Purim and the War Against Iran
8 min read
What does it mean to be a Jew? Throughout my life, I encountered the word "Jew" used as a casual slight, albeit jokingly, but never as a compliment. On a personal level, my Jewishness was a fact but not a source of pride. My relationship with Judaism wasn't much better. I didn't connect to the seemingly arbitrary and random religious practices and I loathed the long and boring prayer services. Sitting in Synagogue, I remember calculating when to pretend to need the bathroom so as to break up the monotony in optimal intervals.
In order to appreciate anything, you have to understand its purpose and how it works. If you own a Ferrari but don’t know how to operate it, you'll tear out the seats and use them as lawn chairs.
This disconnect between possession and understanding perfectly described my own Jewish journey. In my case, after my Bar Mitzvah, I just left the Ferrari in the garage and went off to what I thought were bigger and better things.
If only I'd learned the most essential principle of Judaism; a principle so fundamental that we can find it in the etymology of the words Jew, Jewish, and Judaism. Why are we called Jews? Our exploration begins in this week’s Torah portion.
After Jacob receives Esau’s blessings from his father Isaac, he flees to Padan Aram to escape his brother’s wrath. There, he works seven years for his deceptive, double-crossing uncle, Lavan, in order to win Lavan’s daughter Rachel’s hand in marriage.
On the night of their wedding, Lavan switches the sisters, tricking Jacob into marrying his older daughter, Leah. A week later, Lavan gives Rachel to Jacob as a second wife in exchange for 7 more years of work. Soon after, the two sisters give their maidservants, Bilhah and Zilpah, as wives to help build the Jewish nation. Their selfless act brings the number of Jacob’s wives to four.
The four matriarchs knew prophetically that Jacob would father 12 sons, who would become the 12 tribes of the Jewish nation. Leah, who we can assume was a proficient math student, understood that with four mothers, a natural division would allocate three sons to each mother (12 / 4 = 3). But, lo and behold, Hashem blessed her beyond her allotted portion.
Upon giving birth to her fourth son, Leah exclaimed, “‘This time let me gratefully praise (אודה) Hashem!’; therefore she called his name Yehuda (יהודה)” (Genesis, 29:35). Rashi explains Leah's thought process: “Because [God] gave me more than my portion, now it is incumbent upon me to give thanks (להודות).”
We learn from these verses that name Yehuda means "I will give thanks." Yehuda, the tribe of leadership of the Jewish nation, became the namesake for all the Jewish people – the Yehudim. Yehudim adapted over time to the words Jew and Jewish. Putting the pieces together, Gratitude → Yehuda → Yehudim → Jews. Our name describes our essence; we are the people who give thanks; the grateful nation; the nation who gives thanks for being given more than our fair share. Wow!
Let’s go a step further. If a Jew is one who gives thanks, then Judaism is the religion of giving thanks. R. Dessler, one of the great Mussar teachers of the last century, in his Essay on Lovingkindness, summarizes:
"The true service of God is built on a foundation of gratitude. It is stated with the utmost clarity in all the books of Tanach (Torah, Prophets, Writings) that we have a duty to be thankful to Hashem for all the good He bestows on us. Gratitude is the motivation of our observance of all the mitzvos and statutes of the Torah."1
The equation is as follows: God gives to us (Life, Torah, abundance, meaning, opportunity, etc.), we feel appreciation, we look for outlets to reciprocate (i.e. the mitzvos) and carry them out with joy, and we end up in a loving relationship with God. That's Judaism in a nutshell!2
I remember the moment where this truth became clear to me. After my Birthright trip in Israel, I visited my good friend from college, now studying at Aish HaTorah - a yeshiva in Jerusalem. Sitting together at the Western Wall, he challenged me to think about my relationship to my Creator. Prior to this, I had built a relationship to God for approximately two years through journaling, meditating, and praying, but not through any religious medium.
Pondering his question, I entered a deep state of contemplation. My face pressed against the ancient stones, and the murmur of prayers filled the air like a gentle tide. Minutes passed. Then all of a sudden, it hit me: "Here was all this blessing – family, friends, food, shelter, travel, experiences, meaning... life itself! And what did I do to deserve any of it? Nothing!"
From the depths of my heart, I felt a need to say "Thank You" to God for all I’d been given. But how? I opened my eyes and looked around at the Jews nearby. I saw them shuckling back and forth in devotion, chanting words out of their books, and pouring over ancient texts. I thought to myself: If God made me Jewish, then maybe the best way I could show Him my appreciation is through Judaism!
That realization changed everything. The next day, I bought a copy of the Torah, a kippah (which I only wore on Shabbat at first) and began my Jewish journey.
I'd like to end by sharing a very practical and enjoyable way to bring more gratitude into your life. During the Covid lockdown, every Friday night during the Shabbay evening meal, my mom and I started a practice of sharing what we were grateful for from that week; a practice that I carry on with my wife to this day.
I encourage you to do the same. Pause from your eating, alone, or with loved ones and reflect on what you are grateful for. You can aim to include three things; something small, something present, and something big. This simple practice embodies what it truly means to be a Jew - to recognize and give thanks for the blessings in our lives.
Through consistent practice of gratitude, we will be inspired to carry out our Divine mission of bringing God’s love and goodness down into our world through His Torah and commandments.
Shabbat Shalom!
