Wartime Weddings in Israel

Groom-to-warrior: Israeli couple marries on army base after groom mobilized

Sometimes, you just don’t want to wait.

Despite the war, some Israeli couples decided not to change their wedding plans.

Nadav, 33, from Rishon Lezion, was scheduled to tie the knot with his partner of four years, Noam, in a ceremony on October 11. We all know what happened in between, and Nadav was called up for reserve duty. What would seem to mean postponing the wedding turned into a morale boost and joyous moment within all the chaos and pain. Nadav arranged for the wedding to be held on his base.

Noam’s father, Avner, shared his son's words with Ynet. "Dad, I'm aware that our wedding was canceled, but I'm committed to boosting my friends' morale…The mood here at the base is quite downcast, and I'm determined to have the wedding ceremony right here.”

The joyous wedding scene was interrupted as Nadav had to leave when his unit was deployed up north. He left, but the remaining soldiers continued their dancing - except when interrupted by rocket sirens, forcing everyone to seek shelter.

There are a number of stories of weddings going forward, of celebration and joy piercing the pain and gloom so many are feeling. Sometimes, love can conquer all.

These past weeks, I have been focused on spiritual responses to what is happening in Israel, the prayers we recite, and finding elevating and inspiring moments within the chaos. These weddings – and the joy we feel when Jews marry – provide us with a hopeful, confident message regarding our connection to Israel.

This week, we read about the promise of the Land of Israel to Avraham and his descendants. God first articulates the promise in very direct terms: “I will give this land to your descendants” (Bereishit 12:7). It gets more complicated. Towards the end of Parshat Lech Lecha (15:9-21), God adds another dimension to the promise in the Brit Bein Ha’betarim, the “covenant of the pieces.” Against a dark, gloomy setting of cut-up animals, various birds, a burning furnace, and smoking torch, God tells Avraham that his descendants will be slaves in Egypt and only arrive in the Land of Israel after several generations. It will take time, but Avraham’s descendants will acquire the land.

While the promise of the land is straightforward, how do we make sense of the strange, ominous backdrop of this covenant? Rabbi David Kimchi (the Radak), explains:

“The reason for dividing the creatures, as part of the covenant that God concluded with Avraham, was to suggest that all of the nations that dealt harshly with Israel will be divided among themselves and in dispute. They shall oppose each other and shall fight each other until they are destroyed…The birds symbolize the dispersion of Israel to the four corners of the heavens, but they are still one people.  All of them cleave unto their teachings and beliefs, and from east to west they share a single heritage, for they do not abandon their religion in spite of the troubles of exile and the harsh decrees that pass over them constantly…

Now the vultures descended upon the birds to consume them, but Avram drove them off. This indicates that although in every generation, the nations of the world shall rise up against us to destroy us, will God preserve us from their clutches in Avram's merit…”

Our claim and connection to Israel is not easy. Radak, who lived 1160-1235, clearly had a historical perspective to back him up. The Jews has been in exile for well over 1,000 years by then. The last 800 years or so have borne out the proposition that there will always be challenges, plenty of vultures to chase away.

Nevertheless, our connection to Israel runs deep. In a way, l’fum tzara agra, our reward and joy and optimism and inspiration when it comes to Israel is all the greater because of our complicated connection.

When I read about the wartime weddings, I could not help but think of the words of the Sheva Berachot, seven blessings, recited under the chuppa and for a week afterward. Particularly meaningful is the 5^th beracha:

“May the barren one (Jerusalem) rejoice greatly and delight in the ingathering of her children within her in joy. Lord, You are the source of all blessing, who causes Zion to rejoice with her children.”

It is in the moments where there is sadness and darkness that the sparks of hope, joy, and light shine brightest.

Rabbi Yosef Zvi Rimon was asked how to celebrate the bride and groom in situations in which they would not be able to celebrate as usual for the week after the wedding due to deployment. He noted that there is an opinion that, although Sheva Berachot are only recited for seven days, one can include a celebratory shoutout of the words “She’ha-simcha bi’mono – God is with us in joy” during Birkat Hamazon for an entire year after marriage. He explained that this extra time for acknowledging the wedding is unique to Israel since, thankfully, we have returned to our land and have an independent state.

