25 Jun THEY BAGELED, I BLEW IT

I was speaking with a
nurse in a doctor’s
office last Friday when
mid- conversation,
responding to
something I said, she
used the word
“bashert.” The word made no sense in
context and it was clear as she said it that
her excitement to use the word in
conversation with me far surpassed her
understanding of what it meant.
My appointment concluded and I took
the elevator down to exit the building.
As it reached the ground floor, I turned to
the other man in the elevator and wished
him a good day. He responded, “you
too,” and quickly added, “You are
probably running to be home before
sundown.” I checked the time, and it
was 11:00 in the morning. I smiled and
said, “Yup, need to head out,” wished
him a great weekend, and went to my
car.
As I drove back to Shul, I was reflecting
on what happened and became riddled
with guilt and shame. Two Jews had just
“bageled” me, they used lingo or

references to signal to me they are
members of the tribe and what did I do?
Nothing. I wasn’t rude, but I also didn’t
jump on the opportunity, I didn’t follow
through, create a connection, or plug
them in.
The Gemara (Nidda 30b) teaches that
throughout our gestation in the womb,
we are studying Torah with a designated
angel. When we are born, we are tapped
on the lip and caused to forget what we
learned. The Beis HaLevi explains that
Torah can’t be spoon-fed to us, it can’t
be casually downloaded into our brain or
come easy. We have to work hard, toil,
and earn our Torah knowledge. And so
we are caused to forget and start from
scratch when we are born.
But why be taught Torah in the womb
to begin with if we are only going to be
caused to forget? Rav Soloveitchik
explains that while we forget the
specifics of what we learned, the Torah
that every Jew studied leaves an imprint
and impression on the Jewish soul. It
plants a pintele yid, a Torah spark, a
Jewish identity inside us. When we are
later exposed to Torah, it feels familiar, it

seems like something we have
studied before.
Without being overly dramatic,
as I reflected on the interactions,
I realized that two yiddishe
neshamos, their holy Jewish
souls, were screaming out,
seeking a connection, and
because of my reaction (or lack
thereof), they came up empty.
These interactions were not
isolated, they have been
happening more and I don’t
believe it is a coincidence. The events of
October 7, and Israel’s ongoing war
since, has awakened many Jews. The
hearts of even the most secular Jews
were broken. The pain all Jews share
and the concern for the hostages and
soldiers we have in common have made
us feel connected not only with our
Jewish and brothers in Israel and around
us, but with the Jewish soul inside us. As
antisemitism has exploded and Jew
hatred has proliferated, some are asking
themselves, what does it mean to be a
Jew.
In concerning ways, the Jewish people
are in crisis, but every crisis also creates
an opportunity. We have a window
now, but we don’t know how long it
will stay open. We can and we should
engage our fellow Jews, our brothers
and sisters who are equally targeted
with hate, to lean into their Judaism,
learn more, explore more, practice
more, live with more Jewish pride.
Our enemies have created a Jewish
awakening, and we must leverage it
and take advantage of it.
The time is ripe for a campaign and
coordinated effort to challenge our
fellow Jews: If they hate us for being
Jewish, find out more about what it
means to be Jewish, why it matters, and
what Jewish values and a Jewish life
looks like.
The pintele yid, the beautiful, holy
Jewish souls around us are waking up,
feeling physically threatened but also
spiritually dehydrated and
malnourished. Our Jewish brothers
and sisters are thirsty and hungry. They
are increasingly “bageling” us. Their
neshamas are screaming out to us. The
question is are we ready, what will we
respond, will we take advantage of the
opportunity, and rise to the moment?
What could I have done when the
nurse and man in the elevator were so

interested in conveying to me that they
are Jewish? I could have spoken to them
about their Jewish identity and
background and learned more about their
upbringing and education. I could have
engaged them on Israel and antisemitism.
I should have connected them with our
BRS Outreach Rabbi. I regret not
inviting them to our Friday Night Live,
to our Partners in Jewish Life, or to my
home for a Shabbos meal.
If we don’t have a plan, if we don’t
know what we would do or who we
would connect someone with, when we
are pitched by a fellow Jew we are going
to strike out. Be thoughtful and plan. If
you don’t have the vocabulary to engage
a fellow Jew who is not affiliated or
practicing, learn it. The number one
reason our fellow Jews haven’t
experienced a Shabbos meal is because
they were never asked. Don’t wait to be
bageled. Think of a co-worker, neighbor,
family member and invite them. Gain
greater understanding of what we do at
our Shabbos tables so you can confidently
host and answer the natural questions
that will arise about why we say kiddush,
wash before bread, and why we aren’t on
our phones.
How can we say Avinu Malkeinu,
address Hashem as our Father, and not
feel his pain that the overwhelming
majority of His children are estranged
from Him. We must feel the pain of the
Shechina, we must feel our pain that our
people are not whole, and we should feel
the pain of our fellow Jews who don’t
even know they are in pain.
As threatening and dangerous as
antisemitism has become, it pales in
comparison to the negative and
destructive impact of assimilation and
intermarriage. Israel, antisemitism, and
the Jewish people are in the headlines
daily. We have an opportunity to do
something about it. Next time you are
“bageled,” what will you do?