Holocaust Survivor Edith Eger said: “In the end, it’s not what happens to us that matters most – it’s what we choose to do with it.” Respond to this statement in the current context of the Jewish world.
Leielle Bocman
Not so long ago, I found myself in a difficult position. Standing in front of my mirror. Blazer on, ready to go on an excursion to the university of Sydney. The only thing that was stopping me was a little blue and white pin, this one right here. It was then that I turned to my sister for guidance. She looked me dead in the eyes and said “You wear that pin, you wear it for all those that can’t.”
In the aftermath of suffering and despair after one of the darkest times in human history, Holocaust survivor Edith Eger said “In the end, it is not what happens to us that matters most, it’s what we choose to do with it.” These words in our current context are not just a mantra but a guiding principle. Even after the brutal scrutiny Israel is facing, I have decided what I am going to do with it. We are all confronted with a choice, to succumb to fear and despair or to rise above it and stand with our values… and so I stand here today as a proud Jew but an even prouder Israeli.
From the tragedy of October 7th, I have witnessed both the worst and the best of humanity.
I remember hearing about the very first rally, a rally to sing for peace and the return of our hostages. Though once again, the fear grabbed ahold of me, and yet I found myself walking out the door and into the venue of Dover Heights. I had never felt so much love and belonging had I felt in that rally. Around 10,000 people had come to show their support. Like Edith had said, it is not what happens to us that matters most, it is what we choose to do with it and we chose love and support instead of violence and anger. But I’m afraid to say Edith was not the first to tell us that things are going to be tough nor will she be the last.
Written thousands of years ago the Torah demands of us to never lose our humanity. In the book of Devarim Moses says God has put before you life and death, blessing and curse.
Choose life.
And so…throughout history, through all the exiles, prosecution, challenges, we, the Jews have always chosen life and love. Just like Eden Golan who represented Israel in this year’s Eurovision sings “We shall pass but love will never die.” The Talmud teaches us of the obligation we have to each other in Judaism. Kol Yisrael Arevim Zeh Bazeh that All Jews are responsible for one another. And so each life taken, each hostage, we are like limbs of a single body. When one limb is hurting, our entire body hurts. The body in its entirety is incomplete. We are all interconnected, feeling for our people not just out of sympathy but out of necessity and love. That is what makes us so unbreakable, choosing one another and holding on to each other even in the most difficult of times.
And so… In the current context of the Jewish world, Edith Eger’s words serve as a rallying cry for action and hope. They remind us that our past does not define us, it guides us. It is okay to be scared in our current context but it is our actions that matter most. In the end, we have created what some thought impossible. A country that will fight not out of desire but necessity for peace, and so we are fighting back and that is what we will continue to do, that is what we choose to do if we must until the day comes where myself, my children, my grandchildren and my great grandchildren will never again question if they should take off their Judaism. That is the future we CHOOSE to create, one of life, solidarity and unwavering love.
Milla Wolman
When we find ourselves unable to change a situation, we are compelled to change ourselves. In times of hardship, the Jewish people have habitually chosen to persevere.
I was once asked: ‘does being disabled weaken my belief in Hashem’s miracles….’
This reflects a choice.
I could believe that this was a curse that was bestowed upon me. But instead I replied: I am all that I am BECAUSE of His miracles. Proverbs teaches us shiva yipol tzaddik v’kam- “For a righteous man falls seven times but still gets up” Living with cerebral palsy, I have embraced this motto as the ultimate persistence of spirit.
This choice was a microcosm of the choice of the Jewish nation to maintain the strength and sacredness of our traditions following our slavery in Ancient Egypt, expulsion from Spain in 1492, repeated exile from various nations, and the tragedy of the holocaust which left a lasting imprint. Yet not once in history has there been an absence of Jewish people in the land of Israel. Our story is One that has continued over centuries and is intertwined with our DNA. Our nation, more than any other, is one born through adversity, not despite it. As a people we get back up again. This perseverance is not a gift, but a choice.
We remember this choice to embody perseverance every year at the Pesach seder when we say: V;hi sheamda “lavoteinu v;lanu”. “In every generation they try to destroy us, and Hashem saves us from their hands.”
