Over 100 days have passed since October 7th. The world is shifting on its axis.
Or maybe it’s some planetary earthquake. We’re falling, flying, tumbling in turmoil (thank you, Paul Simon). We are holding on, as tightly as we can, to the ship’s railing, the plane’s armrests, and the grab handle above the door. The turbulence is awful.
Even the scariest roller coaster comes to a smooth and safe landing. But as we glance around for the comforting red glow of the exit sign, we see nothing but darkness, and the ride isn’t slowing down. I could use some training wheels, but not even Amazon carries them.
It’s feeling awfully precarious. Two days ago, I read a list of potential wars in the offing. I won’t even give you the link, lest it bathe you in the bitter waters of despair. But it shook me up.
An adolescent girl hid from the Nazis in Amsterdam and wrote in her diary, “In spite of everything, I still believe that people are really good at heart.” Of course, this turned out not to be the case. Her family was betrayed, and only her father survived the Holocaust. But she never lost hope. Until the end, hope kept her sane and alive.
In solitary confinement, Natan Sharansky endured harsh conditions. He spent long periods in a small, isolated cell, faced extreme cold, and had limited access to necessities. And yet, he survived: with hope, with Psalms, with the game of chess playing repeatedly in his head.
There are hundreds – thousands – millions of examples from our ancestors who held on even in the most extreme circumstances. Some saw redemption, and others did not. But all of them – all of us – have a heritage of hope. We have a long history of wars, fear, and sadness. And we have an unbreakable spirit.
We have to double down on that message of resilience and historical grit. We send our love, hope, and donations to the Israeli families waiting for word of their loved ones on the Gaza battlefields and the hostages in the hellish tunnels. We gather as a congregation to support each other with love and steadfastness, looking ahead to our potential to provide a handhold and open our hearts and doors to provide some shelter from the storm.
Before Shabbat 