Rosh Hashana 5786 MESSAGE

The Lottery of Nations and the Lottery of Israel: Aleinu on Rosh Hashana

Introduction – A Neglected Prayer at the Center of the Year

For most of the year, Aleinu l’shabeach is treated as the neglected prayer. We rush through it, often already halfway out the door. It feels like a polite conclusion to the service, little more than an afterthought.

And yet the Mishna Berura (132:5) cites something astonishing:

כשאומרים עלינו לשבח כראוי, הקדוש ברוך הוא וכל פמליא של מעלה מסתכלים עליהם ואומרים: "אַשְׁרֵי הָעָם שֶׁכָּכָה לוֹ, אַשְׁרֵי הָעָם שֶׁה’ אֱלֹקָיו"

When Aleinu is said properly, Hashem and His entire heavenly entourage look down upon Israel and declare: “Fortunate is the nation that has this, fortunate is the nation whose God is Hashem” (Tehillim 144:15).

Think about that. When we rattle off Aleinu, Hashem listens, and the angels are watching. And yet, most of the year, we hardly give it a second thought.

But three days a year, Aleinu is no afterthought. On the high holidays, on Rosh Hashana, in Mussaf, Aleinu becomes the center of the center: placed in the heart of Malchuyot, which itself is the central section of the central prayer on the central day of the year. Clearly, Aleinu carries secrets that we have only begun to uncover.

The Arizal’s Secret – Ein Od

This is not the main point of this blog, but I would be remiss not to mention a very powerful segula recorded by the Arizal. Rav Chaim Vital writes in his name that when one says the words “Ein Od” in Aleinu — there is nothing besides Him — one should pause and concentrate on whatever yeshuah (salvation) one needs most. The Arizal assures us, this segula is: baduk u’menuseh — “It is tested and proven.”

And indeed, everyone needs a yeshuah. For some it may be refuah (healing), for others parnassa (sustenance), for others a shidduch or children. After completing the first paragraph of Aleinu, with the words Ein Od, and before beginning Al Kein, a person should pause briefly and contemplate — not verbally but silently, in thought — the yeshuah that he or she needs. That is the segula.

Shelo Asanu K’goyei Ha’aratzot – A Radical Claim

The Arizal’s segula highlights how Aleinu can speak to each of us on the most personal level, offering a moment to bring our deepest needs before Hashem. Yet Aleinu is not confined to individual salvations. Its ultimate depth emerges when we zoom out to its national — even cosmic — significance.

This blog, which continues from the previous piece and is likewise based on a shiur of Rav Eli Mansour (soon to be uploaded in the “Learn” section of the website), aims to uncover that layer. For Aleinu, especially on Rosh Hashana, is far more than a closing prayer. It is the declaration of the national lottery — the cosmic choice that defines us as Hashem’s people — a choice that is reaffirmed every single year on Rosh Hashana.

The verse in Aleinu says:

שֶׁלֹּא עָשָׂנוּ כְּגוֹיֵי הָאֲרָצוֹת, וְלֹא שָׂמָנוּ כְּמִשְׁפְּחוֹת הָאֲדָמָה. שֶׁלֹּא שָׂם חֶלְקֵנוּ כָּהֶם, וְגוֹרָלֵנוּ כְּכָל הֲמוֹנָם

For He did not make us like the nations of the lands, and did not place us like the families of the earth. For He did not make our portion like theirs, nor our lottery like all their multitudes.

At first glance, these words sound like a polite thank-you, a formal expression of gratitude that we are different. But in truth, it is a radical and even explosive claim. We are declaring that the Jewish people operate on an entirely different axis than the rest of the world.

Notice the language: not only chelkeinu — our portion — but also goraleinu — our lottery. A chelek is something one can earn, divide, or share. A goral is different. A lottery is not the result of effort or merit. It is not predictable. It does not follow rules. It is drawn from above, outside of human calculation.

When we say “she’lo sam chelkeinu kahem, v’goraleinu k’chol hamonam,” we are declaring: the fate of the nations is governed by chelek — measured portion, supervised by angels, distributed according to natural order. But our fate is goral — a lottery directly in Hashem’s hand, beyond all law, beyond all precedent.

