How do my worried feelings help the war effort?

Here we are, Chanukah.

Sources say that the Yamim Noraim really, really extend to Zos Chanukah, when time will have shown if our commitments were genuine. Current events have many feeling that we’ve never left that holy season. “If an army besieges me, my heart won’t fear; should war arise, of this I am sure. One thing I ask of Hashem, this I seek: to live in the house of Hashem all the days of my life” (Tehillim 27:4, said from Elul through Hoshana Rabbah).

A lichtige and miraculous Chanukah to one and all.

Send My Veggies to Kiryat Shmona

I don’t get how it helps Israel if I tone down a Chanukah party, or feel worried or broken. Eating string beans doesn’t feed people in India, and coffee without sugar, like some of my friends are doing out of solidarity, isn’t putting anyone’s life back together.

There are different responses to crises. Some people shut down because war, captured Jews, and worldwide threats, are too enormous to face. Forcing yourself to feel heartache beyond your emotional capacity can cause you to fall apart and be unable to function.

But there’s also the possibility that you need to deepen your outlook or stretch yourself further. Gaza seems far away, life’s busy, and pain is painful, but learning to carry another’s burden is important.

In 1948, in Lakewood, Rav Aharon Kotler taught that separating oneself from the distress of others, especially the broader distress of a tzibbur, is a chillul Hashem. That’s both for acting as if life is fine, and even just feeling that way. “This is applicable to each of us when those who live in Eretz Yisrael are in jeopardy, when our enemies plot to destroy us like Haman Harasha in his time, and when this is relevant to the survival of the Jewish people everywhere…” (Mishnas Rabbi Aharon 4:76-81).

Empathy isn’t string beans. Here’s how it works:

Oh, Brother.

Rav Chatzkel Levenstein wrote during the Yom Kippur war, “Jews cast about in open fields, in battle conditions, with constant fear of death before their eyes, while their families, wives, children, parents, suffer greatly. If we feel the connection of a Jew to his brother, [feel] his suffering as authentically as we can, we too will feel the anguish of a brother in war…” No one with family in the army is asking, “Why worry?” They just do. Guess what? You have family in the army. And displaced. And captured.

Do Something.

Empathy breeds action. It doesn’t have to be on a mass scale or heroic.

Devory Paley, mother of Ushi and Yaakov killed in a terror attack, marvels how at any point there were 200 strangers sitting at the shivah. A woman from near the Egyptian border got up at four in the morning to visit. A man traveled three hours from the north to tell her, “I came to cry.” And letters! Boxes and boxes of them, enough to fill an entire room in the Paley house.

A 19-year-old boy in a New York yeshivah heard that a childhood friend fell in battle and  arranged for the yeshivah to learn Mishnayos for him.

Another young bochur found the disused Gemara of a boy who had lost his way and was killed at the festival in Re’im. He learned from it l’illui nishmaso, and contacted the family, whom he didn’t know, to tell them. He later heard how much this meant to them.

Kavanah.

How are you going to storm the Heavens if you block your thoughts and heart? In a letter he wrote during the Yom Kippur War, Rav Chaim Shmuelevitz explains that those like himself and his students, learning Torah with concentration far from the line of fire, must imagine the detailed reality of war from where they are, so they can daven with all of their might, “and G-d in His mercy should be kind to them and to us.”

Openhearted.

The coffee trend might be inspired by Rebbetzin Chana Perel Kotler, who drank her coffee bitter during World War II. She also didn’t serve fleishigs. Likewise, when Rav Steinman’s neighbor was in miluim, Rav Aharon Leib slept on a bench. Having a warm Jewish heart is an accomplishment in itself.

Celebration.

Remember Little Red Hen? No one helped bake, but everyone was happy to eat. Doesn’t work that way. “When the Jewish nation suffers and someone separates himself, the two angels that accompany each Jew put their hands on his head and say, ‘This person separated himself from the community, he won’t be part of the consolation of the community.’ A person can’t say: ‘I’m going home to eat and drink in peace.’ About that, Hashem says, ‘Such wrongdoing is unforgivable…’” (Taanis 11a)

It helps.

