Peace and/or quiet

Everyone deserves some peace and quiet. Right?

A soldier going through intense rehabilitation in Tel Hashomer Hospital, explained to me on Sukkot why Israel is so alone. “Israel is fighting for peace, but the world wants peace and quiet,” he said.

His point was that defeating the enemy takes a huge toll, but it leads to enduring peace; ceasefires create the sense of quiet, but have inevitably led to further rounds of war.

If all Jews wanted was “peace and quiet”, we could’ve stayed with Noach, a man whose very name indicates serenity and comfort. But this week, we enter parshat Lech Lecha, the story of Abraham, the first Jew. Abraham’s life is characterised by struggle and challenges. Wars, dangerous negotiations, childlessness, inner strife, and constant travel.

G-d’s first instruction to the first Jew is, “Go forth.” Be a wanderer. Be willing to take on new destinations. Get set to challenge the status quo.

Yet, it’s precisely to Abraham that Hashem says, “Venivrechu vecha” (all will be blessed through you). It may not be a quiet journey but ultimately, you will bring peace and blessing.

A number of years ago, a friend reached out for advice. Should they move their family into a very Jewish area, filled with other young observant families, or move into a nicer suburb but with less Jewish vibrancy?

My response to him was that if he was looking for peace and quiet, then he should move into the more Jewish area, with its host of minyanim, shiurim, and like-minded people. But, if he and his wife wished to be “children of Abraham” then they could practice “lech lecha” – they should go forth and embrace a world where they have to serve as an influence and fight for a more Jewishly vibrant community.

They chose the latter, and although life isn’t always as easy for them, their Yiddishkeit is vibrant, relevant, and joyful.

This message was driven home to me this Simchat Torah. A group of us spent the chag in Sderot. While others were getting set to dance for them, we went to dance with them on the first yahrzeit of that terrible day. The hakafot at Chabad of Sderot, led by the three generations of the Pizem family, were conducted with typical joyous abandon and went on until 01:00, without let up.

Afterwards, the stories started coming out, and the tears followed. The Pizem family never left Sderot, not even for a day, serving the traumatised locals and the chayalim more than 600 tons of food. Just two days after 7 October, a soldier entered Chabad to get a square meal, and was shocked to see eight-year-old Avraham Pizem feverishly serving food to people in need. After all, women and children had been evacuated – Sderot was still a war zone!

“What are you doing here?” asked the surprised soldier. To which the kid swiftly retorted, “And what are you doing here?”

“I’m a chayal, a soldier, so I need to be here,” said the fellow.

Avraham Pizem, eight years old, answered simply, “I, too, am a chayal. I’m a shaliach of the Rebbe, and this is my post.”

Forget quiet. Choose lech lecha and peace. Your life may not be simple, but it will be for a blessing.