Ignore the noise, hear that ‘still, small voice’
Nothing concentrates the mind like sitting in a shelter as missiles are intercepted above your head.
From the first pre-alert warning blaring from multiple cellphones in the middle of the night, to the rush to the shelter at the noxious but necessary siren — being careful not to trip, escorting my dazed wife who had taken an Ambien — and finally sitting half-awake with your equally weary neighbors in pajamas, you have time to think.
You start with your own mortality but quickly push that aside. Then come your children and grandchildren — and then all of Klal Yisrael — but that becomes overwhelming. You circle back to yourself and your spouse, taking some morbid comfort that if you “go,” you go together.
Then come the practical thoughts. Who will tell the kids where everything is — where the assets are, where certain valuables are hidden? Like many parents, we never had that conversation. You make a mental note — but it’s 2 in the morning.
And then your mind widens again.
You realize you are not alone. Thousands are sitting in shelters at that very moment, thinking similar thoughts. You give thanks to the armed forces protecting you, to those who had the foresight to build shelters everywhere, and to Hashem for providing the framework that makes it all work.
And then the question comes: Nu, HaKadosh Baruch Hu, how is this all going to turn out?
• • •
In my half-awake state, I hear a voice — sounding suspiciously like Larry David — answering: It’s going to turn out “pretty, pretty good.”
Because, in a sense, we already know. We have the script. It’s in the Tanach. Hashem gave it to us — our most precious possession that is filled with answers, many hidden, waiting to be uncovered.
Many of us are familiar with the idea of the war of Gog u’Magog. It’s been invoked often since Oct. 7. While no one fully understands it, our sources describe a great conflict at the end of days (acharit hayamim) when nations converge on Israel before the coming of Moshiach.
The prophets Yechezkel, Zechariah, Yoel and Daniel all speak of it. Yechezkel, in particular, devotes Chapters 38 and 39 to this war.
Explaining it fully would take volumes. But one point is clear: it is not hidden in obscure texts. It is stated openly in Navi.
And that is why people draw parallels today.
What we are experiencing does not feel like isolated conflicts. It feels connected — stretching back through Oct. 7, through the founding of the State of Israel, and even to the devastation of World War II.
After the loss of 6 million kedoshim, including 1.5 million children, a Jewish state rose from the ashes. That alone is extraordinary.
We read a parallel vision in Yechezkel 37 — the Valley of Dry Bones. The people declare, “Our bones have dried and our hope is lost.” And yet, Hashem restores them.
Centuries later, after the Shoah, we declared: od lo avda tikvatenu, our hope is not lost.
That, too, is a kind of resurrection.
History, in this view, is not random. It unfolds with purpose.
The Gemara in Sanhedrin describes the bones in Yechezkel’s vision as belonging to members of Shevet Ephraim, who left Egypt too early and were struck down. Yet they, too, would be restored.
Immediately following that vision, Yechezkel speaks of unity — the reunification of the tribes under one king. And then, in the very next chapter, comes the war of Gog u’Magog.
Seen as one continuous narrative, a pattern emerges: loss, return, unity — and then final confrontation.
• • •
Our tradition also speaks of Moshiach ben Yosef, a precursor to Moshiach ben David. Rav Kook suggested that this role might not be a single person, but the builders of modern Israel — even those who were not traditionally observant.
Those who built, fought and, in many cases, gave their lives. They brought us to this moment. And we are watching it unfold.
“Hear O Israel, Hashem is our G-d, Hashem is One.”
Even Eliyahu Hanavi once misunderstood where to find Hashem — expecting Him in dramatic displays. But he was taught otherwise: Do not look for Him in the wind, in an earthquake or in fire, but in the kol demama daka, the still, small voice.
You can hear that voice clearly in a shelter.
Chazal tell us that the future redemption will surpass even Yetziat Mitzrayim. Standing in that shelter, you begin to understand what that might mean.
Chag Sameach v’Kasher.
Write: Columnist@TheJewishStar.com
