Last November, my Christian friend Reverend Luke Moon joined me in Efrat for Shabbat. On Friday evening we sat together in the synagogue for the afternoon prayer. When we finished, Luke pointed to a blessing in the siddur, the Jewish prayer book: “Sound the great shofar for our freedom and raise a banner to gather our exiles and unite us together from the four corners of the earth. Blessed are You, Hashem, Who regathers the scattered of His people Israel.” He said – “I’ve got to show this to my Jewish friends in New York. You guys pray for the ingathering of the exiles every day! You now have a State of Israel, and all Jews can move there and fulfill the words of this prayer. What are you still doing in New York?”
In just ten minutes of synagogue attendance, Luke had zeroed in on one of the Jewish people’s most glaring contradictions. For two millennia, Jews have prayed daily to return to Israel. Now that this ancient prayer can be fulfilled with a simple plane ticket, millions of Jews still choose to remain in exile. The disconnect between our prayers and our actions demands explanation.
This paradox is not new.
In the 12th century, Rabbi Judah HaLevi penned The Kuzari, a masterwork that takes the form of a dialogue between a Jewish rabbi and the king of the Khazar kingdom. Through their exchanges, the king challenges the rabbi with penetrating questions about Jewish faith and practice.
The Khazar king’s rebuke of the Jewish people’s relationship to the Land of Israel still stings today (The Kuzari 2:23): “You are shirking the duty imposed by your Torah. You have not made the Land of Israel your goal, nor your place of living and dying. Your knee bending and bowing toward Israel is mere flattery, an empty custom.”
The rabbi’s response is shocking in its candor (The Kuzari 2:24): “You have shamed me, King of Khazaria. When we recite ‘Bow down to His footstool,’ and ‘Blessed are You Who returns His Shechina (Divine Presence) to Zion,’ we are like birds chirping meaningless sounds. We do not even think about the words as we say them.”
This tension between prayer and action reaches back to the very birth of the Jewish nation. The Israelites stood at the shore of the Reed Sea, trapped between the advancing Egyptian army and the impassable waters. In this moment of supreme crisis, Moses turned to prayer:
God’s response was unexpected – instead of accepting Moses’s prayers, He demanded action.
What had Moses done wrong? The Sages explain (Mechilta D’Rabbi Yishmael Beshalach 4:26) that the Lord turned to Moses and demanded: “My children are in troubleāthe sea rages before them, the enemy pursues behind themāand you stand here praying?”
“But what can I do?” Moses replied.
“Raise your staff and stretch out your hand over the sea!” God commanded.
In this moment of crisis, God taught Moses when to pray and when to act. Even Moses, who spoke to God face to face, had to learn when to stop praying and start acting.
This balance of prayer and action runs through Jewish thought. Consider King David’s words:
Notice the verse’s two verbs: “asking” (she’eilah) and “seeking” (bakasha). Rabbi Yissachar Shlomo Teichtal teaches that asking is prayerāthe heart’s plea before God. But seeking is actionāthe physical pursuit of what we desire. David knew that his yearning for closeness to God required both prayer and concrete steps (Eim Habanim Semeicha, Chapter 2)
We see this approach throughout Scripture. The beloved in Song of Songs declares:
She doesn’t just pray for reunionāshe searches every corner of the city. When the Psalmist commands “Shun evil and do good, seek amity and pursue it” (34:15), he’s clear: peace takes more than prayerāit takes action.
The prayers crafted during our long exile stand as monuments to Jewish faithāfrom the desperate pleas whispered in Inquisition dungeons to the final Shema uttered in Nazi death camps. These prayers, written in history’s darkest moments, defy description.
In 1896, Theodor Herzl launched the modern Zionist movement, and Jewish history changed forever. For the first time in two millennia, the Jewish people held the power to shape their own destiny. The era of passive prayer had ended; the time for decisive action had arrived. Yet tragically, millions of Jews remain frozen in the mindset of exile, responding to every crisis as our ancestors didāwith prayer alone. Like Moses at the sea, they haven’t learned that prayer without action isn’t enough.
If one million American Jews rose up today and moved to Israel, they would transform Jewish destiny. Picture it: hundreds of new communities across Judea and Samaria, a million more Jews building lives in our biblical heartland. No political leader would dare suggest surrendering these lands. No enemy would question our right to this territory. This power lies in our handsāwe only need to use it.
That Shabbat afternoon in my synagogue, Reverend Moon exposed the central challenge of our generation. God has answered two millennia of prayers. The great shofar of ingathering has sounded. Now comes the real test: Will the Jewish people finally shake off the psychology of exile and answer history’s call? Will we learn what Moses learned at the seaāthat there comes a moment when prayer must yield to action? Our ancestors could only pray for return. We can make it happen.
Now is the time to take action for Israel! If you are an American Jew, vote for Israel365 Action (Slate #7) in the World Zionist Congress Elections (March 10-May 4, 2025). Israel365 Action (Slate #7)Ā stands firmly for the principles of opposing a Palestinian state in Judea & Samaria while affirming the Jewish peopleās divine right to their ancestral homeland. Non-Jewish supporters can take action as well. Please encourage your Jewish friends to vote andĀ join Ten from the NationsĀ today.