This explains why Jewish history is so incomprehensible. By any natural metric, a people so small, exiled so often, persecuted so relentlessly, should have disappeared long ago. Yet the Jewish people endure — not because of our chelek within the natural order, but because of our goral above it.

But this immediately raises questions: what goral are we speaking of? When was this lottery ever drawn? Was there truly a moment in history when the nations of the world were divided by lot, and Israel was chosen separately?

Ha’azinu – The Structure of Humanity

The answer begins in Parshat Ha’azinu:

בְּהַנְחֵל עֶלְיוֹן גּוֹיִם, בְּהַפְרִידוֹ בְּנֵי אָדָם, יַצֵּב גְּבֻלֹת עַמִּים לְמִסְפַּר בְּנֵי יִשְׂרָאֵל. כִּי חֵלֶק ה’ עַמּוֹ, יַעֲקֹב חֶבֶל נַחֲלָתוֹ.

(Devarim 32:8–9)

“When the Most High gave nations their inheritance, when He separated the children of man, He set the borders of the peoples according to the number of the Children of Israel. For Hashem’s portion is His people; Yaakov is the cord of His inheritance.”

On the surface, these verses describe the division of humanity after the Tower of Bavel. But Chazal and Rashi reveal that it goes much deeper: “לְמִסְפַּר בְּנֵי יִשְׂרָאֵל” — “according to the number of the Children of Israel.” Meaning: just as seventy souls descended with Yaakov into Egypt (Devarim 10:22: “בְּשִׁבְעִים נֶפֶשׁ יָרְדוּ אֲבוֹתֶיךָ מִצְרָיְמָה”), so too Hashem established seventy nations in the world.

The implication is breathtaking. The very map of humanity was not drawn arbitrarily, nor by language groups or geography alone. It was drawn around Israel. The seventy nations are not an independent reality, but a reflection, a counterbalance, to the seventy root souls of the Jewish people. Israel is the template; the nations are the echo.

This is why the verse continues: “כִּי חֵלֶק ה’ עַמּוֹ” — Hashem’s portion is His people. Every other nation has its inheritance, its borders, its angel. But Israel is the center — the “cord of His inheritance,” directly tied to Hashem Himself.

Thus, already in Ha’azinu, the Torah hints to the great lottery of nations: seventy distributed under angelic ministers, and one — Israel — held directly in Hashem’s hand.

The Lottery of the Nations – Pirkei D’Rabbi Eliezer 24

Pirkei D’Rabbi Eliezer (chapter 24) paints the drama in vivid terms. After the Tower of Bavel, when humanity was scattered and languages confused, Hashem decreed the formation of distinct nations. To symbolize this, He wrote the names of the seventy nations on slips of parchment and placed them into a lottery box. He then summoned the ministering angels and commanded: “Each of you draw one slip. That nation is yours to supervise.” One by one, the angels reached into the box and pulled out their allotted peoples, taking responsibility to guide them according to the fixed laws of nature and the limited measure of light that each nation would receive.

But then, in a move that changes the course of history, Hashem added one more slip: Yisrael. Unlike the others, this slip was not for any angel to touch. Hashem Himself reached into the box first, drew out the slip marked Yisrael, and proclaimed:

כִּי חֵלֶק ה’ עַמּוֹ, יַעֲקֹב חֶבֶל נַחֲלָתוֹ“

For Hashem’s portion is His people; Yaakov is the lot of His inheritance.”

The message was unmistakable: all the nations of the world would be governed indirectly, under the supervision of angels — intermediaries bound to the natural order. But Israel would be governed directly by Hashem, outside the limits of nature, with no intermediary in between.

This Midrash teaches us that chosenness is not merely a title, but a structural reality of creation. From the very beginning, Israel was set apart, placed under Hashem’s own providence, while the rest of the world was distributed among the ministering powers. That “drawing of the slip” is the moment when Jewish history was set on a trajectory unlike any other.

Tehillim 16:6 – A Pleasant Lot

King David reflects on this in Tehillim:

חֲבָלִים נָפְלוּ־לִי בַּנְּעִימִים; אַף נַחֲלָת שָׁפְרָה עָלַי

“The measuring lines have fallen for me in pleasant places; indeed, my inheritance is beautiful.”

