Walk with the Wise and Become Wise

Friday January 30, 2026/12 Sh'vat 5786/Parashat B'Shalach Shabbat Shirah

Hevre/Friends,

What a week. 

An emotional rollercoaster.

Ran Gvili, z”l, was finally brought home from Gaza for burial. 

Closure for the hostages. 

Relief for us all. 

Ongoing heartbreak for the devastation of October 7, as the families whose lives were shattered keep searching for how to carry their burdens. (Read Rachel Goldberg Polin’s aching essay this week here.)

Chaos, shootings, and the killing of Alex Pretti on the streets of US cities, especially Minneapolis, at the hands of government-authorized ICE agents. Unfathomable. Dystopian. What has become of the United States? 

And on a personal note: the death and burial of Meryle Keller, z”l, at the age of 93 - a longtime member of Sha’ar; the community I founded and led in northern NJ/NYC for twenty years.

Sadness. Nostalgia. Gratitude.

Meryle was part of an energetic cohort of seniors who participated actively in our weekly Beit Midrash study group and our annual travel programs. We explored the world together; the world of our souls and the literal world of different countries and cultures, seeking not only to understand those who are different from us, but to consider more deeply who we are and how we show up in the world - as Jews and as human beings.

Primarily mental health practitioners, community organizers, and social justice activists, these seniors not only brought their passion and dedication to our events, but invested them in our efforts to forge a courageous and committed Jewish vision for ourselves. Their generation lived through so many seminal historic eras: the Shoah, the founding of the State of Israel, McCarthyism, the civil rights struggle, the Vietnam War, and more. For many, the civic Judaism they practiced took priority over any ritual observance with which they might have been raised. But make no mistake: these were, and are, serious Jews devoted to their Jewish identity and to the moral claims it makes upon us. In these dark times, I yearn for their light. I summon my memories of their presence and their sense of purpose to refine my own.

If you were part of Sha’ar, you know who I’m talking about. If you weren’t, I’m honoured to introduce you to them through this reflection. With them in mind, as we struggle with the madness in Minnesota, the violent turmoil in Iran and its potential larger fallout, the ongoing settler violence in the West Bank, still-raging antisemitism, and so many other confounding realities that imperil not only physical safety but moral clarity, try turning to the elders in your own lives. Hold them close. Probe their memories. Mine their experiences. Study their Torah. What did they live through? Where did they find strength? What gave them courage? Who gave them hope? What actions did they take? How did they try to help?

That’s exactly what I did after Meryle’s funeral. My 95-year old friend George and I had tea as we often do. As a young boy, George escaped from Germany to New York right after Kristallnacht in 1938. He is a proud American, albeit one with a long memory and incisive insight into history, politics, power, and danger. His reflections on the world have captivated me for more than three decades during which I’ve turned to him often for perspective, understanding, comfort. I’m grateful for every conversation. There are times when George helps me appreciate the differences between these times and the ones he lived through. There are times when we just commiserate over the appalling state of the world and take comfort in the fellowship we cherish; a reminder that there are people who share our outrage, our resistance to evil, and our relentless belief in change.

When the Sages commented on the Torah’s commandment to respect the aged, they explained that it doesn’t hinge on someone’s knowledge, status or wealth. We rise in their presence simply to recognize the sheer amount of time they’ve been alive, and honour all they’ve experienced throughout their days and nights. May we, too, be blessed with length of years, the opportunity to make them count, and the wisdom they impart so we’ll also be able to share it with those who come after us. And may they never need it as much as we do now. 

With prayers for the return of sanity and respect to the streets of our cities, for healing and peace, and with blessings for a Shabbat Shalom,

Dini

(Photo by Ronen Avisror)