Friends Don't Subsidize Friends: Why Ending Military Aid to Israel is Good for the U.S. and Israel

President Trump announced earlier this week that he plans on ending military aid to Israel. The U.S. has provided this financing to Israel since the early 1970s. According to the Congressional Research Service, this funding has accounted for more than 10 percent of Israel's independent defense budget over the years (see below). 

I have long been an ardent supporter of Israel and support its right to self-defense. On Libertarian Jew, I have defended Israel against such slander as apartheid, genocide, occupation, being a settler colonizer, turning Gaza into an "open-air prison," and causing food shortages in Gaza. So it may surprise you that I support ending U.S. military aid to Israel. It's not because I want to see Israel weakened or the United States to abandon one of its closest allies. It is because such an act would benefit both Israel and the United States alike. 

Uncle Sam Has Enough Bills Already

One of my arguments in favor is fiscal. The total U.S. national debt exceeds $40 trillion. With annual deficits in the trillions, Washington needs to scrutinize every dollar in order to improve its fiscal state of affairs and not become like Argentina or like Greece. With average annual aid to Israel being at $3.8 billion, cutting this aid will not solve the U.S.' fiscal woes. But that doesn't mean that smaller amounts escape criticism or scrutiny. 

Even if Israel were in a more precarious economic and military position when this military assistance began in the early 1970s, that never made Israel's defense America's responsibility. There is a fundamental difference between having an interest in another country's security and paying for said security. Being a friend or ally does not entitle a country to financial assistance from the United States. If Israel needs additional resources, it should find a way to fund its own defense, much like any other sovereign nation. 

The argument for continuing this arrangement is even weaker than it was in the 1970s. Israel is a prosperous and technologically advanced country with a sophisticated defense industry and has vast military capabilities. There is no compelling reason that the U.S. should be footing the bill. Ending this aid is an acknowledgment that a country as capable as Israel can afford to defend itself. 

Let Israel's Strategic Interests Drive Its Military, Not Subsidies

There is also a strategic benefit to Israel in ending this financial dependence. Like with any other form of aid, it comes with purse strings. When America wants Israel to comply in a certain way, it pulls those strings in attempts to get Israel to comply, particularly when it comes to Israel's military operations and broader security policy. Without those strings being pulled, Israel can better determine its military and security decisions based on what is best for Israel rather than Washington's preferences. A country that has to defend itself from the Palestinian threat on its borders should not be held back by American political pressure. 

The military aid to Israel is also bad for Israel because, like with all subsidies, there are distortive effects. In the case of this military aid, the money spent must largely be spent on U.S. military equipment. This can distort Israel's procurement decisions because it spends on U.S. products instead of what represents the best value for Israel. That best value could be purchasing from other countries or further developing its own domestic capabilities. If anything, this money could have very well blunted Israel's incentives to focus more on its domestic defense industry, which is an argument that Israel's Institute for National Security Studies has made. Removing this aid could begin a new era in Israel's domestic defense industry.

A Little Less Money, A Lot Less Baggage, A Stronger Alliance

Ending military aid could actually strengthen the American-Israeli relationship. Financial arrangements between friends can complicate relationships, as well as create expectations, obligations, and resentment. Personally, I generally avoid mixing money and friendship for that reason, and I don't think countries are immune to those dynamics. Without American subsidies, Washington would have less financial leverage over Israeli policy. Israel would subsequently have fewer reasons to feel that American support comes with strings attached.  

This could also create benefits politically in the United States. Critics point to this military aid as evidence that American taxpayers are funding Israeli military operations. Ending aid would also help Israel in this regard because having bipartisan support from your most powerful ally is better than the Far Left creating a wedge for Israeli support in the U.S., which has been declining since the October 7 attacks and the subsequent war in Gaza. Israel's critics in the U.S. will always concoct reasons to criticize Israel because that's Israel Derangement Syndrome for you. But removing this specific form of controversy can help with bipartisan support, particularly among Americans who support nations to defend themselves but also oppose foreign military subsidies. This would allow the U.S. and Israel to have shared strategic interests and values instead of being distracted by U.S. taxpayer dollars.

