‘Widespread’ Jewish unity, but how do we make it last? - opinion

This Hanukkah, let us truly embody the lessons and spirit of the holiday by actively seeking out a fellow Jew who is different from us, who has a different set of views and a different way of life.

 HUNDREDS OF thousands rally in solidarity with Israel, in Washington, Nov. 14  (photo credit: PERRY BINDELGLASS/THE JERUSALEM POST)
HUNDREDS OF thousands rally in solidarity with Israel, in Washington, Nov. 14
(photo credit: PERRY BINDELGLASS/THE JERUSALEM POST)

Every year our organization is asked by secular mechinot (pre-military academies) if we can set up some encounters for their students with Orthodox peers.

This is part of the work that we do at Kesher Yehudi, bringing together Jews who would never otherwise meet – to sit, talk, learn, and form lasting friendships. 

This year, something has changed. Not only have we been inundated with triple the requests for learning partners, but we’ve also been invited to come during the mechina program’s opening week instead of waiting several weeks into the program. 

This is but one piece of anecdotal evidence that is part of an overwhelming hunger for unity in Israel today.

Something is happening here. Those of us in Israel see it, hear it, read it, feel it. The question is, what are we doing about it? 

Something special this year

In his compelling piece in last week’s Jerusalem Post, Elliot Penn described the dramatic societal change we have witnessed in Israel since October 7. From division and strife to unity, beautiful acts of chesed, charity, food-and-clothing drives, citizen mobilization, and more. A transformation he refers to as “an outburst of unity” following the horrific Hamas massacre, a “divinely-ordained correction of some sort, for the earlier divisiveness.” 

As Kesher Yehudi’s founder, an organization dedicated to fostering and spreading Jewish unity throughout Israel, I imagined someday living in an Israel where every single ultra-Orthodox Jew in the country would have a good friend, someone they knew well, who was not like them. An Israel where every person in the country isn’t giving lip service to the well-worn phrase “we are brothers and sisters,” but rather actually knows and feels that they have one brother and one sister in this family we call Israel who is radically different – at least on the outside. 

So, I have naturally been monitoring the developments of the past year with great concern. Our mission suddenly felt urgent and critical in the face of so much anger, vitriol, and division that was tearing the country apart. 

And then... war. Destruction. A massacre not seen since the Holocaust. Braced for what could change, we were stunned – in the very best way – by the onslaught of requests for more volunteers. We suddenly found ourselves with triple the number of private individuals asking for a religious study partner! 

It is not unusual for a family to suddenly come together in moments of crisis. This is common, even among families with the most complicated dynamics. When a loved one is threatened, we find a way to come together. 

The essential question, the true and deeper challenge is how to maintain this unity. If this is in fact a correction of any kind, and if we are to continue to stand strong, to heal and flourish in the wake of such devastation, how do we hold on to what we’ve found? What is the secret to maintaining our differing views and convictions as to what is best for the State of Israel while learning to love and respect those in our country who disagree? How do we keep the hearts and minds of our nation open when we finally move from crisis to “What’s next?”

I HUMBLY submit that we have discovered a successful recipe, something learned through trial and error from our students. That it is valuable to teach people about all parts of Israeli society and important to create a culture of expansiveness and openness to that which is different – and work on our insular, tribal nature.

Inherent in this lesson is one key factor: Even a single personal relationship that is formed between individuals from radically different groups has the power to transform one’s view of an entire sector of society.

While I know that we are not the only ones to see this, we know that friendships – real, ongoing, substantive friendships  – are how we learn to love the other, and how we see our shared humanity despite surface differences.

Most importantly, we see how much we have to learn from one another, each and every one of us, in order to move ahead in building a better, stronger Israel. 

So how are these lasting, meaningful, and transformative friendships being created throughout the country? The answer is by learning together as study partners, rather than as teacher and student.

The hevruta model is at the core of that which connects us – as its name implies – containing the critical word in its root: haver (friend) – we build real friendships. Friendships like the bond of Avner Slater from a religious neighborhood in Jerusalem and Itay Kraiden from Tel Aviv.

They were paired because they are both attorneys of similar ages. That was the initial reason for offering them the chance to start learning together, but that is not the reason they are still at it five years later, sharing not only their thoughts on what they study but also their lives and the big questions surrounding them. 

Shulamit Kaufman, a housewife from Bnei Brak, and Liat Ben Eliyahu, a yoga instructor from Sderot, both have Anglo backgrounds and a love of gardening. That was enough to create a pair. Years later they are the closest of friends, “soul sisters” who talk regularly (and still continue to learn) while sharing their families, their loves, their wins, and their challenges. 

The former mechina (pre-army) student Ayala is still connected and close to Avigail, who became her learning partner that year – even after Ayala has finished the army. The fact that one served in the IDF while her peer was already a mother didn’t separate them; they both report that it helped them gain clarity into the choices others make, their lives, their love of the country and of the Jewish people, and what that means for them personally.

They have chosen to stay close for years. They are bonded, and they are different and better people because of it. 

Our shared legacy is the sacred book given to the Jewish nation. It is there for each and every individual to read, explore, learn from, and come to with their unique personality and point of view.

Hanukkah is most certainly a celebration of a miraculous military victory, but it also commemorates a chapter in our history in which we were sorely divided, and as such, our enemies attempted to overtake us. Furthermore, the heroes of the Hanukkah battle –  the Maccabees – were not initially embraced or recognized by the Jewish nation.

Menorah in the window on the eighth night (credit: AMANDA FIELD)
Menorah in the window on the eighth night (credit: AMANDA FIELD)

This took time, far longer than a year of public protests, as deep lines of dissension divided the Jewish people. It was only through the crisis of potential annihilation that they were united. And how was their victory ultimately expressed? The rededication of the Temple, a rededication to a shared faith, and a renewed commitment to one another as Jews.  

This Hanukkah, let us truly embody the lessons and spirit of the holiday by actively seeking out a fellow Jew who is different from us, who has a different set of views and a different way of life. Let us actively invest in building and creating a real friendship. 

Learning “about” one another is simply not enough.

We can only hope to emerge from the darkness of October 7 into a place of light that will endure past the period of crisis by getting to know the beautiful and diverse people that make up our nation and making a new Jewish connection, a kesher yehudi.

Two people at a time. 

Hanukkah Sameach. 

The writer is the founder and CEO of Kesher Yehudi.