Hospitality is More than Hosting

“Avraham ran to the malachim (angels) to be machnis orchim (offer hospitality)!”

This is the chorus of a Jewish children’s song on “613 Torah Avenue,” an album from my youth. It describes Avraham’s hospitality for the three angels disguised as travelers in the desert in need of food and a break. The Sages describe Avraham, recuperating from having circumcised himself a few days earlier at age 99, scanning the horizon in the hopes of finding a guest. God, to save Avraham the effort, made it hotter than usual outside so that nobody would venture out. But Avraham wanted company! In the end, God sent the angels, and a lesson in hospitality for the ages – and a song – is born.

Judaism places a premium on hospitality.

“Gedolah hachnasat orchim mi-kabbalat pnei ha-shechinah - Hospitality toward guests is greater than receiving the Divine Presence, as when Abraham invited his guests, he requested that God, the Divine Presence, wait for him while he tended to his guests appropriately.” (Shabbat 127a)

Avraham prioritized hospitality and even interrupted his conversation with God to welcome guests. Why is hospitality such a big deal?

Ambrose Bierce, early 20th century writer and cynic, defined hospitality as that “virtue which induces us to feed and lodge certain persons who are in need neither of food nor lodging.” Hospitality is about more than food.

The commentators note that the eshel (tree) that Avraham planted in Beersheva (Bereishit 21:33) was really more of a bed and breakfast. The Hebrew letters spelling eshel stand for: achila (food), shtiya (drink), and linah (rest). The lamed can also represent levaya, which means to escort the guest along their journey. Rambam emphasizes the importance of accompanying the guest after the meal.

“The reward one receives for accompanying guests is greater than all of the others. This is a statute which Abraham our Patriarch instituted and the path of kindness which he would follow. He would feed wayfarers, provide them with drink, and accompany them…Accompanying them is greater than showing them hospitality. Our Sages said: ‘Whoever does not accompany them is considered as if he shed blood.’” (Laws of Mourning 14:2)

Why is escorting so important?

One explanation is that there is a need to protect the guest and ensure they get home alright. On a deeper level, escorting the person shows that the hospitality wasn’t just for food and drink; it also involved genuine concern for the person. Walking the guest out says, “I want to spend time with you. This meal together wasn’t just for us all to eat, drink and be satisfied. I want to cultivate and strengthen a personal connection.”

The famous Chasidic brothers, Reb Elimelech and Reb Zusha, traveled for several years incognito. It was called “galut” and was a mystical experience to accept upon themselves the pain of loneliness and alienation. (It was a common formative experience for many of the great rabbinic leaders.) The brothers traveled around the countryside as anonymous beggars. During this time, they came to one town, and they asked the richest resident for hospitality. He refused them as did many other citizens who had the means to host. Only the poorest man in town opened his home to them.

Several years later, the two rabbis were again travelling together. This time they were among the most famous rabbis of all Europe with thousands of followers. Once again, they visited this same town, and they entered with their horses and wagons and retinue. When they arrived, that same rich man (who did not recognize them) pleaded with them for the privilege of being their host. The rabbis instructed their servants that their horses and wagons were to be housed with the rich man, while they were going to stay with the poorest man in town once again.

When the wealthy man asked for the reason for this humiliation he was told, “We are the same people we were last time. The only difference is back then we were without horses and wagons, and now we came with them. Apparently, it is not us whom you desire to honor but our horses and our wagons. Hence, we are sending them to you, while we are going to the one who extended himself to us as human beings.”

Hospitality is about honoring the humanity of others.

Rabbi Joseph Soloveitchik (Abraham’s Journey, p.168) explains:

“When one gives tzedakah, it demonstrates sympathy, but not a philosophy of human equality holding that all Jews are benei melakhim, princes, regardless of differences in wealthy or knowledge. Hachnasat orchim, however, demonstrates full human equality, the fact that every being has his own dignity and is just as important as any other. It is much easier to give someone money and send him away than to invite him under our own roof. If I invite him in, that means that no matter what his station in life, I am treating him with respect, as an equal. Hachnasat orchim is symbolic of our personal relationships, and that is why the Torah gave us this picture of Avraham.”

