Raising Generation Redemption

It might be one of the strangest bedtime routines ever. My two older children now sleep in our safe room nightly, though even in the last few months before this current war, they have chosen to sleep there more often than not, so as not to be disturbed if there is an air raid siren.

Tucked in with their blankets, special soft toys and relaxing music, I get up to leave. The conversation is the same, night after night:

‘Good night, kids, I love you, and I hope I don’t see you again until morning.’

‘Unless Mashiach [the Messiah] comes! Then you will come to wake us up, right?’ interjects my 5-year-old son.

‘Right.’ I agree, and I close the door, with a silent prayer for a quiet night.

It is clear to me that we in Israel are raising a remarkable generation of children and young people. Apparently, it is clear to other more objective voices too, such as those of Douglas Murray and Erin Molan.

The parshiyot (Torah portions) of these weeks come from Bamidbar (Numbers) and largely concern the generation of Israelites who left Egypt and were eventually destined to die in the desert, having shown themselves to be unworthy to enter the land. The message seems to be that some worldviews are impossible to change; people who cannot shake the mindset of slaves are simply unable to build a successful, free society in the Land of Israel.

Last week, I happened upon a Facebook post from a respected Chabad rabbi in Australia who is heavily involved in Jewish outreach, and I couldn’t help but reflect on this issue playing out in real time.

He wrote:

“Many fellow Jews I know are feeling overwhelmed right now and with good reason.

The flotilla headlines (like the one pictured)
The Hillel Fuld visa.
The way Israel is portrayed in the media.
The silence around the hostages.
The rise of voices who call us oppressors and get applauded for it.

And so the question keeps coming up:
Is Australia still a good place for Jews?

It’s painful. It’s exhausting. And it feels like no one wants to hear our side.

…

So I’ve been asking myself: what do we actually do?

I’ve started thinking of it as a map of what we can control. What can I take responsibility for today, this week, this year?”

The post was well-written and continued encouraging people to do what he perceived to be within their sphere of control, for example, speaking up with the truth when faced with lies, learning more and raising children with proud Jewish values.

And yet, something in the mindset really bothered me.

He stated the obvious question so clearly: “Is Australia still a good place for Jews?” and seemed to imply that this question should not or could not be answered, apparently because it was not within our locus of control.

But it’s so clear that we are no longer living in Ancient Persia, the Crusades, England of the late 1290s, France of the 1300s, Spain of the late 1400s, Europe of the 19th and early 20th centuries. (I could go expand further with the history of Jewish persecution, but at this point, I won’t.) This time, we do not simply have to roll with the punches and keep our heads down until our home country becomes so inhospitable that we are forced to find another place to live — only to repeat the process again and again.

For once, we can ask ourselves the question: ‘Is Australia still a good place for Jews?’ and answer honestly and clearly, and take action to ensure the best future for ourselves as Jews, and for our Jewish children – by moving to the only Jewish country in the world.

There is a theory in psychology called learned helplessness, where a caged animal becomes so accustomed to captivity that it won’t even leave, even when the cage door is opened.

As a Jewish people, are we so beaten down by history and continued persecution that we cannot even recognize the beginnings of redemption when they appear, and act on them?

To return to my first point, this new generation of Israeli young people is remarkable, and one of the things I believe that makes them so remarkable is that they were born in Israel. This is perhaps the first generation of Jews of whom the majority are born in Israel.

Whilst I am proud to be an olah (immigrant to Israel), I believe that those of us who grew up in the Diaspora simply cannot instinctively hold same worldview and vision of those children who grew up only knowing a society that accepts them totally, because of, rather than in spite of, their Jewishness. I am proud to be a bridge to ‘Generation Redemption’, to be raising three of these children who I hope will greet the Mashiach, and I am always fascinated to see what Diaspora Judaism looks like through their eyes when we visit family outside of Israel.

My generation is the Diaspora is so used to being a minority, needing to fight for acceptance in broader secular society, where a warm reception is very far from a given, and our acceptance is conditional. Looking around at the world headlines today, it’s understandably a hard attitude to shake.

This generation is our future, and it is they that will inherit G-d’s land and His promise of redemption – not necessarily because we are unworthy, but because for the majority of us, we are simply unable to adopt anything other than the ‘Diaspora perspective’. If we do not fully appreciate the power and responsibility we wield to change our circumstances by coming home to our land, it may be our destiny to die in exile in the Diaspora, just as our ancestors did over 3000 years ago.

Diaspora Jews, this time is different – the choice is in your hands. It is your decision whether to passively await the redemption in exile, or raise your children in the Promised Land, where they ask to be woken up when the redemption – which they are so sure is on its way – arrives in the middle of the night.