“lavoteinu v;lanu,” Recent events are a stark reminder that “never again” can indeed happen again. On October 7th, Ruth Peretz, the same age as me, with the same disability, same passion for music, was murdered at the Nova festival. Although she was confined to a wheelchair, her neshama was free and spirited. Full of joy and light. I tell Ruth’s story because I am sure you are all familiar with it. Just as you are with the story of Noa Argamani, Hersh Goldberg-Polin and each and every one of the 250 hostages.
All these people were not given a choice. As a nation their stories are ingrained within us. We learn them and we share them and we feel them everyday. And that is our choice. It is now what we choose to do. Because their resilience is the core of our being.
“lavoteinu v;lanu,” – For our ancestors and for us we have experienced darkness, humiliation, pain and persecution for being Jewish.
So why is it that we rise? Rabbi Kushner said that: “The decency of a society is measured by how it cares for its least powerful members.” Right now we may feel as though we are those members. But, despite our vulnerability, our power must not be underestimated… On the face of it, I, alongside other individuals living with a disability, may seem like the least powerful members of our society.
But people like me have to make the choice, again and again, not to let our disabilities render us powerless. I cannot let my obstacles matter the most, I must choose to let my actions reveal who I am, and that is powerful. Similarly, as a Jewish nation we let our actions reveal our neshamot. We may not have the most dominant population – we merely represent 0.2% of the 8 billion people worldwide – but we never let our light fade.
Every Shabbat, every festival, and every mitzvah observed in itself is an act of defiance against those who sought to extinguish our light.
I once read “This is how to deal with a crisis. Wrestle with it, refusing to let it go until it blesses you,until you emerge stronger, better or wiser than you were before. To be a Jew is not to accept defeat. That is the meaning of faith and the definition of choice.
“lavoteinu v;lanu,” This year more than ever Jews are being intimidated, Young Jewish boys and girls are removing their Magen David necklaces and school badges. Why do I not tuck my necklace in or stop wearing my Orthotics in public?? Because Hashem instilled in me the power to choose… I CHOOSE to be ME!! I can’t hide my jewish identity anymore than I can hide my disability. Today, Jews are choosing to show perseverance in the face of relentless antisemitism. This tide of Jewish hatred has only united us. Some things are out of our control but our light chooses to persist in the midst of darkness.
AM YISRAEL CHAI !!!!!!!!!!!!!
Hillel Mordecai
Edith Eger’s statement today, can be distilled into the question:
How do we respond to evil? With mercy, or justice?
A video clip at the Holocaust Museum in Washington DC, has a concentration camp survivor recounting that at the moment of liberation, his friend stood up and started speaking softly, as if, someone was listening to him.
“Moishe, Moishe, what are you doing?”
“I’m praying.”
“ After everything we have been through? … What are you saying?”
“ I’m thanking God, for not making me, like them.”
The humility that Moishe displays in those few words is breathtaking. His affirmation of being in God’s presence is as beautiful as a green blade of grass emerging to the light of day, through the ashes of a burnt-out forest.
But Moishe sidesteps the question of mercy or justice. He simply affirms that “he,” is not, “like them.”
What makes us, like Moishe, the antithesis of barbarity?
It is our innate need to wrestle with mercy and justice, grounded in the virtues of our forefather, Avraham, who had the audacity, to argue with God.
When God’s anger is provoked by the depravity of S’dom and Amorah, Avraham intercedes on their behalf. Avraham demands mercy. He bargains God down to sparing them, even if only 10 good people can be found.
Avraham dares to chide God:
? הֲשֹׁפֵט֙ כׇּל־הָאָָ֔רֶץ לֹ֥אֹׁ יַעֲשֶֶׂ֖ה מִשְׁפָָּֽט
Shall not the Judge of all the earth deal justly?
(Genesis 18:25)
Our moral struggle with God’s justice is highlighted by the prophet Samuel telling King Saul that God commands him to destroy Amalek for their killing of the children of Israel and their hereditary hatred: … כֹֹּ֤ה אָמַר֙ יְהֹוָָ֣ה צְבָא֔וֹת פָקַַ֕דְתִּי אֵ֛ת אֲשֶׁר־עָשָָׂ֥ה עֲמָ לֵ֖ק לְיִּשְרָ אֵ֑ל
… הִּכִּיתָָ֜ה אֶׁת־עֲמָ לק … וְלָׂ֥אֹ תַחְמֵֹ֖ל עָלֵָ֑יו
Thus said the Lord of hosts: I remember what Amalek did to Israel …
Attack the Amalek … Show him no mercy … put to death men and women, children and infants, cattle and sheep, camels and donkeys.
