JNS
Where does Israel find resilience? More than that, why is everyone so happy?
As a rabbi, I’ve often had to juggle conflicting life-cycle events in a single day. I’ve gone from a funeral to a wedding, from a brit milah to an unveiling, and over the years, from happy occasions to cemeteries and back. This is precisely what is happening this week in Israel.
It is the annual season of emotional rollercoasters in Israel and for Jews around the world. First, we had the festive celebrations of Passover, tempered by the Yizkor memorial service on the final day of the chag. Then it was Yom Hashoah, as we remembered the Holocaust and our 6 million martyrs. And now we have Yom Hazikaron, where we recall and pay tribute to Israel’s fallen heroes, a day which, in recent years, has included all the innocent victims of terror.
And this leads immediately to celebrations of Israel’s statehood and sovereignty, or, as some have cynically labeled it, Israel’s annual barbecue day.
Juggling contrary emotions and such powerful opposing feelings is never easy. If we Jews sometimes seem to be schizophrenic, well, now you know why.
But how do we manage? With all the wars, intifadas, never-ending terror attacks, and, most recently, the horrific Hamas-led terrorist attacks in southern Israel on Oct. 7, 2023, how have the people of Israel managed to retain their sanity and emotional equilibrium? Where does the now-renowned resilience of Israelis come from?
Of course, there is a sense of nationalism. Others talk of powerful feelings of peoplehood and shared destiny. I would suggest that for most Israelis, there is something much deeper: faith.
Since Oct. 7, in particular, we have witnessed completely secular soldiers and citizens shouting Shema Yisrael, “Hear, O Israel,” in moments of danger. We’ve seen nonreligious Israel Defense Forces heroes begging for tzitzit, tefillin, siddurim and tehillim, Psalms. Released hostages are sharing how, though they hardly went to synagogue, their faith kept them sane and hopeful, even in those dreadful underground circumstances. One recounted how she would repeat a single prayer—the only prayer she knew—day after day in those months of captivity, and how it never failed to strengthen her. Another shared how a little Torah booklet left behind by a chayal, an Israeli soldier, sustained her throughout his hundreds of days in captivity.
The phrase Am Yisrael Chai has become a cliché now, but its foundation is not only a sense of patriotism. It not only refers to the nation of Israel, the State of Israel, but the people of Israel, and it goes way beyond mere nationalism. It resonates with peoplehood, history and destiny—a higher calling that will never end.
We are not only the people of Israel. We are God’s people, and we have a mission to fulfill.
It never ceases to amaze me how Israel, with all its existential threats, surrounded by mortal enemies on every side that plot its destruction (and would repeat Oct. 7 again and again, if they only could), is ranked at No. 8 on the top 10 list of happiest countries in the world, according to the World Happiness Report 2025. Somehow, Finland always wins, but Israel is the happiest country in the Middle East and also ahead of the United States of America. And this is even after Oct. 7!
It’s quite unbelievable, but it tells a compelling story. Clearly, the people of Israel enjoy a sense of purpose and fulfilment that lifts them beyond the regular routines of running to bomb shelters. Happiness in life is not just measured by creature comforts or in living a sequestered life far from the madding crowd, like the people in the Nordic region. Israel possesses a higher calling, and a higher and deeper purpose in life. There is something eternal about our existence that brings both meaning and happiness.
This same faith is reflected in the story of the Haftarah we read this week in synagogues around the world. It comes from ll Kings (7:3-20) and tells the tale of a great miracle promised by the prophet Elisha. Samaria was under siege by Aram, a formidable enemy with a large army. The siege led to a terrible famine, and people were dying of starvation. The price of food had skyrocketed beyond affordability.
Elisha prophesized to the corrupt Jewish King Jehoram that a miracle would occur the very next day, and that food would be available in such abundance that the prices would drop to rock bottom. One of the king’s courtiers responded skeptically that God Himself could not perform such a miracle. It was impossible. Elisha said that the courtier would see it happen with his own eyes but would be unable to partake of it.
The Haftarah tells the story of how the miracle unfolded. Indeed, true to Elisha’s word, the Aramean army was suddenly seized by inexplicable fear and fled in terror. The siege was lifted, and food became plentiful. In the mad dash by the people to find the provisions left behind, the cynical courtier was trampled to death. He did, indeed, see the prophet’s word fulfilled, but sadly, he didn’t live to benefit from it.
The word of God mandating our people more than 3,000 years ago with a national mission and destiny in our promised land and beyond, continues to nurture and sustain us through all our traumas and tsuris. We have experienced shock and loss, with thousands of us bereaved, injured and traumatized. But we have also experienced many remarkable miracles. Slowly but surely, our enemies are being defeated.
We continue to believe in our mission and our mandate. We are still happy people. Please, God, we will remain happy, strong and faithful, and live to celebrate our complete victory very soon.
