Op-Ed: The Season of Freedom

Each holiday season ushers in its own particular sentiment or experience of the joyousness of that specific juncture in time. Having just concluded the holiday of Sukkos, we recall numerous recitations of “the season of our joy” spanning eight celebratory days, including Shemini Atzeres (plus another day of Simchas Torah outside of Israel). So it would seem more appropriate to address the joy that we experienced over the holiday and reserve the topic of freedom for a later date, perhaps nearer to Pesach, which deals with the Exodus of the Jews from Egyptian bondage.

However, a certain dichotomy of sorts has been played out over the last couple of weeks which has us scratching our heads in wonderment trying to figure out the connection between the current events and the spirit of joy which usually is rampant in this period of time.

On Thursday, October 27, U.S.–Israeli citizen Ilan Grapel, who had been held since June, was set free from Egyptian prison as part of a prisoner swap deal. This deal follows on the heels of the much larger deal that brought captured Israeli Sergeant Gilad Shalit home after five years in Hamas captivity. So it is this dichotomy, the freedom of these men specifically during the season of our joy, that I deem worthy of being addressed.

The pinnacle of the joy experienced throughout the Sukkos holiday is rooted in the Simchas Beis HaShoeivah, which was a yearly practice during the festival of Sukkos when men, women, and children would watch the Torah leaders of their time break out in ecstatic song and dance following the pouring of water atop the Altar. Our sages expound that the pouring of the water is symbolic of the Divine spirit which was drawn during that observance.

Today, in perpetuation of that practice, communities the world over celebrate in their own festive ways with singing, dancing, and humor, but sadly it is a far cry from what was. So while we in fact continue to say “the season of our joy” in the holiday prayers, it is a rather contracted form of the joy that once was and that we hope and pray will accompany us during this time next year.

But I think the freedom of these captives particularly in this time is symbolic of something much greater, perhaps a whisper from heaven that the time of our collective freedom is near. You see, the exile which we have to deal with daily is the cause of the contracted sentiment of joy that we annually attempt to exaggerate, making it seem like we are truly happy despite the totality of our daily goings-on that we carry with us beneath the surface. Perhaps for this reason our sages said, “There is no joy as the freedom from doubt and uncertainty,” or, in the original Hebrew, “Ein simcha k’hatoras hasefeikos.”

There is nothing more uncertain and unsettling than being captive—not knowing what each second, not to mention what each day, will deliver. Much has been said about a mother’s inability to live at peace, not knowing the well-being of her son who for years was in the hands of merciless terrorists. In fact, one of the merits that won rabbinic approval for this deal was the combination of the value of one Jewish life and the sympathy for a loving Jewish mother who longed for days, months, and years to feel the embrace of her son.

Despite the hefty price that Israel was required to pay to secure Shalit’s release, the joy that we as loving and caring husbands, wives, brothers, sisters, parents, and children felt for the reunification of a family sort of made the price disappear at that moment in time. All we cared about was that an innocent Jew was out of the evil snare of these bloodthirsty terrorists. That fact alone made us all breathe easier that day and go to sleep with much more ease that night.

But while we have had Gilad in our thoughts and prayers over these past five years, hoping that he had the physical strength and emotional courage to defy the intentions of his captors throughout this long period of captivity, we in a sense have forgotten that we too are being held captive and are in dire need of being freed.

Many, I’m sure, during the beginning of Sukkos, were waving their lulavim and esrogim to and fro and enjoying festive meals together with family and friends with Gilad in mind and the image of his family with a notable absence at their family table. But the truth is that despite the outer appearance of joy and the obligation to feel that way during the holiday, as captives in exile we too fall short of the joy that is expected of us. We too live day to day with the uncertainty that a captive lives with, not knowing how the day will come to a close and if the night will give way to another day.

Following Shalit’s historic freedom, Jonathan Pollard, in a phone conversation with his wife, Esther, from his cell in Butner, North Carolina, said that he had a renewed sense of hope, hearing that Gilad Shalit has been set free. He said when he was notified that Vice President Joe Biden agreed to meet with leading Jewish activists about his fate and possible commutation, he could sense that the end of his captivity was near.

Man is a microcosm. Everything which G d created in the world exists in man. The Baal Shem Tov taught that the happenings of each day and the simple exchange of pleasantries between man and his fellow carries weight in the greater scheme of things. So when the season of our joy and the freedom of captives coincides as it has, and when Jonathan Pollard after 25 years in solitude for a crime that he has long paid the price for feels a renewed sense of hope, that hope should eventually affect each of us personally and collectively.

So joy and freedom are very much interrelated. It’s about time we come to realize that no joy is genuine within the context and uncertainty of exile. But again let us listen closely and accept the message we are being given by heaven with these recent incidents during this period of time and hope that our day is soon to follow.