The Gemora in Horiot says that Tzara’at is a “Besora,” a portentous piece of news. Rashi there notes the language of Besora is usually good news. The phrase “Besorot Tovot” is something of a redundancy. Rashi says that there is something of good news even in a situation of pain.
One of the explanations for this “good news” is that Tzara’at afflicts only the most righteous people. It is a sign that someone is in close contact with Hashem. This type of attention from Hashem is reserved for the very righteous. Miriam and Moshe have episodes of Tzara’at.
These are examples of Hashgacha Pratit, of open divine providence. We use this phrase loosely, in the colloquial sense, and there is nothing wrong with that. It is good to express one’s sense of gratitude in this way, and to be aware of the positive flow of energy from Hashem. But in its technical sense of a violation of the normal laws of the physical universe, this type of attention is not for everyone. The positive flow of energy for the rest of us is usually referred to as “Beracha,” or blessing.
R’ Soloveitchik’s long essay, “Kol Dodi Dofek” (The Voice of My Beloved is Knocking) is an argument that the founding of the state of Israel is a divine knock on the door. Its founding was an act of divine providence. This year’s Yom Ha’Atzmaut is the 75th anniversary of that knock. There will be a community-wide event in San Mateo on Sunday afternoon to mark Yom Ha’atzma’ut, in addition to special Davening at EB on Tuesday night and Wednesday morning. There will be booths for organizations on Sunday, including from EB.
But what kind of a divine phenomenon was the founding of the state? It is not about the final Geula (salvation). We don’t spend time speculating about that anyway, and we certainly don’t go naming the end of days. If anything, this is the period before the end of days, what is sometimes referred to as Mashiach ben Yosef. That is a time of great confusion, as it was when the sons of Yaakov were confused by a seemingly cruel taskmaster in Egypt. There is no way to know how long that period will last; it could be centuries. We hope it is not. We pray that it is not. But we can’t know. When we say Reisheet Tzmichat Geulateinu, the beginning of the sprouting of our redemption, in the prayer we say for Israel, it is also a prayer. Even if it is taken as a statement, it would not tell us anything about the process.
R’ Soloveitchik used to point out that the land of Israel in this way was not there for the Baal HaTanya, for R’ Akiva Eiger or for the Vilna Gaon. It was not there for the Rambam.
Why was it not there? Because, he said, the Jews of those eras did not need it. European life was not easy but Jewishness was readily available. Families that wanted to educate their children could do so. People who wanted to find a Shul could do so. Even in small hamlets, Jewish life was possible, it was dignified, it had a grandeur of its own.
But after the first half of the 20th century, the situation was different. The aftermath of WWII left a dark hole. For those with firm belief, it was possible to keep going. They knew that Hashem turns his back sometimes. This is part of Jewish history. There have been other times of Hester Panim (a hidden face), when Hashem’s presence is not accessible.
But what about those who don’t believe so much? What were they going to hang onto after the war? R’ Soloveitchik said that the founding of the State was for them. R’ Berel Wein remembers walking with his father to Shul on Friday night, May 14, 1948. He says his father was an unemotional and unemotive Litvak. But he was crying that evening on the way to Shul. He probably could not articulate why, but the events earlier that day had touched something in him. There is a reason that some people say that Yom Ha’Atzma’ut is more of a holiday for those outside of Israel than for those in Israel.
We all know that this anniversary is coming amidst unprecedented internal turmoil. But Israel is not going anywhere. It will survive. At the same time, one can see that it is looking less grand in some people’s eyes. It is less of a source of pride for some. That’s not an existential threat to the country but it’s a worrisome thing. For some people, a pride in, and a connection to, Israel is all that they have to connect them to Jewishness. It should never come down to whether one likes this government or that one. It is the fact that there are governments, and that the country exists at all. That is the astonishing thing. It was the singular fact in Jewish history in 1948 and that, we hope, is the role that it will play moving forward.
