By Sivan Rahav Meir
None of us is going to miss Bashar Assad who escaped from Syria the other day, but what exactly is going on here?
Without a Jewish perspective on recent events, it’s easy to think that the world has gone mad—that everything has become chaotic, out-of-control, and scary. But it’s important to understand the story as it really is. We are witnessing a process with a clear direction and purpose. History is unfolding before our eyes: The Jewish people are returning to their ancestral land after 2,000 years of exile, and it’s not a simple process. We must teach the world to distinguish between good and evil, pure and impure. Whoever participates in this mission will be blessed, but those who interfere will be relegated to the trash heap of history.
Am Yisrael is small but eternal; our enemies are great in number but transient. We have now witnessed another historic day: After 52 years of tyrannical rule, the Assad regime crumbled overnight, and Israeli forces crossed into Syria.
Do we remember the president of Iran who was killed in a plane crash? The explosive pager attack targeting Hezbollah terrorists? The elimination of Hezbollah chief Hassan Nasrallah? Hamas leader Yihye Sinwar’s elimination in Gaza? And what about the countless clandestine operations we will never hear about?
Events are still in progress and we don’t really know what will happen next. How amusing (or sad) it is to reflect today on political analyses written only days ago by respected pundits.
In the face of such upheaval, it is important, first of all, to rejoice over the downfall of yet another despot. We must continue to hope for a good outcome, to pray and to strengthen ourselves with Torah study. We must acknowledge the efforts and courage of those who brought about these changes (especially those working behind the scenes), and to recognize the complexity of the situation. Finally, it is essential that we remain humble and hold on to our faith.
We should also bear in mind that we are in the month of Kislev—the month of Chanukah. This is the holiday that highlights the importance of preserving our identity; it is the holiday of victories and salvations, miracles and wonders, not only “in those days” but also “in this time.” While fighting the Greeks, the Maccabees didn’t know that their victory would be celebrated with a new holiday. Fifty years from now, how will we look back on the days we are going through now?
The events of Simchat Torah 5784 were more shocking than we could have ever imagined. May we soon be surprised by all the good, beyond our wildest dreams, that will come our way!
Three Stories about a Great Man
The 7th of Kislev marked 73 years since the passing of Rabbi Yaakov Moshe Charlap, one of the foremost students of Rabbi Kook, the rabbi of the Sha’arei Chesed neighborhood in Jerusalem and head of the Merkaz HaRav Yeshiva. Here are three stories about this great figure, collected by his great-grandson, Yair Charlap.
1. During Havdalah when saying, “…Who distinguishes between the holy and the mundane, between light and darkness,” Rabbi Charlap would emphasize the word “holy” in a loud and strong voice, and the word “mundane” in a weaker voice, and so on, “light” strongly, and then “darkness” softly, with his hand making a clear gesture of separation, as if he were truly separating light from darkness. One could see his sorrow at the departure of the holiness of Shabbat. (As told by former President Zalman Shazar, who was close to him.)
2. At an event marking 100 years since the establishment of the Sha’arei Chesed neighborhood, Rabbi Shmuel Auerbach shared his childhood memories of Rabbi Charlap, saying, “More than seventy years after hearing him pray, the slow and deliberate way he said ‘Shema Yisrael’ still echoes in my ears.”
3. During the rabbi’s final days, construction work was being done right underneath his window. The family wanted to remove the source of the noise but Rabbi Charlap stopped them, saying: “Until now, I was privileged to go out and see Jerusalem being built. Now I can no longer go outside, but when I hear the noise of the machines, I know that Jerusalem is being built. Do not take that privilege away from me.”
Word of the Year: Brain Rot
The Oxford Press recently announced its Word of the Year: brain rot. While the meaning may seem self-explanatory, Oxford defines it as “the supposed deterioration of a person’s mental or intellectual state, especially viewed as the result of overconsumption of material (now, particularly online content) considered to be trivial or unchallenging.”
This term immediately brought to mind the appellation of the Jewish people as the “People of the Book.” For millennia, our nation has been devoted to learning, with our connection to Torah serving as the foundation of our resilience through every challenge. This commitment to study and action not only shaped our moral character but also sanctified us as a people. As we read in Devarim: “Observe them [the laws] faithfully, for that will be proof of your wisdom and discernment to other peoples, who on hearing of all these laws will say, Surely, that great nation is a wise and discerning people.”
As “a wise and discerning people,” we recognize the antidote to the threat of brain rot: cultivating a world filled with deeper study, intentional focus, and meaningful connections—to Hashem and to one another.
Taking Our Time
In this week’s Torah portion, Vayishlach, we read, “Now, let my master go ahead before his servant, and I will move at my own slow pace, according to the pace of the work that is ahead of me and according to the pace of the children, until I come to my master, to Seir.” (Bereishit 33:14)
We are slower. The world runs on ahead, going from one innovation to the next, from one ideology to its successor. The pulse of the Jewish people beats slower and deeper. Many commentators adopt this view as they try to penetrate the secret of the Jewish people as expressed in this verse. Yaakov tells Eisav to run ahead, and that he will go at a slower space, citing his work and his children as the two reasons for his more deliberate gait.
The Midrash explains that “work” alludes to the break we take on Shabbat and festivals. Yaakov explains that his lifestyle has a different pace. When the world seems to be progressing, earning money and building, Yaakov and his descendants choose to pause and take a spiritual break, even if they risk financial loss and even if the Eisav of that particular generation considers them to be old-fashioned.
The second reason for Yaakov’s slow rate of progress is his children. The family is one of his core principles. It takes time to dress an infant in the morning, to ask a child what he wants for lunch, and to help him do his homework. It’s not a simple question of popping something into the microwave. Parents need to move at a slower pace. Yaakov tells Eisav and the culture he represents, “You think that I am lagging behind, but in reality I will not be left behind; I will survive long after you.”
Translated by Yehoshua Siskin, Janine Muller Sherr
Read more by Sivan Rahav Meir at SivanRahavMeir.com.