Tag Archives: bible

False Prophets and Dreamers

(First published at Israelnationalnews.com)

Just days after we read in the weekly haftarah, “your demolishers and destroyers shall go forth from you” (Yeshayahu 49:17), as if on cue, a group of rabbis – many of whose leftist credentials are more solid than their Orthodox ones – castigated the State of Israel for its conduct of the war in Gaza and held the government responsible for preventing “mass starvation” in Gaza. It was less a statement of “moral clarity” than a repulsive moral muddle.

 Their statement was released – again, with impeccable timing – just days before we read another suitable, and quite relevant, biblical passage, about those who distort the Torah’s message and bring harm on our people. “If there arises in your midst a [false] prophet or dreamer, and he gives you a sign or a wonder, and the sign or the wonder of which he spoke to you comes to pass, saying, “Let us go after other gods” which you have not known “and let us serve them”, you shall not listen to the words of that prophet or to that dreamer of dreams, for Hashem your God tests you to know whether you love Hashem your God with all your heart and with all your soul” (Devarim 13:2-4).

The “signs and wonders” of these modern distorters of Torah are their credentials, organizational affiliations, and popularity with the anti-Torah media. And their message? Love your enemy, a very Christian approach, at least in theory but never in practice, but not Jewish at all. Embracing the libels of our enemies, the fake starvation claims. Assuming – without a shred of evidence – that Gazans are mostly good people whose desire for a bucolic life has been hijacked by Hamas and imperiled by Israel. And warmed-over leftism, which they substitute for the truth of Torah in many areas of life but have now injected into our fight for survival against a brutal enemy whose war and Jew hatred they are aiding and abetting.

Does Israel – does any country – have an obligation to feed an enemy population in wartime? As columnist Marc Thiessen wrote recently in the Washington Post, “Far from deliberate starvation in Gaza, Israel is doing something no nation has ever done, or even been expected to do: Feed the population of the aggressor force that attacked it while the war is still going on. “There is no historical precedent for a military providing the level of direct aid to an enemy population that Israel has provided to Gaza,” John Spencer, chair of urban warfare studies at West Point’s Modern War Institute, recently pointed out. The United States did not feed Germany and Japan while the war was going on; we forced their armies to surrender and then fed their populations.”

One will search the Torah and all of Jewish literature in vain for any notion that Jews are obligated to feed our enemy in wartime. Indeed, the book of Devarim – and subsequent works of the Bible – teaches us how to wage war: “you shall besiege the city” (ibid 20:12), which the Vilna Gaon explained to mean, “even to starve, thirst, kill, etc.” (Aderet Eliyahu). This is how wars end. That induces the vanquished to surrender. It defeats the purpose of a siege if we feed our enemies. So, which of their “deepest Jewish values” are they accessing in calling for nourishing our enemy? None, and that is the problem. It is not a Jewish value, and as Col. Spencer makes clear, it is not even a non-Jewish value. It is a leftist value, which has been mispresented and counterfeited as a Jewish value.

That distortion cannot be allowed to stand. The false prophets and dreamers of the Torah are those “who spoke perversions against God” (ibid 13:6), presenting as authentic something “that was never created and never existed” (Rashi), attributing to God things that He never said (Sforno). Good intentions do not excuse rank heresy and fabrications of Torah. How do we fight our wars? Actually, similar to how other nations have historically fought wars: “until submission” (ibid 20:20), until the enemy is completely subdued and docile. This is how wars end. If these rabbis do not like that, their “grumblings are not against us, but against Hashem” (Sh’mot 16:8) and His Torah.

The rabbis chastise Israel for our “blanket suspicion of the entire population of Gaza – children included – tarnished as future terrorists.” Yes, and on what basis do they assume that this is untrue? That has been Gaza’s history for almost eighty years, and terror emanating from Gaza was a constant from 1948-1967 while it was occupied by Egypt, from 1967-2005 after it was liberated by Israel, and from 2005 until today, when it had self-rule. Gazans are past terrorists, present terrorists, and future terrorists, and if there is evidence to the contrary – such as Gazans who accepted Israel’s offer of $5M and free passage out of Gaza to anyone providing information leading to the release of any Israel hostage – it should be proffered by these rabbis and other apologists. Yet, no Gazan accepted Israel’s offer. Many atrocities on October 7 were committed by alleged civilians, and many of our hostages were held for months by alleged civilians.