Conclusion

None of this means that the United States is ending its strategic relationship with Israel. If anything there can continue to be intelligence sharing, diplomatic cooperation, joint military research, and arms sales. But there is zero reason why American taxpayers should have to subsidize that relationship. Ending the subsidies does not mean ending the relationship. It means allowing the alliance to stand on its own merits and not have financial obligations muddy it all up. I want Israel to remain strong, prosperous, and secure. I also want the United States to support Israel without having to finance its defense spending. After all, the best friendship is that in which neither needs the other's money. 

Arab Participation in Israeli Elections and Why Israeli Apartheid Is a Myth

Last week, Israel held elections to elect 120 members of its parliament, known as the Knesset. Although he lost his majority, Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu is still in power for the time being. It was not the diminution of Netanyahu's coalition that caught my eye. It was that Arab citizens of Israel came out to vote in droves. That's quite the development for a country that is frequently accused of apartheid. 

Apartheid is not a synonym for "country whose policies I strongly dislike." Much like with the word genocide, apartheid has a specific definition. So perhaps it's worthwhile to ask what apartheid is and whether Israel’s actions fall under that definition. 

Historically, apartheid refers to a system of institutionalized racism that existed in South Africa. In Afrikaans, apartheid means "apartness." International provides a more precise definition of apartheid. Article 7 of the Rome Statute of the International Criminal Court defines apartheid as inhumane acts committed within an institutionalized regime of systematic oppression and domination by one racial group over another, with the intention of maintaining that regime. 

In other words, apartheid is not interchangeable with discrimination, racial prejudice, or unequal treatment. It involves something much more sinister: a systematic, institutionalized system of racial domination. As we will see shortly, that distinction matters. Here are but a few reasons as to why Israel does not constitute an apartheid state.

1. Voting rights. As we saw last week, Arab citizens of Israel have the same right to vote in national elections as Jewish citizens. The can elect representatives to the Knesset and participate in determining the country's government. For much of the 20th century, black people in South Africa were not given such a right.

2. Political representation. Arab citizens can establish political parties, run for office, and serve in the Knesset. Arab political representation dates back to Israel's first parliamentary elections in 1949. Since then, Arab-led parties like the Hadash, Balad, and Ra'am have won parliamentary seats. There have also been Arab ministers in the Israeli government, such as Raleb Majadele and Issawi Frej. 

3. Citizenship. Arab citizens of Israel possess Israeli citizenship, including the right to an Israeli passport and the legal protections and privileges that accompany citizenship. 

4. Judiciary. Arab citizens can serve as judges in Israeli courts. About 8 percent of the judiciary consists of Israeli Arabs. Israeli Arabs can also bring legal challenges against the Israeli government. 

5. Freedom of movement. Arab citizens of Israel are not confined to racially designated residential areas or restricted from traveling throughout Israel. 

6. Employment. Israeli Arabs can participate in virtually every sector of Israeli economic life. There is no general legal prohibition against their entering particular professions because they are Arab. It helps explain why Arab Israelis constituted 25 percent of Israel's physicians; 27 percent of nurses; 27 percent of dentists; and 49 percent of pharmacists. 

7. Civil rights. As Freedom House reminds us, Israeli Arabs enjoy freedom of religion, freedom of expression, and the right to organize politically. They can criticize the government, protest its policies, and advocate for fundamental changes to the country. 

Black people under apartheid in South Africa did not have any of these rights that Arab Israelis have in Israel. Israel is run by humans, so it's going to be an imperfect nation, like all others. But Israel's actions are the antithesis of apartheid. Calling Israel an apartheid state does a service to those who have suffered under actual apartheid. 

