We Jews, particularly Israelis, suffered a terrible tragedy on October 7, 2023. Much has been written and said about the “October 8th Jew” — the Jew whose identity sharpened overnight, whose sense of solidarity intensified, whose awareness of vulnerability and peoplehood became immediate and urgent. I find myself thinking about what happens after that initial surge begins to settle. In other words, if something awakened on October 8, what must we offer on October 9?
Bret Stephens — the Pulitzer Prize–winning columnist for The New York Times — addressed this question in his recent “State of World Jewry” address at the 92nd Street Y in New York. In that speech, he argued that the Jewish community has invested enormous energy in fighting antisemitism — through advocacy, awareness campaigns, and public defense — yet antisemitism persists. His point was not that defense is unnecessary; security matters deeply. Rather, he suggested that fighting antisemitism has become too central to how we organize Jewish communal life. When we define ourselves primarily in response to those who oppose us, we risk building an identity that is reactive rather than generative.
Stephens therefore called for a rebalancing of priorities: greater investment in Jewish education, literacy, leadership, and institutions capable of sustaining Jewish life from within. Security protects a community, he argues, but identity sustains it.
Zvika Klein — Editor-in-Chief of The Jerusalem Post — approached this same moment from a different but complementary angle in his January 16 editorial, “Future of Jewish Diaspora Should Follow Spirit of ‘October 8 Jewry.’” Klein describes the surge in Jewish engagement after October 7 — synagogues filling, Jewish symbols worn openly, renewed learning, volunteering, aliyah — as a once-in-a-generation rupture. For him, this is not simply a strategic correction but a hinge moment in Jewish history, comparable in scale to 1948 or 1967. Incremental thinking will not suffice. If Jewish energy has awakened, leadership must respond with boldness at a generational scale.
Both Stephens and Klein are responding to the October 8th Jew — the Jew who stood up.
But there is another stage emerging, not for everyone, but for a significant segment of those newly engaged. In my life as a rabbi — and now living in Israel — the question I hear most often is quieter and more personal. It is not only about safety or institutions. It is the question: How do I live a life of meaning within Judaism?
For some, the energy of solidarity gradually deepens into a spiritual search. The rallies end. The headlines shift. What remains is a longing not merely to belong, but to live differently.
Perhaps we might call this person the October 9th Jew.
If the October 8th Jew awakens to danger and belonging, the October 9th Jew awakens to meaning. The October 8th Jew says, “I did not realize how precarious Jewish life is.” The October 9th Jew says, “Now that I am awake, how shall I live?”
Not every newly engaged Jew will ask that question. But many will. They will ask what kind of human being Judaism calls them to become, how to structure their lives around something sacred, how to cultivate compassion, discipline, courage, and responsibility. They will seek not only a stronger Jewish community, but a deeper Jewish self.
Judaism has never understood itself merely as a survival project. Survival matters, but survival is not the purpose. The purpose is to shape lives of conscience, depth, and holiness within the ordinary rhythms of time.
Stephens helps us correct the communal compass. Klein challenges us to build boldly. Yet for those who become spiritual seekers, something more is required. They are not satisfied with belonging alone. They search for wisdom, for practice, for a way of life that carries meaning.
If we do not speak to that hunger, the awakening will fade for them. If we do speak to it, the energy of October 8 can mature into something enduring — a generation not only awakened, but rooted.
And so tonight I would like us to consider: if our institutions grow stronger and our communal vision grows bolder, what does Judaism offer the spiritual seeker? What does it mean to move from identity shaped by reaction to identity shaped by formation?
