Refusing to lose faith on Simchat Torah despite tragedy - opinion

In the wake of October 7, I had the opportunity to engage with survivors of the most brutal attack on the Jewish people since the Holocaust. I commonly asked: “Did you lose faith in God?” Responses varied, but none were as striking as that of a Supernova music festival survivor, who, while wearing a tallit, said she now has more faith in God than ever.

Last week we honored the conclusion of Sukkot, a holiday during which God envelops us in His embrace. 

We reached the climax of our joyous holy season with Shemini Atzeret and Simchat Torah, when we pronounced the prayers for rain while delighting in and with the Torah. 

The Torah provides clear moral guidance. The Nova survivor suggested that one of these moral duties is hope. “After a season of rain, the sun always shines a little brighter – that’s life, the work of God,” she said, “God does not leave us.”

Having just commemorated the first yahrzeit of the October 7 massacre on Simchat Torah, we know that the simcha, or happiness, of the holiday will never again shine as brightly as we would desire. 

However, just as we bless the solemn conclusion of Moses’s passing in the Torah, we have the opportunity to bless the rainy season that Israel will experience, in the spirit of its meaning, principles, and legacy.

While rain blackens soil, it makes the land more fertile. 

Finding meaning in suffering 

During an era of mourning, the teachings of the Torah become more pronounced as we search for meaning in the whirlwinds of suffering and grief. “Sensitive people who [are] used to a rich intellectual life may [suffer] much pain but the damage to their inner selves [is] less,” Holocaust survivor Victor Frankl writes... “by accepting this challenge to suffer bravely, life has a meaning up to the last moment.”

The power of intellect is a form of suffering bravely, and, as Frankl says, can give life meaning. The rain we bless on Shemini Atzeret and the rainy season that follows in Israel prime our minds for national growth and strength. 

The final moments of Moses’ life and his inability to enter the promised land before his death, are inscribed in the final words of the Torah. 

As we restart the annual Torah cycle, we are reminded that even though we may not achieve all our goals in a single lifetime, we are descendants of a line of ancestors who have carried theirs forward. 

At the age of 120 and after a lifetime of challenges, Moses’ “eyes [remained] undimmed and his natural force unabated” because he never shied away from obstacles and committed to passing on his torch of responsibilities as he looked over at the land of Israel.

 Moses, the personification of leadership, shepherded generations into grazing on the teachings of the Torah, nourishing future generations with its most valuable lessons.

On Shemini Atzeret, we are commanded to bless not only the rain but the many divine manifestations of water. These are reminders of the many times that the Jewish people have been divided and united, weakened and strengthened. 

Consider the divine splitting of the Sea of Reeds as the Jewish people escaped Egypt. Like Moses and the many biblical figures before him, we must uphold our ideals and principles even in the face of pouring rain where we deem light irredeemable. 

Asking for God's blessing of life 

The conclusion of the prayer for rain acknowledges that the Jewish people are “surrounded by troubles like water” and asks for God’s blessing of life. 

Indeed, troubles have rained on us and crashed upon us in tsunamis of terror and hate. Yet, on Shemini Azteret, we prayed that “God does not hold back water,” because, in its uniquely distilling and purifying way, water discloses the truth that, sometimes, we do not want to face, but must.

Celebration and life, at times, mask the daily troubles we tend to ignore. However, on the last days of the Torah cycle, it is a divine command to purify our consciousness and see the truth – even the troubles – amid our celebrations. 

As we committed on Simchat Torah to dancing again, we are commanded to remember the victims of October 7 and refuse to let our faith dwindle. We are commanded to remember the mistakes that led to such a tragedy.

The memory of Shiri Golan, an October 7 survivor whose unbearable trauma led her to take her own life, should bring home to us the importance of the responsibility we bear not only toward our loved ones but all our fellow Jews. 

The spike in crimes against Jews around the world should serve as a reverberating reminder that we bear the responsibility to look beneath the surface to uproot the source of the hate, even if we are not direct victims of the pogroms in Israel or the riots on campuses. 

The Torah and Jewish history serve as paths we must follow with principled personal responsibility. Free will coupled with responsibility is Jewish liberty and rewards us with the grace of the divine.

The writer is a senior at George Washington University.