It is not every day that we encounter a chance to host strangers in our homes. Times have changed. We don’t have as many people wandering through our villages. At the same time, we always have the chance to perform an act of levaya, accompaniment and companionship. It doesn’t have to be after a meal. We can encounter, validate, and expand a human connection in how we greet people, treat those we don’t yet know, or the way we speak to those we meet – friends, strangers, workers, anyone, and everyone.

Gedolah hachnasat orchim – Hospitality is great when we approach our encounters with others knowing that they are also encounters with God.

Avraham, Lot & the Election

The day after an election can be a fraught time.

There are winners and losers. That’s the nature of an election. In recent elections, as the temperature and tone have risen, the “day after” has been particularly tense. This year is no exception, and emotions have ranged from elation to devastation to everything in between.

One synagogue sat shiva.

That was the headline for an article about a gathering in Manhattan billed as “A Time of Prayer for the Neshamah [Soul] of Our Nation.” The mood was pretty grim. “We’re sitting shiva,” the rabbi told the approximately 100 participants.

Some Jews celebrated.

Participants in a Manhattan office Mincha minyan were greeted with chocolate cake with “Trump” written on it in white frosting. One posted on X, “It felt weird saying tachanun [penitential prayer skipped on festive occasions] given the jubilant mood.”

While I rarely say no to cake, neither of the above reactions resonates with me. I appreciated the line a colleague posted: It's neither time for mourning nor for the celebration of Moshiach’s arrival.

In the Jewish community, it is even more important to remember we’re all on the same side – regardless of how vehemently we disagree or how we reacted to Donald Trump’s victory. We can analyze forever how good/bad each candidate is and how/why they lost. That’s important. More important is to recognize we are all Jews. As one Jewish communal leader put it, “We don't have time for disunity. We don't have time for a postelection period to further divide us.”

How can we move forward when there is so much dividing us? Is there really unity when some Jews are sitting shiva while other Jews eat cake?

Let’s look at Avraham and Lot.

Rabbi Joseph Soloveitchik sees an important communal lesson in how Avraham and Lot parted ways. (Abraham’s Journey, pp. 122-125)

Avraham was extraordinarily dedicated to his nephew, Lot. He essentially adopted him, and, for a time, it even looked as if Lot could be his heir. As both men prospered, a rift emerged.

“There was riv, controversy, between the herdsmen of Abram's cattle and the herdsmen of Lot's cattle" (Gen. 13:7).

Avraham tries to contain the damage. “Abram said to Lot: Let there be no merivah, strife, I beg you, between me and you, and between my herdsmen and your herdsmen, ki anashim achim anachnu, for we are brothers" (Gen. 13:8).

There was a riv, controversy between the shepherds. They had a dispute, an argument. Avraham wants to make sure this does not turn into a merivah, a full-blown rift between himself and Lot as they are kinsmen. It is one thing to argue, but it is entirely unacceptable for family to fracture. Riv “does not mean that the people hate or resent each other; even two friends can litigate. Merivah, however, means hatred, resentment, complete alienation.”

Ultimately, Avraham suggests that they separate. “If you will go left, then I will go to the right; or if you depart to the right, then I will go to the left” (Gen. 13:9). If they remain together, the relationship could devolve further, and the disagreement grow and be more public. Nevertheless, Avraham is never far away, and he immediately leaps into action to save Lot when he is taken captive. Ki anashim achim anchnu.

I find it very telling and timely that Avraham and Lot separate based on going left or right. That split exists today. We find ourselves very divided on a host of issues. Like Avraham, we should distance ourselves from the disagreements that may lead to full-blown fracture. Regardless of who we voted for or which party we support, we can’t let that riv turn into merivah. We can talk about politics less – especially with others who we know do not share our views. We cannot allow politics to create permanent alienation. As with Avraham and Lot, we must always be there to support our fellow Jew.

