Worrying about not worrying

When my eldest son, Avi, was a boy, we took him to see the Disney version of “The Hunchback of Notre Dame.” In those pre-streaming days, the movie wasn’t playing anywhere near our home in Baltimore, so we found ourselves in a Gentile neighborhood far enough away that we were likely the only Members of the Tribe in the audience.

The film had everything you could ask for:

• Rich Disney characters.
• Stirring musical score.
• Forbidden love.
• Molten lead pouring down from the cathedral onto the heads of the enemy.

When the film was concluding, and the audience was still very silent, Avi called out: “Did the Jews win?”

Finding ourselves amidst a sea of non-Jews, after viewing a movie whose setting was a church, we were mortified. In our minds, we pictured the hundreds of viewers turning their heads to see who was asking that outrageous question. We tried to shush him.

“DID THE JEWS WIN???” he screamed louder. By then, our beet-red faces probably outshone the little emergency lights which lined the cinema aisles.

You can’t blame him. So much of the tradition that we and his schooling had provided him was based on the storyline that we Jews were under oppression, threatened with our national extinction, and, with G-d’s help, we won.

Pesach. We were emancipated from centuries-long slavery in the most powerful country on earth, leaving their country and its population in tatters.

Purim. The leader of the known world assents to our annihilation. In the matter of a year, our Jewish heroes are calling the shots, while our nemeses swing from gallows.

Chanukah. The powerful Assyrian Greeks attempt to quash our religious observances. The story ends with a glorious new Hasmonean Dynasty rejuvenating our Holy Temple in Jerusalem. Not to mention latkes and sufganiyot (donuts).

DID THE JEWS WIN?

Yes. Every time.

That’s the message we instill in our kids. That G-d watches over us, and will never allow our destruction.

Over the millennia we have faced villains and pogroms and holocausts and persecutions too many to number. We have suffered and been scarred. But we have prevailed, and we live to not only lick our wounds, but to celebrate our survival. We have our days of sadness, remembrance and commemoration, such as Tisha B’Av. And we have days of joy, where we rejoice in our victories.

As many have noted, Jewish history can be succinctly summarized: “They tried to kill us. We won. Let’s eat!”

Nowadays, we are fortunate to have our Israel, with its formidable IDF. We have Iron Dome, David’s Arrow, and David’s Sling, to help protect us.

But the combination of our history of triumphs, and our strong defenses, has a dangerous flip side. For many of us, it has led to a sense of invincibility. A year ago, we may even have said that we were impervious to any enemy assault. We know better now.

But one of the central lessons of each of our stories of triumph seems to have been overlooked. We are saved not for naught. We survive not because of WHO we ARE, but because of WHAT we DO.

We are saved because we are scared. Scared almost to death.

We are saved because that fright impels us to take a look at our lives, and to commit to making them mean more. To being better people. To serving our G-d more fully and sincerely.

The common battle cry today too often sounds like: “G-d, we know you will save us again, because You always do.”

That’s not a prayer. That’s not even real faith.

That’s complacency, born of laziness.

My chavruta (study partner), Mike, had similar thoughts on the matter, and discussed it with a prominent rabbi. The rabbi told him that you can only truly believe in G-d once you have experience the fear and dread that comes before it, and then processed that into the realization that we don’t run the world, and that we are in greater, divine hands.

Trust in G-d only works when it’s accompanied by the hard work. That includes the dread and the panic along the way.

My wife recently wondered: “where are all the worldwide Tehillim gatherings, praying for our safety? Why is everyone so calm?”

I’m worried that we’re not worrying.

And I’m no exception to this deluded complacency. We took some of the grandkids to the beach the other day, and we heard booms from the south. I had a client meeting yesterday about a new campaign. I’m doing my best to keep a normal routine. That’s a common theme around Israel – we go about our business until we can’t.

But I worry that I’m not worrying.

—

DID THE JEWS WIN?

Yes, when they – we – deserved it. When they – we – earned the mercy.

—

We are all preparing for an impeding attack, perhaps on multiple fronts.

We keep the car tank full. We have candles and flashlights and mattresses and non-perishable food and chargers and even a bucket for use if we can’t get to the bathroom. Our mamad (reinforced safe room) is as ready as can be.

My Facebook friend, Liron Kopinsky, created a brilliant and astute meme, based on the mythical mascot of MAD Magazine, Alfred E. Neuman. His legendary line was “What, me worry?” (I actually had a poster up of him with with his signature tooth-gapped, grinning face and that slogan in my childhood bedroom!).

MAD Magazine

WILL THE JEWS WIN?

We can – and we MUST – prepare our mamad. But if we walk around with heads held high, smugly declaring “What, we worry?” I fear that we have missed the boat. If we are relying entirely on our precious IDF and on G-d’s impeccable track record of salvation, we are not doing all we can to assure our future.

Let’s worry a little more. Our lives are indeed at stake.

At the same time, let’s not worry in a destructive, paralytic way. Let’s use those feelings to remind us Who is in charge. Let’s nurture those fears and let them mature, and finally morph into true faith, and closeness both to each other and to our Creator.

THEN THE JEWS WILL WIN.