The Metzudat David explains: “חבלים” — cords, like ropes used in ancient times to measure and divide inheritances among heirs. King David is saying: when the Divine “lot” was measured out, my line fell in the most delightful portion. What is that portion? Not land, not wealth, not power — but Hashem Himself. My inheritance is not physical but eternal.

And the Midrash adds a beautiful mirror image: just as King David declares that his portion is Hashem, Hashem declares the same about us. “My lottery, My cord, has fallen in the pleasant place — and that place is Yisrael.” In other words, the relationship is mutual. We see our inheritance in Hashem, and He sees His inheritance in us. It is not just our lot that is beautiful, but the very fact that Hashem Himself has chosen us as His “pleasant lot.”

Direct Providence vs. Angelic Providence

This distinction explains all of Jewish history. As I wrote in a previous blog, there is a world of difference between being under the supervision of an angel of Hashem and being directly under Hashem Himself. Every nation has its angel — a spiritual minister appointed to oversee it. Angels are powerful, but they are bound by rules. They operate within the framework Hashem has assigned them, which means their governance follows patterns, cycles, and laws of nature. That is why the histories of the nations rise and fall in relatively predictable ways. Empires are born, expand, peak, and decline. It is a rhythm as old as time.

But Israel is under Hashem directly. That means there is no intermediary, no angelic buffer. Direct providence is not confined to the natural order; it is above nature. And because of that, Jewish history has always been unlike any other. We experience extremes no other nation ever sees. At times, we rise to unimaginable heights — Revelation at Sinai, the First Temple, a tiny people influencing the moral conscience of the world. And at times, we descend to unspeakable tragedies — exile, persecution, destruction on a scale that defies explanation.

This is precisely what Aleinu means when we say: “Shelo sam chelkeinu kahem, v’goralenu k’chol hamonam” — “He did not make our portion like theirs, nor our lot like the masses.” Our ticket is not one of predictable natural law. It is a different ticket entirely: a covenant that places us directly under Hashem’s providence, where nothing is precedent-bound and everything is possible.

The Golden Calf – When the Lottery Was Nearly Revoked

But this arrangement is not guaranteed. The Torah itself records a moment when Israel’s special status nearly collapsed. After the sin of the Golden Calf, Hashem told Moshe:

הִנֵּה אָנֹכִי שֹׁלֵחַ מַלְאָךְ לְפָנֶיךָ

(Shemot 23:20)

“Behold, I send an angel before you.”

On the surface, these words sound like a promise of protection. But Chazal explain that this was in fact a devastating threat. It meant: “I am finished with you. From now on, you will be led by an angel, just like every other nation. You will no longer be governed directly by Me."

This was the very undoing of the lottery — the cancellation of Israel’s unique ticket. If Hashem were to place us under the supervision of an angel, we would become just another nation, subject to the same laws of history, the same cycles of rise and fall, with no guarantee of eternal survival.

It was only Moshe Rabbeinu’s desperate intervention — that reversed this decree. Moshe understood that if the Jewish people lost their direct relationship with Hashem, if they were reduced to being ruled by an angel, their story would be no different from that of Rome or Persia or Babylon. Their eternity depended on Hashem Himself leading them.

The Golden Calf teaches us a sobering lesson: the lottery can be challenged. Our chosenness is not automatic, not mechanical. It is tested by sin, placed in doubt by rebellion, and renewed only through teshuva and tefillah. That is why Rosh Hashana is so urgent. Every year, once again, the question is raised: will Israel remain Hashem’s people, or be handed over to the angels?

Rav Shlomo Kluger – A New Lottery Every Year

Rav Shlomo Kluger, in his Chochmat Shlomo, makes a startling claim. The lottery that determined Israel’s destiny at the Tower of Bavel is not a one-time event, fixed for eternity. Instead, he says, it is renewed every single Rosh Hashana.

On that day, the angels of the nations gather in the heavenly court and present their argument before Hashem:“Why should Israel continue to hold the winning ticket? Look at them! They sin, they stumble, they neglect Your Torah. They are no better — and perhaps worse — than the other nations. Why should they remain privileged? Let us draw again, and let the lottery fall where it may!”

