Is This Our Religion? Can Haredim invest 100% ?

I love my family.  My extended family as well as my immediate family.

Over the years my children and myself have developed close relationships with my relatives, and specifically with one set.  We are in touch and we try to keep up with the goings on in each other’s lives, but there have been obstacles —

They define themselves as Haredi.

I am a Modern Orthodox Jew (Dati Leumi). We have different ways of life, but we pretty much manage to “accept” one another.  Except for a number of things:

They will not eat in my house, nor come for Shabbat.

I accepted it, with the inherent pain and frustration, due to a deep desire to keep up the family connection. The fact that I really felt their love for me and they felt mine for them, made it somewhat tolerable.

The proverbial straw has just broken the camel’s back:

There was recently a brit for a new baby boy.  I was invited and planned to go.  The night before the brit I phoned the father of the new baby boy (one of my relatives) and said:

“I know that I cannot expect you to say the tefilah (prayer) for the chayalim (soldiers) of the IDF (Israel Defense Forces).  To which he replied with a chuckle that he might get stoned for saying the prayer.  I replied that he should not really care what others think, if he feels it is the right thing to do.  But, I knew that was a futile request.

So I continued: “since we are going through such a difficult period here in Israel, young men are dying almost every day, there are so many soldiers in hospitals fighting for their lives and/or working hard to recover from injuries, would you please say a perek of Tehilim (a chapter of Psalms) for the soldiers?” The time of the brit (like other Jewish ritual ceremonies) is an עת רצון (a very conducive time for prayers to be accepted and fulfilled).

I decided to ask for something neutral and universally accepted, a perek of Tehilim.  Tehilim is probably one of the few things any and every Jew has said at one time or another.  It is part of the Canon of the Bible and is said often, and in many varied circumstances; especially for the healing of a sick person and/or for the protection of someone in any kind of danger. A lot of Haredim even claim that they say Tehilim for our soldiers every day.

Unfortunately, there was no real response.  We hung up with polite pleasantries.

The next morning I arranged my schedule to get to the brit early, so as not to miss the short ceremony.

It began, and it was over.  Needless to say, no perek of Tehilim was said.

I spoke to my other relatives there with warmth and kindness, but I couldn’t really face the reality that I had just experienced.

I said my goodbyes and got into my car to drive home.  I wanted to cry.

This wasn’t the first time that the whole topic of the chareidi draft has come up.  This, too, we have “spoken” about.

I am actually part of a group of women, where each woman has a family member(s), 5 to be exact in my case, that have done, are doing, and will have to do, miluim (reserve duty). This  group is fighting the established rules of the Haredi draft (or non-draft) by putting pressure on the Knesset members, demonstrating, and working hard to seek fairness in our society.

We know this is a very large burden on our young people, yet the general Haredi population, led by people who feel they can take from the state but not share the burden with all of us, refuses to share in this burden.

They feel that learning Torah is their way of protecting our people, and that “others” should: risk their lives, be away from their families, miss out on semesters of school, be absent from their jobs and businesses, and their Torah learning (yes, many of our serving chayalim learn Torah and are serious scholars). Tens of thousands of young healthy men feel it is ok to not serve, while the ones who do, have done many rounds of duty since Oct. 7th.

I was devastated.  I could not get this out of my head and heart the entire Shabbat.

After Shabbat, I phoned the father of the new baby, just to make sure I did not miss anything.  Maybe I was mistaken and they did, after all, say it.

“Hi, shavua tov.  How are you? How is the baby? I just want to make sure, did you by any chance say that perek of tehilim I had asked you to say?” (I am also not quite sure why I had to ask for it to be said).

These days almost everyone mentions something about the war/pain/suffering, and/or says a prayer for the safety of our chayalim and for the recovery of our injured, and for the return of our hostages. And many recite a perek or 2 of tehilim – at almost any kind of gathering.

His reply: “Well, I had to ask my Rav (Rabbi).  I couldn’t do anything without checking with him.”  This already blew my mind that he could not think on his own. He continued, that his rav told him not to say the tehilim, not to change the ceremony of the brit (the צורה) by adding tehilim, but rather to silently have all the chayalim in mind when I recited “אנא ה’ הושיעה נא, אנא ה’ הצליחה נא”.

I politely said goodbye, and silently asked myself, “who are these people? “

One Jew asks another Jew to say a chapter of Tehilim for the young men and women that are protecting all of the inhabitants of this land, that are protecting all the young men that sit comfortably in a Beit Midrash (study hall) heated/air-conditioned with 3 meals a day, and a bed at night to sleep in, in their own home, with their family, and they just can’t do it.

Really?

I am an optimist. At least, for sure, I used to be. I honestly thought one perek of Tehilim would be recited.

I can’t fathom at the moment how to connect with them.  Their own family, along with hundreds of thousands of others, are risking their lives for them, and they can’t say one perek of Tehilim when the divine gates are open a bit wider?

So why am I writing all of this? To bring awareness, to break the silence and boundaries of what we, as mother’s and relatives of soldiers are feeling. Maybe when we voice the pain, just maybe we can then bridge the gap between the two parties.