When we hear the words “Jewish tragedy” we usually conjure up images of the Holocaust. But the Holocaust is a tragedy that cannot be expressed in human terms. The tragedy I am referring to is a disease that has attacked our generation: spiritual blindness.
Too often we do not even realize we’ve fallen victim to this disease. Only after we’ve been maimed and paralyzed do we realize we’ve been infected.
Spiritual blindness is manifested in apathy, ingratitude, and feelings of entitlement. As victims, we fail to appreciate what it was that we had; we realize we possessed a treasure only after we’ve lost it. These treasures are our parents and our grandparents, and it is all too easy to become indifferent to their presence and take them for granted.
That spiritual blindness extends from our families to our interactions with our people, our land, our Torah, and with Hashem Himself.
Eretz Yisrael – our Holy Land from which we were exiled almost 2,000 years ago and cast to the four corners of the world – remains forever in our hearts. Even throughout the centuries of torture, oppression, and slaughter we never forgot our Eretz Yisrael. We never forgot our Jerusalem.
I have written about my early youth growing up in Hungary when I was unfamiliar with the geography of the world – even with the geography of Hungary – but I did know the geography of Eretz Yisrael. I knew exactly where Jerusalem was, where Hebron was, where Kever Rochel was.
I knew all that because my saintly parents, HaRav HaGaon Avraham HaLevi Jungreis, zt”l, and Rebbetzin Miriam Jungreis, a”h, nurtured my brothers and me on the stories of our Eretz Yisrael. In our Torah, Eretz Yisrael is referred to as “the land of milk and honey,” and that was the milk that nourished us, the honey that was our sweet candy.
We were not the only ones. “Next Year in Jerusalem” was the clarion call of every Jew throughout the centuries in every dungeon and ghetto and mansion and palace. Whether we were in the valley or on the mountain, Jerusalem and Israel remained engraved upon our hearts and souls. In our days of joy and our times of sorrow, the prayers for Jerusalem were what sustained us.
Now, after nearly 2,000 years of savage persecution, culminating in the unspeakable horror of the Holocaust, Hashem has allowed our generation to experience a stunning miracle never before seen in the annals of mankind. The living skeletons of the Holocaust returned home. Hashem granted us the ability to redeem the ancient soil that had turned into thistles and stones. And Hashem allowed us to triumph over the nations that surrounded us – nations united by the goal of destroying the Jews in their land.
In those days events unfolded so rapidly and so spectacularly, it was actually dizzying. In the blink of an eye we emerged from dense darkness into brilliant light. Every battle we won was achieved with the valor, blood, and sacrifice of our sons and daughters. Let us remember, however, that we can offer our lives and attempt to reach beyond our limits – even if our enemies greatly outnumber us – but what if our enemies have the latest and deadliest weapons? The odds of survival in those circumstances are quite slim. But Am Yisrael not only survived, we triumphed!
How did we do it?
The answer is simple. Only a blind man can fail to see it. Only a deaf man can fail to hear it. But we who had the awesome privilege of witnessing the open miracles of Hashem succumbed to spiritual blindness. The miracles Hashem granted us were breathtaking and astounding – but we remained spiritually comatose.
Every Shabbos and Yom Tov prior to saying Birkas HaMazon we sing “Shir HaMa’alos – Psalm 126, a song of ascent written by King David. “When Hashem shall return the captivity of Zion we will be like dreamers.” Our generation was chosen to see the beginning of that return.
Hashem has gathered our remnants from all over the world. There are Jews today in Eretz Yisrael representing every continent and speaking every language – and in an instant we became one. We redeemed our ancient land and planted orchards and forests in the desert. We built cities and villages. We won fierce battles against those who came to devour us.
Yes, there is a simple answer to the question I posed above. How did we do it? It all came from Hashem, our Heavenly Father who neither sleeps nor slumbers. Life in Israel is full of miracles. The Divine Hand can be seen everywhere but you must have eyes that are willing to see, ears that are willing to hear, and a heart in which the Pintele Yid is still flickering.
Think about it. For two millennia we were the downtrodden of the world, exiled and dispersed and at the mercy of nations that persecuted us at best and murdered us at worst. We were weak and defenseless, with no weapons and no allies. And yet, after all those centuries of our blood being spilled, with no means of fighting back, we rose from the dead and not only defeated our enemies but triumphed spectacularly.
In Israel nothing can be taken for granted. If you know how to see, if you know how to look, you will be able to detect the Mighty Hand of Hashem everywhere. We must only learn to free ourselves of the deadly disease of spiritual blindness.
To be continued