You might be thinking that even if one were to concede the points about Arabs in Israel proper, what about the Palestinians in the West Bank and Gaza? In general, Arabs residing in the West Bank and Gaza are not Israeli citizens, which is why they do not receive rights as Israeli citizens, much like I as an American citizen cannot claim rights as a citizen of any other country.

With Gaza, the Israeli Defense Forces withdrew in 2005. Hamas subsequently seized control in 2007. It was only through Hamas' heinous and brutal October 7 attack on Israeli civilians with rape, murder, kidnapping, and torture that led to the current conflict in Gaza. If Hamas didn't attack Israel that day, there would be no conflict or Israeli military presence in Gaza.  

The West Bank is more complicated. Under the Oslo Accords, the Palestinian Authority has quasi-authority under Areas A and B of the West Bank, while Israel has control over Area C of the West Bank. Whether Israel's presence in the West Bank is disputed. I cover an argument showing Israel's legal and historical claims (see Part I and Part II).

And what of the checkpoints and security barriers? The point of such measures is to prevent terror and havoc in Israel proper that was seen during the Second Intifada. These measures must be considered in the context of the ongoing conflict, terrorism, and legitimate security concerns. We can get into whether they are excessive, but security measures unto themselves do not establish the systematic racial oppression and domination required in the legal definition of apartheid.  

This brings us to a larger point: discrimination is not apartheid. Arab citizens of Israel can and do experience discrimination, disparities in public investment, socioeconomic disadvantages, and occasional political hostility. But you want to know something? These problems are not unique to minorities or disenfranchised people in Israel. Discrimination exists in virtually every country on some level, including the most prosperous and democratic nations in the world. If disparity and discrimination or racial prejudice qualified as apartheid, then the word becomes meaningless. If one were to apply that ridiculous standard to everyone, nations like Canada, Norway, the United States, France, and the United Kingdom would also have to be considered apartheid states. 

I know that understanding the meaning of words was never a forte of the pro-Palestinian side, but words and their definitions matter. Governments should be charged by actions, not politically charged words that anti-Semites use to malign the Jewish state. Apartheid defines a specific system of institutionalized racial domination. Israel does not fit that definition by a long shot. Calling Israel an apartheid state constantly doesn't make it so. It simply trivializes the real apartheid and turns a serious legal and moral concept into a nasty political weapon. Like all countries, Israel has its problems, but apartheid isn't one. 

More Marriage Can Increase Housing Stock, But Uncle Sam Shouldn't Play Cupid to Increase Marriage Rates

I am currently attending the American Enterprise Institute's housing conference right now. I got to hear about an intriguing report from AEI called Rings to Roofs. Rather than focusing solely on building more homes, the authors argue that increasing marriage rates could effectively expand housing availability by reducing the number of households seeking separate homes. Their estimate suggests that a return to 2000 marriage rates could free up approximately one million homes, which would solve 18 percent of the current housing shortage. 

Not only that, doing so would move 2.9 million Americans out of low-income jobs because they are spending less on housing. The number of Americans who could afford to buy a home in the U.S. would increase from 46 percent to 67 percent, or an increase of 21 percentage points. Even assuming these estimates are correct, does that mean the government should play Cupid and encourage Americans to marry? 

The AEI report argues that marriage rates influence housing demand because household formation determines how many homes a population needs. That makes sense because two people who marry typically live together instead of occupying two separate homes. Multiply that effect across millions of homes and it ends up freeing existing housing stock. I find this interesting because many solutions in the housing policy focus on housing supply. Looking at household composition to improve the housing stock is a clever way of going about it. But it begs the question of what society should do to increase the marriage rate because the Rings to Roofs report doesn't answer that question. 

One could think that if marriage frees up housing, perhaps subsidizing marriage is a solution to the housing problem. In January, I argued against a policy proposal from the Heritage Foundation that the government should provide a $2,500 subsidy to encourage couples to get married. As I pointed out, a government check cannot guarantee love and happiness. I argued that financial stability, long-term compatibility, and relationship readiness are much larger determinants for marriage than whether the government hands out a check or provides a tax credit. 

