The Haredi Chazzan Who Showed Me Israel’s Future This Yom Kippur

This Yom Kippur, our chazzan did more than lead us in prayer. He showed me the future of the State of Israel, and perhaps the future of the Jewish people.

As I have many times over the past 15 years, I had the privilege of spending Yom Kippur with hundreds of participants, alumni and staff members of the Kol Ami Mechina. Young Jewish women and men from Israel and around the world came together to pray, learn, reflect and ask themselves who they are and who they hope to become. With more than 3,000 alumni, Kol Ami has become a community unlike any other. But that is not what I want to write about.

I want to tell you about the young man who served as our chazzan and led our community in prayer. His name is Ariel, and his story deserves to be known. Ariel was born into an ultra-Orthodox family in Jerusalem. He studied in some of the most prestigious institutions in the Haredi world, including the renowned Hebron Yeshiva. But at a certain point, Ariel realized that he wanted something more than the path laid out before him. He left the yeshiva and began studying secular subjects for the first time in his life.

At the age of 22, he had to begin learning mathematics, English and science almost from scratch. Within two years, he had made up what most Israeli students learn over more than a decade.

He was then accepted to the Technion, one of Israel’s leading universities. He completed his bachelor’s degree in engineering with honors and continued to a master’s degree, graduating at the top of his class. Today, he is pursuing a PhD in materials engineering.

That alone would be an extraordinary story. But during his demanding academic studies, Ariel also decided to volunteer for service in the IDF. Over the past three years, he has served hundreds of days in one of the most emotionally difficult roles imaginable: as a military rabbi responsible for helping bring fallen soldiers to burial and accompanying their grieving families.

And this Yom Kippur, after everything he had experienced, Ariel stood before hundreds of young Jews and led us in prayer. As I listened to his voice, I felt that I was not only hearing an exceptional chazzan. I was being offered a glimpse into Israel’s future.

Hundreds of thousands of our Haredi brothers and sisters have enormous potential to contribute to broader Israeli society while remaining true to their identity and beliefs. They can become leaders in academia, technology, medicine, education, business and public service. Haredi men can join the IDF and help carry the burden at a time when Israel desperately needs more people willing to serve.

This process will not happen overnight, and it will not happen through contempt or coercion. It requires courage from within the Haredi community and genuine openness from the rest of Israeli society. Those who choose this path should not be asked to abandon who they are. They should be welcomed and given the tools and opportunities they were too often denied.

When Soviet Jews arrived in Israel in great numbers following the collapse of the Soviet Union, they transformed the country. They brought knowledge, determination, culture, scientific excellence and an extraordinary work ethic. Israel would not be the country it is today without them. I believe that growing participation by Haredi Israelis could become the next great wave of talent, wisdom, hard work and passion to transform Israel and the Jewish world.

The emergence of new Haredi political initiatives seeking participation rather than separation is another encouraging sign. Something is beginning to move. It may take time, and there will undoubtedly be resistance and setbacks, but the change is already underway.

Ariel is not a symbol invented for a political argument. He is a real person who made extraordinarily difficult choices and worked incredibly hard. His path will not be right for everyone, and every Haredi man or woman must be free to choose his or her own way.

But Ariel is also not alone.

On Yom Kippur, we are asked to examine ourselves, not only as individuals, but also as a society. We are asked to imagine who we could become and to believe that change is possible.

Listening to Ariel lead the prayers, surrounded by hundreds of young Jews from different countries, backgrounds and religious identities, I felt something that has become too rare in Israel: optimism.

The future of Israel will not be built by forcing everyone to become the same. It will be built when every part of Israeli society is invited—and expected, to contribute its strength to our shared future.

This Yom Kippur, Ariel did more than lead us in prayer. He gave us a glimpse of what Israel can become.