Wartime weddings in Israel testify to the complicated covenant we have with God and the land. They are also inspiring stories of joy, foretelling the fullness of celebration and victory, please God, to come.

Say Tehillim! The Power of Psalms

There’s a lot of Tehillim being recited these days on behalf of Israel, IDF soldiers, those being held captive in Gaza, and Jewish people everywhere.

There are “Tehillim Groups” in which the entire Book of Psalms is recited (sometimes numerous times). There are chapters being recited at each prayer service. There are numerous initiatives utilizing Tehillim in praying for individuals.

We are attracted, attached, and maybe almost addicted to Tehillim.

The image above is of a Tehillim owned by Natan Sharansky. It is not an ordinary volume. In Fear No Evil, Sharansky writes:

On January 20th, 1980, my birthday, I was impatiently waiting for a congratulatory telegram from home…The next day I received an unexpected surprise – a real birthday gift! – when the official in charge of storing the prisoners’ belongings brought me a tiny book with a black binding, my Book of Psalms!”

The book provided Sharansky hope throughout his years of imprisonment, and he has never been separated from his Book Psalms ever again. In fact, it almost derailed his release. The New York Times reported:

Anatoly B. Shcharansky, describing his release from a Soviet labor camp, said today that he had flung himself into the snow and refused to continue on his way because his escorts tried to confiscate a book of Psalms that his wife had sent him from Israel.
 

''They took all my possessions from me,'' he said on Israeli television, speaking in Hebrew. ''I said I would not leave the country without the Psalms, which helped me so much. I lay down in the snow and said, 'Not another step.' ''

Natan only continued to freedom once the book was returned to him.

In Tehillim, we find comfort, solace, and strength. Tehillim is the go-to text when we feel a greater urgency to reach out and pray.

There is a long tradition for Tehillim being an important prayer tool. The Sages relate that King David, the author/compiler of Psalms, viewed his book as on par with the Torah. He felt Tehillim would be as necessary and important for the Jews as the Five Books of Moses. Jewish tradition seems to agree. Tehillim is the source for many of our prayers, and relevant Psalms are paired with every significant Jewish moment – from tragedies to celebrations to times of need.

I remember that shortly after 9/11, many synagogues would recite Tehillim after davening. Some shuls added a chapter of Tehillim in 2001 and have kept it up ever since. In September 2003, when I arrived at Congregation Kehilath Jeshurun, we recited Psalm 121 “in prayer for Israel and America during this period of continuing crisis.” That period continued through 2015, when the recitation ceased as it seemed to be an interminably long crisis. But it seems like there’s always a crisis.

What creates this strong connection with Tehillim? Why is it our go-to text during times of need?

Thomas Cahill, a prominent American scholar and writer noted:

“David’s Psalms reassure us that three thousand years ago people laughed and cried just as we do, bled and cursed, danced and lept—that our whole repertoire of emotions was theirs.”

In Tehillim, we realize we are not alone. King David and Jews throughout history cried out in times of difficulty and exulted joyously in times of celebration just like we do.

These days, we are reciting Psalms 121, 130, and 142 each morning and evening. These three chapters beseech God in different ways and with different emotions. (I encourage you to review them yourselves to see.)

Psalm 121 famously declares, “I lift up my eyes to the mountains…my help comes for God.” It is a confident and hopeful sentiment in which we know there will be salvation.

Psalm 130 is a cry “from the depths,” and we pray for God to redeem us while overlooking our flaws. We accept some degree of responsibility for our situation, yet ask God to save us anyway.

Psalm 142 is a cry from an almost hopeless place, which forces upon us awareness that we only have God upon whom to rely.

I read a fascinating article about Tehillim this week. The author wrote about a rabbi who said Tehillim in what seemed to be a “hopeless” situation and explored the power of Tehillim and the hold it has on us. It made me think how Tehillim allows us to channel our feelings and emotions and our faith and hopes and aspirations through a prayer mechanism that has been practiced for millennia.