For what reason, therefore, are we expected to nourish the next generation of terrorists? Granted, the statement of “moral clarity” did not include even one Torah value, but if these “rabbis” were remotely sensible, and even slightly compassionate, they would be encouraging the evacuation of these Gazans to parts of the world that are not infested with terror and where they could have decent lives freed as much as possible from the Jew hatred on which they have been reared for generations. Rather, they willfully falsify the Torah, sentence these Gazans to a future of misery and Israelis to unending terror.

Worst of all, these “rabbis,” most of whom live outside of Israel, and some who arrived in Israel yesterday or the day before, have bolstered our enemies and endangered Jewish lives here and across the world by adopting our enemies’ propaganda and libels. Already, the “rabbis” statement has been picked up by the Arab press, by the European media, and by our global haters. When young Jews are harassed on campus, their tormentors will wave in their faces the declaration of the “rabbis.” It would have been disgraceful to adopt the enemy line if the accusations were true; it is truly contemptible when the accusations are false.

Since human nature never changes, it would not surprise me if there were French rabbis who supported the French military and joined the attacks on Alfred Dreyfus. After all, Dreyfus was convicted (twice), it was dutifully reported in all the newspapers of the day, and newspapers always just fairly report the news that is fit to print, and perhaps they wanted to be seen as good Frenchmen. “Rabbis Against Israel” is no different than “Rabbis Against Dreyfus.” In each case, the “rabbis” accept the words of our enemies and blame the Jew, or Jews. Same with the repetition of the enemy libel against the settlers of Judea and Samaria. Shameful, and truly the fulfillment of the rabbinic dictum that “he who is merciful to the cruel will eventually be cruel to the merciful” (Kohelet Raba 7:16).

Calling “rabbis” destroyers, false prophets, and dreamers is unpleasant, especially as the month of Elul is upon us. Yet, we are also taught (Berachot 19b), “wherever there is desecration of God’s name, one does not show respect even to the Rabbi.” When “rabbis” can proclaim that “our traumatic history of being victims of persecution” demands compassion and support for our enemies, their cheapening of Jewish suffering deserves no respect. Were Jews ever persecuted because we wantonly slaughtered innocent Gentile civilians? Raped women? Beheaded the elderly? Threw babies in ovens? Is that why we were persecuted, such that those experiences should inform our response to being invaded, massacred, and kidnapped? Such a statement is outrageous, insulting, absurd, and unworthy of anyone who would call himself (never mind, literally, herself) a “rabbi.” Shameful.

The line from shameful to despicable is crossed when we realize that the statement of these “rabbis” made no mention – NONE! – of the only people known to be starving in Gaza – our hostages. These are “rabbis”? It says everything we need to know that their exclusive concern is the wellbeing of our tormentors and their fake claims of starvation and not all our emaciated and tortured brethren being held against their will by a cruel, barbaric, and savage enemy elected to power by the very people they are demanding we feed.

And when the Chillul Hashem is compounded by the danger these rabbis have inflicted on the Jewish people, silence is impossible. Yes, they are “dreamers,” dreaming of a world of peace, brotherhood, and wealth for all, but we are not there, and only fools presume to act upon their dreams in a hostile world. I don’t doubt for a second that these “rabbis” were among the dreamy supporters of Oslo and the Gaza Expulsion, which helped foist these nightmares upon us.

The harm they inflicted on Israel and the Jewish people is incalculable, but here is some advice to these “rabbis.” You feel for the poor Gazans? Go feed them yourselves! Talk is cheap. If you really care, grab some boxes of pitot, and bottles of water, and go to Gaza. Go every day. But don’t go to the distribution centers – more food is in Gaza today than before the war. No, that would be too easy. Go to the encampments, go house to house, go tent to tent. Even better – go from tunnel to tunnel, bring food to our enemies, and maybe give some nourishment to our hostages whose plight – and absolute innocence – you ignore.

Certainly, no harm will befall you, because the Gazans, as you see it, are good and decent people who only want peace and tranquility, and who love everyone, and especially Jews. We will arrange safe passage for you into Gaza. As for getting out, you can rely on your kind hearts, your belief that all people are basically good, and your dreams of a better future. If you are confident in your moral standing, go to Gaza!

