We’re currently in the Omer period, the time between Passover and Shavuot. Each year, we count 49 days beginning on the second night of Passover, concluding on the eve of Shavuot. Within this sacred time, we observe several modern commemorations: יום השואה (Yom HaShoah/Holocaust Memorial Day), יום הזיכרון (Yom HaZikaron/Israeli Memorial Day), and יום העצמאות (Yom Ha’Atzmaut/Israeli Independence Day). We’ll also mark לג בעומר/Lag B’Omer, which is not exactly modern—but for a people as ancient as ours, even events from the past two thousand years can feel relatively recent.
Since October 7, 2023, much of the Jewish world has found itself engaged in one central, ongoing conversation: Israel. In that time, we have experienced a wide range of emotions—grief, anger, pride, confusion, and hope. Many of us have sought to deepen our understanding of both the State of Israel and the Land of Israel. In doing so, we are reminded of a fundamental truth: Israel is not simply another place on the map. It’s a cornerstone of Jewish identity—the foundation of our peoplehood and the heart of our shared heritage and destiny.
I’ve had the privilege of being in Israel for יום הזיכרון and יום העצמאות, and the experience is unforgettable. These two days, so starkly different in tone, exist side by side. In truth, they form a single, continuous 48-hour observance that tells the story of Israel—and, in many ways, the story of the Jewish people. We begin with mourning: remembering those who were lost, sitting with grief, honoring sacrifice. Then, almost seamlessly, we transition into celebration: marking independence, resilience, and life. Mourning gives way to hope; remembrance transforms into renewal.
This duality is deeply Jewish. To be a Jew is to understand that life is at once difficult and beautiful, heavy with burden and filled with possibility. It’s to live with fear and uncertainty while still holding onto optimism. It’s to feel both at home in the diaspora and, at times, like outsiders. It’s to belong wherever we are, while always carrying a sense of elsewhere.
The past few years have intensified these tensions. They’ve brought moments of deep sorrow and moments of profound pride. We’ve seen hatred and distortion directed at our people, and we rightly grieve a world that can feel unrecognizable. At the same time, we’ve witnessed extraordinary unity within the Jewish community and remarkable strength and courage in Israel’s defense of its people. These, too, are reasons to rejoice.
Each of us carries a responsibility in this moment: to stand with Israel, to support it, and to take pride in our connection to it. To be a Zionist is, at its core, to affirm a simple and enduring truth—that the Jewish people, like all peoples, have the right to live together in their ancestral homeland, the Land of Israel. Efforts to redefine or distort that idea obscure its essential meaning.
As we approach יום הזיכרון and יום העצמאות, we’re invited into that uniquely Jewish rhythm of memory and celebration. We grieve, and we rejoice. We look backward with honor and forward with hope. In doing so, we affirm not only the story of Israel, but the enduring spirit of the Jewish people.
