On Wars and Existential Faith

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Wars take their toll. One day we rejoice in our victories, and the next day we mourn the irreparable loss of precious Jewish souls. We wake up hearing the names of those young soldiers who have sacrificed their lives for all of us, and our hearts break. These emotional ups and downs are inevitable in any armed conflict. They are part of a package that, I trust, will ultimately yield a positive outcome, giving even more meaning to the sacrifice of these wonderful young IDF soldiers.

Wars also bring about profound changes in society. They either atomize or strengthen it. They reset its values and priorities. Israeli society is no exception, and there are many changes happening, most of which I believe are very positive. These changes will become evident in the coming years and decades when those currently fighting against an Amalekite enemy become the spokespeople and political leaders of Israel.

One change I’ve noticed is that Israeli society is becoming more respectful of religion and observant Jews. This is not a minor change. It’s part of a process of “unity of our people.”

THE DELICATE BALANCE

Israelis, and even secular Jews in the diaspora, seem to be more open to embracing Jewish tradition. This increased respect for the Torah doesn’t happen in a vacuum. I feel that the old anti-religious prejudice is dissipating more and more. The war has shown that the more observant Jews, the Hasidim, the Haredim, have a complete dedication to Israeli society, and in many areas, their contribution is essential: civil assistance of all kinds, financial aid, medical help, and more, including the thousands of cases of Haredi soldiers recently joining the army. The most fundamental change in this aspect is “cultural.” In the past, some Haredi sectors used to criticize the army and soldiers for not being “religious enough.” This, it seems to me, is disappearing. In times of crisis, eyes open. And no one can ignore that the army is protecting our lives and “our religious observance in Eretz Israel.” Suddenly, the front lines became sanctified. Even in the most orthodox sectors, there is a sentiment that the soldiers, even the less religious ones, are considered Kedoshim (holy) because they give their lives for Kiddush Hashem, the sanctification of God’s name, by protecting Am Israel.

This change is not widely discussed and may not be immediately noticeable because it’s not abrupt, but it’s there and growing. This change is also causing a significant part of Israeli society that used to “demonize” religious Jews in the past to change its view. Gradually, both religious and secular Israelis are moving closer to each other. They are gravitating toward the center. Suddenly, the focus is no longer on what separates us but on the most basic thing that unites us: survival in the land of Israel.

EXISTENTIAL EMUNA

Speaking of survival, the war has produced a new kind of Emuna, Jewish faith, a connection with God. In an interview a few days ago, former IDF commander Rafi Eitan commented profoundly on Channel 14 (www.now14.co.il) regarding a video that moved me to tears. In this video, a soldier surprises his family by returning home. The young mother sees him, obviously becomes emotional, and hugs him. Her son had been fighting in Gaza, and she hadn’t seen him for over 100 days. While hugging him, the mother prays aloud. She thanks Bore Olam (the Creator) for her son’s safety, reciting the Mizmor LeTodá, the psalm of gratitude to God, “by heart.” The panelists on Channel 14 note that neither the mother nor the son appear to be religious. Eitan says, “We are witnessing a new type of national connection with God: Emuná Kiyumit” (אמונה קיומית), which I would translate as existential Emuná. What did Rafi Eitan mean? He referred to the connection with God that becomes apparent, emerges, or intensifies when one experiences a traumatic existential event, a matter of life or death, such as illness or war. When one realizes the fragility of life, an approach to God begins, and an incomparable intimate relationship develops. I think of the hundreds of thousands of mothers of Jewish soldiers in Gaza who spend the long nights of the war, literally without sleep. They constantly fear that someone will knock on the door in the middle of the night to deliver the worst news of their lives. These Jewish mothers, even the less observant ones, “spend the nights with God.” They overcome panic by praying and reciting Tehilim. And since they know Hebrew, they understand what King David wrote, strengthening their connection with God, praying, and filling themselves with hope, visualizing the reunion with their beloved children. They speak to God from the depths of their suffering. And they repeat in their hearts a thousand times the words of gratitude they promise to dedicate to the Creator when that sacred embrace finally arrives.

TELL ME HOW YOU SHOW YOURSELF, AND I’LL TELL YOU WHO YOU ARE

The religious uniform has taken a backseat in this war. There is a new phenomenon in Israel: even those who do not wear a kippah or do not dress modestly are also observant. They also practice their Emuná! I see this often on Channel 14 (which I still recommend watching). Most of the panelists do not wear kippahs, but they express a love for Judaism, the Torah, HaShem, and an “admiration” for the dedication of more observant Jews, which is wonderful. As one of my teachers used to say, what matters is not appearing more religious than you are, but being more religious than you appear.

The terrible war in Israel—and irrational antisemitism elsewhere in the world—is helping us understand that what makes our enemies hate us is also what unites us and what has made us Jewish for 3500 years.

Watch this video where you can see the mother reuniting with her son (min. 0.33) and then being interviewed. Her words are very spiritual, intelligent, and emotional. ירבו כמותם בישראל (May there be more like them in Israel). Video Link