Dear Rebbetzin Jungreis,
I read your column every week and would like to commend you for addressing the challenges that confront our people.
Very often we hear and read words that are nothing more than empty platitudes that camouflage reality. Sadly, our reality today is extremely worrisome and, as you keep telling us, we have to wake up in order to be able to deal with it.
You’ve written about a two-fold formula from Parshas Va’eirathat was at the root of our redemption from Egypt – prayer and loving-kindness(gemilas chasadim). But how do I make them part of my life?
I try to be observant. I try to daven daily but I usually don’t feel anything. I try to pray the entire morning and afternoon services. It takes me a long time to finish. Just the same, it has not changed my life. It has not awakened my heart or my mind.
As for loving-kindness, I try to be as charitable as I can. We are not a wealthy family. My husband makes a moderately good living but by the time we finish with bills and other expenses there’s not much left. As you know, tuition and camp costs are very high. Despite this, we try to give as much tzedakah as we can.
So am I fulfilling my responsibilities regarding prayer and loving-kindness? What else do I need to do? I sincerely want to serve Hashem and be an asset to our people. My grandparents are Holocaust survivors whose families were killed by the Nazis, so I know all about the world’s attitude toward Jews. I also know the threats we Jews face today are frighteningly real.
I realize that many people view such concerns as overdrawn and neurotic. “Everything will be fine,” they say. “Enjoy life. Go on vacation. Go to the theater. Go shopping. Life is too short to waste it by worrying all the time.”
I’ve given up discussing anything serious with my friends because they either laugh or look at me as though I’m crazy. But when I read your columns I feel validated.
In our hate-ridden climate it’s difficult to think of any nation that would come to our defense if the Jews of a given country were in mortal peril. As you’ve pointed out, the Torah tells us we are a people destined to dwell alone, not to be reckoned among the nations. How painfully true that prophecy has turned out to be.
Perhaps I’m more sensitive to this than others because I’m a granddaughter of survivors. But people, even Jews, have grown tired of hearing about the Holocaust. I get the same reaction all the time: “Don’t talk about it; it’s too depressing.” Nobody wants to hear. Nobody wants to speak about things that are painful and uncomfortable. Nobody wants to learn from the past, even the very recent past.
But if we Jews choose to forget, who will remember?
Pesach is coming and we will all gather around our Seder tables and recount the tale of our torturous Egyptian bondage. But how many of us will really understand? How many of us will really feel the pain of our ancestors?
On the other hand, I think we know how many at our Seder table will say, “Come on, let’s get on with the show, I’m hungry.” The good food, the wine, the joyous songs, the coming together of family and friends – these all make it so easy to be oblivious to the pain and suffering of our ancestors, and to the growing Jew-hatred and delegitimization of Israel in our own time.
