The Torah teaches us not to be afraid
Once again, it’s the Torah for the win.
Earlier this summer, Israel’s and America’s attacks on Iran commanded scores of well-deserving headlines analyzing the military feats and geopolitical implications. More recently, Jews around the world were gut-punched with horrifying images of our starving brothers held hostage under Gaza and an increasingly loud chorus of antisemitic threats against our people. Flying under the radar has been the not coincidental confluence of Torah portions read during these fateful weeks — Beha’alotcha, Shelach, and Devarim. Each parasha contains prescient lessons and timeless guidance regarding these events…if we know where to look.
When Israel attacked Iran, the Torah portion was Beha’alotcha, which famously contains the passage, uttered by Moses: Rise, O Lord, and may your enemies flee and be scattered. This verse is also well known to synagogue goers because we sing it to a familiar tune whenever we remove the Torah out of the ark. But how often do we stop and think about what we are saying? Israel’s decision to target the head of the snake has breathed new life into this verse.
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Beha’alotcha’s imagery of fleeing enemies is recited as the Mishkan (the Ark of the Covenant) leads the Israelites through the wilderness, symbolizing Hashem’s presence during their travels. The parasha also references the use of trumpets blasting to inspire Jewish warriors to victory as they head into battle: “While in your land, if you go to war against an enemy that oppresses you, you should blow a long blast with the trumpets so as to be remembered before God, your God, and you will be saved from your enemies.”
The following week’s Torah portion, Shelach, was read contemporaneously with America’s bunker-busting support of the Jewish state. That parasha includes the famous episode of the 12 spies whom Moses dispatched into the land of Canaan to scout it out for the Israelites (b’nei Yisrael). Ten of the spies returned with their tails between their legs, anxiously reporting that the land is unconquerable and worried that the task at hand is insurmountable. By contrast, Yehoshua bin Nun (aka Joshua) and Calev ben-Yephuneh (aka Caleb) provided a more hopeful (even brash) analysis, asserting that the people of Israel can, indeed, fulfill the divine promise of building a Jewish state.
There is more to these Torah portions than battle cries rallying the Israelites to war, including symbolism of a war of ideas between Hashem’s teachings and the wider world. Our sages have spilled much sacred ink unpacking these concepts, including the metaphor of the Ark of the Covenant as a pseudo-battering ram against false gods. Ultimately, the Torah is unambiguous in its recognition that there is a time for war, and during such time, the Jewish people should stand steadfast in the face of our enemies, knowing that Hashem will be by our side. Our Israeli brothers and sisters have shown us the way, making clear that being a light onto nations sometimes takes the form of a lightning bolt striking fear into the hearts of our enemies.
But how will American Jews respond to this moment?
Despite the recent turmoil across college campuses and beyond, American Jews continue to live in a relatively golden age of diaspora Jewry. In cities across the United States, Jews can attend Jewish day schools, summer camps, and synagogues. Kosher food has never been more readily accessible. Perhaps most importantly, unlike our grandparents (let alone generations of ancestors), we have grown up in an era highlighted by an independent State of Israel. Today, we can book a flight in a few minutes using our smart phones and visit the Promised Land. Will we take these relative luxuries for granted or are we squeezing every drop out of a historically unique opportunity?
American Jews should act as though we have been shot out of Hashem’s cannons to serve our people with divine purpose, each according to our respective ability and however we are best suited. For some, that means making aliyah and standing on Israel’s front lines in defense of our people. For others, it means supporting the Jewish State and American Jewish communal organizations financially. There is no one path, but there is a shared goal and singular priority — to stand together as we once did at Mount Sinai, unified and awaiting the divine call.
When Moshe passed the torch to his successor, Joshua, he instructed Joshua to be strong and brave (chazak v’amatz). Even though Moses is best known as Moshe Rabbeinu (Moses our Teacher), during this critical time of transition, he focused on Joshua’s courage. Joshua had bucked the trend and pushed back against a defeatist narrative that Jews could not be the masters of their own destiny. He had led by example by declaring that by fighting together, we could create a homeland for our people, and by extension, create an ideal vehicle for ushering the Torah’s teachings into the world.
This past week, amidst harrowing Holocaust-esque images of starving Jewish hostages, the Torah portion was Devarim. Moses prepares the Israelites for their next phase, crossing the Jordan River and entering the Promised Land. But, again, the old generation (perhaps convinced by the 10 recalcitrant spies) refuses to proceed, paralyzed by fear and complaints. In response, Hashem vows that, save for Caleb and Joshua, none of the old generation will be afforded the honor of entering Israel. Joshua was “imbue[d] with strength” to lead the people on the battlefield as Moshe’s successor. Tellingly, Caleb is lauded for having “remained loyal” to Hashem through his unwavering faith that the Israelites would, indeed, be able to fulfill their divine destiny — pleading with the people to cling to optimism rather than submit to fears about the future of the Jewish people.
Each of us has a choice — whether to embody the 10 spies and be paralyzed with fear or to embrace our inner Joshua and Caleb and attack the future with the fervent belief that we are strongest when we live purposefully Jewish lives, unified by the common cause of protecting our people and supporting Israel.
This will not be easy. Nonetheless, and as we recently observed on Tisha B’Av, throughout history our people have faced much worse circumstances, without our own army and without our own state. We have the tools for our success at our disposal, and the conditions are ripe for our people to thrive. The question is whether we will continue to lean into our Judaism without hesitation — to be unambiguously pro-Israel, free of mealy-mouthed overthinking and concerns about our fair-weathered “allies” in America. I choose muscular Judaism.
Beha’alotcha, Shelach, and Devarim teach us that during these tenuous times, we should not fall prey to pessimism, fear our enemies, or apologize for living Jewishly. Instead, let us channel our inner Joshua and Caleb to confidently set out on a bold journey to double down on our birthright, aid Israel during its time of need, and prioritize the Jewish community at home. Through such a commitment, we will breathe new life into the Torah’s promise — chanted each time we remove the Torah from our sacred arks — that our enemies will scatter before our eyes.
Ari M. Berman lives in West Caldwell and is a member of Congregation Agudath Israel in Caldwell. He is an attorney.
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