After an election, both the winners and losers should get back to making our world a better place to live for everyone. We should absolutely remain committed to our principles and our candidates. At the same time, we all win when we remember there is another side. We win when we tune out the noise and the anger and the disappointment. We win when we want the best for ourselves as well as for those with whom we disagree. We win when we prevent riv from becoming merivah.

Ki anashim achim anachnu – for we are all brothers and sisters.

Visiting the Shiva Two by Two

Is there anyone who can bring politicians of different parties, bitter rivals who can’t seem to agree on anything, together?

It seems like Rachel Goldberg can.

Rachel is the widow of IDF Captain Rabbi Avi Goldberg, 43, who was killed in action last Saturday night. “Rav Avi” was a beloved teacher at the Himmelfarb Yeshiva High School in Jerusalem and leaves behind 8 children - Yehudah, Shira, Talia, Hadas, Eliyashiv, Hallel, Reut, and Naveh. Since October 7, he spent over 250 days in the IDF reserves. Rachel Sharansky Danziger wrote a moving tribute to her friend and neighbor, who was known for his open home, warm personality, and willingness to engage all Jews.

“Rav Avi looked at the world with so much clarity, so much love for the Jewish people and humanity…Twenty years ago, Rav Avi began organizing and leading Yom Kippur prayers at the secular kibbutz Ginosar. For many members of the kibbutz, he was the first religious person they had ever gotten to know. Despite his beard, his large kipah, and his unwavering belief in Torah and Jewish law, he broke through every barrier and preconception against him that might have prevented his welcome, thanks to his warmth, humility, and ‘maor panim’ — his inner light.”

Rachel, a nurse, was Rav Avi’s partner in everything he did. It is, therefore, no surprise that she demanded unity from those who wanted to make a shiva visit to console the family. A statement released by the family noted:

“At a time when the rifts in Israeli society are growing, it is important for us to underline the value of unity…The family welcomes politicians from all camps to our shiva. But we ask that you come together in pairs - one from the coalition and one from the opposition…Rabbi Avi, together with his wife Rachel, dedicated his life and invested much time and work to connect between parts of Israeli society. This is the proper way to part from him and accompany him on his final journey.”

Several lawmakers heeded the family’s call. Photos circulating on social media Tuesday showed lawmakers from five different parties – Likud, National Unity, Otzma Yehudit, Shas, and Yesh Atid - making a shiva visit together. Separately, National Unity MK Matan Kahana also visited with Shas MK Erez Malul.

We need more breaking of barriers, crossing of aisles, and pairing up of people with different perspectives.

There is so much toxic disagreement and delegitimization of people with opposing views today. We believe in machloket, honest disagreement. (After all, two Jews must yield three opinions.) What we see all around us, however, is more like a need for uniformity. The problem is certainly exacerbated by the upcoming election. At the same time, the calls are growing louder from all sides that there is only one correct position. There is only one pro-Israel candidate. There is only one way for the economy to improve. There is only one way to view the strengths or weaknesses of particular politicians. I may very well feel that way but ignoring and completely discounting other voices is not the Torah way.

“Everyone on earth had the same language and the same words.” (Bereishit 11:1)

What was so wrong with the plan to make a name and build a tower? Rabbi Naftali Zvi Yehuda Berlin, the Netziv, explains it was the mindset of the Builders of Bavel that was so detrimental.

“The text did not explain what the people’s 'few words' were…[I]t wasn't because of the content of the words themselves that the Holy One of Blessing was distressed. They were what they were, and in its simplicity there is not sin, and on the contrary all appears well. But here what happened is that all thought the same thing, and this came to be the problem of the settlement.”

The problem with the Builders of Bavel was they were trying to construct a society built on absolute conformity, of people being required to think and act alike. It is one thing to have a common purpose or community standards. It is destructive, however, when the people demand absolute allegiance to a society of their own creation.

