trump. For many, these two leaders are simply not capable of doing anything right. Anything they do or say is wrong or evil by virtue of the fact that they did it or said it. In contrast, for many Likudniks in Israel and Republicans in America, Netanyahu and Trump, respectively, are not capable of doing anything wrong. Anything they do or say is automatically right by virtue of the fact that they did it or said it.
If we take a step back for a minute and remove our party-affiliation glasses, do any of us really believe that Netanyahu and Trump are perfectly righteous or perfectly evil? Why can’t we sometimes agree with their policy or statements and sometimes disagree with them? The same question applies to political parties and movements.
The same question also applies to the hostages. If someone wants to make a deal that I consider to be too risky, should I accuse him of prioritizing his own loved ones or a limited number of hostages at the expense of thousands of potential future deaths in Israel, or of not caring about the soldiers who sacrificed their lives? Alternatively, if someone is against a particular hostage deal, does that mean he doesn’t care about the hostages? Again, do any of us really believe that those who usually support deals simply don’t care about future terrorist attacks, Israel’s safety, or the lives of our soldiers? And do we really think that those who usually condemn the deals don’t care about the hostages?
We are living a nightmare, with a no-win situation. And none of us are prophets or omniscient. So while we are entitled to our positions and convictions and we should advocate for them, that doesn’t mean that someone with a different perspective is not entitled to his opinion as well, without being accused of being a “Nazi,” “not caring about the hostages,” “not caring about the soldiers,” “not caring about Israel,” etc.
Unfortunately, we live in a polarized society. Sometimes members of different political parties can even have difficulty sitting down to a meal together. Although we may associate with a particular political party or religious denomination, we don’t always have to agree/disagree with everything our party/leader (or the opposing one) does or says. And at the same time, perhaps we can try a little harder to respect other voices. We can certainly still debate them and disagree with them. But perhaps we could avoid trying to delegitimize everyone else by claiming that they don’t care.
A spiritual dimension for a need for unity
AS A rabbi, I want to add a spiritual dimension. Perhaps even more than drones and hi-tech weapons, there is tremendous spiritual firepower when there is peace and harmony among Jews. The Midrash Tanhuma (parashat Hukat) relates that during the times of King Ahab, despite his being a wicked king, and despite the rampant idolatry, the Jewish people was victorious in battle without casualties. In contrast, there were righteous Jewish kingdoms which experienced significant casualties (see Yerushlami Pe’ah 1:1). The commentaries explain that when our Father in Heaven sees that His children are getting along, He adds a layer of protection.
I heard an incredible story of two neighboring synagogues that were fighting over land. The fight deteriorated to the point where it was tearing the community apart. Houses of worship and holiness were becoming unholy.
In an effort to resolve the dispute, the synagogues agreed for the dispute to be adjudicated by a rabbinical court. Someone I know well was one of the judges at that hearing.
After a careful review of the evidence, the judges concluded that one synagogue deserved 90% of the land, and the other only 10%. But the judges asked whether, in the interest of peace, the synagogues would agree to a 60%-40% split. After introspection, the synagogues happily agreed, and the former disputants embraced. Two weeks later, on a day when both synagogues were packed with people, a Hamas rocket landed on the disputed land, right in between the two synagogues. Miraculously, the rocket failed to detonate.
As we remove the hametz from our homes, let’s try to remove the hate from our hearts. May we all be blessed with peace, love, and good health. And may we all find it in our hearts to see the good in our fellow Jews and to always remember that regardless of someone’s religious or political perspective, we are all brothers and sisters!
The writer has spoken at more than 100 universities, including Harvard, Columbia, and Cornell. His website, RabbiWithAnswers.com, draws tens of thousands of visitors from all over the world. Two of his children enlisted in the IDF, one of whom fought in the haredi paratroopers unit. youtube.com/RabbiTullyBryks