Newsies

In the previous two articles, we presented the sources for the perspective of the Jewish people as Hashem’s army, and highlighted three takeaways from that perspective. To get a powerful, poignant sense of what such an approach should feel like, let’s turn to the Broadway musical “Newsies.”

“Newsies” describes the plight of a ragtag group of street kids, selling newspapers on the streets of New York in the 1890s. Barely eking out a living, they are outraged to discover one day that the owner of the paper they sell has raised the cost per paper, making it almost impossible for the “newsies”—as they’re called—to make ends meet. To fight back, they form an impromptu union and call for a strike; they won’t distribute the papers at this new price, hopefully forcing the owner to back down. Unfortunately, most of the newsies can’t honor the strike; they need the money—even with the higher costs—and show up to distribute the papers in defiance of the strike. Arranged outside the distribution center, the handful of striking newsies begin to sing:

“Behold the brave battalion/that stands side by side;

Too few in number/and too proud to hide;

Then say to the others/who did not follow through;

You’re still our brothers/and we will fight for you.”

They conceived of themselves as a battalion in an army, fighting for their rights. Movingly, they called out to those who should have been standing with them, but weren’t: “You’re still our brothers, and we will fight for you.” They recognized that not only were they standing up for themselves, they were standing up for all the newsies in the city—whether or not the others had the courage and bravery to join them in their fight.

That is exactly the attitude we are looking to cultivate: A great battalion, proud to be part of the tzivos Hashem—God’s army. Each soldier would recognize that he lives not for himself, but for the battalion; his goals are not his to decide, but are determined by the commander-in-chief. Each member of the battalion would know their place; each would recognize the necessity and importance of his own contributions, along with the importance of his fellow soldiers. And each would receive specific missions to spearhead and accomplish—something concrete and manageable, not insurmountably large and undefined.

Responding to October 7

Does this sound far fetched or unrealistic? I can understand why. Who thinks of himself as a soldier? However, we just got an unbelievable example of what this approach can look like in real life. Klal Yisrael’s response to the Simchas Torah massacre is an all-too-real demonstration of what can happen when we are moved to rise to the challenge at hand. Everyone—not only our heroic soldiers, but also civilians who have never touched a gun and entire communities overseas—found some way to contribute to the war effort—and the result was nothing short of breathtaking. A consistent theme I noticed was that as hard as so many people were working, they didn’t view it as a drain or something they felt “forced” into doing; instead, people felt energized and appreciative of the opportunity (literally using that language!) to contribute in some way.

Can we be motivated to contribute in such a way when we’re not faced with a brutal enemy that wants all of us dead? Can we see ourselves as soldiers when not fighting a literal war?

Life, Liberty and the Pursuit of Happiness

Adopting such a perspective is no simple task; it relates to the most fundamental way a person sees his life and resources. Naturally, we see ourselves as the captains of our own ships; the essential question we ask when making decisions is how something will benefit us. In the words of the Declaration of Independence: “We hold these truths to be self-evident, that all men are created equal, that they are endowed by their Creator with certain unalienable Rights, that among these are Life, Liberty and the pursuit of happiness. That to secure these rights, Governments are instituted among Men, deriving their just powers from the consent of the governed … ”

Every individual is entitled to liberty—the freedom to do as he pleases. Government—the rule of law—is meant to protect that right, not impinge on it. The imagery of the battalion—of the “tzivos Hashem”—argues that this is not the way we—the Jewish people—soldiers in God’s army, are meant to approach life. Instead, everything we do is meant to be oriented toward the service of our Master, to further His project of creating a world that reflects His value system.

Of course, Hashem is no despot. He gives us total independence, refusing to force us to comply with His directives. Nonetheless, the fundamental point stands: we are meant to see our lives not through the lens of liberty, but of service.

It is hard to overstate how radical of a shift this is; it literally touches every decision that you make in life. Rather than everything being about your best interests, the question you are meant to ask is, “What does God want me to do at this moment?”¹

Next week, we’ll explore the impact of this identity shift on two levels: the theoretical and practical.

Tzvi Goldstein graduated from Yeshiva University with semichah and a degree in Psychology. After making aliyah, he taught in Yeshivat Hakotel for five years and now edits sefarim for a number of publishers. He recently published a sefer with Mosaica Press called “Halachic Worldviews,” exploring Rav Soloveitchik’s approach to developing hashkafa from halacha, and writes at tgb613.substack.com. You can reach him at [email protected].

1 Devarim 10:12. The Rema incorporates this idea into the opening lines of the Shulchan Aruch: “Shivisi Hashem l’negdi tamid—I place Hashem before me at all times.” It is also recorded as the sole content of Siman 231: “That all your actions should be for the sake of heaven.”