What was true then is still true today. We live in a world where, all too often, people want to live only with those who think, act, and speak alike. Everyone else is wrong.

Rabbi Marc Angel has written about the dangers of “echo reasoning,” when people only listen or speak to those with similar views. Members of the closed circle become more extreme, less able to reason independently or tolerate opposing views. There is nothing wrong with being confident in one’s own position. To be morally strong and intellectually sound, however, we need to be open to hearing criticism of our own views and listening to opinions different than our own.

We need to think; to challenge and be challenged; to express our views and listen to the views of others. Choose one issue about which you feel passionate and try to put yourself in the mindset of someone who would disagree. If you find yourself reacting negatively to a different point of view or an opponent’s behavior, stop and think why they may be acting that way instead of feeling angry and shouting them down.

Rachel Goldberg honored her late husband by asking us to pair up with those with whom we disagree. There will always be machloket, but that doesn’t mean we can’t find ways to bridge the divides and cultivate that which unites us. That’s what Rav Avi would do.

A Simchat Torah Unlike Any Other

Tomorrow, we will commemorate the first yahrzeit of over 1,200 Israelis murdered on October 7, 2023. It will be the holiday of Shemini Atzeret, which, in Israel, is combined with Simchat Torah.

We are all very familiar with the pain of the past year. Everyone knows someone (or knows someone who knows someone) who has been directly impacted by October 7. This Simchat Torah will be hard, difficult, impossible, and complex. People will respond differently to the day. Some will want to celebrate more, and some, understandably, will want to celebrate less. Someone commented on how acutely this year’s religious celebration of the day is coming face to face with current events.

I believe we can – and will – celebrate while mourning. This year, we will live the expression we read this past Shabbat in Kohelet (3:1,4): “There is a time for everything and every experience under the heavens…a time to mourn and a time to dance.”

As raw as this year’s pain is, we can look to Jewish history for how one can still rejoice through the pain.

On Simchat Torah 1973, Rabbi Tzvi Yehuda Kook insisted that his yeshiva dance through the streets to share the joy of the holiday. “We will teach the people to rejoice!” he declared. As they danced outside, they were joined by others, inspired to celebrate even during wartime. When they reached King George Street, a passerby began to shout at them, “How dare you dance? The whole country is fighting for its life in this war, and you dance? Have you no shame?!”

Rav Tzvi Yehudah stopped and turned to him. “Why are you upset? Look at this Jew who is dancing with me” — and he indicated one of those who joined in the dancing. “His four sons are all currently fighting at various fronts. And yet he dances and rejoices in the simchah of the Torah. You should also come and dance with us!”

There is no right or wrong when it comes to emotions and whether or how to celebrate this year. At the same time, Simchat Torah is a day of joy regardless of how one feels.

In his Simchat Torah 1973 sermon, Rabbi Norman Lamm noted:

“Jewish joy is a sign of emunah, faith. It is an expression of our commitment to the existence of God as the Source of all…That is why our happiness is called Simchat Torah, the happiness with the Torah. How happy are we that we are a people of Torah, a people whose base passions are restrained and whose aspirations are refined - by Torah…So, we shall be happy…We shall be happy because our happiness issues…from a recognition that life is complicated and complex and paradoxical. We shall be happy because our joy itself will overcome enmity and adversity, animosity and hostility. We shall try to restrain the sobs and sing out. And if a tear falls, we shall wipe it away and continue to dance. Because when we hold the Torah, we know that no defeat is permanent, and that victory will surely come.”

Rabbi Dr. Yitzchak Mandelbaum, a clinical psychologist, adds that celebrating Simchat Torah has therapeutic value for us as well. “Our ability to return to the ‘same place’ and dance can repair our scars from last Simchat Torah. Successfully transcending the fear will be a step of healthy healing.”

