Not to be an alarmist, but we could be on the brink, once again, of facing great challenges. At the same time, however, when we rise to the occasion of great challenges, we achieve great heights.

Usually an airport is just an airport.  And usually, travelers are just, well, travelers. This week, however, at a terminal of a chartered flight out of New York, hundreds of people were singing, crying, laughing and hugging. They carried large placards that contained three simple words: “Living the Dream!”  Two hundred and one people were making aliyah (immigration to Israel).  One of them is the beloved son of dear friends. This young man had recently graduated from Wharton, and he could have fast-tracked it into the family’s real estate conglomerate, or any other high-flying business endeavor of his choice. It was to be the fulfillment of the family dream. Instead, this young man decided to study in a yeshiva for a few months followed by enlisting in the Israeli Defense Forces. In a nutshell, he’s dreaming a different dream.

In a few days we are going into the period known as “The Nine Days,” which is a period of mourning in observance of the destruction of both of our Holy Temples.

Every day we pray that the Temple be speedily rebuilt, and my challenge is to utter those words of prayer with authenticity, to genuinely want a dream I never experienced.

A few days ago, Rav Kanievsky, one of the great leading rabbis of Israel, made a striking claim, that the Messiah was walking the streets of Jerusalem and that the Era of Redemption was but a few months away, adding that now would be a very good time to come to Israel – before it’s too late. Since hearing this proclamation, however, none of my friends are packing their bags, and a local rabbi poo-pooed it as another false prediction among innumerable others that have been made over the centuries. But – don’t we want it to be true? Shouldn’t we at least be open to the possibility that it could be true, and that the visions of the prophets that we consider to be holy – could actually come to pass?

Or are we more comfortable with the idea of the coming of the Messiah as a far away dream for a distant time? To be fair, the visions are terrifying. The world is in chaos and conflagration. And then what? The opinions vary widely. How can I be “living the dream” if I am not sure what the dream really is? And what if this world, this life, is but a dream – from which I am supposed to awaken?

Such existential thoughts buzz about my brain from time to time and I usually swat them away. For one, I try not to get overwhelmed with negativity or paralyzed by anxiety. I try to live in the world of “what is” and not “what if.” I deep-breathe my way through the nightly news and I just try to do my best. Usually that works, and so it must be the confluence of these three things, as well as this week’s Torah portion, Matot, that makes me question of what stuff my dreams are made.

The name of this week’s Torah portion, Matot, has a dual meaning. It means “tribes” and it also means “staffs,” as in a wooden staff. Wooden staffs are unbending, unyielding, straight and strong. This week’s Torah portion follows last week’s victory in the face of the Midianite king’s thwarted efforts to destroy the Jews in the desert and prevent them from entering the Land of Israel. While being able to enter the Land of Israel was indeed the fulfillment of a dream, it wasn’t like entering Disney World. Quite the opposite, rather, as the Jews were headed into cycles of war for years to come. At this critical time, therefore, God referred to the Jewish people as Matot, thus imbuing them with the attributes of being straight, strong and unyielding, attributes they would sorely need in light of the turmoil and challenges ahead.

Significantly, it is this second generation which God calls Matot. Ordinarily and particularly with respect to the first generation that came out of Egypt, God refers to us as Shevatim, which means “tribes,” but it also has the dual meaning of “reeds.” Unlike wooden staffs, reeds are thin and flexible. They are rooted, yet able to withstand external elements by being supple. In general, therefore, you could surmise that embodying the qualities of the reed is our preferred state.

By referring to the Jewish tribes as Matot, however, we should also understand that sometimes, as in times of war, upheaval and chaos, we have to stiffen our resolve and embody a very different nature. There are times when being a reed does not serve us. There are times when being a reed actually hurts us. And in such times, we must become like Matot. We must become a solid staff.

Is it a coincidence that this week saw the conclusion of the deal with Iran? While President Obama touts that he has just made the world a “safer” place, I’m afraid.

I can’t fall in line. In my worldview, Israel was thrown under the bus at the same time that the world was pushed off the precipice of no return. A double epic fail. But that’s just me – feel free to disagree.

Perhaps this is the inexorable cog that ratchets us along the trajectory to that promised future after all, to the Era of Redemption. In dealing with Iran, I had hoped that world leaders would be strong and straight. Instead, they bent over backwards. And so perhaps God is telling us that it is up to each of us now to tap into the qualities of the staff. Talk about personal power!

Talk About Personal Power!

In his book The Greatest Generation, Tom Brokaw describes the generation that confronted the Second World War. Born and raised in a tumultuous era marked by war and economic depression, these men and women developed values of “personal responsibility, duty, honor and faith, which helped them to defeat Hitler, build the American economy, and make advances in science and implement visionary programs”. According to Brokaw, “At every stage of their lives they were part of historic challenges and achievements of a magnitude the world had never before witnessed.”

Last week, I posited the question whether it was the evil plot to destroy the Jews that provided that context for Pinchas to rise to the occasion and become the hero. Ironically, without the stress and conflict of the “occasion,” there is nothing to “rise to.” Evil is so often the birthplace of greatness. Without the wicked Haman, for example, Queen Esther would have just been the pick of the harem. Adversity and growth. It’s an eternal package. And when seen in that light, everything serves, Iran included.

The 201 men, women and children who made aliyah to Israel this week have embodied the strength of Matot. The question is, will we join them? Rav Kanievsky tells us that the footsteps of the Messiah are on terra firma. Will we hear him? The purpose of the yearly period of mourning for the destruction of the Holy Temples is not just to commemorate a historical fact of the past, but to examine and reflect on our present. The Temples were destroyed for reasons all under our control. So, can we rise to the occasion? Can we fix this? We were brought down by baseless hatred. Can we rise through baseless love? Are we even dreaming that dream?

I am writing this blog from my balcony overlooking the intercoastal waterway in Florida. I recently bought a home here, where I am dreaming a dream of creating something very innovative and unique. I’m working the deal. This is not a good time to be told I gotta go. I am not sure I am ready for the Era of Redemption, if it means uprooting my life. I like the range in which my choices fall. They do not involve life and death decisions, tests of heroic courage versus the failure of complacence. I like being a reed. But Iran could really mess things up. Just for the record, however, the Purim story of Haman and the attempted genocide of the Jewish people took place in Persia –  which is modern day Iran.

Not to be an alarmist, but we could be on the brink, once again, of facing great challenges. At the same time, however, when we rise to the occasion of great challenges, we achieve great heights. No disrespect to the generation of the Second World War, but the generation that faces down the evil that then ushers in the era of everlasting peace will truly earn the moniker of being “The Greatest Generation.” Ironically, the president may well be the catalyst for bringing about a safer world – just not in the way he thought it would be.

I can only hope and pray that if I am confronted with a situation that calls for my rise to greatness, that I will grab my staff and go, and that I will step firmly into the future of the greatest dream of all. Maybe John Lennon really did get it right:

You may say I’m a dreamer,

but I’m not the only one,

I hope some day you’ll join us,

And the world will be as one.