JEWISH RESILIENCE: MEMORY, SURVIVAL, AND JOY

Over the holiday (Shavuot, not Memorial Day) I found myself thinking a great deal about resilience. That's probably a normal thing for people dealing with illness, but perhaps less common is relating it to Shavuot.

Let me begin with the very brief reminder that Shavuot is the ancient agricultural festival in which our ancestors brought the first fruits of the harvest— the bikkurim—to the Temple in Jerusalem. As commanded by the Torah, at the short ceremony to present their offerings they were to ritually recite the story of the Jewish people: how we were oppressed and survived; how we were liberated and wandered; and how we ultimately came to settle in the Land of Israel.

That commandment ended with these words:

“Rejoice in all the good that has been given to you.”

Why?

Because that is an essential element of resilience. And that's something that we Jews would always need.

Jews do not deny the reality of pain, danger, grief, or fear. We carry memory with us everywhere. We even joke about it when we say that every holiday is basically "they tried to kill us, we prevailed, let's eat." This is not technically true but it definitely captures the awareness of Jewish resilience.

Despite all of our jokes, Judaism is not a civilization built only around anxiety and survival. Even as we are scrupulous in remembering, our tradition insists that memory must also lead us back toward gratitude, joy, and the celebration of life itself.

Back in February I shared this message at Texas Hillel. I had a feeling that they needed to hear it.

Like too many Jews, our college students are confronting rising Jew-hatred. It brings feelings of isolation, experiences of intimidation, and a frightening sense of uncertainty. All of this, I reminded them, can make it very difficult to access that sense of joy the Torah wants us to express.

And yet Jewish history teaches that one of the great secrets of Jewish resilience has been precisely our refusal to surrender celebration, meaning, and communal life even during the difficult times.

The British Jewish thinker Melanie Phillips once spoke how "the secret sauce" of Jewish endurance is that Jews “simply love what we are.” She is correct. It is because we see ourselves as part of an unbroken chain stretching across generations. We know that it is a chain that connects us to those who struggled and suffered. But we also know that it is a chain that connects us to those who survived, rebuilt, and carried Jewish life forward. We remember their hardships not only to mourn them, but to be inspired by their resilience and they many ways they continued to write the Jewish story.

The Jewish response to darkness cannot be retreat.

The only appropriate response is to continue to live as Jews, openly and proudly. To gather together. To celebrate Shabbat and holidays. To study, sing, argue, laugh, build friendships, support one another, and nurture our vibrant Jewish communities. L'dor va-dor—from generation to generation—we have found our way to bringing gladness and gratitude as “first fruits” to the continuing story of our people.

As we all must learn through the ups and downs of our own lives, resilience does not mean ignoring reality. The Torah’s command to rejoice was meant to teach precisely that truth. To remind us that, despite everything, life itself remains sacred and worth celebrating.

That spirit has carried the Jewish people through every generation before us. It can carry us now as well.

לחיים!

L'chaim!

To Life!