This piece, by Hanassi member Rabbi Paul Bloom, was published yesterday in Jewish Link. Thank you, Paul, for letting us republish it here.
On Erev Rosh Hashanah, as households busied
themselves with preparations for the three-day holiday, a different sound
pierced the air—not the blasts of a shofar, but the wailing of sirens echoing
across the country. For nearly an hour, Israelis were urged to take shelter in
public and private spaces, or in windowless rooms, as nearly 200 ballistic
missiles rained down on Israel from Iran. Miraculously, not one Israeli was
seriously harmed. This incredible outcome is a testament to the effectiveness
of the Israel Defense Forces (IDF) and, many believe, the protective hand of
Hashem.
Interestingly, a cloud cover shrouded much of
the country that day—an unusual occurrence for this time of year, evoking
memories of the protective cloud that surrounded the Children of Israel during
their journey through the desert, thousands of years ago.
Many may not fully grasp the magnitude of the
miracle that unfolded on Erev Rosh Hashanah. Israel boasts three air defense
systems, each a technological marvel designed to intercept missiles at various
ranges: Iron Dome, David's Sling, and the Arrow system. That night, as Iranian
missiles descended upon Israel, all three defense systems were flawlessly
activated and executed, working in perfect unison—a feat so complex that the
odds of it happening without a hitch are nearly non-existent.
Had any one of these systems failed, the
consequences could have been catastrophic, with hundreds of Israelis
potentially killed or injured. Understanding the intricacies of what transpired
that night and throughout the ongoing conflict, it becomes clear that the low
number of casualties is akin to witnessing a modern-day miracle—similar to the
splitting of the Red Sea thousands of years ago.
Historically, there have always been those who
questioned the miraculous nature of such events, whether during the War of
Independence, the Six-Day War, or the Yom Kippur War. Similarly, the events of
Erev Rosh Hashanah stand as just one of many miracles experienced over the past
year. From the interception of hundreds of missiles and drones before Passover
to the incredible detonation of thousands of pagers and Walkie Talkies
to the successful detonation of
crucial targets in enemy bunkers, these instances reflect unprecedented
military achievements with remarkably low civilian casualties.
The sirens that night served not only as a
warning to seek shelter but also as a divine call for teshuvah (repentance). As
Rabbi Wein emphasized in his 69th consecutive Shabbat Shuvah drasha, teshuvah
is a personal journey. A journey
that starts out with one
small step. Hashem is looking for
that small step, not the the completion of the entire process. Some reach out
to those they may have wronged, while others recognize a greater divine
orchestration in the events unfolding around them. The miraculous successes of
the IDF can no longer be dismissed as mere coincidence or the product of
skillful strategy.
Yet, there remains a segment of the world that
fails to recognize these miracles, including major media outlets like the New
York Times. In their coverage of Israel's actions, particularly following the
elimination of terrorist leader Nasrallah, the Times framed the operation as an
“escalation” while eulogizing a man who sought the destruction of Israel. Such
biased reporting does a disservice to the truth and reveals a disturbing
tendency to sympathize with those who wish harm upon Israel and the Jewish people.
As we reflect on the three types of sins we
must atone for—between man and Hashem, between man and man, and between man and
himself—it's crucial not to overlook the latter. The process of teshuvah may
begin with small, deliberate actions.
In Shaarei Teshuvah (Sha’ar Aleph), Rabbenu Yonah
presents a poignant parable about a group of prisoners who were digging a
tunnel to escape. As they made their way to freedom, everyone successfully
broke free except for one man. When the king's guard discovered him, he began
to beat this lone prisoner. The question arises: why was the guard punishing
him?
Various interpretations exist, but one key
lesson stands out: this prisoner had the opportunity to escape; he simply chose
not to make the effort. His failure to act serves as a powerful metaphor for
the teshuvah (repentance) process. Often, all it takes to begin our journey
toward repentance is a small, intentional effort.
This idea also resonates with the story of
King Achav (Malachim I), one of Israel's most notorious rulers. When Eliyahu
Hanavi questioned why Achav’s teshuvah would never be accepted, the answer was
clear: Achav made no genuine effort to change. Had he taken even the
slightest genuine step toward
repentance, it would have been recognized and accepted.
Just like the prisoner and Achav, many of us
find ourselves held back by our own reluctance to act. The path to freedom and
spiritual growth can often start with a simple decision to make that first
effort.
For those who support platforms that promote
anti-Israel sentiments, the decision to disengage from such sources is a
simple, yet significant act of teshuvah. Excuses for maintaining subscriptions
or advertising in biased media outlets do not hold water; the time has come to
seek alternatives that align more closely with our values.
This Yom Kippur, may we all come to recognize
the miracles that Hashem has performed for the Jewish people over the past
year. Let us take those small steps toward teshuvah, collectively accelerating
the journey towards our final
redemption.