In my role as Educational Director for Herzog Global (a division of Herzog College in Israel), I have traveled to many Jewish communities over the past year in the United Kingdom, the United States, and South Africa. In every community I visit I feel a sense of warmth, caring and worry for my well-being, the well-being of my community, and that of the people of all of Israel. Every community prays for our protection and safety. Many have the familiar “Bring them Home” posters we see plastered all around our country, posted in the safe confines of the shul or Jewish community, where they cannot be pulled down by hateful antisemites.
And yet, despite this ongoing concern – or perhaps because of it – I have begun to wonder what this war is doing to our children’s attitude towards Israel. Of course, many devoted and dedicated hardcore Zionists will continue to love, visit and yearn for the Land. But what is the first thing many of our children think of when they think of Israel today? Is it the Kotel, or kosher McDonald’s or a thriving, fun, exciting country? Or do they think of hostages, and sirens and rockets and terrorism? After all, isn’t that what they see and hear, not only in the news and on their phones, but also in their schools and shuls?
We – the adults, parents, and educators – must be aware of this shift. Israel was always a bit of a scary place, but that was tempered with school trips and family vacations and fun and energetic Israeli music videos. But now, many of those trips have been cancelled, delayed yet-again. The music videos keep coming to their phones, but they’re far more somber, mournful, defiant – always war-related. And while we cannot control the feed on their phones, we can indeed control the “feed” in our homes, and around our Shabbat and Yom Tov tables, and our family WhatsApp groups and personal conversations.
I fear that our need to obsess over the war may have a detrimental effect on our kids’ long-term relationship with Israel. The news is not all bad. Truthfully, Israel has shown remarkable resilience and strength during the past year. After the horror of October 7, Israelis have shown a sense of unity and purpose perhaps unparalleled since the Yom Kippur war. Our soldiers have demonstrated incredible devotion and bravery, on behalf of their country and the Jewish people. And the IDF and Mossad have rebounded with military and technological prowess, skill and ability that has captured the imagination of the world. Why then do we sometimes take such a negative perspective on our situation, as if we were reporting for the AP or the New York Times?
Ah – the New York Times – and the media in general. Our addiction to western media that reviles us belies any sense of logic. And yet, we as a community still feel the need to obsess over every hateful, biased article.
For the first three weeks after October 7, I – like every Israeli – found myself walking around in a daze. We were shell-shocked, of course. But there was something else. I found myself incessantly checking the news, racked with worry. Would Bibi invade Gaza? It was not a foregone conclusion at the time.
Somehow, after weeks of worry, I came to a realization. I realized that the MatKal – Israel’s chiefs of staff – had yet to call me for my opinion about what to do. And in all likelihood, they weren’t going to. (They have yet to reach out). So I found myself checking the news incessantly, racked with worry on an hourly basis – despite the fact that I had no input whatsoever on the outcome.
I came to another realization. The many news channels which I was listening to were not informing me, but instead, making me upset. And they were – and still are – doing it on purpose.
That’s right – the goal of media is to make us angry, anxious or upset. After all, in today’s media, there are so many outlets, websites and channels, the only way to garner any attention at all – and generate clicks and revenue – is by upsetting us. Try it yourself: Check your favorite news outlet. How many articles are actually about a news event that happened? How many tweets or posts or articles are about other posts or tweets or articles? “Can you believe this politician said this?” “Isn’t it horrible that this news outlet wrote that?” Be angry. Be upset! But subscribe to me!
I realized that my personal well-being and sanity were far more important than some imagined need to be all-knowing about every aspect of the endless media wars related to Israel. So I tuned out the news – especially in Israel. I stopped listening to the radio. I still read the news and scroll social media. But I read far more selectively. I obviously follow current events – but I try not to obsess. And it really has made a difference.
I am not suggesting not talking about Israel – of course we must. But is there a need to always bring up the worst news and share it with everyone we know? Must every phone call – especially to your relatives in Israel – begin with “Did you hear what happened today?” Yes – I did. We all did. Must every Shabbat meal rehash the latest round of United Nations accusations? Unless you are in fact the U.S. ambassador to Israel, your Shabbat discussion won’t change the situation, but it will upset you and your children and your family.