Israeli journalist Sivan Rahav Meir interviewed Natan Sharansky. When she asked what gave him the strength to endure in prison, he replied: "A small book of Psalms that was always with me. I read it day and night." When she asked if he carried his book of Psalms everywhere, he answered: "No, I don't carry it; it carries me."

These days, we have a lot to carry – fear, anxiety, hatred directed our way. Reciting Tehillim won’t solve everything, but it can help carry us forward.

Fighting Fire with Spiritual Fire

Israel is at war. How do we fight?

On Tuesday night, I addressed the Nassau County Stands with Israel Rally using Psalm 20.

אֵלֶּה בָרֶכֶב וְאֵלֶּה בַסּוּסִים וַאֲנַחְנוּ  בְּשֵׁם ה' אֱ-לֹהֵינוּ נַזְכִּיר

Our enemies rely on chariots and horses, while we invoke the name of Hashem, our God.

I explained that Israel will respond to the brutality and inhumanity of Hamas with all of its military might. At the same time, we also respond with spiritual might.

I saw the following message posted:

“When Yaakov prepared for war with Esav, he split up his family into three groups: to fight, to give gifts, and to pray. We are all in different battle groups. It is hard to feel helpless so far away, but each of us must accept our mission.

For those physically fighting. May Hashem protect you!

For those giving gifts, may Hashem give you strength and success!

For those davening, studying Torah, or performing other mitzvot, each action is an angel that you send to protect the soldiers!”

There has been an incredible spiritual response to the attack on Israel. So many people want to donate, volunteer, and do just about anything to help. The stories and images are amazing.

The image at the top is from a restaurant in Tel Aviv. The Instagram caption read: “Tel Aviv’s elite non-kosher restaurants are kashering their kitchens so that all the soldiers will be able to eat the food that the restaurants are sending to the bases…”

We’ve seen soldiers dancing with the Torah as missiles fly in the background and volunteers encouraging soldiers with ruach close to the Gaza border.

There were thousands of challahs baked on behalf of soldiers. People are committing to do extra mitzvot, wear tefillin, and say berachot in the merit of those in battle. One initiative has distributed over 2,000 pairs of tzitzit and 15,000 kippot at the request of soldiers who want that spiritual connection as they go to into battle. Chabad in Israel planned on distributing 1,000,000 (yep, that’s MILLION) Shabbat candles this week.

Living Jewishly is part of the IDF strategy. One rabbi involved in helping meet the needs of soldiers received a request for grape juice for soldiers in tanks so they could make Kiddush in the field if need be.

Come to shul! One soldier in the field publicized a request from Jews around the world. He can’t make it to shul as he usually does, so he wants everyone to go in his stead and rock the services!

We should feel that our prayers and our mitzvot are part of the war effort. Whether it’s an extra candle for Shabbat, extra Psalms, some Torah studied, dropping off needed items, or donating money, all of these efforts will be part of the victory.  

We go out to battle with the name of God – with Judaism – as part of our arsenal.

During these difficult days and despite the pain, we have a responsibility.
 - Stay informed.
 - Stay connected with family and friends in Israel.
 - Attend rallies and gatherings supporting Israel.
 - Give generously to those helping soldiers and citizens.
 - Pray. Recite Psalm 121 daily for Israel.

Jewish Joy & Jewish Joyfulness

On October 14, 1663, Samuel Pepys visited the Spanish and Portuguese Synagogue in London. This was only seven years since Jews had been allowed back to England after being expelled in 1290. Rabbi Jonathan Sacks quotes from his diary describing the visit:

“… after dinner my wife and I, by Mr. Rawlinson’s conduct, to the Jewish Synagogue: where the men and boys in their vayles (i.e. tallitot), and the women behind a lattice out of sight; and some things stand up, which I believe is their Law, in a press (i.e. the Torah in the Aron) to which all coming in do bow; and at the putting on their vayles do say something, to which others that hear him do cry Amen, and the party do kiss his vayle. Their service all in a singing way, and in Hebrew. And anon their Laws that they take out of the press are carried by several men, four or five several burthens in all, and they do relieve one another; and whether it is that everyone desires to have the carrying of it, I cannot tell, thus they carried it round about the room while such a service is singing …  But, Lord! to see the disorder, laughing, sporting, and no attention, but confusion in all their service, more like brutes than people knowing the true God, would make a man forswear ever seeing them more and indeed I never did see so much, or could have imagined there had been any religion in the whole world so absurdly performed as this.”

