I FELT EMPOWERED

Before heading into battle, Master Sgt. Elkana Vizel, 35, penned a letter for his loved ones. At his funeral this week, his widow read the letter.

The father of four young children, Rabbi Elkana Vizel was among 21 reservists killed last Monday night in Northern Gaza.

Despite sustaining injuries in Operation Protective Edge and having the choice to stay out of combat service, Elkana opted to enlist in the reserves, dedicating himself to defending his people. In his heartfelt letter to his loved ones, he expressed unwavering conviction in his decision to return to the front lines. Here is what he wrote:

If you are reading these words, something must have happened to me. If I was kidnapped, I demand that no deal be made for the release of any terrorist to release me. Our overwhelming victory is more important than anything, so please continue to work with all your might so that the victory is as overwhelming as possible.

Maybe I fell in battle. When a soldier falls in battle, it is sad, but I ask you to be happy. Don't be sad when you part with me. Touch hearts, hold each other's hands, and strengthen each other. We have so much to be proud and happy about.

We are writing the most significant moments in the history of our nation and the entire world. So please, be happy, be optimistic, and keep choosing life all the time. Spread love, light, and optimism. Look at your loved ones in the whites of their eyes and remind them that everything we go through in this life is worth it and that we have something to live for.

Don't stop the power of life for a moment. I was already wounded in Operation Tzuk Eitan, but I do not regret that I returned to fight. This is the best decision I ever made.

We have no words to describe the nobility, love, purity, and holiness of our soldiers and our brothers and sisters fighting for their lives. Elkana's letter brought back a story and message that transpired 80 years ago, in one of the darkest moments of our history.

This week’s Portion  Beshalach "That day, G-d saved Israel from the hands of the Egyptians . . . The Israelites saw the great power G-d had displayed against the Egyptians, and the people were in awe of G-d. They believed in G-d and his servant Moses. Moses and the Israelites then sang this song, saying…"

The Song at the Sea was one of the great epiphanies of history. The sages said that even the humblest of Jews saw at that moment what even the greatest of prophets was not privileged to see. For the first time, they broke into a collective song—a song we recite every day during the morning prayers.

Yet, as is often the case, the English translation does not capture all of the nuances. In the original text, the Torah states:

Then Moses and the children of Israel will sing this song to the Lord, and they spoke, saying, I will sing to the Lord, for very exalted is He; a horse and its rider He cast into the sea.

It speaks of Moses’ and the Jews’ singing, in the future tense. This is profoundly strange. The Torah relates a story that occurred in the past, not one that will occur in the future. It seems like a “bad grammatical error.”

The sages, quoted by Rashi, offer a fascinating insight:

One of the principles of the Jewish faith is the belief in Techiyat Hametim, the resurrection of the dead, following the messianic era. Death is not the end of the story. The soul continues to live and exist, spiritually. What is more, the soul will return to a body.

This is why the Torah chooses to describe the song in the future tense: Moses and his people will indeed sing in the future, after the resurrection. Their song was not only a story of the past; it will also occur in the future.

While this is a fascinating idea, it still begs the question: Why does the Torah specifically hint at the future resurrection here, as opposed to any other place in the Torah? And why will Moses and Israel sing in the future as well?

The following story happened on this very Shabbat, 80 years ago.

One of the great rabbis of Pre-war Europe was Rabbi Aharon Rokeach (1880 – 1957), the fourth Rebbe of the Belz Chasidic dynasty.

His reign as Rebbe saw the devastation of the Belz community, along with most of European Jewry during the Holocaust.  

The Belzer Rebbe not once said any of the prescribed prayers like Yizkor or Kaddish for his wife and children, because he felt that those who had been slain by the Nazis for being Jews were of transcendent holiness; their spiritual stature was beyond our comprehension. Any words about them that we might utter were irrelevant and perhaps even a desecration of their memory.

The first Shabbat after he arrived in Israel during the winter of 1944 was Shabbos Parshat Beshalach, and he spent it in Haifa. He was alone in the world, without a single relative alive.

During the Shabbat, The Rebbe quickly realized that the Holocaust survivors present, who had endured indescribable suffering and had lost virtually everything they had, were in no mood to sing. The Rebbe decided to address himself and his few broken Chassidim who had survived.

The Rebbe raised the above question of why the Torah specifically alludes to the resurrection of the dead, in conjunction with the song that was sung celebrating the splitting of the Red Sea.

He gave this chilling answer. When the Jewish people sang the Song of the Sea, much of the nation was not present. How many people did not survive the enslavement of Egypt? How many Jewish children were drowned in the Nile? How many Jews never lived to see the day of the Exodus? How many refused to embark on a journey into the unknown?

According to tradition, only a fifth of the Jewish people made it out. 80% of the Jews died in Egypt. It is safe to say that everyone who did make it out of Egypt had lost relatives and could not fully rejoice in the miracles they were witnessing. Now, the sea split. The wonder of wonders. Moses says to them, “It is time to sing." But they responded, "Sing? How can we sing? Eighty percent of our people are missing!"

Hence, the Torah says, “Moses and the children of Israel will sing,” in the future tense. Moses explained to his people, that the story was far from over. The Jews in Egypt have died, but their souls are alive, and they will return during the resurrection of the dead. We can sing now, said Moses, not because there is no pain, but because despite the pain, we do not believe we have seen the end of the story. We can celebrate the future.

Jewish history alone is unique. It is a story of the past based on the future. For the Jewish people, the future defines and gives meaning to the past.

His disciples did sing.

I once read an article by a survivor of Auschwitz. He related how every morning, as the sun rose over Auschwitz, his heart would swell with anger. How dare you?! How can the sun be so indifferent to the suffering of millions and just rise again to cast its warm glow on a world drenched in the blood of the purest and holiest? How can the sun be so cruel and apathetic? Where was the protest?

But, he continued his story, he survived. I came out of the hell. And the day after liberation, as I lay in a bed for the first time in years, I watched the sunrise. For the first time, I felt so grateful for the sun. I felt empowered that after the long night, which seemed to never end, the light had at last arrived.

This is the story of our people. Our sun has set. But our sun will also rise. Life, love, and hope will prevail. “Netzach Yisroel Lo Yishaker,” the Eternal One of Israel does not lie. There will be an end to the night. “Moses and the children of Israel will sing.”

And the singing can begin now. We will see Moshiach very very soon --

may it be NOW!

Shabbat Shalom,

Rabbi Yoseph Geisinsky