The Trouble With Sharing Oct. 7 Miracle Stories

After the horrific massacres and kidnappings of October 7, tales of divine intervention went viral in the news and on social media. During a crisis, stories of hope, faith, resilience, and belief in a protective higher power can offer solace and inspiration. But relying on and disseminating these stories can also come at a cost. 

The Jerusalem Post claimed a “Jewish Miracle” when a rocket hit a Sderot home, leaving a famous rabbi’s picture undamaged. Social media brims with tales of sacred items, such as tefillin or books of Psalms, surviving devastating fires. Another widely circulated story recounts how Hamas gunmen bypassed a woman’s home after she, in that very moment, decided to observe the Sabbath, as a plea for divine protection.

Heroic stories inspire and boost morale, while claimed miracle stories often focus on perceived divine interventions, involving events subject to speculation, and may not have concrete evidence.

Distinguishing between claimed miracle stories and accounts of bravery, resilience, and heroism is crucial. Heroic stories inspire and boost morale, while claimed miracle stories often focus on perceived divine interventions, involving events subject to speculation and may not have concrete evidence.

Sharing these selective supposed miracle stories could sow seeds of doubt and pain. For every miraculous tale of escape, there are countless stories that didn’t end well. Over 1,400 deaths and ongoing hostage situations attest to this. 

The selection bias inherent in these widely shared “miracle” stories raises painful questions: Why did some merit divine intervention while others didn’t? This can inflict guilt and spiritual doubt, especially among grieving families thinking maybe they didn’t have enough devotion to merit protection. 

Holocaust survivor Elie Wiesel remarked on his own survival, “Certainly not [a miracle]. If heaven could or would perform a miracle for me, why not for others more deserving than myself?” This sentiment resonates deeply.

Personally, these miracle accounts offer me no comfort. I often wonder why God didn’t save my sister-in-law Henya Federman and niece Shterna, who tragically drowned recently, or my cousin Meir Tamari, who terrorists murdered in the West Bank, or my father who died when I was a teen. Where was their miracle?

Furthermore, over-reliance on divine interventions might also cause some to take a backseat, waiting for a “miracle” rather than addressing challenges and seeking solutions. This is especially concerning during crises, where proactive action is paramount.

A University of Michigan study showed that “placing too much control in divine hands may lessen efforts to seek [medical] treatment or take preventive measures such as quitting smoking.” The study also found that religion contributes to “better life satisfaction” but this is only useful if it doesn’t inhibit proactive effort.

The founder of Hasidic Judaism, the Baal Shem Tov, taught the importance of learning from everyone. A student once chided, so what can we possibly learn from an atheist? The rabbi replied that we should perform good deeds out of an inner sense of morality and in moments of adversity say “I will help” instead of relying on God to intervene. 

Claiming a deep understanding of God’s intention is also presumptuous and problematic. The book of Isaiah reminds us, “for My thoughts are not your thoughts, neither are your ways My ways,” which emphasizes the unknowability of divine intentions. When the philosopher was asked to describe God in three words he blurted “I don’t know!”    

The deeper issue with claiming miracles amid the Oct. 7 horrors is the risk of viewing our fate as transactional rewards for faithfulness, reducing it to mere cosmic bartering. This also opens the door for people to exploit these stories with pernicious claims that if you follow the right religious sect or display enough faith your chance of survival somehow increases. This exploitation isn’t just theoretical; as recently as this past week, the YouTube channel “Stories to Inspire” uploaded numerous videos claiming that observing the Sabbath saved lives on October 7 and could save lives in the future.

My young daughter asked me once what I pray for. I replied with the conventional “peace, prosperity, and health.” Puzzled, she retorted, “But aren’t you supposed to pray for God?” Her innocent question reminded me of the essence of faith, which should transcend doing something for some reward or ulterior motive or supposed divine protection. Our relationship with God should not be transactional but about genuine connection, so let’s be cautious about the stories we spread, ensuring they uplift rather than unintentionally undermine the foundations of faith.

Mr. Federman has written on law and religion in the Wall Street Journal, USA Today, Reuters and others. X: @elifederman