August 8, 2024|ד' אב ה' אלפים תשפ"ד The Impact of a Potential Iranian Attack: A Prelude to the War of Gog and Magog? By Rabbi Jonathan Muskat

In recent days, the escalating tension and looming threat of conflict between Israel and Iran have generated a palpable sense of fear among Israelis and Jews worldwide. Reports suggest that Iran is planning a large-scale attack on Israel and is closer than ever to developing nuclear capabilities. This has understandably caused widespread anxiety about what the future holds. In some circles, there is even discussion that this could be the beginning of the ultimate battle—the war of Gog and Magog—a clash that will usher in the messianic era. Such thoughts can be both alluring and terrifying. While it is natural to seek meaning and hope in the face of impending danger, it is important to approach these notions with caution and a historical perspective.

The Dangers of Pinning Hope on Immediate Redemption

Throughout Jewish history, there have been moments when widespread anticipation of the Messiah led to profound disappointment and spiritual crisis. One of the most notable examples is the story of Shabbetai Zvi, a charismatic figure in the 17th century who many believed to be the long-awaited Messiah. His story serves as a cautionary tale about the dangers of placing too much hope in immediate redemption.

The Story of Shabbetai Zvi: A Cautionary Tale

Shabbetai Zvi was born in 1626 in Smyrna, Turkey, during a time of great turmoil for the Jewish people. The Jewish communities in Eastern Europe were reeling from the devastating Chmielnicki massacres of 1648-1649, which decimated countless Jewish communities and left deep scars on the collective psyche of European Jewry. Amidst this suffering, the idea of a messianic redeemer was incredibly appealing, and Shabbetai Zvi, with his knowledge of Kabbalah and his charismatic personality, seemed to many to be that redeemer.

Proclaiming himself as the Messiah, Shabbetai Zvi amassed a large following. His fame spread quickly, with Jewish communities across Europe and the Middle East celebrating what they believed to be the imminent redemption. Many sold their homes and abandoned their livelihoods, fully expecting to be led back to the Land of Israel in a messianic exodus.

But Shabbetai Zvi’s story did not end in triumph. In 1666, when he was brought before the Sultan of the Ottoman Empire, he was given the choice of converting to Islam or facing death. He chose to convert, shocking and devastating his followers. The aftermath of this event left the Jewish world in turmoil, with many losing their faith entirely.

The Lessons of 1666

The Shabbetai Zvi episode is a powerful reminder of the dangers of placing too much faith in the immediate arrival of the Messiah. It illustrates how desperation and a desire for salvation can lead even learned and devout individuals to embrace false hopes. The psychological and spiritual damage that followed Shabbetai Zvi’s apostasy was profound, leading to widespread disillusionment and, for some, a complete abandonment of Jewish belief.

The Balance Between Hope and Realism

So how should we approach the concept of the Messiah and the idea of redemption in our own times? The Talmud (Shabbat 31a) teaches that when we pass from this world, one of the questions we will be asked is whether we anticipated the redemption. This anticipation is not merely about hoping for a better future but is meant to inspire us to live our lives with purpose and to contribute to making the world a better place.

The Rambam (Hilchot Melachim 12:4, 5) emphasizes that the messianic era will be a time when the world is at peace, when knowledge of God is widespread, and when people are free to pursue wisdom and spirituality. This vision of the future should inspire us to live in a way that brings the world closer to that ideal. However, we must also heed the warning of the Talmud (Sanhedrin 96b) not to attempt to calculate the end of days. Such calculations often lead to despair when they inevitably prove wrong and can distract us from the real work of living a life of Torah and mitzvot.

Hope Without Despair: A Dual Approach

We are not only required to believe in the coming of the Messiah but also to hope for it with all our hearts. This dual approach—belief coupled with hope—ensures that we live with a sense of purpose without falling into despair if the Messiah does not come in our time.

But what does it truly mean to hope and wait for the Messiah? This anticipation is more than just a passive longing; it informs how we live our daily lives. While I believe in a messianic world, this belief must influence my day-to-day behavior, guiding my actions and decisions.

The Rambam’s twelfth principle of faith of being "mechakeh" (waiting) for the Messiah is similar to the Talmud's recommendation of being "metzapeh l'yeshua" (anticipating salvation). The phrase "u'metzapim lishua" is recited by Sephardim at the end of the Shemona Esrei blessing that petitions for the sprouting of David, i.e., the coming of the Messiah. But what does this requirement of "tzipiya" (anticipation) or "chakeh" (waiting) really entail?

The declaration of the Rambam’s twelfth principle of faith, "v’af al pi she’yitmahamai’ah im kol eh achakeh lo," likely drawn from Sefer Chabakuk (2:3), is often translated as "I will wait for him, even if he delays." The Metzudat David explains that even if the redemption seems delayed, we must wait for it and not give up hope because it will come in its fixed time.

One understanding of anticipating the redemption is to live a life of mission and purpose, always striving to create a better world, and never despairing, even if the messianic era doesn’t arrive in our lifetime. The promise of a new world remains alive, and our task is to keep working towards it.

A parable that resonates with me is the idea of thousands of tickets in a pile, with one being the golden ticket. Every year you pick another ticket, and it’s not the golden ticket. This doesn’t mean that the golden ticket isn’t in the pile—it is. The more years that pass and the more tickets you go through, the greater the chance that the next year will bring the golden ticket. Just because the Messiah hasn’t come until now, it is no reason to despair. "V’af al pi she’yitmahamai’ah im kol zeh achakeh lo"—I will keep hoping and not despairing, believing that the dream is still alive, and I will continue to dedicate my life to its attainment.

Instead of fixating on a "ketz hageulah" (end of redemption), which places the burden on God to act, we should embrace the approach of being "metzapeh l’yeshua" and "mechakeh lo"—never despairing and continuing our mission with hope and purpose.

But "chakeh" can have a different, perhaps more crucial, meaning for our times. When the Gemara (Sanhedrin 97b) describes God as "mechakeh" for the redemption, Rashi explains that this doesn’t mean God is avoiding despair—God cannot despair. Rather, Rashi says God "desires" (mitaveh) the coming of the Messiah. In our day and age, when we live in prosperity and freedom, perhaps our challenge is not just avoiding despair but nurturing a deep, heartfelt desire for the messianic era.

As an example, Rav Simcha Bunim Alter, the Gerrer Rebbe, recounts how the Chofetz Chaim asked at the 1923 Knessiah Gedolah in Vienna, "Are we really waiting?" He emphasized that we must feel as if we are lacking and truly desire the Messiah's arrival. We need to yearn for the Messiah like parents longing for their only son, eagerly awaiting his return, and never giving up hope.

A Measured Response to the Present Threat

As we face the current threats from Iran, it is crucial to recognize that while these events are deeply concerning, it would be a mistake to definitively view them as the beginning of the ultimate battle of Gog and Magog. History teaches us that attempting to pinpoint specific events as the fulfillment of messianic prophecies can lead to despair and disillusionment. The future remains uncertain, and while we must remain vigilant and hopeful, we must also avoid the pitfalls of over-interpretation. The balance lies in continuing our mission with hope and purpose, without succumbing to fear or premature conclusions. Our task is to live with the tension between hope and realism, preparing ourselves spiritually and morally, while recognizing that the ultimate redemption will come in its time, according to God’s plan.