We are living through some wild and scary times, but also incredibly inspiring ones. In my sixteen plus years in Bozeman, I have never seen so many Jews excited about being Jewish, identifying as Jewish, and seeking ways to connect with their heritage. I’m glad that the soul of the Jewish people has been awakened because, for me personally, it’s the bright side in what has otherwise been a rough five weeks in Jewish leadership as the workload has been overwhelming and exhausting. Just last week I did a 40-minute sit down interview with our local TV station, KBZK, an hour interview on our local FM station, KGVM, dealt with an episode in a local school in which a Jewish kid was demonized, and spent an hour with two young Jewish women who are anti-Zionist and wanted to educate me (I’ll let you guess who educated whom). All this in addition to the regular workload of lifting the spiritual state of our community through Torah and mitzvos.
This past Shabbos, Parashas Chayei Sarah, I was concerned about having a minyan in shul as quite a few locals had Covid/flu/cold/cough symptoms, and so on Friday I rallied enough local chevra to lock in a minyan. Yet, as I stood in shul on Shabbos morning, not only did the minyan show up, but men, women, and children rolled in at 10:00 a.m. and kept rolling in until 11:00 a.m. About forty Jews showed up in shul on a regular Fall Shabbos and celebrated with their Jewish family. They were from all backgrounds and ages: two in their eighties and two kids under ten, two Montana State University students, and two local middle-aged businessmen. It was diverse and beautiful.
It was unique because, for the first time since the Hamas attack on October 7, a group of young Progressives/Communists from Missoula came to Bozeman to organize a march for Palestine. I was deeply hurt by this. I didn’t want these lies and fairytales shared in my beloved town, yet this is not Russia and we do have a First Amendment, so there was not much I could do. I know the heart of Bozeman, the soul of Montana, and my gut told me that there would not be a big turnout. Initially I thought I would go downtown in my kapota and tallis and greet them with smiles, but then I decided that they did not deserve my attention and I’d stay in shul for the Kiddush with the community and ignore them. I was right. About fifty people showed up screaming “spend the money on education, not on bombs and occupation,” and they looked like sad, miserable people who needed some attention. The locals didn’t really show up and for that I’m grateful.
If you’d walk into our shul on Shabbos, you’d be uplifted by the spirit and the Jewish mood as it was hustling and bustling with Yiddishkeit. Davening, Krias HaTorah, a Dvar Torah sermon, a massive Kiddush lunch courtesy of Chavie, dedicated by Tzvi and Maureen Katz of Chicago in honor of the soldiers in the IDF, great conversations, a l’chaim, and a beautiful Shabbos experience for all. You’d hear the songs: “It’s Geshmak to be a Yid,” “Keili Atah,” and more. You would hear bentching and Jewish children playing. It’s a Chabad custom to recite the entire book of Tehillim on Shabbos Mevarchim, the Shabbos on which we bless the new month, and our fourteen-year-old daughter Chaya finished the entire Tehillim for the first time in her life this past Shabbos. I still remember when she made it to Kapitel Chof, Psalm 20, and this time with devotion and sincerity, starting at 6:30 a.m., she finished the entire sefer.
That’s what we have that they, the enemies of the Jewish people, will never have. Love, light, inspiration, respect, community, and kindness. We raise our children to celebrate life and they do the opposite. They scream on megaphones and we dance with Torahs. They tear down signs of child hostages and we pray for the well-being of all suffering children in the world. We invent technology and medicine to make the world a better place, and they create bombs and RPGs to murder and maim. We visit those who are hospitalized and bring them warmth, food, and toys, and they place rockets in hospitals, endangering the lives of the patients. It’s “us” versus “them,” and we are enjoined to be an asset to humanity, a light to the nations, and they are neither.
On Tuesday, we hosted a beautiful bris in Bozeman for a family who moved here during Covid. Seeing family and friends flying into town to celebrate the bris of a new Jewish baby is always heartwarming. Watching parents as they gift their child with an eternal bond with our Creator and 4,000 years of Jewish history is moiradik. As I spoke to the assembly, I shared from our Torah portion, Toldos, about Yaakov and Esav, twin brothers born to our Matriarch Rivkah. One of them became the father of the twelve tribes of Israel, and the other became the precursor of the bloody Roman empire and other savage nations. Everywhere Esav turned, every moment of his life, was filled with divisiveness, hatred, lies, superficiality, and evil intentions. We see a new baby, a descendant of Yaakov Avinu, having a bris, being inducted into the covenant of Avraham Avinu, and we derive nachas. We are so happy for their holy future. The descendants of Esav have babies and see them as tools of war, hoping they will hurt and kill Jews and other “infidels” and merit “heavenly bliss” in the form of seventy-two virgins.
The contrast couldn’t be any clearer.
As these ignoramuses scream and shout in the street, we connect and re-connect. We had a Kohen who moved here from Chicago (Reuven ben Dovid HaKohen) and we had a Levi who moved here from California (Yitzchak ben Leizer Halevi), and we also had Israelim: Henoch Leib ben Avraham from Redding, Michoel ben Moshe from Miami, and Moshe ben Avraham, and Yaakov ben Daniel, born and bred in Bozeman. We also had Shlomo ben Avraham from Newport Beach, and for Hagbah, Natan ben Michoel, who moved here from Texas. For gelilah, we had Boruch ben Yitzchak Dov, who’s been here for 25 years and is originally from Seattle. It’s a Kibbutz Galuyos, an ingathering of the exiles of Jews who did not expect to be in shul in Bozeman, but are now davening regularly. We are an awesome people who love our Torah, our people, our G-d, and life itself. It’s why the “from the river to the sea” crowd can never get rid of us.
The Rebbe, zt’l, often reminded us that the Midrash says, “Halacha hee sheEsav soneh leYaakov—It is a halacha that Esav hates Yaakov.” It’s not just a commentary on life, it’s not just a historical fact, it’s built into Judaism as a halacha, making it an incurable reality that the Esavs of the world will always hate us, no matter what. I believe strongly in dialogue. Conversations can be powerful. But when they are just irrational haters who will hate you no matter what you say, no matter what the facts are, their minds won’t be changed, and so the only message that gets through is seeing Jewish lives active, Jewish souls on fire for G-d, watching Am Yisrael Chai.
Rabbi Chaim Bruk is co-CEO of Chabad Lubavitch of Montana and spiritual leader of The Shul of Bozeman. For comments or to partner in our holy work, e-mail rabbi@jewishmontana.com or visit JewishMontana.com/Donate.
