Rabbi Yossi Rodal is the director of Hunter Chabad, a Jewish outreach organisation that serves people living in Newcastle, and Hunter Region in NSW. He recently returned from an 8 day mission to Israel. On Monday, he spoke with us and shared some of his experiences. Below is an article he penned on the flight back home, reflecting on his time in the Holy Land.
You may be familiar with the story of a king who promised 1 million dollars to the man that would be brave enough to swim across the crocodile infested river.
Only one person goes in and furiously swims and kicks, narrowly making it to the other side.
After congratulating the brave man, the king asked if he had something to say, hopeful that his ensuing words would inspire others to face their fears, be courageous, etc.
"I have only one thing to say," proclaims the man. "Who pushed me in?"
During this past week, I had the privilege of being part of a group of Rabbis and Rebbetzins from NSW, visiting the length and breadth of Israel, receiving and giving strength and inspiration in the aftermath of Simchas Torah/Oct 7.
Sponsored by world Mizrachi, we were able to meet people and go to places that aren't accessible to tourists.
I can honestly say that this has been one of the most impactful weeks of my life.
Besides for spending each day with fellow rabbis and rebbetzins, the people we met and the experiences we witnessed have left an indelible impression on me.
You see, I reckon I've met some very impressive people throughout the course of my life. Movers and shakers, rich ppl, poor ppl, scholars, askanim, you name it.
But here in Israel, it's a different type of person that left a much deeper mark on me.
It's Yuval, a teacher in university who together with his electrician brother Eli, defended his yishuv from 12 armed terrorists, one with a rock in hand and the other with the only gun in the region.
It's Bentzi, a soft spoken Rabbi who was called to identify hundreds of body parts mangled in the most unimaginable ways.
It's Ari, an ex sales rep who somehow fundraised for and provided thousands of life saving vests, helmets, boats, and civilian training for the southern communities.
It's Ruby, a bereaved father who's unbearable pain is palpable as he pleads for his son Itay's body to be returned from captivity in Gaza.
It's Yotam, an accountant who organised the entire evacuation of Kiryat Shemona's 24,000 residents and looked after their physical and mental health needs for 18 months.
It's Michael, who's son Yair was killed in Gaza a few months ago and all he can think about is if we've eaten enough and how others can do more mitzvot in memory of Yair.
It's Simcha in Chevron, with his mind boggling bravery, living in accute danger for 30 years to ensure the Jewish presence in the world's second holiest city remains.
And of course it's the average soldier, sweltering in the heat with all their gear as they bravely put their lives on the line to protect Am Yisrael.
And there are more heroes. Thousands and thousands and thousands more. They may be dressed in lab coats and suits, or perhaps overalls and nursing gowns, but don't let their disguise fool you for a second. These are giants among men and women.
Ask them how and why they are sacrificing it all and they'll all tell you virtually the same thing. "Who pushed me in?" Im lo ani, az mi? (Coined by daniel Peretz a'h) If not me, then who?"
Some will continue. "How can I not realise that I am a part of a bigger picture? How can I not protect my kibbutz and my people? It's who we are as a people and I need to play my role in our collective destiny. There is something greater than my own needs and wants."
And as I sit on the plane on my long way back to Newcastle Australia, I consider my own situation. I can't recall ever having to run to a shelter in middle of the night, nor do I need to look around at the buildings around me knowing that are people there that want me dead. I don't have anyone in my family killed in the line of duty, nor has my life revolved around an injury suffered by a child on the battlefield, Thank Gd.
And yes, I have my own mission which comes with its own challenges, which I reckon are quite unique.
I know that there are many people who look at what my wife Malki and I sacrifice, home-schooling and being the only frum friends of our children, making do without kosher food, rarely having a minyan, and other various challenges and they marvel.
But wow, these people have left me feeling woefully inadequate in so many ways. These are real life heroes, giants who walk the Holy Land of Israel.
"And yet", I continue to ponder silently. (There may be a few tears happening at this point) "I can take lessons from these giants and apply them to my daily life. I can be a giant in my own way.
The next time we are struggling to cover the budget, I'll remember you Yotam and make sure the work gets done, come what may. After all, the mission is bigger than our problems. The funds will come with a bit of faith.
The next time I feel like I have too much on and I have no time to learn Torah, I'll remember you, Yair, who found time to keep up your impressive study regime even in the army. Surely I can manage to make time for important things too.
The next time I have 6 backpackers around the shabbat table and feel like perhaps they are just there for a free meal, I'll remember them being on the front lines for us and serve them with the biggest and sincerest smile one can ever come up with.
The next time community members are apathetic and seem not to care, I'll remember you Ruby and how the entire nation came to support you when it really mattered, when the false pretences of disunity were torn away, revealing the one beating heart that we all share equally.
And the next time I'm feeling like I can't do it anymore and just want to move back to a robust Jewish community, I'll remember you Bentzi, who didn't want to identify a severed finger but did what had to be done.
And the next time I struggle to support a person challenged with physical or mental health issues, I'll remember you Jeremy and the other injured soldiers we visited, and the beautiful lives they lead notwithstanding the chronic PTSD and injuries that they struggle mightily with.
And the next time I ask someone to come to shul or class and they seem not to care, I'll remember you the precious kedoshim of Nova, who were slaughtered because they were Jewish, and weren't asked if they had attended shul that day.
And finally, when I think that perhaps sometimes I am forcing myself to do this mission and struggle to find meaning and enjoy it through the good and also the bad, I'll remember you, the people of Alon Shvut, and I'll sing and dance my way through the challenges, persevering until I can find the joy and beauty that is there for the taking.
I'd like to one day stand proud and tall among the Yotams, Michael's, Yuvals and Sharis of the world and tell them, "Your sacrifices are not in vain. You and your heroic lessons are alive and well here in far off Newcastle."
I too can try to be a giant among my people. And so can you.