Rabbi Shmuel Slotki, who serves in the IDF Rabbinate and who lost two sons on October 7, agrees. “My sons fought and sacrificed their lives for us to continue living here and maintain our path and traditions. By ensuring that Simchat Torah does not become Tisha B’Av, I fulfill something like their last will and testament.”

Simchat Torah is a testament to the eternity of the Jewish spirit.

Elie Wiesel famously spent Simchat Torah 1965 in Moscow with “The Jews of Silence.” He was inspired by the throng of thousands who defied the Soviet officials to turn out and celebrate a holiday that they knew nothing about. Michael Freund describes a talk he gave at the 92nd Street Y in New York at which Wiesel said, “When the time comes, and I will have to appear before the celestial tribunal, and they will ask, ‘What did you do with your life?’ I will say, ‘I was there in Moscow. I saw them dancing on Simchat Torah.’ And I told the tale of the dancing.”

Freund writes of a separate talk at which Wiesel spoke of another powerful Simchat Torah experience. Even in Auschwitz, Jews did not refrain from marking the holiday. Noting that the Vilna Gaon said that the most difficult mitzvah in the Torah is “ve’samachta be’chagecha” (“you shall rejoice on your festival”), Wiesel said he could never understand this remark until experiencing the Holocaust.

“Those of us who, in the course of our journey to the end of hope, managed to dance on Simchat Torah on the day of the celebration of the law; those Jews who studied Talmud by heart, while carrying stones on their back; those Jews who went on whispering the Sabbath songs while performing hard labor – they taught us how Jews should behave in the face of adversity. For my contemporaries a few generations ago, that commandment was one commandment that was impossible to observe – yet they observed it.”

Simchat Torah is eternal because Jews and Judaism are eternal.

We all have a responsibility to commemorate the yahrzeit of October 7 on Shemini Atzeret. We all will celebrate Simchat Torah - either on Thursday, the yahrzeit itself, or on Friday in the Diaspora. I know we all celebrate Simchat Torah differently. Some love a day on which we celebrate the joy of being Jewish. Others are less enamored by the chaos. As different as this year’s Simchat Torah will be, Simchat Torah is eternal. It celebrates the eternity of Jewish faith, Torah, community, and continuity. We will always, please God, dance again!

Judaism of Fire & Judaism of Water

It is a very busy holiday season (and that’s without factoring in the three three-day yom tovs).

I have always felt that Rosh Hashanah, Yom Kippur and Sukkot create a three-week Jewish new year’s celebration. On Rosh Hashanah, we begin a new year declaring how great we know we can be. We don’t repent or list sins. We boldly sound the shofar as a coronation of God’s Kingship and a declaration for what we are capable of, while recounting the patriarchal and Sinaitic covenants.

We then work to repair our mistakes and eliminate the sins that might get in the way of fulfilling our potential during the Ten Days of Repentance and Yom Kippur. Finally, two weeks into the new year, we celebrate over Sukkot. Sukkot is a chance to put our grand plan for the new year into practice with its myriad observances, rituals, and religious celebrations. We also keep things in perspective by reading Kohelet on Shabbat Chol Hamoed with its reminders that life isn’t one big party.

Rabbi Shlomo Yosef Zevin (La’Torah U’Lamoadim, V’Zot Haberacha) notes that Yom Kippur and Sukkot present two different models of Jewish living: fire and water.

On Yom Kippur, there is a lot of focus on fire. We read about the mizbeiach (altar) and all the sacrifices that were burned on it. The Kohein Gadol (High Priest) would bring fiery coals into the Kodesh Hakodashim (Holy of Holies). Sukkot, on the other hand, is a festival of water. There is the unique nisuch hamayim ceremony where water was drawn and poured out. The arba minim (four species) are all dependent on water, and the aravah (willow) specifically must grow by the water. Sukkot is the holiday where the rainfall for the year is set, and we start praying for rain at the end of the holiday on Shemini Atzeret.

