On this Yom Ha’Atzmaut - the 77th anniversary of the modern miracle of the establishment of the State of Israel, more than ever, it is time to pause and reflect not just with awe, but with gratitude. In a 19 month period that has tested the soul of our people, we must choose to lift our eyes beyond grief and toward light. After all, we are celebrating 77 years of sovereignty, of Jewish life reborn in our ancestral homeland. Despite war, loss, heartbreak, and fear, here we are, standing in the pride of a day that is, as much as anything, a celebration of endurance, of promise, and of hope.

Every year I am reminded that there is something extraordinary about Yom Ha’Atzmaut arriving the day after Yom HaZikaron. The sirens of mourning still sounds in our mind, the names of soldiers and victims still resonate in our hearts, and yet, if you have been in Israel as the sun sets on Yom HaZikaron, the transition feels profoundly Jewish. We move from mourning into joy, from pain into hope, not because we forget, but because we insist on living. It is who we are as a people, it is what we've always done - choose life! Despite our history that is peppered with too many tragedies, we rise to celebrate the resilience of our people and who we are. As the psalmist writes, “Those who sow in tears will reap in songs of joy” (Psalm 126:5). This is not just poetry, it is promise fulfilled, year after year.

Last week, we stood in silence on Yom HaShoah, remembering six million precious souls murdered in the Holocaust. That day of remembrance, like Yom HaZikaron and Yom Ha’Atzmaut, was also created by the State of Israel as a clarion call to remember on behalf of Jews everywhere. Imagine a country declaring a national day of mourning for atrocities that occurred far beyond its borders. Only Israel would do that. Only Israel could. Because Israel, from its rebirth in 1948, understood itself as not just a nation, but a home for every Jew, in every place, in every generation. So all of these commemorations and celebrations are for all Jews living in the State or in the diaspora. 

We must also constantly remind ourselves, lest we forget, that because of Israel, for the first time in over two thousand years, there are no Jewish refugees displaced in this world. That statement alone is a prayer answered in and of itself. Our people, who once wandered from place to place, who were turned away and locked out when we needed a safe haven the most, now have a home. We, as a sovereign people, have a physical, political, cultural, and spiritual homeland where Hebrew is heard in the streets, where Jewish time governs the calendar, and where this sovereignty gives us strength to protect our people and live according to the rhythms of Jewish life.

These past 19 months can make it painfully easy to forget the miracle of the rebirth of Israel. The trauma of October 7 is still very fresh, hostages are still being held, and the war in Gaza drags on. The loss is unthinkable. And the global response has often been more isolating than supportive. But then we look at how our brothers and sisters in Israel have responded. They have responded in love, in unity and in fierce resolve. We saw soldiers who dropped everything to defend the land. We saw civilians opening their homes to displaced families. We heard prayers and songs of hope recited and sung in public squares, challah baked for strangers and flags hung high as symbols of belonging. Rabbi Jonathan Sacks z”l once said, “Israel is the home of hope.” And while so many in Israel suffer from real trauma, and are emotionally and physically exhausted, the inner light of the collective soul of the people still radiates hope. 

In the face of everything we have endured, we still light candles, we still sing, we still plant trees. And we still build. Even as the Iron Dome lit up the sky this past year, babies were born in Israeli hospitals. Torah was still learned. Music plays in cafes. Israel is a country that keeps living, keeps moving forward. This is more than an act of defiance, it is choosing life as an act of faith. 

77 years is long enough to prove permanence, yet still young enough to remain a living miracle. We were a people exiled and scattered, praying toward Jerusalem for generations. And now we are back spiritually, politically, agriculturally, militarily. We are back in the most ordinary and extraordinary ways. 

We all can find and express legitimate criticisms of Israel. And we should. Our love for Israel requires us to be critical as well. And we must always remember the foundation of our relationship with Israel must be love. It should be familial love, for in the end, we are mishpachah. This is our Jewish family story. The nation may be imperfect, what nation isn’t, but Eretz Yisrael, the dream and the people are ours, always. That is the kind of love that doesn’t walk away, especially when it’s hard.

Today, we put our worries, differences, and grief aside to allow ourselves to celebrate and to feel deep pride. We let ourselves feel wonder and awe in this ongoing miracle. And we celebrate, as Jews do, aware of all of the complexity in this moment. Because in all our sorrow, and uncertainty we also hold the resounding truth that we have a sovereign State. We have a home. And we are not leaving.

May this year bring return, release, rebuilding and always light and hope.