Before the construction of the desert Sanctuary, guidelines surrounding sacrifices and rituals were repeated twice.
The first round of instructions was directed to the rank and file, while a parallel list was commanded directly to the priests. Although the general population wasn’t directly involved in the Sanctuary ceremonies, they still had their own role. God wanted every person to feel individual agency over the Sanctuary experience so that it would not become an impersonal institution.
To properly maintain its dignity and sanctity, only trained priests could officiate its ceremonies. Though restrictiveness was vital, it was still crucial that every Jew was personally invested in this house of God, or else it would become detached, bureaucratic, and irrelevant.
Similarly, everyone was invited to the Sanctuary’s inauguration. The induction of the Sanctuary was launched with an eight-day vigil, known as the week of miluim, during which the priests could not leave Sanctuary grounds. During this intense period, they practiced the various rituals and mentally prepared for this solemn project. Although only priests were directly involved in the vigil, the entire population was invited to attend the opening ceremonies.
From a logistical standpoint, it was challenging to fit three million people into the Sanctuary courtyard. Yet, despite the technical obstacles, it was important for even the average Jew, who wasn’t a priest, to feel included in the miluim. Everyone had agency, and all felt personally invested in the project. We became shareholders in the Sanctuary, not spectators.
TRADITIONALLY, ISRAELI citizens have felt deep agency for their country. Israel was a new country, forming its social, political, and religious identity. Living through the country’s early chapters was deeply meaningful, as we were conscious about forging something new. Compulsory National Service provided every Israeli with a seat at the table and an individual role in defending the country and enriching daily life. If Israelis were politically contentious, it was because they had ownership and agency of their country. Sometimes too much ownership, but ownership nonetheless.
As life in Israel shifted, our individual agency diminished. There was a pocket of about 30 years during which our country experienced spectacular and dizzying growth as we transformed into a global economic powerhouse and a military superpower. Our fledging little country had arrived on the grand international stage. We became fabulously successful, but the country felt less personal and more institutional. We transformed from a “little engine that could” into a colossal superpower.
As Israel became large and seemingly self-powered, we started taking it for granted. We assumed that it was stable and secure enough to run on its own. As we lost personal agency in day-to-day experiences, life in Israel felt more humdrum and less meaningful.
Oct. 7 reversed this. Plunged into an existential war, we were forced to take greater agency over the future of our state. Our revitalized agency echoed in the exhausted voices of soldiers who battled in Gaza for months. Declaring their firm intention to pursue this battle to its conclusion, they defiantly announced: “If we don’t protect our homes, who will?” The massacre reminded us that each Israeli citizen has a personal stake in Israel.
While national identification with government institutions is low, patriotism and support for our security forces run high. This will dramatically affect the future political map of Israel, but for now it is a reflection of how empowering personal agency can be.
During this war, our entire country has served a modern miluim, and it hasn’t been for only eight days. For five months, Israelis from all walks of life have kept a sacred vigil protecting our homeland. If we don’t defend it, who will? If we don’t build this country, who will?
Despite the immense sadness and heartbreaking tragedy of the past five months, the period has been filled with meaning and soulfulness.
THE WAR has also provided agency to Jews outside of Israel. They, too, took the State of Israel for granted. As flights to Israel proliferated and hotels multiplied, it became easier than ever to land in Israel for a few days, enjoy the people and the food, visit family and the Kotel, and jet back to regular life.
Older readers still remember the crowded and suffocating old Ben-Gurion Airport. Despite its disadvantages, the second you landed, you immediately knew you were in Israel. The heat, the smell, and the cramped lines left no doubt. When the modest terminal was replaced by the current modern and shiny airport, landing in Israel became similar to landing anywhere else. Once pilgrims, Jewish visitors to Israel now became tourists.
Over the past few years, it has become clear that Israel is no longer something that any Jew can take for granted. The shift in mentality began during COVID-19 when, for a few months, the doors of our homeland were closed to non-Israeli Jews due to health concerns. The reality that their homeland was no longer just a few hours away was jolting for many. Two years later, the savage attacks of Oct. 7 further recast the relationship between non-Israeli Jews and the state, by reminding everyone of just how fragile life in Israel still was.
In the last five months, visits to Israel have been very different from the vacations of the past. Shopping and restaurant meals have been replaced by volunteerism and trips to charred remains of communities in the South. Jews traveling to Israel have, once again, become pilgrims.
The war has reminded every Jew that they are shareholders in Israel and not external spectators. The country isn’t self-powered but dependent upon us. The war has restored our agency.
The writer is a rabbi at Yeshivat Har Etzion/Gush, a hesder yeshiva. He has smicha and a BA in computer science from Yeshiva University, and a master’s degree in English literature from the City University of New York. He is the author of the upcoming Dark Clouds Above, Faith Below (Kodesh Press, April, 2024), which provides religious responses to the massacres of Oct. 7 and the ensuing war.