Where What When

We Are Tired

We Are Tired

by Rabbi Moshe Hauer, 15 Teves 5767

On June 9, 2005, in a widely covered speech given in New York to the Israel Policy Forum, Ehud Olmert – then vice-premier of the State of Israel – declared:

We are tired of fighting, we are tired of being courageous, we are tired of winning, we are tired of defeating our enemies, we want that we will be able to live in an entirely different environment of relations with our enemies. We want them to be our friends, our partners, our good neighbors.

These are alarming words. A nation at war cannot allow itself to capitulate to fatigue. Of course we are tired. But we cannot afford to allow our fatigue to manipulate us into wishful thinking. We certainly want to live in an entirely different environment, and we want our neighbors to be our friends. But the fact that we are tired of fighting does not make them our friends and certainly does not make our wish any closer to reality.

I am not writing this note to politicians or to statesmen. I am not trying here to influence Israeli decision-makers or American diplomats. I am writing to you, my fellow Jews, whose efforts on the battlefield of Jewish survival are most often waged by our favorite and best weapon, heartfelt prayer to our Creator. I am writing to you because I am afraid that you – like me – are tired. We are tired of saying tehilim; we are tired of trying to find creative ways to continue the spiritual fight for our lives; we are tired of treating each day and prayer with the intensity of wartime. And our fatigue makes us vulnerable to wishful thinking, to seeing in the current “quiet” an end to the tragic intensity of the recent past. We must not let that happen.

Indeed, the past seven years have been intense. From the beginning of the second Intifada, on Rosh Hashana 5761, and through this summer’s war on two fronts, the Jewish People have faced an unending series of attacks and bombings, injuries and funerals. And we – as Moshe did in the first war waged by the Jewish People (Shemos 17:8-13) – have watched from our distant perch, raising our hands and our eyes to the Heavens, giving our brothers and sisters on the battlefield the spiritual support that would enable them to prevail. And we – like Moshe – have gotten tired.

But we can scarcely afford to be tired. The battles of the summer may have ended, but the war most certainly goes on. Rockets continue to fall on Sderot, effectively wearing down that city’s inhabitants to the point where they are considering a voluntary extended evacuation. The range of the rockets has grown to the point where Israel is expanding its protected zone to include cities like Ashkelon, which is expected to shortly face the same kinds of ongoing attacks currently experienced by Sderot. Islamic fundamentalism – with its crazed and non-negotiable hatred of Israel and the Jews – is spreading like wildfire. Not to mention our immediate neighbors, the Hamas-governed Palestinians. Consider Lebanon, Syria, Jordan, Saudi Arabia, Egypt, Iraq – and of course Iran. The region is nothing short of volcanic, apparently on the verge of eruption. The threats we face have not receded one whit since the summer’s hostilities “ended.” The battles ended, but the war has hardly begun. We cannot afford to be tired.

But we are. And, like Moshe, we will have to continue anyway. And so, like Moshe, we will need to figure out how to keep those tiring arms raised in prayer. Maybe, like Moshe, we need a stone to sit on. Our Sages taught us that Moshe did not choose the stone to serve as a cushion, as a softer seat could certainly have been found. Rather Moshe chose the stone specifically for the discomfort that it would provide, as nothing would keep Moshe as energized as a constant reminder of the suffering of those for whom he was praying.

Indeed, it behooves each of us to create in our own daily lives similarly vivid reminders of our current national state of affairs. Perhaps each of us should consider designating a “stone” of our own, abstaining from a specific indulgence or activity – or limiting it to the Shabbos – thereby creating enough of a sense of discomfort so as to maintain our awareness and energies.

Perhaps, like Moshe, we need to find two friends who can join us, supporting our tiring arms on either side. Couldn’t each of us consider choosing a chavrusa for tefila – a prayer partnership – sharing with one or with a small group of friends or family members the goal of maintaining a high level of engagement in the spiritual efforts for our People’s future? Could we not support each other in this way, providing a framework for each of us to continue our spiritual efforts refreshed and strengthened?

We are tired, but we cannot surrender to fatigue. Indeed, simply continuing the “same old” wartime routines that we have grown accustomed to will not do it. This is not the time for resignation, but for rededication. We must refresh! Each of us must effectively reinvigorate our efforts to connect to Klal Yisrael and to G-d, allowing our spiritual efforts to truly flourish.

We must not tire.

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Article List - February 2007