The Higher Calling

There are a few stories in the Torah that always stand out to me. The first appears when G-d upgrades Jacob’s name to Israel, meaning “He who wrestled with G-d,” for his boldness in authenticity; the other when Avram earns the letter “hay” —  the initial of Hashem — to become Avraham, for his boldness in generosity. Both symbolize points in our patriarchs’ lives where they boldly stepped up to a higher calling, and Hashem rightfully acknowledged them for doing so. They were no longer who they had been — but somehow forever changed. Forever evolved. Forever held to a higher standard. 

Last month, I experienced what I believe was my own personal moment of transformation before G-d. I was in Rome, at the Great Synagogue and Museum in the Jewish ghetto. I walked out of that synagogue as a different person than when I walked in. I would like to share my story.

I walked down the steps of this museum looking at yet another collection of remnants and artifacts of what was once a vibrant Jewish community. Perhaps these artifacts hit me more powerfully as what I had been looking at was the first trace of the Jewish diaspora, when Jews came to Rome as slaves after the destruction of the Beit Hamikdash some 2,000 years ago. 

I ran my fingers over the tombstones, menorahs … the proof of Jewish life. 

“How much? How much have we tolerated?” I began having flashbacks of the many similar museums and abandoned temples I have visited. My family and I are avid travelers and make it a point to explore Jewish heritage sites around the world.

I couldn’t help but think, “How many museums? How many monuments? How many dedications symbolizing our oh so familiar narrative — Jews came here, set up shop, tried to live peacefully, pray faithfully and were kicked out, massacred and sent away, only to naively try again somewhere else?” 

How many times have we tried to plant our flag across the four corners of this earth — only to have the same story repeat itself? How often are we going to be thrown around hoping this time will be different? This time they will accept us. This time they will defend us. This time they will protect us. Only to find instead of our flourishing community yet another monument that documents we once existed.

I felt myself falling to my knees, sobbing from the depths of my soul, only to rise again with a certainty I have never experienced — an unwavering, unapologetic fervor as I began to shout ENOUGH IS ENOUGH. 

Something took over me in that moment. Maybe that was my Avraham and Jacob moment. I felt myself falling to my knees, sobbing from the depths of my soul, only to rise again with a certainty I have never experienced — an unwavering, unapologetic fervor as I began to shout ENOUGH IS ENOUGH. 

We don’t want your memorials.
We don’t want your monuments.
We don’t want your museums.
We want our home. 

As this calling took over me, I kept walking through this museum to find one of the seven original signed copies of Israel’s declaration of independence, with a huge framed photo of David Ben-Gurion making his famous speech when he declared Israel’s sovereignty. 

And I got it. That same fervor that I felt. That same unwavering determination is what our founding Zionist fathers felt that said we have no other choice- “ein li eretz achere” — that same force that pulled our people together from those very four corners back home. With such vision. With such determination with such a conviction that there is simply no other choice, because like me, like you, like us all — Herzl, Ben-Gurion, Golda —  all said enough is enough. 

They were called forward and they answered the call boldly.

As I looked up at that photo of Ben-Gurion, I felt I was a different person. It was almost as though my soul hugged his soul, saying, “I feel you. I share your steadfast resolve.” I never before understood how he had the courage, how he had the execution to achieve such a return. I understood then and there how. It was this sense that there is no other choice for our survival. There is no other home for our people but Israel. 

No one is coming to save us. We must save ourselves.  We have no one but each other.  

I assure you what took over me there as I looked at him was this: Had Ben-Gurion not already declared Israel an independent nation, I assure you that in that moment I would have. For in that moment, I went from being Rona the Israel activist, to Rona the relentless Zionist. 

We, as the Jewish people, are facing that exact fork in the road, that pivotal point in our journey as a nation right now. Where we are called upon by our one homeland, our one family and our one G-d and after what we have been called forward to witness, to fight to overcome the past two months has also forever changed us. 

What is our call forward? 

There was a calling forward that Abraham and Jacob answered in the Bible. 

There was a calling forward that the Maccabees answered in the story of Hanukkah.

There was a calling forward of Herzl and Ben-Gurion in the establishment of Israel’s independence. 

Amazing things happen when we answer the calling: Hanukkah was a miracle. Israel is a miracle. We are a miracle. The Jewish people are a miracle. 

It’s because we answered the higher calling. We are a people who answer the call. We rise up. We shine our light even brighter.

And there is a calling forward of you that you must answer as well. The mission has and always will be the same: Our people need to go back home — today with the hostages, that mission is a quite literal one. 

Enough is enough.

As we continue to process the devastating stories of Oct. 7, let’s ask ourselves: What is the personal transformation G-d awaits from you?

Rona Ram Lalezary is creator of The Divine Download Podcast and a transformative life coach.