More fundamentally, if declining marriage rates are indicative of a cultural shift in attitudes towards commitment and family, the odds that financial incentives will move the needle on marriage rates are low. This is why I would like to briefly ask why marriage is less attractive of an arrangement than it has been in recent decades. 

There are unquestionably economic reasons to delay marriage, whether it's student debt, high rent, or medical costs. I pointed this increase in cost of living back in 2017. But I would contend that the economic arguments are made while overshadowing the cultural undercurrents that make people not want to get married. I am one for individual autonomy, but I also do realize that heavily leaning on personal fulfillment, career advancement, and emphasizing autonomy makes it more difficult to want to marry. 

Instead of viewing marriage as an arrangement in which two people live a shared life and build something together, it can look like a constraint on personal freedom. For more and more people, marriage is seen as something best achieved after acquiring financial stability, establishing a career, and fulfilling individual ambitions before settling down with someone else. Plus, the growing acceptance of cohabitation and alternative living arrangements weakens the need to marry. None of this is to say that economic obstacles are irrelevant or that everyone should get married for its own sake. But again, financial incentives cannot solve a problem that is primarily cultural or one that goes against the grain of one's personal values. 

If we as a society want marriage to regain its appeal, we need to make a persuasive cultural case for the value of commitment, partnership, and building a future together. Families, friends, and communities can make the case for marriage by demonstrating its potential rewards, whether it's companionship, mutual responsibility, and building a life together. Couples in healthy lasting marriages can serve as examples of what commitment makes possible. Families, voluntary associations, religious communities, and civic organizations can offer relationship education, mentoring, and support for couples who want to marry. 

None of this requires treating marriage as obligatory or looking down on those who remain singly. It simply means recognizing marriage as a worthwhile aspiration instead of an outdated institution or something to consider only after every other personal goal has been met. This approach is preferable to government intervention because it involves persuasion, example, and voluntary association, which is exactly what you need when talking about something like love and marriage. 

I am inclined to believe the AEI report because the economic logic of freeing up housing stock by condensing households is sound. I also believe that marriage creates benefits for the individual couples. But that doesn't mean that the government should get involved in the romantic affairs of its citizens. Perhaps the more important question here isn't how to get people to marry, but how to make marriage something more desirable for individuals. That's a challenge that no government subsidy or tax credit can solve. 

France's Riots Show the Carnage That Comes With a Massive Welfare State and Failed Integration of Immigrants

When I was taking French in college, I remember a heated discussion about what it meant to be French. Something I learned is that French nationalism has a much narrower definition of what constitutes a "true citizen" than the American concept of identity that is built on a creed. Even with France's talk about "liberté, égalité, fraternité," a "true Frenchman" apparently is a Christian person whose lineage traces back centuries. 

This goes beyond an academic debate in college because that societal definition has caused consternation with the huge influx of Muslim immigrants that have moved into France in recent years. If you are not convinced, look at the recent riots in France. What started off as student protests about overflowing classrooms, teacher shortages, and decaying buildings morphed into something much larger. There are those on the Right who believe that it is mass migration of Muslim immigrants that explains why French riots have reached a whole new level. 

I think the story is more complicated. France's expansive welfare state has failed the social harmony its proponents promise. Meanwhile, failure to integrate immigrants who reject the country's secular, liberal norms has created a different social fracture. The combination of these two is more combustible than either one of these on its own. 

If you're someone on the Far Left in the United States trying to design your ideal society, you would think that France would be a good place to start. The government spends lavishly on things like healthcare, education, and housing. The pension system is quite generous. France has some of the highest taxes in the developed world. France even has a 35-hour workweek. And where has that gotten them? With high public debt, economic stagnation, and rioting in the street. France's government largesse cannot get rid of economic scarcity or the notion that tradeoffs exist. It is a reminder that government cannot spend its way to better essential services, prosperity, or social harmony. 

