Rabbi Rael Blumenthal

Every Friday night since October 7th, just before we make Kiddush, my family and I turn to face the Shabbos candles (שו”ע או”ח רעא:י בהג”ה) and join together in Tefillah.

We ask Hashem to keep our soldiers safe, and to grant them a swift and conclusive victory. We ask Him to heal all of our brothers and sisters who have been injured in this war.

We ask Hashem to bring the hostages home.

Right next to the Shabbos candles, my wife placed a digital photo screen. It doesn’t have pictures of our vacations or celebrations. It’s a slideshow displaying the faces and names of the hostages.

They’ve become part of our family. We see their faces as often as we see our own, and every Friday night, we daven for them together. Our kids sometimes ask us how they're doing; if they have been rescued and when they're coming home.

Hersh. Eden. Almog. Ori. Alex. Carmel.

These are the ones who are not coming home this week.

But there are still more than a hundred that we are all waiting for.

Our family has chosen to daven for them just before we make Kiddush because Chazal teach us that when we make Kiddush, we are partnering with Hashem in the recreation of the world. The Yesod Tzadik of Zhevill explains therefore, that this is the best time of the week for us to ask Hashem to make changes in our lives. After all, partners are allowed to negotiate the terms of a deal before proceeding.

The Ohr Hachaim HaKadosh writes that the world was only ever created to last for six days at a time. On Shabbos, every Shabbos, Hashem renews the lease on the world.

Tragically, last week, our requests were denied; and our world has been smothered by a suffocating darkness as Klal Yisrael attends the funerals and listens to the heart wrenching eulogies.

The Sod Yesharim of Izhbitz explains that we have a term in Halacha for this overwhelming sadness – it’s called Tumas Meis – the impurity of death, which has been forced up us. It’s the most severe and debilitating form of impurity, holding us back from coming closer to each other and closer to Hashem.

As individuals and as a nation, we are feeling sullied, violated and broken. And from this place of pain, for the first time since October 7th we, the Jewish people, seem to be falling apart.

Naturally, the news outlets have been all too excited to report the size of the protests that have erupted in Tel Aviv and the strikes around the country.

The brutal murder of six innocent hostages last week is threatening to reignite the divisiveness that we have all been desperate to avoid. Jews are blaming Jews for this horror and the political rifts appear to be widening.

A friend of mine in Israel told me that this week that it’s starting to feel like October 6th again. That’s a frightening thought, because there is no-one that believes we will be more successful if we’re divided. And yet, we can’t seem to help ourselves.

On one side, there are families of hostages who are fearing for the lives of their loved ones still held captive by merciless terrorists. They want a deal now.

On the other side are soldiers, reservists and grieving families who have risked their lives and paid the ultimate price to defeat Hamas. They want to finish the war.

I am not a politician and I am not an expert on the strategies of warfare. I will not pretend to know what the State of Israel should do to resolve all this pain and heartbreak.

But regarding these divisions that are threatening to unravel us Rav Kook (אורות התחיה כה) has a perspective that I’ve been clinging to, as we mark 89 years since his passing on 3 Elul.

סמוך לעקבא דמשיחא מתרבה סגולת האחדות באומה, המעשים הטובים והדעות והאור האלהי הנמצאים בצדיקים פועלים על קדושת הכלל יותר מבשאר הזמנים. טמונה היא סגולה זו במטמון של קטיגוריא ומריבות, אבל תוכו רצוף אהבה ואחדות נפלאה, שמעוררת הרגשה כללית לצפיה לתשועת הגוי כולו.

Close to the time of Mashiach there will be an overwhelming increase in our national unity. The positive actions, thoughts and Godly light that are usually found in the lives of Tzadikim are activated throughout the nation at these times. This beauty is, however, hidden behind a veil of accusations and arguments. But inside there is only love, and wondrous unity that awakens the collective desire for national redemption.

Can you see it?

These painful fights erupting in Israel are not about religion or secularism. Beneath it all, they are not about right wing or left wing politics.

Of course, on the surface, we cannot agree on how to act. Despite the best of intentions, our thoughts are clouded by ego, affiliations, and frustrations that predate October 7th.

But Rav Kook is opening a window into the soul of our nation. At our core, Klal Yisrael is deeply united on the existential need to destroy our enemies; and at the same time, the obligation to save every Jewish life.

Sometimes, when we cannot see the depth of our shared destiny, our enemies remind us. The Megillah tells us that when Haman hatched his plot to murder Klal Yisrael, he claims: “ישנו עם אחד מפוזר ומפורד” – “There is one nation, scattered and divided...”

In his notes on Purim (מאמרי הראי”ה עמ’ 155), Rav Kook notes that this contradiction is central to our national legacy:

באמת מפוזר ומפורד הוא העם האחד אבל בכל זה עם אחד הוא ושמא תאמר איך יתכן שיהיו שני הפכים אחד עם אחד מצד אחד ומפוזר ומפורד מצד השני אל תתמה על החפץ ישנם פלאים בעולם והעם הזה שכל עמידתו בעולם מרופדת היא בפלאי פלאות הוא מראה בהוייתו גם כן את הפלא הזה ובמהותו העצמית הרי הוא עם אחד למרות מה שהוא מפוזר ומפורד

Indeed, we are are both “scattered and divided” and still “One Nation.” Don’t be surprised by this; there are wonders in our world. The Jewish nation’s entire existence is always hanging in the balance, and yet, somehow, we continue to survive. That same infinite nation can be both divided and united at the same time.

Our essence is to defy the odds; to defy the rules of nature. Somehow, in the infinitude of Jewish existence, there is still a way to bring the hostages home and defeat Hamas. It’s all still possible, with different Jews each holding up the values of a different side of battlefront. While no single person can see the way forward, Klal Yisrael can.

This perspective is not simple conjecture; it’s a bonafide obligation in our Parsha:

כִּי־תֵצֵא לַמִּלְחָמָה עַל־אֹיְבֶךָ וְרָאִיתָ סוּס וָרֶכֶב עַם רַב מִמְּךָ לֹא תִירָא מֵהֶם

When you go out against your enemies, and see horses and chariots — forces larger than yours — have no fear of them...

The Vilna Gaon (אדרת אליהו שם) notes that the Torah could have dispensed without telling us that we go to war “against our enemies.” But the Torah is cautioning us: Even though you come from different tribes, fight your enemies, not each other. Then you will have nothing to fear.

This Shabbos, as we raise our Kiddush cups, we will once again have a chance to partner with Hashem in Creating the World. Our avoda, as we look into the light of the Shabbos candles, is to see ourselves and each other a part of something much bigger; sparks of a much greater light.

In turn, Hashem should grant us the ability to see beyond the veil of politics and pain to the victory and unity that is inside of us, waiting to be revealed.