The Old World is not Coming Back

Last month at the General Assembly, the annual conference of the Jewish Federations in North America held its annual conference in Washington, D.C. One of the keynote speakers was Bari Weiss, who delivered a most compelling address. I rarely find a speech so impactful and thought-provoking. The presentation was entitled "The Old World is Not Coming Back." I will share the beginning of her remarks. When did you know? Looking back, now that we are on the far side, I wonder: When did you realize that things had changed? When did you know that the things we had taken for granted were suddenly out of our reach? That the norms that felt as certain as gravity had disappeared? That the institutions that had launched our grandparents had turned hostile to our children? When did you notice that what had once been steady was now shaky ground? Did you look down to see if your own knees were trembling? When did you realize that we were not immune from history, but living inside of it? When did you see that our world was actually the world of yesterday—and a new one, one with far fewer certainties, one where everything seems up for grabs, was coming into being? Weiss lists at least a dozen events over the last two decades that exhibited violent Jew-hatred that resulted in death and destruction. Of course, she mentions October 7 and its horrific consequences. Her remarks' main takeaway is that we are never going back into the old world of pre-October 7. We must come to grips with this reality. This week's parsha has an episode of the world's oldest hatred. In an effort of reconciliation, Yaakov presents multiple gifts to his brother Esav, who desires to kill him for past grievances. Esav is overwhelmed by Yaakov's generosity, embraces his brother, and kisses him. In an unusual and rare instance, several dots above the Hebrew word וַיִּשָּׁקֵ֑הוּ translates into him kissing him. Rashi quotes the famous rabbinic interpretation about the significance of the dots over the word וַיִּשָּׁקֵ֑הוּ. There is a law or halacha that Esav hates Yaakov. It was a moment of temporary weakness that Esav displayed in his embrace of Yaakov. (I would equate it to a version of air quotes around the word וַיִּשָּׁקֵ֑הוּ). The hatred of Esav for Yaakov has spanned thousands of years as the biological and ideological descendants of Esav continue to not only hate the descendants of Yaakov but also plot their genocide. Many well-meaning people over the generations have tried to solve the problem of Jew hatred with little success. As Rashi points out it is a halacha or law that this hatred will endure and manifest itself in a variety of ways. I find myself surprised about how much shock there is to a message from Bari Weiss that we are not going back to the old world. The current manifestation of unadulterated Jew hatred is just the latest version of the original hatred. Understandably, this can cause sadness and depression. I would suggest that we utilize this uncomfortable era as an opportunity to embrace our destiny. The Jewish People have received the Torah, which represents the message of G-d in this world, and are challenged to be guardians and ambassadors of this sacred task. That uncomfortable truth has made some Jews unsure about our destiny and caused some non-Jews to plan for our demise. It is our responsibility to get in touch with our inner self and embrace our mission connection and purpose. Another option would be to put our heads in the sand and pretend this is a passing phase. Bari Weiss delivered the inconvenient truth last month to Jewish leaders that mindset is just wishful thinking. The question we all need to ask ourselves is, what are we going to do about being a citizen in this newly discovered, uncomfortable world? Have a Peaceful Shabbos, Rabbi Yaakov Fisch

Climbing the Ladder to Greatness

When one tries to conjure a spiritual image in one's head, a few images may come to mind. Anything from envisioning the Kotel to another classic Jewish location that inspires feelings of closeness to G-d. Among the many items not on the list would be a ladder. After all, a product that one would purchase in Home Depot or Lowe's as a ladder has very little association with spirituality. It is precisely for that reason that it is most bizarre that a ladder finds itself the central item in one of the most spiritually charged visions that would define Jewish destiny. In this week's parsha, we learn that Yaakov dreamed about a ladder with its base planted in this world and its top cap reaching the heavens. In Yaakov's dream, we learn about the angles that ascend and descend the ladder. At this moment, G-d reveals himself to Jacob and reassures him about his journey outside his homeland and his overall Jewish destiny. Everything seems so profound and moving, yet one has to wonder how a ladder adds to the moment! The famous Kotzker Rebbe (1787–1859), a Hasidic Rebbe known for his sharp wisdom and wit, shed some insight on this issue. The Kotzker once asked his students: Who was higher, someone on the tenth rung of a ladder or someone on the twenty-fifth? When they responded that the person on the twenty-fifth was higher, Kotzker answered: Who is higher depends upon which way the person is heading. We may not appreciate it, but all of us in the journey of life are heading up the ladder to a more meaningful and purposeful life, or we are descending the ladder to a life of emptiness. In the dream of Yaakov, the base of the ladder is firmly on the ground and the top reaches the heavens. That image is supposed to serve as an outline for us as we are supposed to internalize that we must ascend and rise above all the pettiness and materialism of an increasingly empty world. It is more comfortable for us not to get on the ladder. Even if we are already on the ladder to greatness, part of us desires to descend to allow ourselves a life of more perceived comfort. A major theme of Sefer Bereishes (Genesis) is that we must rise above our comfort zones to find greatness. It turns out that a ladder really is most appropriate to deliver this timeless message. Have a Peaceful Shabbos, Rabbi Yaakov Fisch