A Little Shake for Jews with Keffiyehs
10/19/24
Many would say that October 7th brought the Jewish people together more than ever before. And it certainly has. But while that's true, it's also undeniable that the past year highlighted painful divisions within the Jewish community.
Earlier this month, a viral video spread on social media showing a Chabad boy helping a Jewish college student lay the tefillin while the latter was wearing a keffiyeh at an anti-Israel protest.
Chabad is as pro-Israel as they come, and the tefillin-helper wasn’t there to support the protest. He was there because he knew there would be Jews present, and he believed that every mitzvah is precious, no Jew is too far, and that maybe this one act would reawaken a soul.
As you might imagine, the video drew diverse and passionate reactions. Some lauded the young man’s efforts. "This is why I love Chabad — they have an unwavering love for all Jews and don't lose hope in their fellow Yid," one person commented. "Maybe, just maybe, one of these guys will see the light and begin to spread it," wrote another.
But others felt this was a step too far. “He's wearing a keffiyeh. Does he really need to be embraced?" one commenter asked. "He is marching alongside Jew haters; he should be cursed, not blessed. Disgraceful," another wrote. "I love Chabad, but I’m not sure I support this. We don’t need them," added someone else.
Admittedly, when I first saw the video, I felt rather uncomfortable. Why are we standing with people who march alongside our greatest enemies, calling for the destruction of Israel and putting the lives of millions of their fellow Jews in danger?
But tonight we celebrate Sukkot. We'll gather and eat in the Sukkah for a week full of celebrations. The wrap of the sukkah symbolizes G-d's embrace following our judgment on Rosh Hashanah and our repentance on Yom Kippur.
In addition to eating in a sukkah, we observe the weeklong holiday by shaking the lulav and etrog, also known as "the four kinds." We take a lulav (palm branch), etrog (citron), hadasim (myrtles), and aravot (willows), and we hold them all together and give them a little shake.
Unlike the other three kinds, the willow is bland, void, and empty. It has no taste like the lulav and no great fragrance like the etrog and myrtle.
The Midrash writes that the willow is like the sinner, the Jew who doesn’t engage with the community in Torah and mitzvot. Lacking the taste and smell of Judaism, the willow, like the wicked son at the Seder, "excludes himself from the Jewish community."
Passover is the holiday that marks our becoming a people. When a nation is formed, its lines and boundaries must be clear, and the community must be decisive in its policies. The birth of a nation is an exciting moment, but also one of judgment and discipline. The formation of a people is not the time to embrace dissenters. And at the Seder, we make this clear to the wicked son: "Knock out his teeth," we say.
But on Sukkot, we bring all the four Jews together. It is a holiday when G-d embraces us, and we embrace each other, despite our differences. Even the very great and painful ones.
We gather the four kinds together and remind the lulav and etrog that no matter how distant another Jew might seem, they are still part of our people, and it is you who must bring them closer with a loving embrace.
And we remind the willow that despite their distance from the Jewish community, they are ultimately—and will always be—still connected.
And we remind them both, that sometimes, all it takes to reignite the connection is a little shake.