Fear and Hope
“It is nighttime by the river Jabbok. Darkness is everywhere, upon the land, upon the soul. I wonder if there is a gentle breeze, a wisp of Godly presence before the fight. Maybe the stars shine upon the black sky, maybe not. Maybe the light of the moon illuminates the river water, maybe not. It is quiet, dead quiet, and Jacob is afraid. And suddenly a whirlwind tosses him. He tumbles, twists as he tries to steady himself. Who are you? Who are you that seizes our fear, that grips our clenched heart? What is the name of the one who injures us so?” (Rabbi Karyn D. Kedar)
In this week’s Torah portion, Vayishlach, Jacob fears meeting with his brother after many years of exile. He is coming back with flocks, slaves, and his huge family. In order to prepare for the encounter, he organises his possessions and chooses presents to appease Esau. Then, in his anxiety, he separates himself from the group, goes to the other side of the river, and has an eventful night, fighting with an unknown creature. A fight that would change him forever. On his own he was distant from the reasons for his anxiety, and could face his fears, and organise his thoughts and next decisions.
During the last few months, I have had the opportunity to join 3 different clergy retreats: the European rabbinic Kallah, and both the Liberal and the Reform Kallah in the UK. The common point to them was the pain that rabbis and cantors are carrying in their hearts. The difference is how each group chose to deal with this suffering. As a fifth-year student hearing how rabbis have been dealing with our times, I was able to face my own battles and understand what is haunting my soul nowadays. I realised that part of my suffering comes from the fact that I have been far from Israel since Covid, from my friends and family who live there. I am feeling distant, guilty and unable to help.
When I came back from the last of the rabbinic conferences, I attended the Hadassah Gala Dinner, and I was able to relate to Jacob’s fear and anxiety. I understood that an important part of my pain is that we have been talking about the dead, which is a great pain that we carry, but we are forgetting the living. That we should be protecting the living, taking care of the wounded and fighting for the values in which we believe. It was hearing about the rehabilitation work, the lives saved, and the dedication of those who make miracles happen in real life, that I could touch my pain.
Progressive Jews who live outside Israel are feeling powerless. We are judged and held responsible for the actions of the Israeli government; one we don’t have the power to choose. We personally understand the words of Chaim Weizmann, first president of Israel: “I know that everything we do, or don’t do, in this country, will shed a light or shadow on all Jews.” And, nowadays, we are feeling the shadow over us. We want to see changes in Israeli government, we want to see our Progressive Judaism protected, we want to see our values applied to the behaviours of the land for which we are held responsible. But how can we, Jews of the world, influence Israeli politics? The answer is: through the World Zionist Congress (WZC).
Established by Theodore Herzl, the WZC elects members who will draw up the policy, including financial decisions, of key Israeli National Institutions. The congress is composed of several organizations, among them Arzenu, the Reform Movement’s Zionist branch. Arzenu is the voice of progressive Judaism inside one of the most powerful organizations in Israel, and its power comes from the number of chairs that are conquered by means of a worldwide election that will happen next year in March. This is our opportunity to find our voices and effectively be represented in Israel.
As explained by Yair Lootsteen, Vice-chair of Keren Kayemeth Leyisrael (KKL): “for Progressive Jews in general, and for those of us living in Israel more particularly, Arzenu’s success in the upcoming 2025 WZC elections is of paramount importance. […] when we have enough political clout, we can loudly bring to those Zionist arenas our joint vision of a pluralistic Israel where Jews of all denominations are accepted and made to feel at home. Where Peace is not a dirty word but rather a true aspiration, within Israel and with our neighbours. […] the more power we have around the tables of those National Institutions, the more we are able to ensure the World Zionist Organization, the Jewish Agency for Israel and Keren Kayemet LeYisrael, provide financial support for our Movement in Israel but also for Progressive Judaism around the world.”
As a people, after being freed from oppression, we are not the children of Abraham, Isaac or Jacob. We become Bnei Yisrael, the children of Israel, the man that Jacob becomes after facing his fears and finding hope. As a people we struggle, we fear, we get wounded, but in the end, we are able to understand that, despite the pain, we know our priorities. Now is our time to struggle, to face our fears, stand up and make our voices be heard in Israel. As Rabbi Karyn D. Kedar wrote in her poem about Parashat Vayishlach:
“Inside the human heart is fear.
There is also hope.
The two wrestle constantly, like Jacob and his God.
Sometimes one prevails. Sometimes the other.
The struggle is sometimes silent, other times loud.
But it is constant-fear, hope, fear, hope.”
As Jews in the world, facing our fears and hoping for a better future, we must act and make a change. Now it is time for us to vote. Now it is time for us to hope.
Andrea Kulikovsky, LBC rabbinical student
The views expressed in this D’var Torah do not necessarily reflect the position of Leo Baeck College.