The only power a suicide bomber or terrorist has over us is a result of our granting them significance

“You have been shown, in order to know that Hashem, He is the Elokim; there is none else besides Him.” (Hakafos Simchas Torah)

The pasuk in Tehillim (33:17) says: “A horse is a false hope for salvation.” The power of horses and armies are only an illusion as victory comes only from the word of Hashem. 

The Navi Hoshea (14:4) tells us: “Ashur will not save us; we will not ride on horses.”

It doesn’t matter whether we refer to Ashur as America, and the horses as missiles or tanks. No matter what name each generation gives them, they will not be where our salvation comes from. 

It’s only with complete understanding of “Ein Od Milvado — there is none besides Him,” that causes all other forces in the world to lose their power, and then we will emerge victorious.  (Rav Avigdor Nebenzahl)

As I write this, it’s still before Simchas Torah and the future is unknown. Each time I sit down to put thoughts to words, I become overwhelmed with emotion. How can I write about this past Simchas Torah? How can I anticipate this coming Simchas Torah? And how painful is it that among everything we lost this past year, our enemies have also stolen our Simchas Torah?

The only power a suicide bomber or terrorist has over us is a result of our granting them significance. When we view them as insignificant, they can have no effect on us. Yirmiyahu Hanavi (13:21) says:  “What will you say when He punishes you? You yourself have trained them as rulers over you.”

Yirmiyahu’s pointing out that we can have no complaints against Hashem when He brings Bavel to rule over Bnei Yisrael and ultimately exile them. Because they themselves were guilty of granting them significance as rulers, leading to their success.  As the Gemara (Sanhedrin 104a) tells us, Chizkiyahu gave great honor to the Babylonian emissaries sent to him by the king of Bavel, displaying all his treasures to them. Had he not shown such significance to Bavel, they wouldn’t have had the power of dominion over us.

This concept goes back to the very first time too much honor was given to our enemy, when  Yaakov sends a message to Eisav (Rome), saying, “My master Eisav, from your servant Yaakov.” (Bereishis 32:5) These superfluous words of submission ultimately led to the Jewish people being enslaved by the Romans. Had the Romans been treated as insignificant, they wouldn’t have succeeded in lording over us.

We often pose the question: How can it be a mitzvah, a commandment, to be happy? Happiness is an emotion, and emotions don’t listen to commands. If there’s something to be happy about, then I’ll feel happy, no?

Yet among the many answers to this question lies the undeniable idea that yes, Hashem can command us to be happy, and we need to fulfill His commands.

Chazal relate that Rebbi viewed the Romans as “less than flies.”  The same may be said of all terrorists — they’re less than flies — for there’s none besides Him. When we truly understand this, we’ll will merit the ultimate revelation of “Ein Od Milvado” — the Kingdom of Heaven will be revealed all over the universe, speedily in our day, Amen.

This Simchas Torah, by definition of its name, I must be happy and rejoice in the Torah. I must focus on the joy in watching little boys with their pekelach shyly kiss the velvet Torah coverings. Of men using all their strength to dance with such fervor and kedushah. And of women with eyes glued to their family, watching as the circle rounds once more.

These are the normal images of Simchas Torah, and I need to recapture them in my heart. Yet how do I override that fear, that trauma of sirens piercing the songs, and the panic of rumors that circulated faster than the dancing?

The answer lies in the pasuk, “There is none besides Him.” Only by forcefully reducing our enemies to nothing, to no one, can I make room in my heart for Hashem’s presence. There is no space for both.

I shove all other thoughts aside, and focus on Him: It’s all from Him, and only Him. The good and what appears bad. Because Hashem is asking for my happiness.

Our enemies may have stolen last year’s Simchas Torah. But it’s up to us to make sure they can’t have this one as well.

(Originally featured in Family First, Issue 915)