It might work, especially because our enemies love Jews who turn on Israel, always have, and unfortunately there is no shortage of them. Sadly, the people who will most notice your attacks on Israel are those who hate us. As for good Jews, and those trying to win a war against a pitiless, inhumane enemy to better protect our future, let us pray that they just ignore you. Enough with “rabbis” so farcically concerned about our souls that they cavalierly jeopardize our bodies.

The good news, as always, is that these types of “rabbis,” leaders, and thinkers have always existed, and we have survived their musings, their foolishness, and the damage they cause. In a world where every Tom, Dick, and Harriet claims to be a rabbi, we just have to choose our spiritual guides with caution and always assess their words through the prism of the Torah, whose divine values are eternal and unchanging.

Defining Pesach

(First published in the Jewish Link of New Jersey)

Generations of Jews, living under the most trying circumstances, surely asked themselves this probing question: how can we celebrate Pesach, the season of our freedom, when we are no longer free? We may no longer be slaves to Pharaoh but we were enslaved to Romans, Christians, Muslims, and Crusaders, to Inquisitors, Fascists, Nazis, and Communists. We were still tormented by evildoers such as Pope Urban II, Ferdinand and Isabella, Bogdan Chmielnicki, Al-Mahdi Ahmad (17th century Imam who banished the Jews from most of Yemen), Empress Maria Teresa, Czar Nicholas I, Hitler, Stalin, and too many others. What sort of freedom could their Jewish subjects celebrate on Pesach night? Why celebrate that we were once liberated?

Conversely, many wonder today how we recite in the Hagadah “now we are slaves; next year, we will be free.” With all our travails and even the looming threats, we are blessed from Above with living in a golden age of Jewish life. There are few Jews who are persecuted today, Jews live in the exile by choice, many Jews across the world are remarkably successful, and our reborn Jewish state is flourishing despite the evil designs of our enemies. How are we slaves? And how is the average Israeli supposed to relate to “we were slaves to Pharaoh in Egypt”? That condition is so far removed from his or her daily life as to be irrelevant.

In the exile, we were not free, and when we uttered “next year we will be free,” it was with hope tinged with resignation. Today, we are free, so with what sincerity can we state that “now we are slaves”? Either way, the night of Pesach requires a relatable definition. How is this night different from all other nights? What change did the Exodus introduce into Jewish life?

Pesach night is the moment in history when we were designated G-d’s Chosen People. It is why the kiddush at the seder is one of the required four cups and not just a regular kiddush for Yom Tov; after all, it begins blessing G-d “who chose us from all nations, exalted us above all cultures, and sanctified us through His commandments.” It is why we read Shir Hashirim on Pesach, that sublime and esoteric account of the eternal love between Hashem and His people. It is why “this day shall be a remembrance for you, and you shall keep it as a feast to G-d, throughout your generations… forever” (Shemot 12:14).

In the opening words of Kiddush – “who chose us from all the nations” – we proclaim the fundamental theme of the night and the purpose of the Exodus: that the Jewish people were chosen by G-d as His representatives on earth. Thus, on Pesach, we do not commemorate the past but revel in the chosenness of the moment. That chosenness is still extant and transcends any political situation. Jews who lived with appalling persecution found comfort (sometimes even wry humor) in our status as the Chosen People. Jews who live today under the most benign and prosperous conditions need to be reminded that the objective of our national life is not the accumulation of toys but the realization of the divine purpose for which we were designated.

As the Hagadah states, if G-d had not liberated us from Egypt, “we would still be slaves to Pharaoh.” Really? Yes, because even if the tyrant would not be Pharaoh himself, it would be someone or something else. There would be nothing special, unique, or chosen about us. We would be enslaved in Mitzrayim, the land of limits, in the degradation inherent in a vapid and godless life. We might have been free but we would not have been chosen. On Pesach night, we were chosen, and history was never the same.

Certainly, many Jews recoil from the notion of “chosenness,” preferring to dilute the concept by referring to our increased obligations or responsibilities. That is true, but G-d did not label us His “obligated people” or “responsible people” but His chosen people.

Chosenness means that we are intrinsically bound to G-d and to no human being. Rav Soloveitchick pointed out that the Hagadah underscores that “we were slaves to Pharaoh in Egypt,” rather than the simpler locution “we were Pharaoh’s slaves.” To be a “slave to” a tyrant is what you do; it is not who you are. A chosen people can never truly be slaves to any human being.

