Yesterday was Election Day in Israel, and the stakes could hardly have felt higher. After three years marked by war, national trauma, and extraordinary political uncertainty, Israelis turned out in remarkable numbers to help determine the future of their country. Nearly 5.7 million people cast their ballots, with voter turnout reaching its highest level since 1999. Schools were closed, families were home, and across the country, millions of Israelis were making their voices heard.
But for my children, the highlight of the day had nothing to do with politics. It was the afternoon thunderstorm.
By about 3pm, the skies had darkened, rain was pouring down, and the sound of thunder filled the air. For my children, it was tremendously exciting, especially since we’re only just beginning Israel’s rainy season. In Jewish tradition, thunderstorms are more than an exciting display of nature. They are an opportunity to acknowledge God’s extraordinary power. In fact, we have a special blessing that we recite upon hearing thunder:
Baruch Atah Adonai Eloheinu Melech ha’olam, shekocho ugevurato malei olam.
Blessed are You, Lord our God, King of the universe, whose power and might fill the world.
There is something remarkable about the fact that we interrupt whatever we are doing to acknowledge God’s might in something as ordinary as a thunderstorm. The blessing reminds us that even in a world where human beings have achieved extraordinary things, there are forces far beyond our control. And on a day when an entire nation was focused on the question of who would lead it, that reminder felt especially meaningful.
But the thunderstorm wasn’t the only reminder of God’s authority on Election Day.
In the days surrounding Israel’s election, political leaders made their way to the Western Wall in Jerusalem to pray. Among them was Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu, who visited the Kotel on the eve of the election and placed a handwritten note between its ancient stones. His note read:
לחיילי צה״ל, גיבורינו, לנצחון על אויבינו, להצלחת עמנו, נצח ישראל לא ישקר!
For the soldiers of the IDF, our heroes; for victory over our enemies; for the success of our people. The Eternal One of Israel does not lie!
It was the final four Hebrew words that caught my attention: נצח ישראל לא ישקר. The words come from I Samuel 15:29, and their original context is particularly striking when we consider that they were written by a prime minister facing an election.
In I Samuel 15, we encounter King Saul, Israel’s first king, at a defining moment in his reign. God had commanded Saul, through the prophet Samuel, to wage war against Amalek. Saul had defeated the Amalekites, but he had failed to carry out God’s instructions completely. He spared Agag, their king, and allowed the people to retain some of the livestock.
When Samuel confronted Saul, the king initially defended his actions. He insisted that he had obeyed God’s command and explained that the animals had been kept to offer as sacrifices to God. But Samuel was not persuaded. Saul had been entrusted with the responsibility of leading Israel according to God’s instructions. Instead, he had acted according to his own judgment, placing his decisions above the command he had received. Samuel informed Saul that God had rejected him as king.
As Samuel turned to leave, Saul grabbed the edge of his robe, tearing it. Samuel used the torn garment to illustrate what had happened to Saul’s kingship: God had torn the kingdom away from him. And then Samuel declared:
These are the words Netanyahu chose to invoke at the Western Wall. There is certainly an irony in a sitting prime minister quoting a verse spoken to a king who had just been told that his reign would end. But the significance of the verse extends far beyond Saul’s (or Bibi’s) personal fate.
Saul was Israel’s first king. He had been chosen to lead God’s people, entrusted with military command, and given enormous responsibility for the nation’s future. Yet even the king of Israel was not the ultimate authority over Israel. God was.
The 12th–13th-century biblical commentator Rabbi David Kimchi, known as Radak, explains that although Saul’s kingdom would not endure, God’s promise to Israel would remain.The future of the Jewish people was never dependent on the success or failure of any single king. And perhaps that is the most important part of this story.
We cannot know precisely what Netanyahu intended when he selected this verse. Perhaps it was a prayer for the success of Israel and its soldiers. Perhaps he was thinking about the country’s enemies, its future, or the enormous responsibilities of leadership. But whatever he intended, the words carry a message that transcends any particular politician or election.
We live in a world in which political courses of action matter enormously. Who leads a country, what choices they make, and how they exercise their authority can have consequences that extend across generations. We have a responsibility to participate in those decisions, to vote thoughtfully, and to do everything we can to shape the future of our nation. And yet, after we cast our ballots, there is something we must remember: we are not ultimately in control.
Yesterday, as Israelis considered who should lead their country during this pivotal time in our story, the thunder rolled across the sky. And with it came the opportunity to recite a blessing acknowledging the true King of the universe. Shekocho ugevurato malei olam. His power and might fill the world.
It is the same truth that Samuel reminded Saul of thousands of years ago. Human leaders are entrusted with power, but they are never its ultimate source. Kingdoms rise and fall. Governments change. Even the most powerful leaders must recognize that their authority has limits. And through it all, God remains.
