A Message to Those Who Have Stopped Praying for Israel: Don’t

Rabbi Jeremy Kalmanofsky, of New York City’s Ansche Chesed, made waves recently by declaring to the Forward that, following the inauguration of the new Israeli government, he would suspend the reading of the traditional prayer for the State of Israel. 

I feel Kalmanofsky’s pain and, incidentally, I decry the moral panic that his statements unleashed. Those crying foul at his statements willfully forget that during the Oslo process, many on the Orthodox right did exactly the same: either refraining from reciting that prayer entirely or altering the words reshit tzmichat geulatenu (the beginning of the sprouting of our redemption). 

But I also believe that Rabbi Kalmanofsky is wrong. Profoundly so. 

The new cabinet includes racists, criminals and homophobes, and is indeed led by a man who, many fear, will do anything to stay in power and avoid facing justice. But that is precisely why we cannot stop praying for Israel!

A careful, line-by-line look at the beautiful text of the prayer for the State of Israel, as written by Rabbi Yitzhak Halevi Hertzog and edited by Nobel prize winner S.Y. Agnon, will show why we not only need to keep reciting it, but that it’s the perfect prayer for this troubled time. 

A careful, line-by-line look at the beautiful text of the prayer for the State of Israel, as written by Rabbi Yitzhak Halevi Hertzog and edited by Nobel prize winner S.Y. Agnon, will show why we not only need to keep reciting it, but that it’s the perfect prayer for this troubled time. 

“Our father in Heaven,
Rock-fortress and redeemer of Yisra’el —
bless the State of Israel,
the initial blossoming of our redemption.”

The redactors of the prayer say, right from the onset, that Israel is not a finished project. It’s a beginning; it’s not perfect, but perfectible; it’s not a destination, but the beginning of a common journey. It’s the “initial blossom” of a redemption for which we yearned for two thousand years. The road to redemption is winding, convoluted, has dead ends, and detours. But to stop the march is to abandon the hope of realizing our dreams. Who said it would be easy? What nation hasn’t endured bad governments or bad policies? And still Zionism sees itself, intrinsically, as a work in progress that needs our active participation and commitment. 

“Shield her beneath the wings of your lovingkindness;
spread over her your Sukkah of peace;
send your light and your truth.
to its leaders, officers, and counselors,
and correct them with your good counsel.”

When the prayer talks about Israeli leaders, it does not claim that they’re perfect. Rather the opposite. It begs God to send them God’s truth and correct them with God’s counsel. An assumption in the text suggests our leaders must see the light of truth and amend their misguided views through divine intervention. Do we not agree that Benjamin Netanyahu and his cabinet of horror need all the light and correction that God can provide? To that end, we can still hope for the country of peace, covered by a canopy of lovingkindness. 

“Strengthen the defenders of our Holy Land;
grant them, our God, salvation
and crown them with victory.
Establish peace in the land,
and everlasting joy for her inhabitants.”

Our enemies, those that seek to destroy us, don’t care who sits in the Israeli cabinet. Their hatred and their desire to eliminate us existed before Itamar Ben-Gvir, and didn’t necessitate the “excuse” of an extreme government to unleash violence against us. The soldiers of the IDF, a true people’s army and our defenders, are not guarding their government, but their homes. Through their effort and bravery, we are undeservingly privileged to, if we so choose, live in a sovereign, free, Jewish state. Their victory simply means that Israelis — Jews and non-Jews alike — won’t die. Not praying for the IDF to be victorious is like hoping for a Hamas victory, or for an Iranian takeover. We know what would happen to Jews (and to all Israelis) if that were to pass. 

But when we pray for victory, the prayer is very clear about what it wants that victory to bring: not conquest, domination, riches, or power, but “peace and everlasting joy for her inhabitants.” The prayer doesn’t say “joy for Jews,” but for all of the land’s inhabitants; all of them, Jews, Muslim, Christian, and others. The text is a slap in the face to the dystopic, discriminatory dreams of Bezazel Smotrich and Ben-Gvir. 

“Remember our brethren, the whole house of Yisra’el,
in all the lands of their dispersion.
Speedily bring them to Tsiyon, your city,”

The prayer asks for all of us, the house of Israel, wherever we are in the world. It hopes for a harmonious relation, a sacred covenant between all Jews — those living in Israel and those in the Diaspora. It’s an admonition to those in the cabinet that seek to ignore the concerns and aspirations of Diaspora Jews. It is a chastisement for those that seek to delegitimize us.  

The prayer closes with a message of universal harmony.

“Shine forth in your glorious majesty
over all the inhabitants of your world.”

The realization of our national aspirations doesn’t only seek to benefit the Jews. It’s a step in a process of universal redemption; something that, we hope, will make all of humanity better, more peaceful, and just. From the beginning of our existence as a people, our fate was linked with that of the entire human race. Abraham’s journey aims not only to serve his family, but to, “bless all the families of the Earth.” Israel is part of the dialectic of particularism and universalism that Judaism bequeathed the world. 

So this prayer is my prayer; it’s what’s going to give me strength and hope while this coalition threatens the Israel I love. Ceasing to recite this prayer would be a symbol of disengagement, and I can’t — and won’t — disengage from Israel. Israel is not a foreign entity; it’s part of me. You don’t walk away from yourself. Israel is not for me a consumer good that I replace with another; a service that I abandon when it’s not up to my standards. And how facile and cowardly to abandon the fight from the comfort of our armchairs while Israelis take to the street and defend their democracy and their values.

Saying or not saying this prayer is a metaphor for the attitude we’ll take facing these challenging times. It determines whether we look at Israel as a common Jewish project or as a country on probation that we can only love as long as it satisfies us. 

I’m not abandoning the double fight that animates me always: the internal one for the character of my homeland and the external one against those that seek to destroy it. Our enemies will use this government as an excuse to claim that Israel is intrinsically illegitimate. We shouldn’t let them. Did anybody say that America as a country should cease to exist because it elected Donald Trump? Are we boycotting Italian restaurants because the neofascists are in power in Italy? Are we hearing a demand to bring Hungary back to the Austrian Empire because of Viktor Orbán?

My call to Rabbi Kalmanofsky and others that are flirting with hopelessness is to move from despair to engagement and to say this prayer with renewed fervor. But not to limit themselves to prayer.

My call to Rabbi Kalmanofsky and others that are flirting with hopelessness is to move from despair to engagement and to say this prayer with renewed fervor. But not to limit themselves to prayer. Reach out to Israelis that need you. Commit and double down on your engagement with the Israel you love. Don’t let the extremists own the field. Don’t judge Israel from a perch of moral self-righteousness, but from the messiness of our shared space. As in that Hasidic story that says that you can only rescue somebody who’s in a muddy ditch if you descend to the mud yourself and get as dirty as he is. 

Above all, dear Jeremy, understand that what happens there reflects you too. Your fate and Israel’s are inextricably linked. Don’t give succor to those who hate us, because it’s not the bad things of Israel that they hate, but the good ones. 

Understand that, as the prayer says, Israel is not a destination but a journey in which we all participate. As the Hebrew song says: a beginning that doesn’t end.

Andres Spokoiny is President & CEO of Jewish Funders Network (@jfunders), bringing Jewish philanthropists together to maximize their impact.