I just got back home after another week with my IDF reserves unit.

Our unit has two main responsibilities. The first is providing first aid in emergencies, so we always have doctors and paramedics with us at all times. The second is transporting troops and supplies behind enemy lines, so we have highly skilled drivers who can navigate difficult terrain using night vision gear.

Since October 7, 2023, we’ve served on all fronts, from the northern border to Gaza. In previous rounds, we operated alongside other reserve units.

This time, in Lebanon, we’re working mostly with regular IDF soldiers, young men and women, 19–21 years old. Serving with them has been incredibly inspiring. A couple of nights ago, I had a special encounter with a small team of yeshiva boys from Yeshivat Hakotel. But unlike most “hesder boys,” these young men were all “chutznikim”, lone soldiers who chose to stay in Israel and serve after coming to learn in yeshiva.

Seven soldiers in total. Five from the United States, one from London, and one from Brazil. Their commander wasn’t religious. A secular kibbutznik. His parents had moved to the US, but he chose to come back, to serve. While we were driving them from one outpost to another, they started singing in the back of the Hummer.

No instruments. Just voices. A cappella. It was magical.

They began with Shabbat songs. Moved into Israeli folk songs. And when someone asked, finished with a couple of Coldplay classics. In the middle of a war zone young Israelis and Jews from around the world, religious and secular, singing together in the dark.

It was one of the sweetest moments in my long IDF career.

And yet, it’s impossible to ignore the contrast. At a time when antisemitism is rising sharply across the world when Jews are being attacked simply for being Jewish, including the recent assault in London, these young men made a different choice. They didn’t step back. They stepped forward. They left comfortable lives abroad to stand on the front lines for the Jewish people.

Spending time with these pure tzadikim, I felt deep pride, but also a quiet frustration. Because alongside their example, there are thousands of young Haredi men who are not enlisting. The idea that Torah learning can be completely disconnected from the fate of Am Yisrael, especially in a moment like this, is hard to accept.

There is another model. One that is already alive and growing. The world of Hesder yeshivot, and now also emerging Haredi Hesder frameworks, shows what Torah can look like at its best.

Torah that walks hand in hand with responsibility. Torah that leads to action.

Torah that deepens Ahavat Yisrael, not distances itself from it. And I am optimistic.

Optimistic that more and more Haredi young men will choose this path, to connect more deeply to Am Yisrael, to take part in its defense and its future, to be exactly where they belong. Because the young men in the back of that Hummer weren’t just singing.

They were showing us the way forward. And in a time of darkness, that is exactly where hope begins.

© The Times of Israel (Blogs)