When you visit the sick, you remove part of their sickness (Bava Metzia 30b). Rav Yerucham Levovitz explains that by feeling their plight, you pull some of their difficulty on to yourself. The power of Jewish unity has phenomenal Heavenly repercussions. Aptly called “nosei b’ol — lifting the burden,” your discomfort lightens his.

Holy Water

A guy from my shul was pushed and had anti-Jewish expletives yelled at him. It’s far from the only incident. Anti-Semitism has us jittery. My neighbor got hold of water drawn from the Jordan River on the tenth of Nissan — that’s the date that the Jewish people crossed into Eretz Yisrael — and she shared some to put in our house for safety. Sounds sketchy to me.

MY,we’re getting creative.

Many segulos and customs are complicated to understand due to their depth and loftiness. This one isn’t hallowed in tradition. On the contrary, it poses an issue of lo sinachshu, the mitzvah against superstition.

In precarious times, people search for meaning. When that has us tightening up on Yiddishkeit, good. When good intentions go off beat, it’s concerning, and can distract us from what we’re supposed to be doing.

If you’re not sure what’s legit, ask. But one thing’s for sure — you’ll never lose by taking the road more traveled.

You don’t need fancy. “What can one do to be spared from the pangs of Mashiach? He should be busy with Torah and acts of kindness” (Sanhedrin 98b). “Whoever keeps Shabbos is forgiven of his transgressions” (Shabbos 118b). “One who forgives is forgiven from Heaven” (Rosh Hashanah 17a).  A wise woman pointed out that between kabbalos, our open siddurim, and the outpouring of money and resources, we’ve got ourselves “repentance, prayer, and charity,” which can “remove the evil decree.”

Rav Dov Landau was asked by the head of a large girls’ high school how to guide students in these turbulent times. Sorry to bore you, but he said they should focus on strengthening tzniyus and middos tovos. No shocking headlines here, folks. Tried and true, tried and true.

You’ve got this. Pour some tap water, plain old. Say a clear brachah, and concentrate on “shehakol nihiyeh bidvaro — everything happens through His word.” Your no-frills water will be a better advocate than the whole Jordan and Kinneret combined.

Guess Who’s Coming

Everyone else seems to know for a fact that Mashiach is coming. He didn’t come during the Spanish Inquisition, the Chmielnicki massacres, the Kishinev pogrom or Covid. Why should I believe this is different?

Years ago, a bomb exploded close to where I stood on Yaffo Street. A cacophony of voices started shrieking: “Mashiach!!!! Mashiach!!!!” I craned for sight of a white donkey. Turns out that a nut-stand owned by a fellow named Mashiach, precursor to the well-known Jerusalem pitzuchim chain, had been blown to bits, and bystanders feared the worst for the kiosk owner — who was at Minchah.

We keep doing this, right?

We’re like relatives at a loved one’s bedside, waiting for the doctor. Every footstep they hear has them running to the door despite the times they jumped up for nothing. But they’re confident he’s coming, and they’re on edge (Michtav Me’Eliyahu 3: 74).

We’re hearing footsteps. Yishmael’s name, given millennia ago, means, “G-d will hear,” and foretells that at the end of time, G-d will hear our desperate entreaties due to him (Pirkei D’Rabi Eliezer 32). Wide upheaval is foreseen when Yishmael will insist on retaining a portion in the Land of Israel (Zohar II 32:1). Eisav married Yishmael’s daughter in a failed plot to kill Yaakov. The Vilna Gaon explains that this will replay itself when Western countries join with the descendents of Yishmael to get at Yisrael. When these two antagonistic forces ally, exile is winding down (Iggeres Teiman). This is hinted to in Maoz Tzur, where we ask Hashem to push away the plans of the Red One, Eisav, hiding in the shadow of Tzalmon, which can be a reference to Yishmael, and end out galus. Yishmael will be manipulated by Western countries to get at Israel (Daniel 7:7-8).