Rav Zevin says fire is the Judaism of Yom Kippur, and water is the Judaism of Sukkot.

On Yom Kippur, we try to elevate our religious lives and experience a more sanctified existence. We forego physical pleasures. We spend the entire day in shul, within sacred space. We try to purify ourselves “lifnei Hashem,” standing before God, more angel than human. We try to transcend the earthly plane and rise the way fire burns upwards.

Sukkot is very different. On Sukkot, we bring holiness down into our daily lives. We leave our homes – not to go to shul but to the Sukkah. The mitzvah of dwelling in the Sukkah takes eating, sleeping, and just hanging out and creates an exalted religious experience. We take ordinary agricultural objects and turn them into the mitzvah of the Four Species full of symbolism and spiritual significance. Just as water drips or flows down, we bring kedushah down into our everyday lives.

Yom Kippur and Sukkot are opposites – fire and water. They provide two models of Judaism, The Judaism of striving upwards towards holiness through extraordinary means, and the Judaism of bringing religion into the nitty gritty of daily living.

Since October 7, we have seen many examples of both types of Judaism.

We have seen the sacrifice of so many who have given of themselves – and sometimes given their lives. The heroes who inspire us by their bravery, their resilience, or their sacrifice. There is a fiery religiosity on the battlefield. Rabbi Yosef Zvi Rimon noted that there have never been so many sefarim, Torah books, brought to the battlefield by soldiers who study every chance they get. There have never been as many soldiers declaring “Sehma Yisrael!” and other prayers before heading into combat. This is the fiery Judaism of striving mightily to rise higher and sanctify impossible conditions.

We have also seen ordinary people who inspire us with simple, heroic actions. We have seen goodness and kindness “trickle down” from the losses and horrors so many have endured.

Alon Mesika’s 23-year-old son, Adir, was murdered at the Nova festival along with most of his best friends. Adir was an avid surfer and traveler in the process of starting his own jewelry business, following in the footsteps of his father, a jeweler himself. He died trying to fight back and protect his girlfriend, Yuli, who ultimately survived. After sitting shiva, Alon told himself that he needed to stay busy. Coincidentally, he heard from one of Adir’s friends that there was a soldier hoping to propose who was looking for a ring. Alon invited him to the Diamond Exchange to pick up a diamond ring. He wanted to do more. He put out a Facebook message offering an engagement ring to the next soldier who comes out of Gaza and is about to get engaged. Within minutes, he got a response, and then another. As of May, he had given away 84 diamond engagement rings to soldiers!

Alon said, “Hamas is destroying houses and I am building them.” Transforming tragedy into a chesed opportunity is an example of bringing kedushah down.

Sukkot is Zman Simchateinu, a time to rejoice. Even in difficult times, we should celebrate the opportunities we have as Jews to rise up and improve our lives and the lives of those around us. We should also rejoice in the ordinary opportunities that allow holiness to flow down into our everyday lives.

Praying with Sinners

How do we relate to Jews with whom we vehemently disagree? What happens when Jews engage in despicable behavior? Are they still part of the community? Do we welcome them to Shul? How about those Neturei Karta scoundrels, who show up to protest Israel and support Iran? Or maybe you saw the images of Chabad students putting tefillin on a pro-Hamas protestor on October 7.

On the one hand, the Talmud (Sanhedrin 44a) teaches: “Af al pi she-chata Yisrael hu - Though a Jew may sin, a Jew he remains.” On the other hand, Jews supporting our enemies is a violation of basic loyalty to the Jewish people.

As infuriating as some Jews are, once a year, everyone is welcome. Before we begin Kol Nidrei, we declare: “Anu matirin l’hitpaleil im ha-avaraynim – We have permission to pray with the transgressors among us.”

What does this expression mean? Where does it come from? What does it teach us?