And in heaven, says Rav Shlomo Kluger, there is rumbling. The case of Israel is reopened. Once more, the fundamental question of history is placed on the table: will Am Yisrael continue to be Hashem’s portion, or will they be demoted to the level of all the nations, ruled only by the cold justice of nature and angels?

This radical idea transforms our understanding of Rosh Hashana. It is not just the day when individuals stand before Hashem to be judged for life, health, and livelihood. It is also the day when the very identity of the Jewish people is challenged in the highest court. Every year, says Rav Shlomo Kluger, the angels demand a recount. And every year, the Jewish people must prove anew, through their prayers and their bowing in Aleinu, that they remain Hashem’s treasured nation.

The Ram”a mi-Pano – A Different Ticket

Rav Menachem Azariah of pano (Ram”a mi-Pano) explains Aleinu’s words:

“שֶׁלֹּא שָׂם חֶלְקֵנוּ כָּהֶם, וְגוֹרָלֵנוּ כְּכָל הֲמוֹנָם.”

“Our portion is not like theirs, our lottery is not like theirs.”

He says: goral = lottery ticket. The nations’ tickets are overseen by angels. Our ticket is Hashem Himself. That is why our fate is so extreme, supernatural, beyond natural law.

But if the angels challenge the ticket each year, how is the decision made?

When the Lottery Is Decided – Aleinu of Mussaf

He goes on to reveal that the verdict of Rosh Hashana — the question of whether Am Yisrael will once again remain Hashem’s chosen nation — is sealed at a single, breathtaking moment: when Israel says Aleinu in Mussaf of Rosh Hashana.

As the congregation bends low and proclaims with one voice:

וַאֲנַחְנוּ כּוֹרְעִים וּמִשְׁתַּחֲוִים לִפְנֵי מֶלֶךְ מַלְכֵי הַמְּלָכִים הַקָּדוֹשׁ בָּרוּךְ הוּא“

And we kneel and bow before the King of Kings, the Holy One, blessed be He.”

— at that instant, the heavenly courtroom falls silent. The prosecuting angels who have clamored for Israel’s portion to be revoked are suddenly confronted with a sight none of their nations can reproduce: an entire people bowing in complete submission to the Master of the Universe.

And it is precisely here that the Maharam mi’Pano emphasizes: the lottery is decided at the very moment of hishtachavaya — when we bow down in Aleinu. That bow is not symbolic. It is the cosmic act that renews our covenant.

Hashem turns to the angels and says: “Look! They are the only people bowing to Me today. None of your nations bow. Do you still question their portion? They are Mine for another year.”

That act of bowing is the ticket being drawn again. Every knee bent, every whispered Aleinu, tips the scale and seals the verdict: Israel remains Hashem’s portion, not governed by angels, but directly by Him.

This is also how he explains the words מֶלֶךְ מַלְכֵי הַמְּלָכִים in the verse

וַאֲנַחְנוּ כּוֹרְעִים וּמִשְׁתַּחֲוִים וּמוֹדִים לִפְנֵי מֶלֶךְ מַלְכֵי הַמְּלָכִים, הַקָּדוֹשׁ בָּרוּךְ הוּא

This  is usually translated as “the King of Kings of Kings, the Holy One, blessed be He.” But the word מַלְכֵי (malchei) is also a shortened form of מַלְאֲכֵי (malachei), meaning “angels.” In that reading, the phrase becomes:

“The King — of the angels — of the kings.”

The point is profound. Every nation on earth has a king or ruler. But that ruler himself is governed by a spiritual minister, a guardian angel appointed over that nation. These are the malachei ha’melachim — the angels of the kings. The earthly kings follow the dictates of their angels; the angels, in turn, are bound by the framework Hashem has assigned them.

And above them all stands Hashem. He is not just “King of Kings” in the earthly sense, but “King of the angels of the kings” — the One who rules over the angels that in turn govern the nations.

This distinction ties directly back to the theme of the lottery. The nations are ruled indirectly, through kings and their angels. Israel, however, is ruled directly by Hashem Himself. When we bow in Aleinu, we declare that we do not serve kings, nor their angels — only the King above them all.