Try this on for size: “Young people will stand up against older people, truth will go into hiding, and those living near the border will wander without a place to settle” (Sotah 49b). “Toward the end of exile, out of adversity, many Jews will come to doubt G-d, move away from Torah, and eventually leave their religion… But a few will remain loyal and not become confused” (Iggeres Teiman). There are divergent opinions about whether Mashiach will usher in a natural or supernatural time period (Berachos 34b). A world without sickness, with long life spans, parnassah without sweat, and painless births, may sound miraculous, but with our current automations and modern medicine, also rings increasingly realistic, satisfying both approaches.

Rest assured that Mashiach is most definitely coming. Every stop along our collective way, including October 7, 2023, brings him closer. Pinning him down to a date or even era, however, is both irrelevant and dangerous.

Irrelevant, because when Mashiach will appear doesn’t change your life right now. If he’s around the bend, then let’s be the best we can be, and if he’s not, let’s be the best we can be.

And dangerous, because messianic hopes historically spawn false messiahs and kooky spirituality. Worst is the disillusion following these spikes, reflected in your question, which is much like an expectant woman running in with false labor and deciding that maybe there’s no baby after all.

When Rabbi Rubashkin was freed “from a place called prison,” the least surprised was his wife, Leah, who always had his hat, white shirt, and kapote ready in her trunk. She pointed out that we similarly should be poised to greet Mashiach, and not be surprised when he comes.

Let’s hang in there. Being sure that he can and will come is different from deciding when.

What Do You Do Again?

We’re at war. Can’t chareidim take leave from yeshivah a bit? If they haven’t learned to fight, they can contribute in some other way, like picking produce going bad in the south, or delivering supplies.

The easy answer is to highlight how many chareidim are actually enlisted, or manning ambulances, staffing chaplaincies, volunteering, and donating astronomical funds. There’s ZAKA, whose noble work is indescribable. But that doesn’t address the question accurately.

This is not about chareidim, but about those learning Torah, and that distinction is key.

Fact is, Klal Yisrael stands behind our heroic soldiers with tefillos, tears, and love, and most importantly, with Torah learning. This isn’t demagoguery or lip service, G-d forbid. A yeshivah bochur is well aware that time in the beis medrash means victory on the front. Every shmuess addresses this. In some yeshivos, bochurim take specific names of soldiers to have in mind. Pictures of batei medrash show occupied benches through the night.  A boy on my street asked his father, “My mashgiach told us that because we’re responsible for the safety of the army, we should squeeze in yet another few minutes for an additional seder, but I’m maxed out. What can I do?” This isn’t uncommon.

Someone not learning full-time can find other tangible ways to help the war effort, which is why the Karliner Rebbe instructed chassidim to help with the harvest in the south. He didn’t send boys from yeshivah, though, as where they are is vital.

It’s difficult when some of our sons are in mortal peril while others are not. But not every soldier is in a battle zone. There are drone operators and intelligence experts giving cover to the ground troops from behind computers. The merit of Torah guards even more. It would be counterproductive to send all of them in to combat in Gazan streets so that everyone can be in equal danger.

Relying on any faulty defense mechanisms — and surely the idea of military success detached from Torah — is frightening.

An Israeli man was confronted by an irate neighbor: “Why aren’t you in miluim (reserve duty)?”  “I sure am,” he replied, referring to his base in the beis.

Tough Love

I think about grieving families, traumatized communities, craziness on campus, and then I’m unsure what to think at Ahavah Rabbah and wherever there’s mention of Hashem’s love. I don’t doubt it, but I’d appreciate some perspective.

Imagine parents whose impulsive kid runs away yet again. They instruct friends not to shelter him so he’ll eventually come home. Sure enough, hungry, muddy, and limping, our protagonist returns to his loving parents. When we’re persecuted and unpopular, Someone is waiting for us. The month of Av, when we commemorate terrible events, means “Father” in Hebrew.