(Samuel 1, 15:2-3)
The hostile Amalek was a matter of life and death to the nascent nation of Israel. God could not forget nor forgive. He demanded complete justice.
The British journalist Douglas Murray explained that when the Nazis ended their unnatural offences at the end of each day, they would drink to numb their conscience, losing the ability to tell right from wrong.
When the 3,000 Hamas terrorists, on October 7, exercised their unnatural offences against men, women and children, they did not turn to alcohol to numb their conscience. They inhumanely filmed their evil, and in pride, phoned their mothers in Gaza, who applauded and goaded them on to further terror.
One man’s whisper into God’s ear “for not having made me, like them,” is profound. But in contrast to this innocence, the bigger picture was tackled by civil society to exact justice through Nuremburg for the horrors of the Holocaust. This hard justice, needed to prevail. Similarly, the State of Israel now seeks to exercise its existential right to self-defence, striving to act humanely, within the constraints of war.
Avraham’s moral compass could not be applied to the cities of S’dom and Amorah, just as it would have failed with Amalek, the Nazis and Hamas. In such exceptional circumstances, the pursuit of peace requires the inescapable choice, of unflinching justice…
Mia Handel
Imagine life as a vast ocean, where each of us navigates upon a unique vessel. The winds of fate may bring storms or gentle breezes, yet it is not the force of these winds that determines our course, but rather the set of our sails. In this scene, we delve into the profound truth behind Edith Eger’s poignant philosophy that: “In the end, it’s not what happens to us that matters most – it’s what we choose to do with it.” Thus, we can uncover the transformative power of choice.
Edith Eger was a Jewish Hungarian psychologist born in 1927. Living through the holocaust, Edith bore witness to unimaginable atrocities, surviving her time in Auschwitz concentration camp at only 16 years old. Eger’s poignant sentiment about the power of response in shaping a situation resonates deeply in the modern context of the Jewish nation, particularly during the aftermath of the Holocaust.
Confronted with unimaginable trauma and loss, the Jewish nation chose to transform their profound pain into the foundation of a new beginning: the establishment of the State of Israel. Such valiant acts of rebuilding and reclaiming the Jewish identity stand as a testament to our collective strength, determination, and unwavering spirit as a nation. Eger’s insight captures this journey, illuminating how a grieving nation forged a future from the depths of despair. This narrative of triumph over tragedy serves as a powerful reminder of the capacity for renewal and the impact of choice in shaping a situation.
Despite the tragedies of the holocaust, the world did not learn, on October seventh, the Jewish world was plunged into a profound sense of sorrow and disbelief. Yet, amidst the anguish, a beacon of resilience emerged, illuminating the path forward. From the depths of desolation, a wave of support and solidarity surged forth, binding individuals and communities together in a montage of compassion and strength. In every corner of the world, from bustling cities to remote villages, from cliff-side parks in Dover Heights, and New York’s famous Times Square, Jews alike stood together, united in grief and resolve. Through tear-stained eyes and heavy hearts, we raised our voices in unison, rallying for justice and remembrance each, and every one of us knowing someone who had been affected. But it was not just in the streets and public squares where the response resonated; it was in the quiet moments of solace and reflection, where candles were lit in memory of those lost, and prayers were whispered for healing and for hope. This outpouring of emotion, this outpouring of love, served as a reminder that it is not the tragedy itself that defines us, but rather how we choose to respond to it. And in the face of unimaginable loss, the Jewish people have chosen love over hate, unity over division, and resilience over despair.
In Judaism we are taught that Hashem is the ultimate unity, and we are created Betzelem Elokim, in the image of G-D. We could have let the rising hate and antisemitism present in recent times diminish our spark, yet we chose to use the tragedy as fuel for our flames, uniting us in the face of oppression fulfilling our desires to act in the way of G-D.
In uncertain times, we find ourselves searching for that tiny glimmer of hope, that spark that will ignite a blaze of spirit. That one desire to send a few supplies to help our soldiers, that evolved into a global scale humanitarian aid shipment. The seemingly minor insignificant reactions we have to such barbaric events, lead to the flood of support and service to those in need, and create opportunity for us to practice G’milot Hassidim, acts of loving-kindness.