Shehem Mishtachavim L’hevel Va’rik – Edom and Yishmael

Now the previous line in Aleinu  also makes sense:

שֶׁהֵם מִשְׁתַּחֲוִים לְהֶבֶל וָרִיק, וַאֲנַחְנוּ כּוֹרְעִים וּמִשְׁתַּחֲוִים לִפְנֵי מֶלֶךְ מַלְכֵי הַמְּלָכִים.“

They bow to emptiness, and we bow to the King of Kings.”

On the surface, this simply means that the nations worship vanity, while we worship Hashem. But Chazal saw a deeper allusion.

The Torah itself already describes foreign worship as etz va’even — “wood and stone”:

וַעֲבַדְתֶּם־שָׁם אֱלֹהִים מַעֲשֵׂה יְדֵי אָדָם, עֵץ וָאֶבֶן, אֲשֶׁר לֹא־יִרְאוּן וְלֹא־יִשְׁמְעוּן וְלֹא־יֹאכְלוּן וְלֹא־יְרִיחוּן.

“And there you shall serve gods made by human hands, wood and stone, which cannot see or hear or eat or smell.” (Devarim 4:28)

Chazal and later commentators note the symbolism: wood points toward Edom/Christianity — the cross (etz), while stone points toward Yishmael/Islam — the black stone in Mecca (even). Thus, even the Torah’s language of “wood and stone” hints to the two dominant religions that would rule the Jewish people in exile.

And this ties back to Aleinu:

• רִיק (rik = emptiness)

• has the gematria 310, equal to “ישו” (Yeshu). This refers to Edom/Christianity, bowing to the cross — etz.

• הֶבֶל (hevel = vanity)

• encodes Islam/Yishmael:

  • ה = 5 daily prayers

  • ב = 2 yearly festivals (Eid al-Fitr and Eid al-Adha)

  • ל = 30 days of Ramadan

    
    

    Its worship centers around bowing to the even — the stone in

  
  

  So the pasuk reads: “They bow to Hevel (Yishmael) and Rik (Edom), but we bow to the King of Kings.”

And this explains Jewish history. Our sages teach that although there were originally seventy nations, over time they merged into two great groupings: those aligned with Edom and those aligned with Yishmael. Together they cover the entire world. That is why Jewish exile narrows into two great exiles: under Edom and under Yishmael.

Every Rosh Hashana, their angels clamor for the lottery to be redrawn. But Hashem points and says: “They bow to Hevel and Rik — to wood and stone. My people bow to Me. The ticket remains theirs.”

The Zohar – 70 Faces of Torah, 70 Nations, 70 Souls

The Zohar (Pinchas 221b; Ha’azinu 285a) adds a layer of mystical depth. Just as the Torah has seventy faces, so too Israel has seventy root souls, and opposite them stand the seventy nations — distorted reflections of those roots. The nations, says the Zohar, receive only fragmented light — sparks of Divine vitality filtered through the angels appointed over them. Their connection is indirect, broken into pieces, never the full picture.

By contrast, Israel’s light is direct and whole. Our portion is not mediated through angels, but through Hashem Himself. It is not scattered sparks but the source itself. That is why the pasuk declares: כִּי חֵלֶק ה’ עַמּוֹ — Hashem’s portion is not a fragment, but His people.

The Halacha of Confidence – Shaving and Rejoicing

Here we encounter a striking contradiction. On the one hand, the Gemara teaches that we do not say Hallel on Rosh Hashana because the day is too frightening — it is a Day of Judgment, and we stand trembling before Hashem. And yet, other Gemaras — and even halacha itself — tell us to approach the day with confidence and joy.

The Yerushalmi (Rosh Hashana 1:3) asks: usually when a man faces judgment, he comes anxious, unkempt, unshaven, uncertain of his fate. But Israel goes to judgment differently. The Tur (O.C. 581) rules: on Rosh Hashana one should cut his hair, wear clean clothes, and eat festive food. Why? Because we are confident. Nechemia told the people (Nechemia 8:10):

“אִכְלוּ מַשְׁמַנִּים וּשְׁתוּ מַמְתַקִּים… כִּי חֶדְוַת ה’ הִיא מָעֻזְּכֶם.”