We chose to be chosen and agreed to the terms (Shemos 24:6-8; 34:10; Devarim 28-29; Yehoshua 24). “Only you,” says G-d, “have I loved and picked out from all the families of the earth. Therefore, I will exact retribution for everything you’ve done wrong” (Amos 3:2, mefarshim).  We’re compared to olives because we shine brightest when we’re crushed (Menachos 52b).

“The trouble and suffering I bring on Israel doesn’t cause them to leave Me; it brings them continuity in This World and forever… Not only don’t they reject Me, they call themselves wrong and call Me right, saying, ‘We… defied You and rebelled, veered from Your mitzvos… and it wasn’t worth it for us, and You were correct in everything that was brought upon us…’ ” (Pesikta Rabasi 35).

None of this is fun; not hardship, nor the resulting revamp. We’re fortunate, though, because we know that there’s a plan. It’s heartbreaking when well-meaning Jews are unmoored by today’s tragedies, long-held assumptions challenged beyond repair, with no clue how to proceed.

On the other hand, it was with astounding casualness that my grandfather would mention minyanim in Holocaust-era camps. To him and his fellow daveners, there was no dissonance between Skarżysko-Kamienna or Buchenwald, and Minchah. My grandmother, survivor of the Warsaw Ghetto uprising, Majdanek, and Auschwitz, would often tell us, “We take what we’re given, and say thank you!” The ability to feel Hashem’s love, despite experiencing His painful displeasure, is an art form that we knew about but haven’t needed to master on a national level until recently. We hope not to need that know-how in the future.

Spiritual Charley Horse

I’m going to shiurim and I’m involved with chesed like never before. Am I expected to continue when the war’s over? And if I don’t, is this fake?

During Covid we promised never to gossip if we were let back within dalet amos of each other. If you still don’t hock, that’s stupendous. Buuuuut, you may notice a dip since May 2020. We thought life would be different then, and we think life will be different after this.

Why don’t we stay sharp, post-crisis, and can it be fixed or prevented?

Picking the Car Off the Kid

Unusual times induce unusual strengths. You might teeter-totter as the adrenaline subsides but you’ve seen what you’re capable of, and now you have vision. Patiently dig in for the feasible long-term process to get you back there.

Whadja Call Me?

Pharaoh set brick quotas based on the first day of patriotic and voluntary work. Starving slaves couldn’t maintain that. Sometimes we “Pharaoh” ourselves with illogical expectations based on our best output ever. We run slower with weights, but it doesn’t mean we’ve slacked. Muddling through less-inspired circumstances can burn as much metaphysical energy.

Zoom Out

Could be we’re staying with it, but measuring our stats on a bad day. There are fluctuations, but if we graph ourselves over time, we’ll see a stable line, or even a positive slope. Retain a broad view.

Human Limitations

Your personal trainer can sweet-talk you into doing five sit-ups, but not hundreds. You get tired. You ask if this is sustainable postwar. Is it sustainable during the war? Or do you have what Rabbi Efraim Stauber calls “inspiration fatigue”? Aim for smaller, sustainable steps.

You Can Do It, You Can Do It

You’ve gone higher than you thought you could, discovered new strengths, and that’s superb. You’ll want to put measures in place to help brace yourself, like a peer support group, or weekly shiur, but you can do this!

Burst Bubble

Concerns about an epidemic seemed so last century, as did prayers referencing sword and captivity. We didn’t chap how precarious life is, how kind G-d is and has been. That knowledge won’t easily fall out of our heads, and the subsequent growth may be here to stay.

Let’s be proactive. Shoot a mental screenshot for reference, or record a journal as a message to self, so that this, too, shall not pass. Who do you want to be when this is over? That question can’t be answered by anyone but you.

Mrs. Batya Weinberg has been involved in numerous aspects of Jewish education for over 30 years. She’s a senior lecturer in many seminaries and a noted student advisor.

(Originally featured in Family First, Issue 871)