What does it mean to be chosen? Rav Ovadiah Sforno (commentary to Shemot 19:5-6) suggested that all nations are precious, but we are the most precious when we are the kingdom of priests that teaches all of mankind to turn to G-d and worship Him together. Our chosenness is inherently connected to our loyalty to Hashem. We are mandated to use our talents and culture to spread G-d’s word, to be an original source of light to the nations rather than a pale reflection of their progressive values and decadent behavior.

And because we are chosen, we will always have a unique history that defies human comprehension. Only we returned to our homeland after an exile of nearly two millennia. Only we are subjected to relentless hatred from across the globe – from left, right, and center, from the “religious” and the atheist. Only we can be brutalized, massacred, and kidnapped, and hear sundry voices find large audiences when saying, “well, maybe they deserved it.” No other group on earth is victimized and is forced to hear those rationalizations. It is because we are chosen – and need to find our voice, resolute and proud, defiant and strong, to articulate this to others.

On Pesach we were chosen by G-d as His people – and every Pesach must be the catalyst to embrace our chosenness and use it to redeem the world. Chag Kasher v’sameach!

You can purchase my book on Pesach entitled “Road to Redemption” and also receive a free downloadable overview to the Hagada from Kodesh Press. Do it today and have it in time for Pesach or ask for it at fine stores everywhere. Check out this link.

Haredim and the Living Torah

(First published yesterday at Israelnationalnews.com)

The endless debate over Haredi conscription into the IDF contains several especially vexing aspects. Neither side’s arguments are entirely convincing or easily discounted, even though each side thinks its contentions are dispositive and should end the discussion. There is merit on both sides, which should not preclude a decision. Politicians across the board are not necessarily seeking a resolution to this matter as their benefit accrues from stoking the flames and appealing to their respective bases. They enjoy the issue as a political football and the Haredim as convenient bogeymen, even as Haredim enjoy their status as defenders of the faith. Perhaps most intractable is that the two sides generally talk past each other as each possesses world views that are not only irreconcilable but also lack a common language.

Indeed, there are three world views that are represented in the debate: those who value army service but not Torah study, those who only value Torah study and not army service, and those who value both as proper expressions of being a complete Jew in the Jewish state. The discussions often have a ping- pong quality to them, contentions bouncing off each other but never fully countered. Each side assumes the righteousness and rectitude of its positions. There are Israelis who constantly complain about “kefiyah datit,” religious coercion, oblivious to the fact that their counterparts might perceive mandatory army service as “kefiyah chilonit,” secular coercion. In a perfect world, in my view, every Jew would spend time as a soldier and every soldier would spend time learning in a yeshiva – the former to teach us how to fight, the latter to teach us what we are fighting for.

What the Haredim tend to minimize in their commitment to full time Torah study is not just that such has almost never existed in Jewish life, at any time. Nor is it just blatant disregard of the Gemara’s declaration (Yevamot 109b) that “he who says he has only Torah does not even have Torah.” Learning Torah that is then not practiced – mitzvot, acts of kindness, concern for the welfare of others – is a most constricted and usually corrupted form of Torah. It is not a living Torah. But it is more than that self-imposed limitation. While secular Israelis trumpet the imperative of “shivyon banetel,” equality of burden that each citizen should embrace, religious Zionists have taken to advocating for “shivyon bizechut,” the equality of merit. Rav Shlomo Aviner has often noted that at least four mitzvot are fulfilled via military service – protection of Jewish life, settlement of the land of Israel, sanctification of G-d’s name, and not standing idly by while your brother’s life is endangered.

Rather than perceive IDF service as a burden it is far more edifying to perceive it as meritorious, a religious obligation that the State of Israel (and, I suppose, our bloodthirsty enemies who seek our destruction) has enabled us to fulfill for the first time in millennia. But what are the major arguments on both sides – and how can we find a harmonious way forward?

The major argument of the pro-draft contingent is quite simple and drawn from the Torah. When the tribes of Reuven and Gad wished to remain in Transjordan, presumably eluding the battle for the conquest of Israel, Moshe rebuked them: “Shall your brothers go to war, and you shall sit here?” (Bamidbar 32:6). Chastened, the tribal leaders responded that of course they would join the battle. Notice, though, how they did not tell Moshe that they would be learning Torah full time and thus should be exempt! Moshe would not have warmed to that idea – as he himself went to battle, as did Avraham, as did King David, as have many great Roshei Yeshivah and Torah scholars today.