Economics are only half the story. What makes this powder keg more explosive is what happens when a country fails to integrate a large cohort of its citizens. As I argued last December, immigration is not merely about letting people into a country. It is ensuring that they are integrated into its economic, civic, and legal institutions. This is especially important in a place like France where laïcité reflects a strong commitment to secular government and the supremacy of civil law over a religious authority like sharia law. 

It is not simply the fact that Muslim-majority countries throughout the world have a penchant for things like making women second class citizens, criminally punishing homosexuals, and imposing strict blasphemy, apostasy, and anti-defamation laws against Islam or their prophet Muhammad. As the polling I went through last year illustrates, a significant number of these Muslim immigrants would like to do things like declaring Islam as the official religion, imposing sharia law, making it illegal to show a picture of Mohammad, outlawing homosexuality, and making compulsory halal food in schools and hospitals. 

As I explained in 2015, my religious freedom ends where another person's religious freedom begins. There is a fine line between allowing all citizens, including Muslims, to freely practice their religion and imposing one's religion on others. It looks like a fair number of Muslim immigrants have no objection to imposing Islam onto the rest of Europe that would override secular, civil laws. A commitment to tolerance should not be so blind to ignore when individual liberties are being eroded by illiberal forces, even if it is coming from Muslims. A society that is incapable of distinguishing between religious freedom and the impulse to impose religious authority has signed its own death warrant. 

The economic and cultural problems are distinct, but they feed off one another. Rigid labor laws and barriers to employment make upward more difficult, while the bloated welfare state can leave people dependent on it. When immigrants fail to integrate into society, the shared commitment to the country's laws and civic principles weakens. France has tried to engineer prosperity through government intervention and largesse, but failed in that endeavor. As a result, it continues to erode the liberal society that the French revolutionaries over two centuries ago were aspiring towards. If France can't get its act together, it will end up a decline that could make the fall of the Roman Empire look like a cakewalk in comparison. 

Ship Happens with Protectionism: Why a Jones Act Waiver Should Lead to Repeal

Ship happens when the government tries to protect an industry, and the maritime industry is no exception. Passed in 1920, the Jones Act is a federal statute requiring all goods transported between U.S. ports be carried on ships that are built, owned, flagged, and crewed by Americans. Instead of "protecting" consumers, the Jones Act actually makes it more difficult to get goods to consumers. Unsurprisingly, the Jones Act waiver that President Trump instated in March acts as an example of what happens when protectionist rules get out of the way. 

What the waiver has accomplished in such a short time is striking. The Cato Institute shows that the waiver has enabled 300 voyages carrying 80 billion barrels of cargo. What happened with the Jones Act in the West Coast, Alaska, and Hawai'i is even more telling. Under the waiver, this region had 20.7 billion barrels arrive. This is much higher than the 7.7 billion barrels carried over the entire 2009-2025 period.  

Similarly, Puerto Rico imported 800,000 barrels of propane under the waiver, which is more than double the amount of propane imported in the last 22 years combined. Even if the waiver only covered energy and fertilizer cargoes, it offers a glimpse as to how much protectionism has suppressed domestic commerce. 

These examples show how protectionism has a predictable way of backfiring. The Jones Act protects domestic shipbuilders from competition on domestic routes, businesses and consumers pay the price. By requiring the vessels to be U.S.-owned, U.S.-flagged, and U.S.-owned, the law restricts the number of ships that can enter ports. 

The Competitive Enterprise Institute summarized research on the Jones Act. Not only can the Jones Act make shipping costs up to three times the costs of foreign shipment, but removing the Jones Act would actually increase output by 71 percent, according to a report from the OECD.

When businesses can only select from a limited number of eligible vessels, they face less competition and fewer alternatives when demand rises or ships are unavailable. That scarcity pushes freight rates higher. It's basic supply and demand. When demand remains constant, restricting supply has this tendency to raise prices. 

