This past Shabbat, as we celebrated the holiday of Tu B’Av, I was reminded of an essential truth that has sustained our people through millennia of challenges: the power of Jewish family to rebuild and renew, even in our darkest hours.
The tragedy of Oct. 7 inflicted a wound on the heart of every Jew worldwide. The Hamas attackers, following an ancient antisemitic playbook, didn’t just aim to take lives; they sought to shatter our spirit by terrorizing our communities, taking hostages and breaking our families. Like so many persecutors throughout history, they failed to understand a fundamental truth about the Jewish people: We emerge from tragedy stronger, more determined and more committed to our future.
The Jewish response to hatred has always been life. After the Holocaust decimated 6 million of our people, we committed to rebuilding.
I once heard a story about a Jewish man on an airplane with his 10 children. When sarcastically asked by a fellow passenger, “When will you have enough kids?” he replied simply, “When I hit 6 million.” This sentiment reflects our enduring commitment to continuity in the face of those who would destroy us.
The Jewish commitment to family isn’t limited to the ultra-Orthodox or religious; it is present among all Jews. Among secular Israelis, the birth rate remains among the highest in OECD countries. Family isn’t just a religious value; it’s embedded in Jewish DNA. Jewish heritage centers significantly on the laws of family life—on keeping families strong and united.
Shabbat is one of the most prominent. Long before “technology breaks” and “family game nights” became modern recommendations to reconnect families broken by social-media addiction, the Almighty gifted us 25 hours each week to be present with our families.
On this day, there is no driving, no phones, no distractions. Just time together, building community through worship, conversation and togetherness. Jewish essayist, thinker, and leading proponent of Cultural Zionism, Asher Tzvi Hirsh Ginzburg, otherwise known as Ahad Ha’am, famously said: “More than the Jews have kept Shabbat, Shabbat has kept the Jews.”
This Divine prescription for family solidarity has sustained us through centuries of persecution. Following Oct. 7, some wondered how to move forward, but many Jews already knew the answer: We needed to reconnect with one another and rebuild. We continued to celebrate bar mitzvahs and weddings even when our hearts were shattered.
I think of my friend, Rabbi Doron Perez, executive chairman of the World Mizrachi Movement, whose son Daniel, a tank commander, who it was presumed had been taken hostage in Gaza and devastatingly later was declared murdered, ended up marrying off another son, Yonatan, who had been wounded in battle, just 10 days after the attack.
Even as the family searched desperately for Daniel and Yonatan was recuperating, they decided to proceed with the wedding. This is the Jewish spirit, the understanding that life continues, that building families honors those we’ve lost.
I’m reminded of my own family’s experience. When my father passed away three years ago, he left behind three children who had given him 18 grandchildren. Although he didn’t live to see any of those grandchildren marry, we transformed his tallit into a chuppah. Now, four grandchildren have married beneath this canopy, carrying forward his legacy through this beautiful symbol of generational continuity.
Jewish tradition teaches that at every chuppah, the relatives who have passed on attend the ceremony. This spiritual understanding embodies our commitment to connecting generations, past, present and future.
After the Holocaust, amid the displacement camps, Jewish weddings flourished as survivors committed to rebuilding. I am reminded of Lili and Ludwig Friedman, dear friends and congregants of my father, who married in January 1946 in a synagogue near the Celle displaced persons camp.
Ludwig traded coffee and cigarettes for a white parachute so Lili could have the wedding dress she’d always dreamed of. That dress, now in the Holocaust Museum in Washington, was worn by at least 17 brides in the Displaced Persons camps, and is a symbol of hope amid devastation. Both Lili and Ludwig had lost family members in Auschwitz and other camps, yet their response to tragedy was to build a new life together.
This is the essence of Tu B’Av, not merely a celebration of romantic love, but a commitment to the sustaining power of Jewish family. When enemies attack us from the shadows, our response is to step into the light and to continue building families and communities with even greater determination.
While our brave IDF soldiers fight the physical battle, there is also a spiritual response required of us all: to build stronger, bigger Jewish families; to pass down our traditions; to celebrate life’s milestones even through tears; to ensure our children understand that the Jewish response to hatred has always been more life, more love, more family. This is our greatest strength and the most powerful testament to the unbreakable spirit of the Jewish people.