I have yet to hear a cogent response to Moshe’s challenge, perhaps because if Moshe himself raised it, there is no cogent response. How can an entire group of people sit back and watch others fight, sacrifice, die – and not be ashamed? This is self-centeredness wrapped in the mantle of Torah. And if they do not fight, for whatever reason, how could they not want at least to do national service – even to teach Torah in places where such is lacking? When I learned in yeshiva in Israel almost fifty years ago, many of us joined the “civilian guard.” We were given rifles, rudimentary training, and went on anti-terror patrols once a week from 11:00 PM to 6:00 AM. Why did we join, American students all? We were expected to show up for minyan and seder the next morning, and our contribution to Israel’s security was probably slightly more than negligible. So, why? Because how could we not! How can one live in a society and not give back, not contribute to the common weal, not inconvenience oneself for the greater good?

In this context, the Gemara (Menachot 99a-b) states that “sometimes the dereliction of Torah is its foundation,” citing Moshe’s shattering of the tablets of law that G-d entrusted to him. But Rashi notes that the person who ceases his Torah study to perform acts of kindness is fulfilling the Torah on a broader level, and even “receives reward as if he is sitting and bolstering the Torah.” Nothing we did can compare to army service but what we did enhanced our Torah learning and did not detract from it.

If this is so obvious, then why isn’t it so … obvious? It is because the Haredi claims have merit as well and should not be cavalierly dismissed. They should, however, be analyzed and contextualized.

Haredim originally argued that a cadre of Torah scholars was necessary to replenish the Torah world after the Holocaust, but that is no longer essentially true. Torah scholarship has flourished here and it is one of the unique blessings of the State of Israel. Today, the arguments run that Talmud Torah is the “equivalent” of all other mitzvot (Peah 1:1); that Torah study “protects and saves” from misfortune and danger (Sotah 21a); that even Gentiles exempt clergy from military service; that Haredim are not the only ones in Israel who shirk military service – plenty of secular youth seek and receive “psychological” exemptions on dubious grounds; and that the controversy is usually contrived for ignoble political purposes, including now. All these arguments are true.

Added to that is the intentional exclusion of a larger group of Israeli citizens from military or national service – Israeli Arabs. What seems self-understood should actually give us pause. After all, India, founded in 1947 (one year before Israel’s independence) is a majority Hindu country with a 20% Muslim minority population, whose primary adversary is Muslim Pakistan – and yet, Indian Muslims are drafted into the military and fight against their co-religionists if necessary. That we assume Israeli Arabs are not sufficiently loyal to fight in our military carries implications that should be addressed, seriously, and soon. But it is puzzling why the greatest detractors of the yeshivah student’s exemption from military service seem untroubled by the exemption of Israeli Arabs from any type of service. They too benefit enormously from living in Israel.

The Haredi claims are not implausible but they deserve a response for the honor of Torah. Certainly, Talmud Torah is the equivalent of all the mitzvot but we do not therefore exempt the Torah scholar for the performance of all other mitzvot. “Keneged kulam” can also mean that Torah study reflects on all other mitzvot; the more we learn, the better our performance is apt to be. To dismiss the practical contributions to security of an army and to attribute our protection to the Torah alone is to confuse the proximate cause with the ultimate cause. The Torah mandates – and Ramban codified this as one of the 613 commandments – that we fight, conquer, and settle the land of Israel. We do not passively wait for assistance from Above, just like we seek out physicians for our medical problems, and just like we do not wait for manna to fall from heaven to feed us but work to sustain ourselves and our families. The Torah protects but it will not protect the person who sits down in the middle of a highway to learn. We must do our share. This is normative – this is the living Torah. It is true that the Torah protects; but such a belief is also unfalsifiable, and thus demands that we live in the physical and political reality of life.

This idea is corroborated by the experience of King David and Yoav, his Chief of Staff. The Gemara (Sanhedrin 49a) states that “were it not for David [and his Torah study], Yoav could not have been successful in battle, and were it not for Yoav [and his military prowess], David would not have been able to learn Torah.” But this is discussing an older King David, not the King David who frequently went to battle and saw no contradiction between the scholar and the soldier, whose life was the exemplar of the full Torah personality and is the model for the Messiah. Ideally, the two objectives are complementary and not mutually exclusive, and can be contained in the same person.

