Dear Brothers and Sisters,

I’ll start from the end:  This is a real war.  People are getting killed.  People are getting injured.  Businesses are suffering.  Reservists are called up and leaving their families with no school and the most labor-intensive Jewish holiday just a few days away.  Millions are scrambling to and from bomb shelters and things are not ok.  Where are you?

In the immediate aftermath of the brutal attack on Eretz Yisrael on October 7th, 2023, the response from world Jewry was unequivocal and unmistakable.  Everyone felt it.  Everyone mourned.  Everyone did something.  Everyone showed up.  I speak for so many of my Israeli friends and relatives when I say that we felt the hug of not just Am Yisrael (the Nation of Israel), but of Bnei Yisrael: the brotherhood that is our people.  We are one family and, to borrow a term, we are indivisible.

We watched, with tears of gratitude and camaraderie in our eyes, as planes full of people and supplies showed up to show support: they volunteered in schools, on farms, on army bases and staging areas.  People visited the sick, cooked for displaced families, soldiers, and the wounded.  Jews all over the world Davened, of course, for our soldiers, for the hostages, for our people, and our land, but they also wrote checks, lobbied politicians, packed duffel bags, and ……..they checked in.  They empathized.  They shouted “Imchem Anachnu b’Tzara” (we are with you in your pain) from the rooftops.  They acknowledged that our people were (many still are) bleeding and just wanted to lean in and shoulder some of that with Israel.

Well now it is March 21st, 2026.  Two and a half years later.  Thank God, all of the hostages are home though some 85 were killed in captivity.  We had moved into a new phase called “relative calm”.  Almost no new names of fallen soldiers, stories of hope and healing, and several months of uninterrupted school and jobs.  Not surprisingly, this phase has introduced (or perhaps we’ve just reacquainted ourselves?) some complacency:  Iran Round 1 was “The 12 Day War” during which Israel and the U.S. let Iran know that we didn’t appreciate their stubbornness.  The global community seemed unphased and besides, what’s 12 days?

On February 28th, just 22 days ago, after months of military positioning and posturing and of course, the ever-present global speculation, Israel and America executed a stunning display of firepower and effectively crippled the Iranian regime.  Targeted strikes removed powerful people while other aircraft have traveled back and forth between maritime and Israeli bases to disable the well known and shamelessly stated Iranian Threat.  While there is plenty to be said about the mid to longterm aftermath of this very expensive preemptive strike, the reality we are facing today in Israel is quite unpleasant, to put it very mildly.  When the war broke out 22 days ago, the first responses we saw from overseas were jubilant.  “Khomeini was killed!”. “It’s Purim 2.0!”.  “Look at how resilient the Israelis are as they dance in their bomb shelters!”.  And yet, 22 days later, more than 20 Israelis have been killed and thousands have been injured and/or displaced. Our fighter pilots who have clocked more flight miles in the last two weeks than my neighbor whose medical practice is in New York has racked up in the last 10 years and we all don’t know what to answer when someone from abroad asks about our Pesach plans.  Every single one of us knows that there is no rhyme or reason for when and where the miraculous defense systems might miss a ballistic missile so any siren could be our last.  Routine is a distant memory for many or even most and the systems in place (there are so many!  It’s truly amazing!) to offer support can’t possibly keep up with the need.  

War isn’t supposed to be fun.  I have no complaints.  Truly.  I am so grateful to be here today and every day.  But I am curious and I am far from the only one:  Where are you?

No, this isn’t a pitch for Aliyah and I’m pretty sure we don’t need too many more boots (although new recruits have been requesting gear as thousands march into Lebanon for the first time).  Our people and our army have enough experience to do what we are supposed to do and we don’t have the liberty to turn off that switch: soldiers do as they are told and the Home Front (that’s us) knows about warnings, sirens, safe places, zoom school, too much screentime, and people just generally feeling unpleasant.  But where are you?

I can’t say that I speak for everyone because I don’t know or speak to everyone, but there is a general consensus among my peers that I am not the only one who feels this way.  I don’t want to speculate (well, I do want to but I think that is unwise) as to why this is so, but I will allow myself the following:  War is unpleasant.  Unpleasantness requires regular encouragement.  We are all busy people with myriad responsibilities and limited capacity.  Plan B isn’t Plan A and OUR  Plan B certainly isn’t your Plan A.  I get it.  And I am still asking for your presence.  Better yet, I am asking for our reality to be present for YOU.  Plaster signs in your shuls.  Change the headings of your weekly newsletters.  Every Jewish organization everywhere should start every single one of its form emails (So Shabbos schedules, building campaign updates, event invitations, Eruv updates….Every Single One) with an acknowledgement of a war in Israel.  Start every announcement, sermon, or ceremony with a prayer for Israel.  Rabbis and community leaders, this one is for you:  We know you have a list of pre-Pesach shiurim to be delivered, new cleaning hacks and, depending on your Kehilla either a new Chumra or a new Kula for this year, but we have all had to pivot.  It would be so appreciated if you do the same.  For everyone else, when you send a boring e-mail asking for a simple favor, start with “How are you doing during these uncertain times?”.  One of the recurring COVID-19 jokes was about the ubiquitous use of the preface “during these unprecedented times”.  Just because there is precedent to Israelis being in bomb shelters (that’s why we have them, after all), doesn’t mean it is normal or easy.  Why do so many seem to be saying “well yes, we know you are living through this, but let’s just get straight down to business”.  Would you do the same for someone you know who was recently checked into a hospital?  “Hey Larry, I’m trying to figure out what colors we want for the tablecloths….also, any way you can make that beeping any quieter, it’s making me uncomfortable…”.  

Please add Tehillim after davening.  It is ok and warranted and appreciated and it might be just a little “annoying”.  That’s ok.

Please send a letter or an email or a WhatsApp to a friend, relative, or better yet – a complete stranger in Israel.  It is ok and warranted and appreciated and it might be just a little “annoying”.  That’s ok.

Please rewrite your sermon.  It is ok and warranted and appreciated and it might be just a little heavy.  That’s ok.

Please use your social media to change our national dialogue.  Let the algorithms know what is important to you and the magic of AI will do the rest.  Every follower of every Jewish account should be talking about this war. It is ok and warranted and appreciated and it might be just a little “annoying”.  That’s ok.

There is, at this very moment, 

A Soldier risking his life in the field sleeping among bushes in the rain

A wife at home with her children trying to manage work, zoom calls, sirens, and anxiety

A female soldier at the command center working nights all week and knowing that she won’t be able to make up this semester

A Chareidi soldier in a completely new environment juggling the culture change, the realities of combat, and the nagging voice in his head that reminds him of his own uncomfortable departure from his cultural norms

A grandfather, a career officer, who hasn’t seen his children or grandchildren in weeks

A pilot who has reconfigured his wedding plans for a small wedding before taking off on a dangerous mission to Iran the next day

Hundreds of thousands of children who can’t grow up in peace, haven’t been to school consistently for years, are growing up with sirens and rockets, and are spending too much time away from and worrying about their courageous fathers.

Among the conversations I have had recently about these ideas, a cherished friend said “But that’s life, isn’t it?  There must be peaks and valleys.  If October 7th was a peak, where is the valley?”.  I don’t know.  But as another fighter jet just flew over my head, I’d say this ain’t it.

We know that day will come soon but for now, hopefully we can juggle the joy and and freedom of Zman Cheiruseinu while simultaneously acknowledging the challenges that face us all – as well as the ones that are currently facing Eretz Yisrael and her inhabitants.

© The Times of Israel (Blogs)