It was Simchat Torah.

Simchat Torah is a time to rejoice, to celebrate, and to be happy being Jewish.

Not everyone enjoys the singing, the dancing, and the merriment the same way. That’s OK. We try different approaches and, sometimes, incentives to get people involved. We might pull people into the circle or offer the children candy and flags or have a “first Kiddush” in addition to the later one. Simchat Torah is a ritual release valve to elicit ebullient enthusiasm and excitement.

The Torah has a recipe for Jewish joy.

וְשָׂמַחְתָּ בְּחַגֶּךָ... וְהָיִיתָ אַךְ שָׂמֵחַ

You shall rejoice on your festival…and you shall have nothing but joy. (Devarim 16: 14, 15)

We all know the song. (Now, you’re singing it in your head…) The lyrics combine the beginning of one verse and the end of another. While they seem to describe the same thing: being happy on the holiday, the expressions describe two aspects of Jewish joy. Why?

V'samachata b’chagecha is a command to rejoice on the holiday. How can the Torah command an emotion? The Torah is commanding us to take actions that make us feel happy – eat, drink, sing, dance, study, pray, wear new clothes. As the Talmud says in Pesachim (109), celebrating a holiday is different for different people.

But there’s more to Jewish joy than the actions or even the feelings of happiness we feel.

V’hayita ach sameach – You shall have nothing but joy.

How is it possible to have only joy? What is the difference between “you shall be happy” and “you shall have only joy?”

Actions, rituals, and details are our pathways to feeling Jewish joy as a mindset.

Rabbi Doron Perez, the head of World Mizrachi, notes the irony in the that “the generation that relentlessly pursues happiness seems to be the most distant from it.” He notes this is the central theme in cultural critic Ruth Whippman’s book, America the Anxious – How Our Pursuit of Happiness is Creating a Nation of Nervous Wrecks. She quotes a study of psychologists from the University of California, Berkeley who show that “paradoxically, the more people valued and were encouraged to value happiness as a separate life goal, the less happy they were.”

We might think that happiness is the feeling that comes from certain actions or accomplishing a specific task or goal. True happiness is a state of being. Rabbi Samson Raphael Hirsch explicitly explains “ach sameach” as a state of being. We hope that our celebrating ritually – v’samachta b’chagecha - will lead to a joyous state of mind, heart, and soul – ach sameach.

We act joyously in the hopes of acquiring a joyful mindset.

It’s not easy or automatic. Sometimes, the feelings don’t last. Sukkot followed by Simchat Torah reminds us that as we strive to be joyful, it may take a lot of celebrating joyously to get us there. That’s fine. Just keep finding – or inventing – reasons to feel joy.

The head of a school in London came to Rabbi Sacks, of blessed memory, for advice. The school was floundering, morale was low, enrollment was falling, and test scores were dreadful. Rabbi Sacks suggested that the school needed to undergo a culture shift. “You need to celebrate,” he said. She turned to him with a sigh. “You don’t understand,” she said. “We have nothing to celebrate. Everything in the school is going wrong.” “In that case,” Rabbi Sacks said, “Find something to celebrate. If a single student has done better, celebrate. If someone has a birthday, celebrate. If it’s Tuesday, celebrate.” In time, the school turned around – in large measure thanks to Rabbi Sacks’ advice.

Simchat Torah may be on a Sunday, but the message is clear. We need to rejoice in our Judaism. Not just once a year, but as often as we can. Once the holidays conclude, the joy of “ach sameach” should reverberate in our ears and remind us: Be happy being Jewish. If it’s Tuesday, celebrate!