Long ago,[i] a man named Jacob worried about an impending attack. An ancient enemy headed his way alongside 400 armed men. Jacob first sent his family to safety across the Jabbok River. As he gathered his final possessions, ready to cross the river himself, he ran out of time. Darkness fell. Jacob found himself alone, all by himself, when a stranger appeared. That stranger and Jacob wrestled throughout the night. As dawn approached, the stranger pleaded with Jacob to let him go. He replied, “I will not let you go until you bless me.” The stranger answered, “Your name will no longer be Jacob, but Israel, for you have wrestled with beings divine and human and have prevailed.”[ii]
Jacob is our namesake. We are called Israel, for we Jews wrestle with the divine, with fellow human beings, and with ourselves. As Rabbi Shai Held teaches, “To wrestle with God’s word is to ask ourselves – even and especially when it is uncomfortable – what it is that God asks of us in the present moment.”[iii] Over the course of these High Holy Days, I seek to answer the question, “How do I be a Jew in this moment?” Last night, I spoke about being in community. My answer this morning: “to be a Jew is one who wrestles.”
One person who helped me with my personal wrestling is the author, Joshua Leifer. This summer, I read his book, “Tablets Shattered: The End of an American Jewish Century and the Future of Jewish Life.” Leifer believes that American Jews are living in what he calls the diasporic double bind. This means whether we like it or not, we are inescapability connected to Israel. Leifer writes, “As long as the state of Israel exists, American Jews will find themselves pulled within its orbit.”[iv]
He proves this point through sheer demographics. Today, Israel is home to 7 million Jews, while 6 million live in America. By 2050, there will only be 5 million Jews in the US with over 8 million in Israel. For the first time in over 2 millennia, a majority of Jews will live in a sovereign Jewish state. Israel has already begun to displace the United States as the focal point of World Jewry.[v] As the war in Gaza continues, whether we like it or not, we are pulled into the orbit of Israel.
Our ancient rabbis were fascinated by Jacob’s wrestling. They spent countless hours debating the identity of that nighttime stranger. Did Jacob wrestle an angel? God? His brother Esau? Or was it someone else? Beresheit Rabbah,[vi] the great commentary on Genesis, teaches: “the stranger appeared to Jacob in the image of a shepherd. The stranger had sheep, just like Jacob had sheep. The stranger had camels, just like Jacob had camels. The stranger said to Jacob, ‘I’ll pass over the river, just like you will pass over the river.’” Who was this stranger, so similar to Jacob? It was Jacob wrestling himself.
Like Jacob, we Jews wrestle with ourselves. As Jacob fought with himself, so to do we, American Jews and Israelis often clash with each other. Even more difficult is the fact that the relationship between Israel and the diaspora isn’t always reciprocal. American Jews must struggle with the reality that Israel’s actions impose a burden upon us, but we do not exert the same power over our Israeli brethren.[vii] So what do we do?
The first option is to walk
away. More and more members of our
Jewish community want nothing to do with Israel. I’m saddened by how many wish to dissolve all
ties between their Jewishness and Israel.
I’m challenged by those who see Israel only as a Goliath, as a bully. Earlier this September, I met with a few
members of our congregation who are struggling.
One member even left our synagogue because of our connection to
Israel. All shared that for them a red
line had been crossed. They were done. The actions of the Israeli government,
whether the famine in Gaza, the lack of water and necessities, the indiscriminate
bombings, the ongoing occupation, or the lack of perceived effort towards a
cease-fire were just too much. They were so troubled by Israel’s actions that
they were unsure if they could remain a Jew.
A second option is to believe that
Israel can do no wrong. Throughout our
organized Jewish community, too many never question any of Israel’s actions. Many doubt the media. They might counter every argument about the
events in Gaza with differing facts.
Many believe that Israel can do any action it pleases regardless of the
consequences to innocent Palestinians. I’m
saddened that when a famine occurs in Sudan or a bombing occurs to civilians in
Ukraine, we speak up. But, when innocent
Palestinians are hurting and hungry, many in our Jewish community say not a
word.
There is a third option to navigate
this moment: denial. Many of us do our
best to ignore what is happening in Gaza and in Israel. We might refrain from watching the news. We scan the headlines, but don’t learn the
details of what is going on. We pretend
that what’s happening across the world has no bearing on our lives. Denial can go both ways. We can deny that Israel is doing anything
right. We can also deny that Israel is
doing anything wrong. We can deny Hamas’
role in this war. We can also deny that Israel
has at times acted unjustly. I think
most of us are in denial because the situation is just too complex. It’s much easier to put our heads in the sand
and to deny that anything is wrong.
Sometimes we chose one of these options and sometimes we take a little bit of this and a little bit of that. Honestly, I believe all of these options are missing something important: wrestling. We aren’t wrestling!
A few weeks ago, I hosted 12 local
rabbis at Bolton Street Synagogue who sat down with Shira Ben Sasson Furstenberg,
the Associate Director of the New Israel Fund.
Since 1979, the New Israel Fund (NIF) has worked to strengthen civil
society in Israel: supporting women, LGBTQ people, religious minorities like
Reform Judaism, and Palestinians. As you
can imagine, this has been a difficult three years for NIF, from the judicial
overhaul, to the immediate needs after October 7th, to the long Gaza
war.
