A few weeks earlier, George had been called to aid a 96-year-old man in great pain. George said to the elderly man: “This is probably the worst day of your life, right?” The man looked at George and said: “No. The worst day of my life was when I was in Birkenau.” The elderly man went on to describe memories of a particularly horrific day there. I was taken aback; it felt like the heavens had opened. My late mother was a survivor of Birkenau, and to me, this story was personal. Immediately my perspective changed; I realized that whatever pain I was experiencing, it did not compare in any way to what my mother had endured. And that gave me hope. If my mother got through it, so could I. When your challenges are overwhelming, you need a hero; and at that difficult moment in the ambulance, I was lucky to have one. Since last October 7th, we have been enveloped by a gloomy darkness, pulled down by extraordinary sorrow. But what has made it bearable were the heroes, the tiny points of light that remind us that there is hope and that we must hope. But who is a hero? Mythology depicts heroes as supernatural. Hercules, Achilles, Gilgamesh, and Thor, among others, are all descendants of the gods. This definition of heroism remains extremely influential. Yes, movie superheroes have superpowers, for sure. But in our day-to-day lives, our perspective about who is and isn’t important is shaped by a cult of celebrity. The financial elite are called “corporate titans” and “masters of the universe”; and these terms are more than mere metaphor. Athletes and movie stars, larger-than-life characters who appear on the big screen are revered, and their moral failings are overlooked. Our contemporary heroes are very different from you and me. Sadly, firefighters, teachers, and police officers don’t count. They are not wealthy, not famous, and not glamorous, and therefore unworthy of inclusion in the pantheon of heroes. Their exceptional service is taken for granted, while the crowd chases celebrities. In his 1978 essay Catharsis, Rabbi Joseph Soloveitchik focuses on the contrast between what he calls the “classical” (Greek) and “biblical” perspectives on heroism. The classical vision of heroism, which is deeply rooted in mythology, is theatrical, outward feats of strength that elicit the cheers of the crowd. (Think Olympics.). Raw power and public adulation combine to create the classical hero. Judaism offers a very different view of heroism. It distinguishes between raw power, koach, and gevurah, inner strength. Heroism is best described by the Mishnah in Pirkei Avot: Who is a hero? One who can control his own heart. Gevurah, true heroism, comes from inside; it is about the person’s self-control, even self-negation, in the service of a higher cause. It is a function of one’s spiritual nature and a reflection of their higher calling. This Biblical definition of heroism offers three critical lessons. The first is that the hero is a mensch. The Mishnah connects heroism to virtue; and true heroes are motivated by love, not hate. On October 7th, we saw so many who were true heroes. One of the mantras I heard from Israelis in the last year was a quote, (originally from C. K. Chesterton,) that a “true soldier fights not because he hates what is in front of him, but because he loves what is behind him.” There are a multitude of stories from Israel that reflect this idea; I will mention one, far too briefly. At Zikim Base near the border of Gaza, the army was in the middle of training 90 new soldiers who had just been drafted two months earlier. The base was attacked by 50 Hamas terrorists. The commanders of the base, fourteen in total, sent the trainees into a shelter. Then they took on the battle themselves. And they saved the 90 trainees. Tragically, seven of those who went into battle died: Maj. Adir Meir Abudi, 23 Capt. Or Moses, 22 (She insisted on being in a combat unit, despite getting into an elite intelligence unit.) Lt. Adar Ben Simon, 20 2nd Lt. Yannai Kaminka, 20: (US-Israeli soldier) Staff Sgt. Eden Alon Levy, 19 Lt. Yoav Malayev, 19 Cpl. Neria Aharon Nagari, 18 These young men and women courageously sacrificed their lives to save others. Yes, they were excellent soldiers; they had to be, to be able to fight off such a large group of terrorists. But what made them heroes was their willingness to be there for others, to stand up for others. The second lesson is that heroes stand ready to leap into the absurd. Rabbi Soloveitchik offers the biblical story of Jacob’s wrestling match with the angel as an example of a heroic struggle. He explains Jacob was extremely impractical in taking on the battle: Was Jacob's victory something to be expected; could it have been predicted logically? Was he certain of victory? Of course not. He was alone, weak and unarmed, a novice in the art of warfare. His antagonist was a powerful professional warrior. So why didn’t Jacob surrender to the foe who attacked him in the dark? The answer Rabbi Soloveitchik offers is that a Jewish hero has to be willing to leap into the absurd. (He borrows this phrase from Kierkegaard.) There are times when you must fight for a better future, even if you have to face impossible odds. Jacob leaps into the absurd. He takes on an angel because his destiny demands it. And then the improbable happens: Jacob wins. One leaps into the absurd when the dreams of the future are more important than the practicalities of the present. And