Today marks the halfway point between Purim and Passover, a moment on the Jewish calendar that invites reflection not only on where we are, but on who we are. Jewish history is not simply something we study. It is our living legacy. It is the thread that binds us across generations, across continents, across every challenge we have ever faced.
That is why teaching Torah to Jews around the world has always been at the heart of our mission. A people that knows its story understands its purpose. A people that understands its purpose knows where it is going. A people that knows where it is going remains connected to each other and to the Almighty.

This year, that journey between Purim and Passover feels heavier, deeper, and more urgent.
The war with Iran, which broke out around Purim, carries echoes that are impossible to ignore. The story of Purim itself began with a Persian empire celebrating the destruction of the Temple, followed by a decree that sought to annihilate the Jewish people. History does not repeat itself in simple ways, yet it often reverberates in ways that shake us to our core.
Over the past two-and-a-half years, since the horrific massacre that shattered our hearts, the Jewish people have been forced into a prolonged struggle for survival. Every one of us remembers that moment when our enemies broke through and murdered our brothers and sisters. Every one of us felt the pain as if it were our own family, because in truth, it was.

Through it all, there has been a growing clarity. Iran has long stood as the force behind so much of the hatred, funding, arming, and fueling those who seek our destruction, declaring for decades their desire for death to Israel and death to America. That reality has now come to the forefront in a way that none of us can ignore.
Three weeks into this current escalation, Jewish hearts are pulled in many directions. Fear, strength, exhaustion, pride, unity, and longing all exist together. Yet in the midst of everything, something extraordinary continues to reveal itself.
The Jewish people are coming together.

Ben Gurion Airport has been extraordinarily difficult to navigate. Travel in and out of Israel is complicated and uncertain. Despite that, two powerful and seemingly opposite movements have taken place.
Many students have left Israel to be with their families for the holidays. This happens almost every year, and it is not an abandonment. Being with family over the holidays is an expression of who we are. Jews gather with family in times of significance, especially during Pesach, when our identity is reaffirmed around the table.
At the very same time, every student I have spoken to who has left is already planning their return. Their commitment to come back, to continue learning, to continue growing in Israel, remains unwavering.

The opposite movement is equally powerful. Israelis who were abroad have been urged by many to stay away, to remain in safety while the conflict intensifies. Their response has been simple and profound. They are going home. They are going back to their people.
This is something the world struggles to understand. We are not merely a religion. We are not just a nation in the conventional sense. We are a family.
Family means showing up. Family means standing together. Family means that when one part of the Jewish people is under threat, the rest of us feel it as our own.
After October 7th, countless Jews who had felt distant from Judaism or from Israel found themselves boarding planes, returning to serve, to support, to stand with their brothers and sisters. Something deep within the Jewish soul awakens in moments like these. It reminds us of who we truly are.

There is, however, a concern that cannot be ignored. Unity born out of crisis is powerful, but it is not enough. The unity we have experienced over these past years must not fade when the immediate threat subsides.
Unity cannot depend solely on danger. It must be rooted in love.
At Aish, we speak about wisdom, love, and responsibility. These are the foundations of Jewish survival.
Responsibility means that every Jew matters. Every Jew is part of our story.
Wisdom means that we understand our Torah, our history, and the reasons we stand where we stand.
Love is what binds it all together. Love for one another. Love for our people. Love for the Almighty.
That love must rise above everything else.
For those outside of Israel, it is important to understand the reality on the ground. Missiles are raining down night after night in a way that is unprecedented. Families are being awakened multiple times each night, running to bomb shelters, living in a constant state of tension and exhaustion.
We must storm the gates of heaven on their behalf.
Our soldiers carry not only weapons, but faith. A close relative of mine was recently called up and sent to Israel’s northern front near Lebanon. His questions to his rabbis were not about fear or hesitation. They were about Shabbos. Could he be home Friday night before going in? How should he navigate being called up on Shabbos? Even as he prepared to enter a dangerous situation, his focus remained on his connection to Hashem and to halacha.

Another relative, during the early days of the war, was unable to keep Shabbos in the usual way due to the demands of saving lives. In those moments, he would review the laws of Shabbos in his mind, ensuring that even when circumstances required action, his commitment and clarity never wavered.
This is the Jewish people.
This Shabbos, while many of us will sit at our tables in relative calm, there will be Jews running to shelters. There will be soldiers unable to observe Shabbos as they wish. Let us hold them in our hearts. Let us daven for them with strength and sincerity.

The work being done by the students, staff, and global movement of Aish over these weeks has been inspiring. There is so much to be proud of. There is so much more to be done.
Each of us sees the hatred that continues to spread across the world. Each of us feels the weight of being judged for defending our own lives. Yet the essence of our story has always been the same. There are those who seek to destroy us, and we choose life.
We choose love.
We choose to stand together.
We choose to remain proud Jews, connected to each other and to the Almighty.
As we move toward Passover, the holiday of redemption, let us carry with us the memory of those we have lost, the courage of those who are fighting, and the responsibility we all share.
May we go forward with strength, with unity, and with an unshakable sense of who we are.





