Hapax legomenon.
A hapax legomenon, sometimes abbreviated as hapax, is a Greek word which means “being said once.” It refers to a word or an expression that occurs only once within a context: either in the written record of an entire language, in the works of an author, or in a single text.
This week, we encounter a hapax in the parsha: קוֹמְמִיּוּת
אֲנִי ה' אֱ-לֹהֵיכֶם אֲשֶׁר הוֹצֵאתִי אֶתְכֶם מֵאֶרֶץ מִצְרַיִם מִהְיֹת לָהֶם עֲבָדִים וָאֶשְׁבֹּר מֹטֹת עֻלְּכֶם וָאוֹלֵךְ אֶתְכֶם קוֹמְמִיּוּת׃
“I
am Hashem your God who brought you out from the land of Egypt to be their
slaves no more, who broke the bars of your oppression and made you walk komemiyut.”
(Vayikra 26:13)
What is komemiyut?
The root of the word is to “get up.” Rashi explains komemiyut means upright stature. One who is burdened cannot stand straight. God freed us from Egypt, allowing to stand tall. The Netziv goes one step further. Removing the heavy burden of slavery is not enough for the Jew to stand tall as there remains the fear of re-enslavement. Komemiyut means confidence and pride. This verse teaches us all that Jews must stand tall with confidence and pride in who we are. It is part of who we are, and it is up to us to display it.
Rabbi Yaakov Galinsky, was born in Poland, studied in the famed Novardok Yeshiva, and spent World War Two exiled in Siberia before settling in Israel. He was well-known for his Torah talks and stories. During his time in Siberia, he would rise early in the morning to daven before the other prisoners woke up. One day, he noticed a fellow prisoner, a Polish non-Jew, would also wake up early. Each morning, he would remove a folded uniform from under his bed, put it on, stand up straight and salute, and then quickly take off the uniform and replace it under the bed. Extremely curious, Rabbi Galinsky asked his fellow prisoner about this enigmatic daily ritual. The Polish prisoner replied:
“My whole life I have been committed to serving my country. Ever since I was a little boy, I dreamt of becoming a general in the Polish army. I finally achieved the rank of general — just before I was captured by the Russians. Now in captivity, everything I had worked for, everything I wanted to become, was gone. So early in the morning, I don my uniform, and I am my true self. Regardless of how the Russians or our fellow prisoners see me, for those few moments when I am wearing that uniform, I am not a lowly, broken inmate, but a proud general in the Polish army.”
Komemiyut.
This word sticks in my memory. Over a decade ago on Shabbat Bechukotai, Ramaz seniors spoke at Seudah Shlishit about their recent class trip to Poland and Israel. (The trip is always around this time of year, and we’re having some current seniors present in Shul at Seduah Shlishit this week.) One student spoke about his emotions after seeing Auschwitz and all the death that took place in Poland and then immediately traveling to Israel. He spoke about the pride and gratitude he felt in family members and survivors in general picking up the pieces after the Shoah. He summarized it all with the word “komemiyut.”
Jews must stand tall. We need to have confidence in who we are. It is needed now more than ever. One of my favorite Rabbi Jonathan Sacks quotes is, “Non-Jews respect Jews who respect Judaism, and they are embarrassed by Jews who are embarrassed by Judaism.” (Radical Then, Radical Now, Chapter 15) These past 8 months have rattled our confidence. The war in Israel and the rising hatred towards Jews in America, have made standing up for what we believe in harder. Some Jews are lowering their voices and visibility. We cannot let that happen.
Thankfully, there are inspiring examples of standing tall.
This week, Natan Sharansky wrote about the 500 Columbia students who signed an open letter defending their support for Israel and decrying harassment they’ve faced by pro-Palestinian, anti-Israel groups and activities. “We are here, writing to you as Jewish students at Columbia University, who are connected to our community and deeply engaged with our culture and history,” the letter says. “We would like to speak in our name.”
Sharansky, no stranger to standing up for Jews and Israel, may prove to be the turning point in the struggle for American Jewry’s future. Recalling his own experiences and those of the Soviet dissident struggle, he writes that “in order to defend your rights, you have to first define and claim them. Until America’s Jewish students publicly claim their right to their Jewish and Zionist identity, they will continue to fight at a disadvantage.” He urges students at other universities to follow the Columbia students’ lead. If more students at more campuses “stand up for their own truths—they stand a real chance to revolutionize the campuses, defeat the antisemitic forces that have occupied them, and win the battle for American Jewry’s future.”
In Israel, there are numerous examples of courage, heroism, and resilience. Here’s one that literally invokes komemiyut.
Sgt. Maj. Aviad Cohen, a young father and soldier in the Etzioni Brigade, was killed battling terrorists on October 7. In advance of Purim, his widow posted a notice on the door of their home: “Happy Purim! You are asked to enter this home with your head held high and standing tall! Fill yourself with strength and happiness; only then may you knock on our door. We are the family of a hero who spread light and hope during his life and with his death. We are proud of all of you.”
Standing tall is the posture demanded of us from the time we left Egypt. For much of Jewish history, there have been many forces bringing us down and impeding on that posture. In recent years, we have reclaimed our confidence. Thanks to the State of Israel and an America which has been kind to Jews, we have the ability to stand tall again. In particular, Israel’s victory in the Six Day War had a major role in energizing in Jewish pride and straightening the Jewish posture. As Rabbi Haskel Lookstein often says, “Before 1967, Jews were akin to question marks – stooped, bowed, lacking confidence. After 1967, Jews became exclamation marks – ramrod straight, confident, and loud.”
As we march down Fifth Avenue on Sunday and celebrate Yom Yerushalayim next Wednesday, we recall and recommit ourselves to the promise, blessing, and responsibility of komemiyut, of Jewish dignity, self-confidence, and pride. Like they declared back at Solidarity Sunday marches for Soviet Jewry, “We are Jews; we couldn’t be prouder. If you can’t hear us, we’ll shout a little louder!”