It’s not normal

As we transition from Yom Kippur to Sukkot, I reflect on how different this year’s prayers feel. My wife’s comment struck me deeply—prayers that once seemed less relevant now carry a poignant resonance. The prayer for the release of hostages.

At the high point of the Yom Kippur service, the High Priest offers a prayer that has become more meaningful in today’s reality: a plea for compassion, for a year of peace, tranquility, and self-sufficiency, where Israel need not depend on others, but where the blessing comes from the work of our own hands.

“A prayer that will open up a good store for us. A prayer which will save our community. A year in which your compassion will be awakened towards us. A year of peace and tranquility. A year in which you will bring us upright in our land.” A prayer, a cry to God.

In ancient times, our reliance on God and the weather was absolute. Though modern Israel has triumphed over many challenges, such as water scarcity with desalination and advanced water technologies, we are still vulnerable. The vulnerability we face today, in the face of violence and loss, is simply not normal.

It’s not normal that a direct missile strike hit an elderly home in Herzliya. It’s not normal that on Erev Yom Kippur, three brave soldiers died defending our land from evil enemies. It’s not normal that one million Israelis spent this holiest day under the constant threat of war in bomb shelters.

It is not normal after Israel warned UNIFIL  to evacuate because it was being used by Hezbollah to launch attacks on innocent civilians. And then, when Israel had to attack these positions—we faced international condemnation. The U.S., France, Spain, and the UK were quick to criticize, as usual, but no one called for accountability from the Lebanese or Gazans to cease their aggression. Instead, the world speaks of ceasefires, de-escalation, and even arms embargoes on Israel while we defend our lives. This is not normal.

It’s not normal that UNRWA should be nominated for the Nobel Peace Prize. Maybe we should nominate UNIFIL for allowing Hezbollah to occupy South Lebanon and to build terror tunnels under their noses in violation of UN resolution 1701.

As we move into the fragile booths of Sukkot, the juxtaposition is striking. Many Israelis are displaced and forced into bomb shelters daily, and that, too, is not normal. Even worse, 101 hostages are being held in unknown, unthinkable conditions, with no access allowed or news of their conditions. Shame on you, the Red Cross. The world’s double standards are not normal. We live in a state of vulnerability, exposed to the dangers surrounding us.

During this time, we read the Book of Ecclesiastes (Kohelet), written by King Solomon, which offers profound reflections on life’s seasons. “A time to be born, a time to die; a time for war and peace.” Yet we find ourselves still in a “time for war.” The struggle Israel faces today is not new. In many ways, we are still fighting the same war we have fought for over a hundred years. Since the 1920s, the Arabs have sought to uproot our rights to this land. Today, many nations join that cause, attempting to overturn history, spread blood libels, and accuse us of crimes like colonialism, all to deflect from their own oppressive pasts.

It is especially tragic when these accusations come from Western powers—nations like Spain, France, and England, whose colonial histories are rife with exploitation and oppression. I have written both published and unpublished blogs on this very subject, examining the role of these nations in colonization,  cruelty, murder of millions, oppression of these peoples and slavery. It is ironic that while they accuse Israel of colonialism, they deflect their own sins.  The greatest colonial movement in the last century has been the Muslim expansion, which has oppressed countless peoples, including Christians, with barely a whisper from religious or world leaders. This silence, too, is not normal.

This scapegoating, this warping of history, is part of a broader strategy to deflect from their own guilt while continuing the relentless war against Israel. We are not just battling enemies at our borders, but we are also combating the lies and distortions that seek to undermine our right to exist. It is heartbreaking, and it is not normal.

As we sit in our sukkahs, let us not forget the fragility of our existence. This vulnerability reflects our history but is also a reminder of our resilience. Even in the face of what is “not normal,” we must find strength in our faith, people, and homeland. The struggle continues, but so does our determination to survive and thrive in the land of our ancestors.

Nothing New Under the Sun: Antisemitism, Ignorance, and the October 7th Pogrom

Ecclesiastes 1:9 (NIV): “What has been will be again, what has been done will be done again; there is nothing new under the sun.”

This phrase reflects the cyclical nature of life and human existence. It expresses a sense of futility, emphasizing that human activities, achievements, and experiences repeat over time. Despite technological advancements or societal changes, the fundamental aspects of human life—birth, death, love, conflict, etc.—remain constant.

It conveys a philosophical message about the impermanence of worldly things, encouraging reflection on more profound spiritual and moral questions rather than merely seeking novelty or worldly gains.

“There is nothing new under the sun.” These ancient words ring painfully true when we reflect on antisemitism and the global reaction to the events of October 7th, 2023. The hate and ignorance of history seem to repeat themselves, often wearing different masks but driven by the same ancient prejudices.

This ignorance is perhaps best illustrated through a story from Trevor Noah’s autobiography, Born a Crime. Noah grew up in a harsher version of South Africa’s apartheid than I did, and his story is one of discrimination, crime, poverty, abuse, and—perhaps most significantly—ignorance. Ignorance of suffering. I was ignorant of Noah’s suffering in South Africa, just as much of the world remains ignorant of Israel’s suffering today. The deep-seated, irrational hatred that Jews and Israel face is not a new phenomenon, and we need to understand this context as we reflect on the October 7th pogrom and the world’s response.

