By Esti DeAngelis, Opinions Editor
Seven months ago, I made a decision that changed the way I see the world. I was bothered by the disconnect from the war in Israel I observed among my friends. Some were overwhelmed by the constant stream of information, others were on a “news cleanse” that never seemed to end. So, I decided to start a WhatsApp chat called Rabos Machshavos (many thoughts) to keep people updated and, more importantly, emotionally connected to the war, with an emphasis on religious concepts like bitachon (trust in God).
In the beginning, I posted news updates and a strange menagerie of whatever else felt right: Torah ideas, hespedim (eulogies) for fallen soldiers, impactful images. Every day I highlighted one hostage and sent a voice note telling their story.
I know that I’m speaking in the past tense as if the chat is no longer active. But it is. The difference is that the chat today isn’t the same chat I started all those months ago. I don’t remember any one moment when things changed, but seven months of evolution can make a world of a difference.
Being a part of this chapter of Jewish history means you stick around through everything, not just when it’s easy.
The gemara (Taanis 30b) teaches that whoever mourns for Yerushalayim will be worthy to see its future joy, and whoever doesn’t mourn won’t be worthy. The goal of my chat is to tell the whole story of this war. That means some days are happy and others are devastating and dizzying, leaving me with questions I still can’t answer. It means that Operation Arnon that freed four hostages in June was probably one of the best days of my life, but it also means that the murder of six hostages just a few months later was one of the worst.
This approach means telling individuals’ stories too, even after so many stop paying attention. I share interviews with released and rescued hostages quite frequently to emphasize that if we celebrated the day they returned to Israel, it’s our job to stay invested and to listen to the stories they brought back with them. I talk about the hostages who are still there because it’s our job to get to know them before they are freed.
All I want is to platform these stories, and they don’t begin when it’s most comfortable for us to listen. You can’t be emotionally checked out when it comes to the hard stuff and then suddenly check back in when it’s time to celebrate. It’s not right, and I actually don’t think it’s possible. If you’ve never heard a mother screaming for her child, will it impact you the same when they are finally reunited?
Jewish role models don’t have to practice Judaism like you do.
Rescued hostage Andrey Kozlov recently shared the five things he wrote down in a notebook every day that kept him going in captivity. One of them read, “You are alive – every day is the gift. If you’re awake, great, you have still a chance to survive.” Released hostage Sapir Cohen said she thanked G-d every morning for putting her in captivity. Other released hostages have shared that Agam Berger refused to work for her captors on Shabbos and that Emily Damari sang “Boker Shel Kef” (“It’s a Great Morning”) every day.
I often wonder why these stories aren’t blasted on every frum social media page and referenced at every opportunity. Why doesn’t everyone view these stories as sources of inspiration the same way they view shiurim? I’m afraid that one answer is because many of these people don’t practice Judaism the way they do. It’s almost like some unintentionally close their minds to this potential inspiration because it comes from sources they don’t deem sufficiently “frum.” My chat has given me an opportunity to override this bias in others and perhaps in myself too. These people are holy, and so are their stories.
Everyone has a role to play in this war.
There’s a Jewish digital artist named Ilan Block who has created hundreds of pieces depicting hostages and those we have lost this past year. More than sharing the artwork on social media, Block coordinates with many of their families to make the piece exactly the way they want it and then sends them a physical copy. When I think about what G-d is calling upon each of us to do in this war, I think about him. There is a job for everyone. Some roles are less obvious than others, but they are all more necessary than we may ever realize.
There are 110 people on my chat today. That’s not a large number, but it’s more than zero. I believe my role in this war is to make an impact on those 109, to keep them updated and connected to the incredible people whose stories we are lucky enough to witness unfolding. It’s not a big job, but I believe it’s what G-d wants from me.
I’ve been told by friends that my chat changes the way they view the war. That, I guess, was the reason I created it in the first place. But I could never have imagined how much it would change me in the process. I once heard Rav Mordechai Burg say that true inspiration makes you see the world in a way that can never be unseen. This WhatsApp chat has been the biggest inspiration of my life.