A Jew Is Never Stuck

By Sivan Rahav Meir

“A Jew is never stuck.” I was very moved to hear this statement from young American Jews who came to Israel for the first time through the Livnot U’Lehibanot program. They were scheduled to fly back to the U.S. during the week of the war with Iran and, of course, their flight was canceled. But instead of feeling helpless and depressed, they decided to set goals for themselves: They’ve been busy repairing and painting bomb shelters in the northern city of Tzfat.

And why did the words of these young people touch me so deeply? Because it reminded me of a famous story about the Lubavitcher Rebbe. Once, a group of Chabad women were stuck in an airport on a Friday due to a snowstorm. Worried about their situation, they called the Rebbe and told him they were stuck. The Rebbe responded: “Stuck? There is no such thing; a Jew is never stuck. Wherever he is, he has a mission to accomplish.”

So these women started looking around the airport for Jewish women who didn’t light Shabbat candles and gave them candles.

There are Jewish women who began to light Shabbat candles, and continue to do so to this day, because a group of women were “stuck” in a snowstorm on erev Shabbat.

This is a message for all of us, in every situation.

In response to the above post, which appeared last week in Hebrew, I received the following letter from Shira, mother of IDF solider Eitan Dishon, who fell in battle in Gaza.

“You quoted the Lubavitcher Rebbe that a Jew is never stuck, and I just wanted to tell you how I experienced this myself. I returned today to Israel on a rescue flight from New York after I was ‘stuck’ in the United States. I had traveled there with the Menucha V’Yeshua organization, which provides services to grieving families, but was compelled to remain there for an extra eight days due to the situation in Israel.

“But we were never really stuck, not at all. Our extra time there began with an uplifting concert by Ishay Ribo in New York. We were privileged at that event to speak about Eitan, and Ishay spoke about him on stage with deep feelings, dedicating a song to his memory.

“On the following Shabbat, I was asked to speak about Eitan at a number of gatherings. Afterward, women approached me with tears in their eyes and said that my words had given them strength. And, on my end, this was exactly the “hug” that I needed. The support from our brothers and sisters in America gives me strength and reminds me of the character of our people. We Jews are never stuck; we stick together!”

What is being said at graduation parties this year? I think Sefer Bamidbar, which we are reading now in the Torah, can offer us some direction.

The Jewish people wander for 40 years in the desert. They experience highs and lows, surprises and battles, triumphs and setbacks. But one thing remains constant: at the center of everything is the Mishkan—the spiritual heart of the nation. Throughout their journey, all 12 tribes are arranged around it. In every new place they arrive, the first thing they do is set up the Mishkan, the beating heart of holiness, of identity, of spiritual life.

This year’s graduates began elementary school during the pandemic. They lived through October 7, and now they are finishing school in the aftermath of Operation “Am K’Lavi.” Through all the upheavals and challenges, one thing matters most: the values their parents and teachers instilled in them. That, in a sense, is their Mishkan—eternal, sacred, and unshakable.

I had the privilege of speaking via Zoom at several graduation ceremonies over the past few days. I asked the students: “What was your ‘Mishkan’? What values stayed strong through all the turmoil?” The answers I received were deeply moving. It turns out that sometimes, it’s the challenges themselves that bring us closer to our center—to our heart, our Jewish identity, and the story we all share.

A heartfelt thank you to all educators for yet another meaningful year in difficult times. May we all, in this coming summer and in every journey and challenge ahead, remember to keep the Mishkan at the center always.

The opening commandment of this week’s parashah, Chukat, to bring an unblemished red heifer in order to purify an impure person, is a mystery. The introduction to this commandment tells us that this is a “statute” or “chok,” one that has no reason. Unlike other logical and understandable commandments, we are told that this is beyond reason and we should not search for any.

For generations, our sages and philosophers have discussed the reasons for the commandments, both the obvious and the hidden meanings, in a determined effort to understand them. Some questioned whether human beings should even try to understand everything.

Maimonides writes: “It is appropriate for a person to meditate on the judgments of the holy Torah and know their ultimate purpose according to his capacity. If he cannot find a reason or a motivating rationale for a practice, he should not regard it lightly. Nor should he break through to ascend to G-d, lest G-d burst forth against him.”

Yes, we are given a challenge to learn as much as we possibly can, to search deeply for reasons, and to try and fathom the difficult-to-understand statutes, but we have to know when to stop. Some things will always remain hidden, and we will never understand them. n

Translated by Yehoshua Siskin and Janine Muller Sherr

Read more by Sivan Rahav Meir at SivanRahavMeir.com.