In Noah’s book, he recounts an unsettling event at a Jewish school where his dance group performed.

“With increased notoriety, the group started being booked in the suburbs. This change meant that they were DJ’ing more and more for white people, and thus came the invitation to perform at the King David School—a Jewish school.

The school was hosting a ‘cultural day’ (a diversity program, so to speak), and Noah’s group, named The South African B-Boys, was one among Greek dancers, flamenco dancers, Zulu musicians, and many others. The B-Boys were anxious and ready to entertain an entire hall filled with Jewish kids. They started playing, the crew started dancing, and by all accounts, everyone present—the teachers, the chaperones, the parents, and the hundreds of kids—were having a great time.

The crowd was finally ready, and Noah proceeded to introduce his star performer by saying, ‘Give it up and make some noise for HIIIIIIIITTTTTTTLLLLLLLEEEEEEERRRRRRR!!!!!’ (Hitler was the name of the lead dancer.) Typical to their performances, Hitler entered and positioned himself in the middle of the stage while all the other dancers chanted their usual chant: ‘Go Hitler! Go Hitler! Go Hitler!’

At this point, the whole room froze and stared aghast. The B-Boys were oblivious, and so was Hitler. Then the event organizer jumped on the stage yelling at Noah: ‘How dare you? This is disgusting! You horrible, disgusting, vile creature! How dare you!!!’”

The aftermath of this incident reveals the vast cultural ignorance between the performers and the Jewish audience. Noah and his crew were unaware of the pain and horror the name Hitler evoked for Jews. They simply saw it as the name for their dancer, completely oblivious to the generational trauma that still reverberates within the Jewish community. Noah took the teacher’s outrage as a racist attack, completely missing the profound historical hurt behind her words.

Much like how Noah misunderstood the reaction to the chant, the world today remains ignorant of the millennia-old blood libels and deep-seated hatred that continue to resurface, as they did on October 7th, when Hamas brutally attacked Israel. The chant “Go Hitler! Go Hitler!” resonates chillingly with the recent cries of “Free Palestine,” often twisted into calls for the destruction of Israel and the Jewish people. This antisemitism is not new—it is the same ancient hatred, now rebranded, that has plagued the Jewish people for centuries.

As David Harris, CEO of the American Jewish Committee (AJC), critiqued in his response to Noah’s 2021 video on Israel: “What exactly is Hamas, a point you skipped in your take on the Middle East? It is a terrorist organization. That’s not a personal view. It is the formal designation of the United States and the 27-member European Union. What’s the goal of Hamas, again missing from your comments? Israel’s annihilation and replacement by an Islamist regime. Those are frequently expressed and well-documented sentiments of Hamas leaders.”

Harris’ critique points to a more significant problem: the ignorance or willful blindness to the facts about groups like Hamas. Many people focus on the imbalance of power between Israel and Palestine, overlooking the violent, genocidal intentions of Hamas. The facts—the doctrinal aim of Hamas to destroy Israel—are often dismissed or downplayed in favor of a more palatable narrative of oppression and power dynamics.

Similarly, Melanie Phillips, in her op-ed titled The Choice: Civilisation or Barbarism, highlights how October 7th has shown the true colours of many in the West: “Now we understand how the Holocaust could have happened. There’s simply nothing Israel can do to defend itself adequately that will gain the approval of the so-called civilised world. Simply, the West doesn’t want Israel to win. It wants to leave the Jewish state indefinitely twisting in the murderous wind.”

Phillips points to a troubling alliance between Islamist extremists and radical Western ideologies like decolonization and critical race theory, which frame Israel as a colonial oppressor, ignoring the reality of its constant fight for survival. This confluence of ideology fuels the hatred we are seeing now, manifesting in attacks on Jewish communities worldwide.

Howard Jacobson, in his op-ed Tales of Infanticide Have Stoked Hatred of Jews for Centuries, brings home the enduring pain of blood libels and false narratives that have been used to demonize Jews throughout history: “Hence the hurt, the anger, and the fear that Jewish people have been experiencing in the year since Hamas’s barbaric massacre of Israelis on 7 October and the no less barbaric denials, not to mention celebrations of it, as night after night our televisions have told the story of the war in Gaza through the death of Palestinian children… But for many, writing or marching against Israeli action, the savagery of the Jews as told for hundreds of years in literature and art and church sermons.”

These echoes of ancient hatreds, resurfacing in the modern day, remind us that antisemitism has not gone away—it has simply adapted, taking on new forms and narratives. There is truly nothing new under the sun.

In Conclusion,

Sukkot also invites us to search for the meaning of life. October 7th has intensified this search. Even King Solomon struggled to find true fulfilment with all his wealth, wisdom, wives, and palaces. On a personal level, many of us just want to live our lives, do some good, and avoid the chaos around us. However, October 7th reminds us that God has a bigger plan, and the Jewish people have a unique mission. We are called to rise beyond our personal comfort and engage with the world around us.