Antisemitic terror reared its ugly head again this week on American soil. We are all devastated by the attack on two people leaving a Jewish venue in our nation’s capital. We mourn their loss and pray for their families.
The emails in my inbox, the text messages on my phone, and the plethora of articles and statements online all seem centered on the same recycled – and tired – mantra. Condemn the act, declare that we won’t ever allow it to happen again, revisit security procedures, and move on until the next event occurs, G-d Forbid.
While not technically incorrect, these approaches – in large part – miss the point. Let’s put aside that we have made the same assertions in the past and marched to the same drumbeat again and again. Yet, the result is that this has become more common in our lifetime, not less common. We are obviously failing.
So, where do we go from here?
Let’s have a peek at the parsha for some insight.
Parshat Behar-Bechukotai contains a depressing rebuke of the Jewish people. Almighty G-d tells us that we will be duly rewarded for following in His ways. But, if we stray, we will suffer the consequences.
Here’s one description G-d offers of how things look when we are connected with Him:
“I am G-d, your G-d, who took you out of Egypt, from being slaves to them; I broke the crossbars of your yoke and led you upright.”
Several verses later, G-d warns that if we abandon Him, this is what will happen:
“I will break the pride of your strength.”
Interestingly, the Hebrew word for “upright,” קוממיות (komemiyut) only appears once in the Torah. G-d is telling us that when we are connected to Him, we are upright. Conversely, when we disconnect, our pride is broken.
As a reminder: punishments in the Torah should generally be viewed as consequences, not penalties. Hashem is telling us that disconnecting from who we really are at our core will inevitably lead to a weakening of our pride. On the other hand, if we invest in our Jewish identity and observance, our pride will be bolstered.
And, this is why it’s time to learn from our enemies. Why do you think there is such a strong animosity toward Jews and Israel on campuses, in coffee shops, in online chats, and in our neighbors’ homes?
If you answered that it’s the war in Israel, you are dead wrong. This may be the pretext this time around, but hate is not born overnight.
Here’s the open secret: Those who wish us harm have been planting seeds for decades. They have been influencing innocent people through funding, international organizations, the Internet, and more. Instead of rallying people to hate Jews, they have been focused on creating followers to their narrative. They are smart enough to know that the Jew-hatred will manifest itself when the opportunity arises – so long as they have prepped their useful accomplices along the way.
They have been playing the long game for many years.
And, we continue to play the short game. Knee-jerk reactions. Outrage and condemnations. Increased funding and security. Another shrine defending our existence.
The one thing bitterly lacking is the one thing that can actually move the needle.
It’s time to invest in Komemiyut!
Instead of worrying about fighting for our right to live, we need to invest in living Jewishly itself. The solution lies not in social media campaigns or big rallies (though they may have their short-term role). Rather, our focal efforts must be invested in building strong Jewish communities and living Judaism enthusiastically. How can we expect our children to keep fighting for the hollow campaign of not allowing people to kill us? They don’t even know why they are Jewish or what it means to live as a Jew. If you don’t know what you are truly fighting for, the cause is lost already.
We need to stop hiding our mitzvot! We need to stop following the trend of the day and redefining it as Judaism. Let’s embrace who we really are! Let’s behave like Jews and give that gift to our children.
I recently read about my classmate’s grandfather, Rabbi Moshe Zalman Feiglin, who fled Europe and settled in the small farming town of Shepparton, Australia. Despite the fact that there was no real Jewish community there, his children all remained committed Jews. When asked how they could maintain their Judaism without Jewish education and infrastructure, one son responded: “We would wake every morning to the sound of our father tearfully reciting Psalms and praying for us. The living example of our father – that leading a Jewish life was seared into the core of his being – will stay with me forever.”
These are the building blocks of Jewish existence. When a girl sees her mother come home every Friday before sunset – even in the short winter days – and light Shabbat candles, it is the gift of meaning and belonging. When a boy sees his father spend five minutes donning tefillin before heading out to work, he knows that we stand for something unique.
When we are Komemiyut, G-d will break the crossbars again and lead us upright in our land.
(Special thanks to my colleague Rabbi Yisroel Cotlar for inspiring this message).