that is the story of the Jewish people. As Rabbi Soloveitchik puts it: Is this merely the story of one individual's experience? Is it not in fact the story of Knesset Israel, an entity which is engaged in an "absurd" struggle for survival for thousands of years? We are called Israel, the name awarded to Jacob that fateful night he wrestled with the angel, because we wouldn’t be here if generations of Jews before us hadn’t wrestled through the darkest of nights, again and again. We wouldn’t be here today if they hadn’t believed the absurd to be possible. In short, Jewish heroes are willing to take long shots because they are part of a people who are the longest of long shots. One of those long shots was the Entebbe raid on July 4, 1976. Terrorists had hijacked a plane and taken it to Uganda. They held over 100 Israeli and Jewish passengers hostage. In what remains to this day the most daring rescue in military history, the Israeli army flew 2,500 miles to save them and take them home. This long-shot rescue continues to inspire. When Natan Sharansky was imprisoned by the Soviet Union in 1978, it was the heroes of Entebbe that gave him courage, even when he was being threatened with the death penalty. Sharansky would explain: "Each time when I heard the engine of an airplane in Siberia, I thought about Israeli airplanes. And I remembered Entebbe. I knew that a day would come when an Israeli airplane would come to take me out of prison. And that day came.” Jewish heroes are willing to leap into the absurd. Just a few months ago, on June 8th, we had another long-shot rescue when Israeli troops brought the hostages Noa Argamani, Almog Meir Jan, Andrey Kozlov, and Shlomi Ziv back home. It was an exceedingly difficult operation. Ben, who has spoken at KJ, is in a unit that took part in the rescue. He told us they had trained for over two months non-stop to bring these four hostages home. And they did. You have to watch the videos of the rescues. In one, the soldiers burst into the room where they are held. Initially, the hostages think these are Hamas terrorists, coming to murder them - and then, in a moment - after the soldiers say “don’t worry, we are taking you home” - their faces change from sorrow to relief. When Noa Argamani says to the soldiers that she’s scared, they tell her not to worry, they will protect her. And when the soldiers are leaving, they call their commanders and say: “The diamonds are in our hands.” So my question is: What other country besides Israel does this? What other country thinks this way? Wasn’t this hostage rescue absurd? Yes it was. But Israel, a country named after an underdog who wrestled an angel, is willing to leap into the absurd. Because that’s what true heroes do. The third, and most important lesson of Biblical heroism is: Everybody can be a hero. The way the Tanakh depicts heroes offers two important insights. First, great heroes like David and Solomon are human beings, with flaws and failures. Second, that ordinary, humble people, like Ruth and Esther, can overnight become great heroes. Heroism is a gift of the soul, and every one of us can step up and be a hero too. And that is what Rami Davidian did. On October 7th, many Israelis rushed to the Gaza border to help. One of the most extraordinary stories is about Rami Davidian, 59, a soft-spoken father of four and a fuel distributor from Moshav Patish near Gaza. To make a long story short, he got a call from a friend to save the friend’s son from the nearby Nova site. He took his truck to the boy’s location. And there he saw hundreds of young people running in every direction. So Rami began to rescue them. He called his son and others to help. After 18 hours of non-stop rescue work, ducking bullets and facing down terrorists, Rami saved 700 people. 700 people!! When Rami Davidian got out of bed on October 7th, he was an ordinary person. When he finally went to sleep, he was an extraordinary hero. Now, there is one final point. We are all obligated to be heroes. Maimonides writes that the shofar is meant to rouse us from our spiritual sleep and recognize our responsibilities. But this lesson goes far beyond Rosh Hashanah. In the next paragraph, he explains that we need to stay spiritually awake for the entire year, and take our responsibilities seriously instead of daydreaming. This is what he writes: Therefore, every person should see themselves throughout the entire year as half righteous and half guilty. And so too, that the entire world is half righteous and half guilty. If one sins a single sin, they have tilted themselves and the entire world to the side of guilt and brought about destruction. If one performs a single commandment, they have tilted themselves and the entire world to the side of merit and brought salvation for themselves and for others. In other words, the fate of the world depends on you. What you do next can change everything; it is up to you to be a hero. I know this congregation. You have done so much. You have volunteered, donated, advocated, and marched for Israel. But in the coming year, we will need you to do more; because the fate of the world is still in your hands. And I know you will step up, because you are the children of Jacob who wrestled into the night, you are the children of generations of Jews who never lost hope. You are the children of Israel, the first unlikely Jewish hero. And undoubtedly you will be heroes too. Shanah Tovah!! | 
