These [our Tehillim] are not just recited in solidarity, but rather as a war effort

How You Can Fight [Outlook / Issue 989]

Although I consider myself a professional writer (but clearly not of the caliber of Reb Yonoson Rosenblum!) I have to say I thoroughly appreciated his excellent article. I, too, earned money through my writing, but not merely for myself: Over the years I raised millions of dollars in funding for different projects for mosdos across the world, baruch Hashem, and I still take care of a few special clients today.

I am particularly proud of the collection of letters I wrote to various agencies on behalf of Jews facing criminal charges, including on behalf of Reb Sholom Mordechai Rubashkin. I called them my “get out of jail free” cards. I wrote to judges, the FBI, prosecutors and defense attorneys, and often they made an impact.

One case I remember was that of a respected businessman facing years in jail after being convicted for bank fraud. Since I actually knew this man, it was easier to pen an impassioned plea to the sentencing judge, and I later found out my letter was read aloud in court. The man received a suspended sentence.

The point of my letter here is clear: As I used to tell my students in my ELA classes, if you can write your name or create a shopping list, you are a writer. And today, more than ever, we need writers to bombard universities, elected officials, corporations and media outlets with letters demanding they put an end to anti-Semitism in their hallowed halls of “education,” that they remove employees who blatantly support terrorism, and that they recant lies and biased reporting of the war in Israel.

Israel’s PR has never been very good, and under the present circumstances, it is abysmal. Not all of us can fight, but as Edward Bulwer-Lytton, the English playwright and novelist, famously wrote, “The pen is mightier than the sword.” That is true in my case, and I’m sure in the case of most of us.

Anyone capable of reading these pages is capable of following the sample letters that are often provided to help people get their point across. I implore your readers to join a pressure group where you will find some well-known and some more obscure places where you can fight anti-Semitic and anti-Israel propaganda... by just signing your name! To do so, please contact me through Mishpacha.

Hindy Lewis

Ramat Beit Shemesh

The True Control Rooms [Voice in the Crowd / Issue 986]

I got a lot of strength from reading Rabbi Besser’s article. Another well written piece; spot-on as always. It is beautiful to see that there is a true understanding of where the Jewish nations’ strength actually comes from.

The mishnah in Berachos tells us the that we are obligated to make a brachah upon seeing the places where miracles occurred to our forefathers. One of the locations that the Gemara cites is the rock that Moshe Rabbeinu sat on during the war with Amalek.

The obvious question is: If we are being intellectually honest and removing all emotion, we’d all agree that the miracles actually occurred on the battlefield. Why, then, do we recite the brachah on the rock that Moshe sat on?

The answer is found in the holy words of the Maharsha. He explains that Moshe Rabbeinu sat on the rock and davened for the success of Klal Yisrael in the war. The outcome on the battlefield was a direct result of those tefillos. Therefore, the Gemara is teaching us that the location of the miracle’s occurrence was actually at the place of tefillah.

When a commander looks at his soldiers, the first ones to get weeded out are the soldiers who don’t believe that victory is attainable. We must truly believe in the power of our tefillos; we must truly believe in the chapters of Tehillim that every shul in Klal Yisrael says. These are not just recited in solidarity, but rather as a war effort.

Yes, we need the chayalim, and we beg Hashem to protect them. They are moser nefesh every second. In the war with Amalek, we needed the soldiers as well. But we must never forget where the outcome is determined, and that is in the control rooms of Klal Yisrael — our shuls and batei medrash.

Mordechai from Toronto

Traced to the Beis Medrash [Voice in the Crowd / Issue 986]

I am writing in response to an Inbox letter that was published in Issue 987 commenting on Sruli Besser’s article. The writer described the message of the article as “tone deaf,” to quote her words: “At a time when bochurim and kollel yungeleit of the same age are physically being moser nefesh… hugging their parents goodbye… how can you [Sruli Besser] beseech the klal to actively note and aid those who are shteiging in warm buildings with electricity and hot meals and the ability to call their parents at night? There is a time and place to draw a parallel between the critical mission on the ground versus the one in our batei medrash. Now is not yet that time.”

Chashivut haTorah does not hinge upon current events. When everything is calm and peaceful, it is easy to support Torah. But now when there is a war and soldiers are getting called up, we cannot feel irreverence toward the bnei Torah who are not on the physical battlefield, who have heating and meals and family.

Let us not be deluded — HaKadosh Baruch Hu doesn’t need our dollars in order to provide for His children. Avinu ShebaShamayim will provide for His bnei Torah with or without our contributions. Tzedakah is not only about the receiver. It’s also about the giver. Do we want to have a part in ensuring the continuation of Torah, the Torah that is the DNA of every fiber of our nation? Or would we rather sit this one out? No one will be affected by our choice aside from us; Hashem will make sure our bochurim and kollel yungeleit have everything they need.

The message of that Inbox letter, to me, was a painful devaluation of our Torah. It gives the impression that Torah is a worthwhile pursuit only so long as there is not something more worthwhile to engage in.

I’ll make another observation. Right now we have the camp of soldiers, and we have the camp of Torah learners. Let’s envision a scenario where during this war, we could only fight with one of those camps. Either we send out all our bnei yeshivah together with ground soldiers and all Torah learning comes to an end, or all our soldiers hand in the keys to their tanks and join the ranks of the bochurim in the batei medrash. Which would be the appropriate choice to make?

For any Jew that is truly machshiv Torah, there should be no hesitation here. If we collectively abandon the Torah, it is a death sentence upon our nation. Yet if we all cling to Hashem and understand that our success lies in our attachment to Him, our submission to His will, our closeness to one another as brothers and sisters, then there is no need for us to flaunt our prowess in warfare to the world!

Every one of our accomplishments in this war can all be traced with a very straight line back to the batei medrash. Baruch Hashem we are seeing that so many of our soldiers understand this, and are imploring fellow Jews to increase Torah and tefillah to bring about success on the battlefield.

A final point. My family has the zechut to have a close connection with a yeshivah in Monsey where many Israeli baalei teshuvah come to learn, most of them having previously served in the IDF, including past operations within the Gaza Strip. They learn with an incredible fire and intensity that is beautiful to behold. There is not one of them who feels like their Torah learning is inferior to their past roles as successful IDF combat soldiers; if anything, it is now more significant in light of the war. So don’t just take it from me. Take it from those who have fought successfully on both camps.

So if one feels that taking care of and supporting our bnei yeshivah during this most critical time is unfitting and inappropriate, I struggle to think of a time when they would be worthy of our nations’ support. For those that are machshiv Torah, this is in fact the time to double down on the support for our lomdei Torah. When the Geulah comes bimheirah b’yameinu and everything will be clear, I want to be able to stand proudly by our bnei Torah and know that I never doubted them for a second.

Tehila Dahan, New York

Note: In the “Outlook” column in Issue 988, the photo should have been credited to Stan Weiss. We apologize for the omission.

(Originally featured in Mishpacha, Issue 990)