As we enter the period of the Four Parshiyot, which ushers in the Pesach season – a time when we long for Geulah more than any other – we began with Parshat Shekalim. This parsha mandates that every man in Israel, rich or poor, donate exactly half a shekel to the Sanctuary. Rav Hirsch explains that a half-shekel, rather than a whole, signifies that we cannot achieve our goals alone; only by partnering with others can we fulfill our fundamental needs, such as the daily Tamid offerings, the most crucial sacrifices brought by Am Yisrael.
Wags joke that the timing of Parshat Shekalim coincides with the impending Pesach expenses, urging us to get our shekels ready. But in truth, the deeper lesson is that shared responsibility for national burdens is a prerequisite for Geulah. Only when everyone participates equally and values each other’s contributions can we hope to achieve redemption.
This message resonated deeply as I reflected on two contrasting events this past week. The first was my participation in an RCA Rabbis’ solidarity mission to Israel, arranged by World Mizrachi, where we sought to bring a message of care to those suffering. Yet, as always, we received far more than we gave in lessons about mesirut nefesh, ahavat haTorah, and love of Am & Eretz Yisrael.
Our first stop was the Yeshivat Hesder in Maalot, near the Lebanese border. We met Rosh Yeshiva Rav Yehoshua Weitzman, who spoke about running a Hesder yeshiva in wartime. Baruch Hashem, none of the current students fell in this war, but hundreds engaged in combat, and several alumni lost their lives. Despite constant missile fire, the yeshiva never ceased learning. From the war’s onset, students have been studying Torah 24/7 around the clock, a merit Rav Weitzman believes has contributed to their relative safety. In addition to their learning, the yeshiva has provided crucial counseling to soldiers and their families. Rav Weitzman challenges each returning soldier with a profound question: “What inner strength did you discover in yourself that you didn’t know you had, and how will you use it in your life ahead?”
We then visited Michael and Hadas, the parents of Lt. Yair Shoshan, Hy”d, who fell just a month ago. Their son was a revered commander, yet humble and kind; his parents never knew of many of his rewards and accolades which he hid away until after his death. He excelled in academics, mentored troubled youth, mastered piano and martial arts, and was a beacon of religious inspiration. Despite his demanding military schedule, he adhered to a rigorous daily learning regimen – including three pages of Gemara, a chapter of Mesilat Yesharim, another of chassidus, and several others that I don’t remember – far more than many who study full-time. His influence extended even to army culture, where he fostered deep respect for tradition and set an example followed by others of eliminating profanity and swearing in his tough army units.
In Even Menachem and Kiryat Shmona – communities near the Lebanese border – entire populations have been displaced since the war began. We witnessed bombed-out buildings, homes ravaged by neglect, and the struggles of those striving to keep communities intact. With the evacuation officially ending on March 1, thousands face an agonizing choice: uproot the new lives they’ve begun elsewhere or return to devastated homes with little government support. Many have served in the IDF, sustaining injuries and trauma, yet receive minimal assistance in rebuilding their lives. Apparently, “supporting our troops” takes on a different meaning when it involves actual help.
The next day, we met Rav Yishai and Tzofia Englelman, a rebbe in Yeshivat Maaleh Adumim who is slowly recuperating from severe wounds suffered in Gaza while remaining a beacon of strength for his talmidim. We met Bazy Rubin in Efrat who struggles to keep her family together while her husband spends hundreds of days in reserve duty. I am reminded of what Shimon Apisdorf recently wrote:
“Otniel Rosh Yeshiva Rabbi Benny Kalmanson said that families of officers and miluimnik-reserve soldiers were ‘falling apart.’ He told of one company commander that had to turn over command to a junior officer because he had to go home to ‘save his marriage.’ The crushing weight on these families, in addition to the families of 846 soldiers that have given their lives, and 3,555 that have been moderately or seriously wounded, is unbearable.”
We then spent several hours at Yeshivat Har Etzion, learning with talmidim and then meeting Rosh Yeshiva Rav Moshe Lichtenstein, who spoke of the challenges of yeshiva in wartime and the many current and former students in combat. He reflected particularly on the moral dilemmas of fighting an enemy that threatens Klal Yisrael while maintaining our ethical compass. The incredibly inspiring Rav Moshe Taragin, whose son was gravely injured, described the experience of joining the painful “club” of families of severely wounded soldiers while continuing to support his students. We met Rav Hillel Merzbach, military rav to 2,500 soldiers, helping them to navigate impossible halachic and emotional challenges, and Rav Yosef Zvi Rimon, who, in addition to his heavy rabbinic duties and prolific halachic scholarship, dedicates himself to aiding families, widows, and those seeking shidduchim.
We ended our mission at Me’ahal HaGevurah, a site ensuring that fallen soldiers’ sacrifices are not in vain and that Israel fights until victory. We listened to Miriam Elezri, mother of Yonatan, Hy”d, who was killed on October 7 defending his brethren in Ofakim while still in pre-army training.
That was one part of last week. The other was observing the remarkable unity across Israel following the confirmed deaths of Shiri, Kfir, and Ariel Bibas. Tens of thousands lined the roads in collective mourning, displaying unparalleled national solidarity – except for the conspicuous absence of one large group.
A group that does not share in the sacrifice and heroism we witnessed. A group that would turn out in droves if one of their leaders passed but could not join the rest of the country in this agonizing funeral. Without minimizing the truly admirable efforts of some individuals within their ranks who learn, pray, and assist the soldiers, hostages, and evacuees, the broader community remains insulated – detached from the reality the rest of the nation is enduring. One mainly hears from them in their efforts to ensure that whether or not they are learning, they “would rather die than be drafted.”
Even when they acknowledge the crisis, it is often through a lens of self-congratulation, crediting their learning alone for the nation’s protection. This mindset ignores the heroic Torah learning within the Religious Zionist camp – learning that exists alongside military service and national responsibility. It also starkly contrasts Moshe Rabbeinu’s rebuke: “Shall your brothers go to war while you sit here?” (Bamidbar 32:6). The disconnect from the reality that the rest of the country is facing is glaring, unfathomable, and painful.
As we approach the season of Geulah, we must hope that this year, redemption is not merely a wish for “Next Year in Jerusalem.” It is clear that true Geulah will only come when we are united – not just in words, but in action, sacrifice, and mutual responsibility.
A charity set up in Yonatan Elazri’s memory is at www.charidy.com/otzemc/10056.