What must be uprooted is the mutual condescension that adheres to this issue, each side thinking it is superior to the other (because of the greatness of Torah study on the one hand and the necessity of military service on the other hand), and each side thinking the other is inferior (either because of the devaluing of Torah or the perceived selfishness in not serving). Yet, with all the value of prayer and Torah study, who is on a higher level – the one who donates a kidney or the one who prays that a sick patient should receive a kidney, the one who gives money to the poor or the one who learns Torah in the merit of the poor? The living Torah is a practical, not a mystical, plan for life.

What remains particularly inexplicable is the reluctance in much of the Haredi world to recite the prayer for the IDF, a disinclination for which I have never received a satisfactory explanation. That lacks in many things – ingratitude, for one – but also in an inability to share in the struggles of others. Those who have started saying it during the war are treated as if some cosmic breakthrough has been achieved rather than just behaving in a way that is normal. It is not helpful when certain Roshei Yeshivah speak contemptuously of the IDF, as if an army is unnecessary, as if any kind of support is “glorifying” the soldiers. This is poor theology and poor midot.

What compounds the problem even more is the new normal that Israeli society has adopted in the last year – that those who protest raucously and even violently, blocking roads and highways, acquire some measure of social and legal immunity, as if strident demonstrations convey automatic legitimacy to the cause that is the subject of the protests. Well, at least that was true for anti-government demonstrations; I wonder if it will be true for Haredi demonstrations. I think not.

With the abundance of valid contentions on all sides, what is the bottom line? It is the unspoken and primary reason for the Haredi reluctance to serve: the notion that they do not feel fully part of this polity and that the average Haredi could not survive spiritually outside the bubble in which they live. That is a sad admission, a failure of education and parenting, and tantamount to proclaiming that the Torah cannot be applied in the modern world. That is both false and embarrassing. Sure, the number of religious Zionists who go off the derech in the IDF is not insignificant and there is the persistent sense going back to the beginning of the State that the left’s interest in Haredi enlistment is less for the necessity of conscription and more for the necessity of assimilation.

Nevertheless, there are plenty of genuine bnai Torah who learn Torah, observe the mitzvot, serve with distinction, and are positive role models for those with whom they serve. Too many have been killed in combat in the last five months, still carrying their sefarim with them. Their Torah was also precious and their loss to our nation is grievous. The idea that we cannot remain pious Jews unless we live in an insulated community that guards us against interactions even with other Jews is preposterous and an indictment of the Torah. And even that fear can be assuaged by the establishment of separate Haredi units, such as already exist with Netzach Yehudah.

Weighing all considerations, on balance Haredim should serve because it is right that they serve! Sevara hu, lama li kra? It is so rational that a verse is unnecessary. How could they not? “Shall your brothers go to war, and you shall sit here?” Failure to serve is the repudiation of a living Torah. We are no longer evading the Czar’s draft. Obviously, coercion will not succeed – no one benefits from having reluctant, disinclined, and unenthusiastic warriors. Jailing offenders also will not work; one can learn Torah in prison as well. What must happen is that the Haredi rabbinic leadership, whoever they are and regardless of their stature vis-à-vis their predecessors, must speak of the State of Israel, the people of Israel and the army of Israel as values, worthy of being embraced by all. IDF service should not have to be concealed from their public and is not an indication of second-rate spiritual status. On the contrary, it is a sign of a first-rate spiritual and Torah sensibility.

We cannot expect goodwill from all sides; too many have a vested interest in prolonging this dispute. But there is a problem if Yoav Galant can declare that the Torah protected us “in the exile,” as if the Torah doesn’t protect us here. There is a problem if Haredim and others, for sundry reasons, have been unable to convey the immense value of Torah to the general society – of Torah study, mitzvot, the prophetic vision of our return to Israel, the providential nature of the modern State of Israel, and the redemptive process underway before our eyes. If we roughly categorize our society by three groups – “secular,” “religious nationalist,” and “Haredi,” each group has its virtues and challenges, each group has what to contribute to society, and each group has what it can learn from the others. And each group has shared obligations to preserve and nourish the spiritual and national destiny of the Jewish people.

As Haredim multiply in number, kain yirbu, it is natural and proper that their national lives will take on a greater focus and their societal contributions increase commensurately. We are not in the position to hire Hessians or even the Wagner Group to defend us. We must all share the merit of building and sustaining our national home. That is the objective of the living Torah.