Inviting the sinner to pray is based on a teaching of Rabbi Shimon Chasida in Keritot (6b) that the prayers of a public fast day require the participation of “posh’ei Yisrael,” the sinners of Israel. The source for such inclusion is the spice called chelbanah, galbanum, which was an ingredient in the ketoret, incense. It had a terrible scent, but it was included – and essential – to the mix. So, too, the participation of sinners is critical in creating community in times of grave importance.

On Yom Kippur, every single confession is in the plural. We acknowledge that there are sins in our community even though we did not commit them, and there are sinners in the community. We begin Yom Kippur aspiring for achdut, unity.

There has been a lot of talk about Jewish unity. For most of 2023, there was a lack of unity as Israel was roiled by the dispute around reforming the judicial system. For the last 12 months, since October 7, the pendulum shifted towards more unity as Jews around the world came together to fight our common enemies. The expression “Yachad nenatzeiach – Together, we will be victorious!” was everywhere, and it seemed to be working. Most recently, it seems like we have reverted to old habits of disagreements. Unity isn’t easy.

Even our enemies understand the power and fragility of Jewish unity.

Sapir Cohen endured 55 days of brutal Hamas captivity before being released on November 30. Her partner, Alex (Sasha) Trufanov, remains held by the Palestinian Islamic Jihad. Sapir shared a gripping account of her experience in an interview with Israel Hayom, including how she actually spoke with Yahya Sinwar. She recounted an exchange with one of her captors:

"During my captivity, one of my captors called me to watch Al-Jazeera when they were showing footage of the Hostages Square. I saw tens of thousands of Israelis united in purpose, and it filled me with hope. The captor smiled, interlocked his fingers into two fists, and said, 'When all the Jews are like this, it's strong, strong, strong. We'll wait a bit, there will be chaos among you.' It was then that I understood they are acutely aware of our vulnerabilities and know that our greatest threat comes from within.”

Even Hamas recognizes we are stronger together. Sapir continued:

"This is why we don't need to share the same opinions, but rather respect each other, practice tolerance, and remember that we're all one family. We cannot afford to be indifferent to human life, and we must do everything in our power to bring back Sasha and the remaining hostages. We can't allow them to be out of sight and out of mind. If we choose the wrong path, we risk facing even greater tragedies. While there's talk of dismantling Hamas, we seem to be moving towards dismantling the unity of Israel itself."

“Anu matirin l’hitpaleil im ha-avaraynim – We have permission to pray with the transgressors among us.”

This Yom Kippur, the Tzohar organization is Israel, is emphasizing and promoting Jewish unity. They are arranging for hundreds of services throughout Israel that are open to Jews of all backgrounds and levels of observance. They are encouraging all Jews to add prayers for the unity of the Jewish people before Kol Nidrei and before Neilah. You can learn more about the effort and see the prayers HERE.

We know that Jews are a fractious, diverse people. At the same time, what better time than Yom Kippur to hope, pray, and aspire that there is still much more than unites almost all of us than divides us. Rabbi Jonathan Sacks said:

“Everything about Yom Kippur teaches us the absolute indivisible unity of the Jewish people. On the holiest day of the year, on the holiest spot on earth, the holiest man among the people – the High Priest – would do what? He would atone for himself, and then for his family, and then for the entire congregation of Israel. There were absolutely no divisions. The most righteous still needed to be forgiven. And the least righteous still were able to be forgiven. On Yom Kippur there is complete equality between Jews and complete unity between Jews.”

It is true, but what can we do to make it true?

We can commit to Jewish unity and do our best to act in ways that bring Jews together in united purpose. This Yom Kippur, we can also daven for more Jewish unity. Here is a prayer for unity composed by Rabbi Yosef Zvi Rimon:

“May God who blessed our ancestors, bless and watch over each and every one of the people of Israel. May God instill in our hearts the goodwill to see everything with a kind eye, great love for each and every one from Israel, and may we be granted powerful unity and complete redemption speedily in our days. And let us say: Amen.”

