There's an old story from the space race. Almost certainly not true, but it survives anyway, because the point is.
NASA discovers that an ordinary pen won't write in zero gravity. Engineers spend years, and a small fortune, developing a sophisticated "space pen" that will.
Someone asks what the Russians did.
They used a pencil.
Sometimes we get so sophisticated in solving a problem that we forget to ask whether we already own something that works. We commission studies. We measure affiliation, engagement, identity. We pour real resources into understanding how to make sure our children and grandchildren stay Jewish.
All of it important.
But maybe there's an obvious question we don't ask often enough: What produced the Jewish continuity we already have? Because on this one, we're not short on data. We have several thousand years of it.
The Jewish people have lived under just about every set of circumstances imaginable. Empires rose and vanished. We've known persecution and prosperity, isolation and assimilation. Nearly every external variable has changed at least once. And yet, here we are.
Atem nitzavim hayom kulchem, "You are standing here today, all of you." After thousands of years of Jewish history, those words land as almost astonishing: Still here and still standing.
In a letter written shortly before Rosh Hashanah, the Rebbe addressed exactly this question. Anything meant to last, he explained, needs foundations strong enough to hold up while everything around it changes. And Jewish history itself shows us what those foundations have been.
Toras Chayim, Torah as a way of life. For most of our history, Jews didn't pass Judaism down mainly by talking about Jewish identity. They lived Jewish lives. Shabbos. Torah. A mezuzah on the door. Tefillin. Kosher. Tzedakah. Homes built around Jewish rhythms and Jewish commitments.
None of this takes anything away from Jewish culture, memory, community, or identity. But there's a real difference between an expression of Jewish identity and a generator of it. One shows what's already there. The other makes more.
And so, as we walk into Rosh Hashanah, maybe the question isn't how we secure the continuity of the Jewish people.Maybe it's something much more personal:
- What am I doing that's worth continuing?
- What happens in my home because I'm Jewish?
- What will my children remember seeing me do?
- What Jewish practice will be more real in my life next year than it was this year?
That's the conversation I'm hoping we can pick up this Rosh Hashanah. Not a study of the Jewish people from the outside, a look at the one Jewish home each of us actually runs.
Pick one thing. One practice that would be a little more present in your home this year than last. That single pencil line, drawn and drawn again, is how a people that has outlived every empire keeps on standing.
Wishing you and your family a kesivah va'chasimah tovah, a good and sweet new year.
Rabbi Kushi Schusterman