From the Ashes of Av to the Hope of Elul: Israel’s Ever-Evolving Story

This is the last Shabbat of Av.

We are at a moment of transition, standing at the threshold between the month of Av and the new month of Elul that awaits us.

The fierce, destructive heat is already lifting — a cool wind softens the edges of the city.

Av is also the month when we mourn the destruction of the Temple, when we remember the flames that consumed not just stone and wood, but a way of life, a home, a sense of belonging. It is the month when our ancestors were scattered to the four corners of the earth, thrust into a diaspora that would stretch on for centuries, through exile and persecution, through wandering and yearning.

Our story is one of incredible complexity, woven with threads of suffering, survival, and a relentless hope. For nearly two thousand years, we have been the people who carried the memory of Jerusalem in our hearts, no matter how far we were from its walls. We survived the brutality of the Crusades, the terror of the Inquisition, the pogroms that ravaged our communities, and the unspeakable horrors of the Holocaust, and our exile from Arab lands.

Each time we were knocked down, we stood up again, dusted ourselves off, and kept moving forward—because that’s what we do. We survive, and we dream.

But now, here we are—living in a time our ancestors could only imagine in their wildest dreams. Israel is no longer just a prayer, whispered with longing at the end of every seder, or a tear-streaked hope at the end of every Yom Kippur. It is a reality. A living, breathing, complex reality. Even in the midst of this relentless war, as we wait for news of our hostages.

And let’s be honest—Israel isn’t perfect. We’ve made mistakes. We’ve stumbled and faltered as we’ve tried to balance the idealism of our ancient texts with the gritty realities of modern statehood. We’ve faced impossible choices, and we haven’t always gotten them right. But the story of Israel isn’t about being perfect—it’s about striving. Striving to build a society rooted in justice, even when it’s hard. Striving to be a light unto the nations, even when our own light flickers.

As the month of Av ends and we enter Elul, the month when “the King is in the field,” we are invited to step into that field ourselves, to meet the Divine in the messiness of our lives. This is a time of reflection, a time to take stock of where we’ve been and where we’re going. It’s a time to embrace the complexity of our history and our present, to acknowledge the pain and the mistakes, but also to celebrate the miracles and the progress.

Today, the Hebrew language that once echoed only in prayer is spoken on the streets, in homes, in bustling marketplaces. The land that was barren is now blooming with life. We are building something incredible here—a society that, despite its flaws, is a testament to the resilience and dreams of our people.

As we move into this new month, let’s carry with us the lessons of Av, the dreams of our ancestors, and the determination to keep striving, to keep building, to keep dreaming. Because the story of Israel is still being written, and it’s a story that belongs to all of us.