This Yom Kippur, as we take steps to make ourselves and our relationship with God and others better, let’s not give up on that elusive superpower called achdut. Jewish unity might be something beyond our reach, but that doesn’t mean we stop trying.

Thoughts this October 7

I am certain that your inbox, like mine, is filled with emails containing the subject “Remembering October 7.”

It is important to stand up today to declare that October 7, 2023, was the day Hamas slaughtered and kidnapped innocents in Israel while simultaneously launching an assault on free people everywhere.

While we commemorate today, I feel it is impossible to memorialize something that is still ongoing. The battle rages on, thousands of Israelis are displaced, and the hostages have not been freed. For thousands of individuals, October 7 is a specific date that devastated them and their families. For all of us, it changed us and continues to change us. Today is a day to recognize how we have changed and how those changes have changed us.

There have been hurtful and painful changes.

Our faith in the State of Israel to protect its citizens was shaken on October 7. In America, we have learned the truth about some of our supposed friends. We have seen a rise in Jew-hatred and Israel-bashing. The voices opposing us are getting louder while interest in the truth about Israel’s war against Hamas, Hezbollah, the Houthis, and Iran is hardly mentioned by the mainstream media.

There have also been encouraging changes.

We have witnessed the inspiring heroism of the IDF and the courage of their families. There have been countless tales of valor, final letters of fallen soldiers, and the brave faces shown by the bereaved relatives at military funerals. We have seen the unbelievable resilience of Israeli society as an entire country mobilized to help in ways large and small. We, too, answered the call and responded with generosity, attended rallies, offer prayers, and loudly speak up for Israel and the hostages wherever we can.

Today on October 7, we are grieving, remembering the fallen, reading the reflections, and attending solidarity gatherings. Let’s also be inspired and rededicate ourselves to the steps forward taken during this past year, the inspiration, the growth, and all the goodness.

Today, I know of a number of Torah dedications taking place to commemorate October 7. I think that is such an appropriate and meaningful way to mark this day. Regardless of how religious or secular you are (or think you are), Torah represents the eternity of the Jewish people. On a day which defies easy commemoration, dedicating a Torah scroll – even if you won’t be attending such an event in person - captures everything we hope to remember, grieve, honor, celebrate, fight against, and rededicate ourselves to today.

Today marks the completion of one year since last October 7, but it does not represent the closing of a circle. I shared this story on Rosh Hashanah:

A group of IDF soldiers in the field welcomed a new Torah. It was very moving, with all the soldiers dancing and singing the popular, joyous songs.

Suddenly in the middle of the dancing, a religious soldier got up and said, “I am very moved and excited. I feel that this dancing with the Torah now is closure for me. On Simchat Torah I was forced to stop in the middle of the Hakafot to go out to battle. Now, I am able to close that loop by continuing to dance with the Torah!”

A non-religious soldier suddenly got up and said, “There is no closure here!”

 

A very uncomfortable feeling swept over the group of soldiers. The non-religious soldier continued, “I am not a religious person. I don’t go to shul. In my entire life, I never experienced a Simchat Torah. On Simchat Torah you danced with the Torah and in the middle of Hakafot you left for battle. But I never danced. I never began the Hakafot. Now, we are all dancing together. There is no closure, no closing of a loop here, but rather it is a beginning, opening a new circle now!”

Today, the one-year anniversary of October 7, is a painful day, but it is not, by any means, the closing of the circle. Israel and the Jewish people continue to fight our enemies, and we need to redouble our efforts to help. Here are five ways to support Israel that we have promoted for the past year:

• Stay informed.
• Visit Israel! Stay connected with family and friends in Israel.
• Free them now! Keep the names and stories of the hostages front and center.
• Give generously. Support the JCAB Israel Emergency Fund or other charities.
• Pray. 

Earlier today, I received a text from a Jewish communal professional who was part of my first mission to Israel after 10/7. It powerfully captures what I feel is the essential message for today:

"Thinking of all of you. Am Yisrael Chai. From victims to heroes. Onward…"