So of course talk about Israel. But talk about it positively. Share divrei Torah. Talk about your Israeli relatives, and what’s happening in their lives – how they’re going to school and work, marrying off their children, and taking vacations – despite the fact that they’re probably serving in miluim for the third time. Talk about the same things we all talked about before the war.
But whatever we talk about – whether on the phone, or at the dinner table, or with our neighbors at kiddush – remember that our kids are listening, not just to what we say, but to how we say it.
At the same time, we cannot – nor should we – hide the truth. It has indeed been a difficult, terrible year. We have suffered, and continue to suffer – terrible losses. I recently spoke to a group of yeshiva students in Johannesburg and asked them, “How many of you have a family member – a brother or cousin – serving in the IDF right now?” Probably sixty percent of them raised their hands.
This war is new in that our kids’ anxiety and worry isn’t just manufactured by social media and evil anti-Israel media outlets. It’s real, caused by honest concern and worry for people that they know personally, be it their cousin, or the shlichim that spent the year in their school last year.
How then do we square in their – and our – minds the notion that Eretz Yisrael is in fact a gift from G-d with the very real pain that we have endured for the last year?
One answer – I think – is that we need to reframe what a “gift” means, and how we are meant to acquire it.
Undoubtedly, G-d considers the Land of Israel to be a gift to us, the Jewish people. The Torah calls the Promised Land a gift numerous times. Time after time is the book of Devarim, Moshe refers to the Land as the places, “That Hashem your G-d is giving to you as an inheritance.”
Some gift. It’s a gift that we’ve had to fight for with blood, sweat and tears since we entered it three thousand years ago. In fact, the Gemara in Berachot (5a) highlights this very idea, noting the suffering and pain we endure in order to benefit from the most important “gifts” that G-d can give us.
Rabbi Shimon ben Yocḥai says: The Holy One, Blessed be He, gave Israel three precious gifts, all of which were given only by means of suffering, which purified Israel so that they may merit to receive them. These gifts are: Torah, Eretz Yisrael, and the World-to-Come.
Why does the Moshe call the Land of Israel a gift, when he knows that the Jewish nation will need to sacrifice terribly to acquire this divine “gift?” What type of gift is it if we can only benefit from that gift through terrible suffering?
Yet, logically, we understand the inherent wisdom of Rabbi Shimon’s teaching. When I raised this question to a group of middle-school students in South Africa, I used the following analogy.
“Do any of you like Lego?” I asked. Some of them raised their hands.
Imagine, I asked them, that your parents decided to give you the most expensive Lego set that they could find – a Lego Millenium Falcon from the original Star Wars. At over 7,500 pieces, the fully assembled spaceship is almost three feet wide. You could actually see the kids getting exciting, thinking about such an amazing gift.
Now, I told them, imagine that your parents, in addition to buying you the set (which costs $850!), hired someone to build it for you! And they brought out the fully built Millenium Falcon! Amazing, right?
The children got it right away. No, they said, they wouldn’t like that at all.
They explained that the whole point of the Lego set is putting it together. They want to spend the hours and hours it would take them to painstakingly build that toy. And the pleasure they’d get from placing the Millenium Falcon on their mantlepiece would be robbed from them if someone else built it. The building – the toil and the suffering – is what gives the gift meaning.
The most meaningful gifts are those for which we must work and suffer. In fact, somehow, the work – toil and suffering itself – can make the gift that much more meaningful. This is what Rashbi taught us, and what we must remind our children. The most meaningful gifts they can acquire – the Torah they acquire at school, the World to Come we all hope to merit, and yes, the majesty of the Land of Israel – can only come through yissurin, through suffering.
We are living Rashbi’s declaration yet again in our generation. And, as terrible as that suffering is, we cannot forget the fact that we merit to live in a generation when we suffer for Eretz Yisrael – to live in it, protect it, defend it and develop it.
As we mark a year since that terrible Simchat Torah day in Israel, I pray for the success of our soldiers and the unity of our nation – in Israel and around the world. And I pray that our children should appreciate the power of the gift of the Land of Israel, and appreciate the value, strength and power of the price we pay to benefit from this incredible, holy, exalted gift.