“Eat rich foods and drink sweet drinks… for the joy of Hashem is your strength.”

So which is it? Fear or joy?

The answer is that there are really two judgments taking place on Rosh Hashana. The first is the personal judgment — each individual’s fate for the year ahead. That is frightening, because none of us knows what the year can bring. I look back at my own past year and could never have imagined it. Who can? On that level, trembling is natural.

But there is also the national judgment — the cosmic lottery where Hashem renews His choice of Am Yisrael as His people. And that verdict we already know: it is sealed in our favor. At the moment of the Hishtachavaya (the bowing) in Aleinu, Hashem declares once again: “They are Mine.” That is why we shave, dress well, and rejoice. Because no matter what happens in our personal story, the national story remains unshaken.

And so the contradiction dissolves. On the individual level we are anxious; on the national level we are confident. Both emotions coexist within the same day.

Sukkot – Zman Simchateinu

This also explains why Sukkot is called Zman Simchateinu — the Season of our Joy. But here too a question arises: is it not a little premature to celebrate? Only four days earlier, on Yom Kippur, the judgment was sealed. Do we already know what the year will bring? Surely the real test of judgment comes only with time. Would it not make more sense to wait until the end of the year, and then celebrate retroactively, once we see what decree was given to us on the previous Rosh Hashana?

The answer is that Sukkot is not about our personal verdicts — which remain unknown and keep us humble and prayerful throughout the year. Rather, Sukkot celebrates the national verdict: that Hashem has once again chosen the Jewish people as His portion. That truth is already sealed and already known. On the deepest level, Sukkot is the festival of confidence in that unshakable reality.

That is why on the days of Sukkot, the Beit Hamikdash offerings included 70 bulls, corresponding to the seventy nations of the world. And on Shemini Atzeret — which culminates in Simchat Torah — only one bull was brought, corresponding to Israel alone. The symbolism is striking: the seventy nations are there, with their angels, their allotted fates, and their indirect providence. And then there is Israel, the one nation under Hashem’s direct supervision.

The point is clear. What we celebrate on Sukkot is not what the new year will bring in detail — health or illness, wealth or poverty, joy or trial. Those are part of the personal judgments whose outcomes we can never fully know in advance. What we celebrate is that the status quo of history itself has remained intact: the Jewish people have once again been chosen as Hashem’s portion, distinct from the seventy nations, bound to Him alone.

That is why the joy of Sukkot is immediate and overflowing. The personal decree is hidden; the national decree is revealed. And on that, we rejoice without hesitation.

When the National and the Personal Intertwine

But the national verdict is not detached from the personal. The two are bound together. Because we have been chosen on a national level, because the Jewish people are under Hashem’s direct supervision, we also benefit from that individually. The fate of the nation spills over into the fate of every Jew.

I think of it in very real terms. The prognosis my wife once received was exceptionally low, and at first the survival percentage weighed heavily on me. But you know what is even statistically slimmer? Our chance of being born Jewish, of being born religious.

I started thinking about the numbers. There are about 15.8 million Jews in the world today. Out of a global population of 8.2 billion, that makes us just 0.19% of humanity — not even a full percent, but a fraction of a fraction. And even that figure is generous, since it includes many who “identify” as Jewish but may not be halachically Jewish. Still, let’s use it.

Statistically, your chance of being born Jewish is about 1 in 527. For every 527 babies born, only 1 will be Jewish. That fact alone is enough reason to say Aleinu with gratitude — that Hashem chose us, a people who are such a tiny slice of the world.

But let’s take it further. How many Jews suffer from something as dreadful as Hepatocellular Carcinoma (HCC)? Globally, about 1 in 7,000 people are living with HCC. If we apply that ratio to the Jewish population of 15.8 million, we’d expect around 2,200–2,300 Jews worldwide to have this disease.

Now here’s where the numbers shrink even more. Not everyone who is ill sees their sickness as a call to Teshuva. Not everyone knows that illness is meant to wake us up to daven for mercy. So let’s say — conservatively — that maybe 1 in 10 Jews with HCC takes it that way, using their suffering as a catalyst to return to Hashem. That brings us down to just 220–230 Jews in the entire world.