Those higher prices don't stop at the dock. Businesses either absorb the expense and reduce their profits, or they pass the cost onto the consumers. Regardless of the choice, these decisions ripple throughout the U.S. economy. 

By allowing for more competition, the waiver eases the artificial scarcity, expands shipping capacity, and makes previously uneconomical shipments more viable. In other words, relaxing a law intended to protect American maritime commerce can help more American businesses move more American goods to American consumers. 

The Jones Act is supposed to be protecting American shipping, maritime jobs, and national security. As CEI points out in a study about the Jones Act, the national security argument is questionable at best. What the law does a fine job of is protecting a small handful of politically connected industry players at the expense of everyone else. The current waiver demonstrates what can happen when you remove onerous restrictions: more opportunities for Americans to do business with one another. For the same of American citizens and businesses, it's long past time that we get rid of this protectionist monstrosity.

Québec Electing a Separatist Part Doesn't Mean That Québec Will Secede from Canada

Does Québec want to separate from Canada? You would think that because the Parti Québecois (PQ), Québec's separatist political party, won the provincial elections earlier this week. The PQ had been on the decline in 2012, and has not enjoyed the heyday it had in the 1970s-1990s. If anything, it was close to extinction in 2022 with winning just 3 legislative seats. But the PQ has made a comeback this week by winning 59 of the legislature's 127 seats, even thought it received 27.9 percent of the popular vote. 

Although that is quite the comeback for a political party that was on its way out, it might be too premature to say that Québec wants to secede. According to the most recent poll, which was from Research Co., 27 percent of the voters were in favor of seceding from Canada. Polling from Léger, as well as Pallas Data and Synopsis Recherche, show that a minority of Quebecers would like to separate from Canada.

So what gives? You would think that the PQ's main shtick, which is secession, would have been at the top of Quebecers' list of priorities. As we have seen in the United States and other countries, it is amazing what an unpopular incumbent can bring out in people. They were choosing a government, not answering a yes-or-no referendum about whether Québec should be a separate country. The PQ itself wasn't campaigning on that single issue, even though it is historically its bread and butter. It played on dissatisfaction with the incumbent party and how it handled housing, cost of living, homelessness, French language, immigration, and government efficiency. 

Also, the PQ isn't planning on an independence referendum before Trump leaves the White House in 2029. That might be a combination of not wanting Trump to distort the debate and making sure that the PQ gives itself enough time to govern before it makes larger strides. Regardless, it is a reminder of what such entities as Scotland and Catalonia have encountered with regard to secession. 

It's one thing to win an election. Winning a referendum for independence is another. In 2014, Scotland held its independence referendum and decided to remain in the United Kingdom. Catalonia's attempt to become independent in 2017 produces a constitutional political confrontation with Spain. Québec has tried it twice, in 1980 and 1995, and lose both times. Québec isn't the province it was in the previous century, and Quebecers very well might want to stay, even in spite of its consternation with the Canadian government. 

The PQ has won the government of Québec, but it hasn't won Québec......at least not yet. Québec went through two separatist waves last century, and it's still part of Canada. Other countries also show the complication of people who conceptually want secession and gaining the political feasibility to make it a reality. Even though Québec elected a political party that has historically been separatist, that is a far cry from actual secession. 

Rosh Hashanah and the Art of Getting Knocked Down and Back Up Again

We often imagine teshuvah, the Jewish concept of repentance, as turning around and heading in a new direction. We recognize what went wrong, resolve to change, and begin again. This happens with New Year's resolutions, too. You commit to exercising regularly, but an injury or a demanding work schedule get in the way. You want to spend more time studying Torah, but work deadlines and household responsibilities give you less time than you hoped for. You decide to become more financially responsible, but then a car breaks down or an unexpected bill that wipes out months of savings.