Let our spirit, our unity and our strength be the lighthouse that glimmers across the bay of grief, as the tides rise, as more ships sail in, let our light continue to grow. Watch as our flame will reach the horizon and unite with our generations before us. May we continue to use our tumultuous history, not for grief but for change, and use the events of our society, Mip’nei Tikkun Ha-Olam, “for the sake of repairing the world.”
Jessica Want
Picture yourself in the final days of World War II. Your body is weak and fragile, yet you’re forced to walk what seems like an endless journey, now known to you as the ‘death march’. The rough gravel under your bare, blistered feet sends waves of pain up your legs with each step. Hunger gnaws at your insides, with your only substance the bitter, earthy grass, barely enough to keep you moving. Soon, your legs give out, and you’re unable to move. Just as hope fades, the unimaginable occurs: a pair of warm, strong hands lift you. A soldier becomes your saviour, your knight in shining armour. You are saved.
This powerful story of Holocaust survivor, Edith Eger is not just a testament to the horrors she endured, but to the incredible strength and resilience of the human spirit.
It is through resilience that Edith embodies her statement: “In the end, it’s not what happens to us that matters most – it’s what we choose to do with it.”
Our experiences, no matter how challenging, do not define us. Instead, it is our responses, our choices, and our actions that shape who we are and who we become. In the Jewish community, we face a society that is constantly changing, presenting us with both challenges and opportunities. We encounter the rising tide of anti-Semitism, the struggle for Jewish identity in a globalized world, and the need to maintain unity within our diverse community. Yet, it is our choices in response to these circumstances that define us.
Let’s take Joseph, for example. Joseph was a young dreamer, who was betrayed by his brothers, sold into slavery, falsely accused, imprisoned and endured years of separation from his family. Yet, despite these hardships, Joseph chose to act with integrity, wisdom, and forgiveness, ultimately rising to become a powerful leader in Egypt. His choices not only saved Egypt from famine but also reunited his family. His ability to overcome adversity illustrates the importance of resilience and the power of choosing how to respond to life’s challenges. It wasn’t what happened to Joseph that mattered most – it was what he chose to do with it.
Everyone in this room has at some point in their lives, faced moments of challenge, adversity, and uncertainty. But it is through resilience and personal agency that a person can transcend these tough moments, positively impact others and make a difference in the world.
The Ethics of our Fathers tells us, “In a place where there are no men, strive to be a man.” This means where there is no one else to take the initiative and assume responsibility, a person should take the leadership upon himself. It means being proactive rather than passive, shaping our destinies rather than letting circumstances define us, being resilient, rather than inflexible.
The Jewish world today is at a pivotal moment. With the Israel-Hamas conflict beginning 261 days ago, many of us may be feeling a complex mix of emotions. Despite these troubling events, we are witnessing a surge in solidarity and activism within our communities. Jewish organizations are mobilizing resources to provide aid and foster dialogue aimed at peace and understanding. Shoshana Eisner created Operation Golda because instead of helplessly hearing about the war in Israel, she proactively founded a group that sources and sends essential supplies to Israel.
Individuals are speaking out, educating others, and taking concrete steps to combat antisemitism. Take Eden Golan, whose mission is to bring people together through the power of music and redefine Israel’s image. Eden placed 5th overall in Eurovision, with her performance of ‘Hurricane’ spreading a message of resilience and unity, inspiring many to stand against hatred and support peace.
These collective efforts underscore our resilience and commitment to the Jewish principles of Tikkun Olam and Pikuach Nefesh, as well as Kol Yisrael Arevim Zeh Bazeh. By embodying these core values, we not only strengthen our communal bonds but also affirm our dedication to Shalom and Chesed. Even in times of crisis, we can unite and make a meaningful impact on the world around us.
I want you to reflect on “In the end, it’s not what happens to us that matters most – it’s what we choose to do with it.” Each of us has the power to transform adversity into an opportunity for growth, to turn challenges into moments of profound strength and resilience. Take a moment to recognize your strengths. You have within you the capacity to overcome, to thrive, and to make a meaningful difference. Embrace your power, act, and let your resilience shine as a beacon of hope and inspiration to those around you.
moriahcollegeblog.com 