I composed this article while in transit on my return from a brief visit to Israel.
My wife is Israeli, and I personally made Aliyah at the age of 21. Presently, I have two children living there: my son Yehuda (20), who is serving in an infantry unit, and my daughter Hadassah (18), who has just started Year 12.
When the harrowing events of Simchat Torah unfolded, my wife and I decided that it was imperative for me to go.
Our motivations were threefold: to hug my son before his deployment to the front lines, to provide emotional support to my daughter as she navigates between school, family, and bomb shelters, and lastly, out of a sense of moral obligation.
During the 20th century, two contrasting cultural and societal paradigms took shape worldwide. On one hand, the communist model emerged, advocating for the advancement of society as a whole as its primary objective. In this framework, individual self-worth was largely determined by one’s contribution to the collective. Personal liberties, the pursuit of happiness, and self-fulfilment held little significance. People were expected to view themselves as integral parts of a greater whole and be appreciative of their membership in such a society.
Conversely, on the other side of the globe, a different model arose, emphasising the individual and their pursuit of success as an ultimate goal. Life, both in materialistic and broader happiness-related aspects, was to be pursued with fervour. Unfortunately, this approach left a void in broader societal engagement, a void we still grapple with today as communal institutions struggle to attract younger members.
The noted Catholic Paul Johnson, author of The History of the Jews, once marvelled at Judaism’s ability to strike a delicate balance between the individual and the collective. Judaism excelled in promoting both strong individuals and strong communities, a feat that few could claim.
As a Jew in Australia, I needed to feel part of that collective, which is why I went.
At present, sleep is a rare commodity, yet I take immense pride in the fact that my children are there, doing their part along with the rest of the country.
But we too have a responsibility to contribute. The Talmud teaches us that during a time of distress (עת צרה), we should not continue with our regular daily routines. We are called upon to make sacrifices here, just as our fellow citizens in Israel are making sacrifices there.
Last week, I had the opportunity to deliver some basic necessities to families who had been evacuated from Sderot, one of the hardest-hit cities. The community in North Tel Aviv had erected about 20 sukkot in the function hall of their synagogue, each serving as a temporary dwelling for the evacuees, most of whom had fled with only the clothes on their backs.
If you have plans to dine out tonight, consider dining in and donating the funds to those affected families. If an overseas trip is on your agenda, think about trimming expenses and directing some of those resources to the victims of terror. And if you find yourself at home on a Saturday, perhaps consider attending synagogue to pray for the safety of our soldiers. It is the least we can do.
As parents, it is our responsibility to set an example for our children, demonstrating that there are times when we focus on individual responsibilities, but there are also moments like these when we must prioritise the welfare of our community.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Rabbi Gad Krebs is the College Rabbi at Moriah College in Queens Park, NSW.