I'm sure we can all come up with personal examples, but the idea is the same: we want to do better, but life gets in the way. And by the time we come back and try to accomplish the goal again, the structure we began to build beforehand has already collapsed. I recently went to a shiur (class on a Torah topic) with a Jewish organization called Hadar. This class offered a different suggestion. Perhaps the metaphor isn't simply turning around or returning. Perhaps it is rebuilding. 

When Moses was at the Burning Bush, he asked G-d the deceptively simple question of "What is Your name?" G-d's answer was אהיה אשר איהי (Exodus 3:14). This phrase has been elusive. It has been translated as "I am that I am" or "I am that I will be." What is interesting is that regardless of translation, the word איהי is a verb. 

This grammatical concept can be helpful with viewing teshuvah. We tend to imagine ourselves as if we were finished things that merely need occasional fixing. But we remain works in progress, shaped by experience and capable of revision. Part of teshuva, therefore, is the recognition that becoming is part of being human. 

There is a Midrash (Tanhuma 11:8) that complicates the metaphor of building in a fascinating way. During the dedication of the Miskhan (Tabernacle), Moses repeatedly dismantled and reassembled the Tabernacle. That is a strange picture of construction: building something only to take it apart again. 

R. Shalom Noah Berezovsky, in his text Netivot Shalom, takes that metaphor and applies it to the spiritual work of a human being. We, too, build structures in our lives. Sometimes, they collapse. The answer he suggests is not to despair, but to rebuild. 

That means teshuvah is not just a theoretical exercise. Even after reflection, there is a point where we have to do something with that knowledge. We prepare, we build, we repair, and sometimes, we have to dismantle so we can build something better. Sometimes taking something apart is not proof that the building was a mistake, but a lesson on learning to build it properly. 

That's where the metaphor gets messier. The hardest part of teshuvah might not be recognizing what needs to change. It may be what happens that even when we put in our best efforts to try to change, it doesn't hold. Or even worse, it collapses. The old habit reemerges. A relationship or job falls apart. At that point, it is all too easy to conclude that failure proves that we cannot change for the better. 

To channel Chumbawamba, "I get knocked down, but I get up again. But you're never gonna keep me down." For me, that nostalgic line is reminiscent of better days, but it reminds us that getting back up is not easy. And it's not supposed to be. Sometimes, it can mean taking the beating of your life, accepting that something we worked towards has been decimated, and then deciding that collapse of said vision or goal will not be the end of the story. 

Teshuvah is not about not falling down. If anything, falling down at some point is inevitable because to err is to be human. It is the willingness of persevering when we do fall down. 

But rebuilding does not mean constructing something the same exact way as you did before. If something collapses, we should learn something from that collapse. Maybe the structure was too weak. Maybe it was too ambitious or the design was wrong. Maybe the building was unsustainable. 

Whatever the reason, teshuvah shows us that we should take the reason(s) seriously. But we don't necessarily return to that blueprint. We can revise it the best we can for our lives. Rebuilding is not repetition, but revision based on the new information. Teshuva doesn't ask us to build perfectly. It asks us to be better builders. 

And that brings us to the New Year. Rosh Hashanah offers us a beginning, but not a clean slate. The previous year is with us, whether it is our successes, joys, failures, emotional baggage, or whatever lessons we learned along the way. 

So we don't need to promise to ourselves "This year, I will get everything right." We can instead say something more modest and honest: "I know more than I did before. I know what some of my failures cost. I may still fall, but I am willing to build again." Starting with what we have learned might lead us to a more durable form of hope and faith.

As much of a Type-A perfectionist that I am, perhaps this year I need to ask if I can finally get everything right. Perhaps a better question may be: What am I willing to build, even if I know that some of it may eventually fall apart? 

As scary as it sounds, I don't know what will endure and what will not. None of us do. But we can choose how we respond when something collapses. We can walk away, or we can get knocked down and then we can get up again.....to build.