Shira Ben Sasson Furstenberg shared with
us a recent, and shocking, Israeli poll result. 61% of Israelis do not believe there are any
innocent Gazans. 61%! That’s shocking because this includes
children, babies, and the elderly. And
yet, at the same time, thousands upon thousands of new Israeli donors have
donated to NIF for the sole purpose of providing food to hungry Gazans. NIF has been able to provide three times the
number of grants than before October 7th to help Israelis and Palestinians
as well as strengthen Israeli democracy.
Shira shared that what Israel needs right now is healing. Healing for the Israeli political system, healing for the hostage families, healing for Israeli soldiers fighting in this long war, and healing for all in innocent Gazans in harm’s way. I heard Shira’s call loud and clear. If we’re not going to respond by walking away, or believing that Israel can do no wrong, or living in denial, our role as American Jews can help Israel heal. We can donate to Progressive Zionist organizations, we can speak out in a loud voice at rallies, we can stay informed, and we can wrestle with the complexity of this war. We can help our Israeli friend and family, and help ourselves be healed.
For we need healing too. This war is tearing our Jewish community apart. We are screaming at one another. The temperature continues to rise with the language of violence permeating our conversations. We are dividing ourselves into two communities.
A few years ago, Natan Sharansky and Gil Troy wrote an article in Tablet Magazine in which they call Jews who are avowedly Anti-Zionist, “Un-Jews.” [viii] As they write, “We call these critics “un-Jews” because they believe the only way to fulfill the Jewish mission of saving the world with Jewish values is to undo the ways most actual Jews do Jewishness. They are not ex-Jews or non-Jews, because many of them are and remain deeply involved Jewishly, despite their harsh dissent.”
This division between “Jews” and “Un-Jews” is not new. In the Babylonian Talmud,[ix] our rabbis over fifteen-hundred years ago, called those Jews who were outside their circle Amei Haaretz which we often translate as the uneducated. The rabbis saw Amei Haaretz as a threat because they observed Judaism and ritual practices differently than they did. The rabbis were so worried about Amei Haaretz that they forbid one another to eat at the same table, to live in the same neighborhood, to marry one another, and even justified violence against them. Coexistence was not possible.[x]
Deborah Barer, at the Shalom Hartman Institute, connects this ancient struggle to our modern moment: “We have been operating from a sense of threat... We have closed ranks in order to protect that which we hold most dear, and in doing so, we have framed a conversation as a dispute between us and them, between the “Jews” and the “un-Jews,” rather than as an exploration of what is and what should be, of what is possible and how to build it.”[xi]
This is such a difficult time. It’s often much easier to divide ourselves into our different camps instead of wrestling with what is and what should be. It seems simpler to spout out our own facts, terms, or opinions, instead of discussing together what is possible and how to build it. For Israel is in an existential crisis. Missiles reign down on its cities, and we’re still waiting for the hostages to come home. And at the same time, thousands of innocent children and the elderly have been killed by Israel’s bombs, while too many Gazans are starving. Our dream of vibrant home for the Jewish people living peacefully with her neighbors seems so far away.
Rabbi Jonathan Sacks teaches: “[The] path chosen by [Jacob] is not for the fainthearted… It is not easy to face our fears and wrestle with them, refusing to let go until we have turned them into renewed strength and blessing.”[xii] If we believe Israel is always in the wrong, we aren’t wrestling. If we believe that Israel is always in the right, we aren’t wrestling. If we can’t respect and hear differing opinions, we aren’t wrestling.
We are called Israel. It’s the name of our people and it’s the name
of our land. We are not the ones who
walk away. We are not the ones who
forego our ethical responsibilities. We
are not the ones who deny what is happening.
We are the ones who wrestle. Wrestling
is not easy. Jacob was wounded in that
nighttime attack and forever after he walked with a limp. Our wrestling is not for the fainthearted and
there might be wounds. But wrestling is
what we do. We are the ones who wrestle with ideas. We are the ones who wrestle
with each other. We are the ones wrestle
with ourselves. For we are Israel: the
Ones who wrestle. Amen.
[i]
Genesis 32:24-33
[ii]
Genesis 32:29
[iii]
Rabbi Shai Held, “Judaism is About Love,” p. 191
[iv]
“Tablets Shattered: The End of an American Jewish Century and the Future of
Jewish Life,” by Joshua Leifer, p. 209
[v] “Tablets
Shattered,” p. 210 - 219
[vi]
Beresheit Rabbah 77:2
[vii]
“Tablets Shattered,” p. 210
[viii] https://www.tabletmag.com/sections/news/articles/the-un-jews-natan-sharansky
[ix] “When
Community Becomes a Zero-Sum Game: Lessons from a Troubling Talmudic Text” by
Deborah Barer, in Sources: A Journal of Jewish Ideas: Summer 2025, p.
85-88
[x] “When
Community Becomes a Zero-Sum Game…,” p. 87
[xi] “When
Community Becomes a Zero-Sum Game…,” p. 91
[xii]
Rabbi Jonathan Sacks, “Covenant and Conversation, Genesis: The Book of
Beginnings,” p. 241
