Shailos In The Shelter

By: Rabbi Dr. Shlomo Brody

It was a few days into the Lion’s Roar war. We had just begun Ma’ariv at the street minyan in front of my home in Modiin when the pre-siren alert sounded. This alert means a missile launch has been detected from Iran and sent across a wide region. Within minutes, those in the path will hear the siren and have less than ninety seconds to reach shelter. As gabbai, I quickly stopped the minyan and told everyone we would resume after the all clear. I went inside, where my wife and I checked on our five children. Our oldest was at their army base. The others, ages ten to eighteen, were at home or with friends.

Then my phone rang. It was a call to the Ematai Robert M. Beren Medical Halacha Helpline. The caller was a woman from the Midwest United States. Her father had intermediate dementia, complications from diabetes, and severe bed sores. Doctors were warning that amputation might soon be necessary, and perhaps hospice care was more appropriate. She was asking a hard question: what does halacha say at this moment? This was not an immediate emergency, and I never rush these conversations. I told her I was in Israel and we might get a siren soon, but we could begin and pause if needed.

The minutes passed, and Modiin never received the siren. The missile went further north. I sent a WhatsApp message to reconvene the minyan and continued the call. For thirty minutes, we discussed her father’s condition. We reviewed the medical facts and explored the halachic framework. In the background, I heard distant explosions, hoping they were interceptions. Ma’ariv was long over by the time we finished, but the woman now had greater clarity about her next steps.

When I hung up, I paused. The moment felt surreal. Missiles were flying overhead. I was moving in and out of a protected space, while advising someone in a quiet American city about life and death. Since then, this has repeated itself several times. I never know when a helpline call will come in. Questions about do not resuscitate orders, artificial nutrition and hydration, and advance directives arrive without warning, always under the shadow of the next possible siren. Just today, I stepped out of the shelter and received another call, this time from Jerusalem. A woman’s mother had pneumonia, then a severe bacterial infection, and now the beginnings of kidney failure. Another family facing difficult decisions. War does not pause illness. Life and death continue.

I have asked myself how to understand this. I could easily route these calls to colleagues. Ematai has other capable rabbis, and the phone system allows for it. No one would question the choice. But I have not done so. In truth, I have found these conversations meaningful, even calming. A friend quipped, “Misery loves company.” Perhaps, but I don’t think so. There is something deeper.

At a time when life itself is under attack, we are called to affirm it. When a murderous regime fires missiles without distinction, we respond by treating every life with care. We do not act in haste. We do not treat life lightly. Judaism teaches the sanctity of life, alongside honesty about mortality. Our default is to extend life, and that is a good thing. Many times, I urge people to continue exploring treatment options with their doctors. As Pirkei Avos teaches, every moment of life in which we can do good is a blessing.

Yet there are moments when suffering is great and the benefit of treatment is doubtful, when allowing nature to take its course is permitted. Reaching that point demands thought, responsibility, and care. That process itself affirms life. It is a quiet but powerful response to those who seek destruction.

As I write these words, Modiin has had its 100th siren. According to the “Shelter Time” website, we have spent 26 hours and 21 minutes in shelters, over a full day of our lives in just over three weeks. Yet that ranks us only 98th among Israeli towns. We are among the fortunate ones. My nephew, meanwhile, is back in Lebanon, where he has been fighting for over 360 days since October 7th. We do not know when this war will end. But in the midst of it, the phone keeps ringing. I am grateful for that, because each call is a reminder that when others try to bring us to the abyss, we answer by affirming life. n

Rabbi Dr. Shlomo Brody is the executive director of Ematai, an organization that helps Jews navigate dilemmas of aging and end-of-life care. Ematai.org.