Tuesday July 23 is the fast of the 17th of Tammuz, from early morning until evening. It is the day when the walls of Jerusalem were breached before the destruction. But this year, the ancient words "the walls were breached" have special significance. Imagine the walls protecting the city falling, and the Roman enemy simply entering, conquering, and destroying. Sounds familiar? That is what happened to us on Simchat Torah, when the walls in the south were breached.

The fast of the 17th of Tammuz symbolizes the beginning of the "Three Weeks," a period of mourning that lasts until the fast of the Ninth of Av, the day of the destruction of the Holy Temple and the beginning of the exile. This year, sadly, there is so much new mourning.

So, is the goal just to mourn? Our Sages tell us to carefully examine whether the sadness leads us only to despair or also to repair. Do we feel the fast only in our stomachs or also in our hearts?

These are significant days that offer an opportunity for deep rectification. On these days we are called upon to ask the hardest questions —about ourselves and our destiny. Questions about our worldview as a people: what is our role, how will we unite, why does absolute evil always see us as the enemy, and how we will respond.

The prophet Zechariah said that in the future, these days will become "days of joy and gladness and cheerful feasts." It depends on us, and with God's help, already this year!

Men Are From Sinai, Women Are From the Land of Israel

In his hugely popular book, Men Are from Mars, Women Are from Venus, John Gray claimed that men and women come from completely different planets. I am not so sure that the differences are so extreme, but in this parasha we come across one issue in which men and women showed completely  contrasting attitudes.

Tzlofhad’s five daughters come to Moses and ask to receive their portion of land as an inheritance in the Land of Israel: “Give us a portion along with our father’s brothers.” Moses is unsure how to answer them and asks God, who tells him that their request is justified and they should be given a portion of land.

Rashi makes an interesting comment about the difference between men and women in the wilderness: “The women were not included in the decree enacted after the sin of the spies, for they cherished the land. The men said, ‘Let us appoint a leader and return to Egypt,’ but the women said, ‘Give us a portion.’” The men wanted to reverse course, whereas the women pushed ahead because they loved the Land of Israel. As a result, for the forty years following the sin of the spies, all the men of that generation died in the wilderness, while the women, the elderly and widowed women who loved the land, merited to enter it.

Rabbi Shlomo Ephraim of Luntschitz, known as the Kli Yakar, writes an even more radical commentary. He claims that the reason the spies failed in their mission is because they were men, and that if women had been sent they would have come back and given an optimistic report about the Land of Israel. Four hundred years ago, the Kli Yakar wrote that “the men hated the land and the women cherished it, so God said, ‘In My opinion it would have been better to send women who cherish the land and would not speak badly about it.’”

The sin of the spies might have been averted if female spies had been sent!

How to Respond to a Nation Called Israel

The following are some reflections in the wake of Israel’s attack on its enemies in distant Yemen last week. 

Two non-Jews were privileged to have a Torah portion named after them: Yitro and Balak. We find many similarities between these two individuals. Both were curious about the new nation that had been freed from Egypt and both arrived at conclusions regarding its impact. But their conclusions were radically different: Yitro was thrilled about the emergence of this new nation and was eager to support and even join them; Balak, by contrast, concluded that this nation posed a threat and decided to curse and attack them. Both will be remembered for posterity based on the choices made at that pivotal time.

 Whenever something dramatic occurs, we need to decide what part we will play in the story. Balak could have chosen to follow in Yitro’s footsteps, and then the beginning of his parashah would have read: “And Balak heard all that God had done for Moshe and the people of Israel… and Balak and his sons came to meet Moshe…” By the same token, Yitro could have arrived at Balak’s conclusion and then his parashha would have read: “And Yitro sent messengers to Bilaam”— in order to curse the Jewish people. 

There is an important message here: when faced with the ultimate truth, it is impossible for people to remain indifferent.  We are witnessing this phenomenon today as we observe the attitudes of different nations towards Jewish people—how they address the rise of antisemitism, their response to the terror unleashed by Hamas, and their reaction to the hostage crisis.  But we too are always facing choices: what we should pray for, which cause to support, and what to dream about for the future.

May we always strive to make the proper choices. And may the world do likewise.

Revisiting October 7

The Bira family members were reburied in their kibbutz, Be'eri, last week, after their temporary burial in the Moshav Hogla cemetery.

Aside from the deep sorrow, I feel that this event serves also as a reality check. Today, nine months after October 7, we’re capable of internalizing and absorbing the horrific details, to really understand what happened here: Oron, 54, and Yasmin, 51, devoted and loving parents, were murdered along with their daughters Tair, 23, and Tahal, 15.  Only their son Yahav, 20, survived. Oron's brother, Tal, 62, was also murdered together with them — and this is just one family out of the 101 people who were brutally murdered in Be'eri, and the eleven who are still being held captive.

Suddenly we heard that Tair loved to play music, that Tahal was a youth counselor, and that Tal’s hobbies were photography and cooking. There was no way we could grasp all this in October.

Now they are buried in Kibbutz Be'eri. "We will live in their light," their neighbors and friends promised. The community will remember them and flourish again.

More than anything else, this ceremony reminds us of what we may have overlooked during the past nine months: our enemies are absolute evil. Note that in last week's Torah portion, Parashat Balak, King Balak likewise doesn’t seek to conquer and build, only to curse the Jews and bring about their destruction. How familiar.

Against the backdrop of that painful funeral, held suddenly in the middle of July, we also received the most important reminder: Who the real enemy is and what he wants to do to each and every one of us, to every Jew on the planet.