Think about that. Out of 1.2 million people worldwide currently living with HCC (based on ~900,000 new cases each year and the 15.8 month average survival rate), only about 220 Jews may be using it as a ladder back to Hashem. If we imagined that all 220 of them davened and were miraculously healed, that would give a survival rate of 0.018% — about 1 in 5,455.

Of course, Hashem doesn’t run the world like a slot machine. If every Jew who prayed recovered, and every Jew who didn’t pray died, there would be no free will. That’s not how Hashem works. So the statistics look different. The doctors told my wife the medical survival rate is 2.5%. And yet I tell her: you need to be in the 0.018%. Be in that tiny group of Jews who storm the heavens and change the story.

Because ultimately, Hashem didn’t make HCC “for the world.” He made it for Am Yisrael, for the 2,200–2,300 Jews who would face it. The 1.2 million non-Jews with the same diagnosis? They are the camouflage, the veil of nature, the illusion that this is “random” and “happens everywhere.” Peru, Armenia, Alaska, Sri Lanka, Honduras — all of that noise conceals the truth.

And it is worth repeating the Midrash (Shemot Rabbah 21:5) 

“אין חולי בא לעולם אלא בשביל ישראל, ולמה חולי בא גם על אומות העולם? כדי שלא יאמרו אומות העולם: אומה זו חולה היא.”

“Sickness comes into the world only because of the Jewish people. And why then do the nations also get sick? So that they will not say: ‘This nation is a sickly nation.’”

This Midrash turns the lens entirely. Illness is not random. It is bound up with the Jewish mission of kaparah (atonement), tikkun (spiritual repair), and awakening us to return to Hashem. The nations also suffer illness - to maintain the illusion of randomness as I explained and to preserve the concept of free will - but also so the Jew will not be stigmatized, singled out, or mocked. That itself is Divine compassion — Hashem hides the purpose behind a veil of universality. He makes it look “random” by spreading it across humanity, but its true root is deeply bound with Am Yisrael.

If Hashem created the world for less than 0.19% of humanity, and He sends illness to an even smaller fraction of that fraction, then praying for an unprecedented recovery is not strange at all. It is the very purpose of the illness. Sickness exists so that Am Yisrael will turn to Hashem, storm the heavens, and reveal that the statistics were only the mask.

That is why I can pray — with full conviction — that my wife may yet be the first to recover from an AFP near one million. Because as a nation, and therefore also personally, we are governed directly by Hashem, not by angels and not by nature. And when Hashem governs directly, nothing is bound by precedent. Everything is possible.

Conclusion – The Living Lottery

The pesukim of Ha’azinu are not ancient poetry; they are the script of history. The seventy souls of Israel gave rise to seventy nations. Those nations bow to hevel and rik — to stone and to wood. But Israel bows only to Hashem.

Every Rosh Hashana, the angels demand a recount. And every year, Hashem waits for us to bow in Aleinu. When we do, He proclaims once more:

כִּי חֵלֶק ה’ עַמּוֹ, יַעֲקֹב חֶבֶל נַחֲלָתוֹ“

For Hashem’s portion is His people; Yaakov is the lot of His inheritance.”

That is our goral. That is our lottery ticket. It is redrawn every year at Aleinu — and we walk out of judgment confident, because we know: the King of Kings has chosen us again.

It is a tremendous privilege — and a weighty responsibility — to be born Jewish, to have a framework through which we can connect directly to our Creator.

But this year has also shown me something else: It's a privilege to be born Jewish for another reason also - and that is how incredible the Jewish people themselves are.

Time and again I have been humbled and overwhelmed by the outpouring of kindness, generosity, and chesed. The way you have reached out, supported, and lifted us up has left me speechless. Truly, we are a nation like no other.

So from the deepest place in my heart, thank you. Thank you for your friendship, your tefillos, your encouragement, and your endless compassion. We could not walk this journey without you.

As we enter the new year, I want to bless you and your families with all the good that Heaven can bestow — health, healing, joy, parnassa, peace, and light. May we all be written and sealed for a year of revealed good.

Kesiva v’Chatima Tova.