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The life-changing magic of washing your hands (on Passover)
(JTA) — At the height of the pandemic, I remember maddeningly washing, scrubbing and antibacterial-spritzing my hands in a bathroom along the New Jersey Turnpike. I then Olympic speed-walked to my car and rubbed my hands down again with a disinfecting wipe.
In those days of social distancing, the basic Jewish ritual of handwashing before meals — tossing water three times over each hand from a communal pitcher — felt to me like an extremely low standard of cleanliness.
You may know the ritual, even if you don’t do it regularly: It’s the second step at the Passover seder, right after the blessing of the wine and just before you dip the parsley in salt water, when guests line up at the sink or someone passes a bowl of water and a towel around the table.
The rest of the year, the Jewish hand-washing ritual is usually associated with substantial meals (at minimum, a meal that includes bread). During the height of the pandemic, I was rarely sitting down for meals — at least not breakfast or lunch — because most of my daylight hours were in Zoom-land and most of what I was consuming was microwaved leftovers. This left me feeling disconnected on multiple levels. Me and millions of other people.
I needed to find ways to reconnect. I started taking more meetings on the phone and I decided that I would try to slow down and eat lunch with a little more mindfulness — even if I was just making myself a peanut butter and jelly sandwich. And that is when I reluctantly rediscovered ritual handwashing.
At first, I stood at our kitchen sink and tried to reconnect to the simplicity of the act — just slowing down and breathing as I poured water over my hands from a vessel. I knew that the ancient origins of ritual washing take us back to the practice of one kohen (priest) washing the feet and hands of another kohen before engaging in the work of the sacrifices. I started to think of this act as some form of sacred self-care where my left hand was caring for my right and vice versa. I started to make a habit of washing my hands with a vessel and I started to read more about the ritual.
One element of the washing is called “shifshuf yadayim,” which literally means “rubbing the hands,” and is initially described in the Tosefta (Yadaim 1:2), a 2nd-century CE compilation of Torah law. In an 18th-century text, Pri Megadim, there is a teaching that the rubbing is done so that the water touches every part of skin on the back and front of the hands and in the nooks between the fingers. This led me to become more mindful of the ways that rubbing brings your consciousness to the contours of your hands and to the act of caring for your hands. Rabbi Shneur Zalman of Liadi (1745-1812) taught that when the rubbing is done with intention, it helps you to obtain a “tahara yeteira” — an extra level of purity.
I slowed down even more. I started using the minimal amount of water, turning my hand gently as I poured the water, and focusing on the sensation of the water covering the entire surface of the hands. In doing so I felt more connected to water’s miraculous power to cleanse and to refresh. And as I did this again and again, it became more than just a conscious moment of self-care and connection to water — it was as if I were awakening the deadened nerves in my hands and healing from the psychic wounds of those many months of lockdown and general fear of others. Through this gentle cleaning and attention to my hands I was experiencing a rebirth and a return — two themes that take us to the present moment.
In the Brenner home, we are frantically zipping about preparing to host the extended clan for Passover, a massive Tetris game of rearranging furniture, shlepping folding tables from the basement and cramming just enough chairs for three generations to sit together in a charming old house in New Jersey that sadly lacks “flow.”
Having guests find their way out of this maze and parade through the kitchen to wash is not feasible. Still, I want to share my newfound love for handwashing, so I will be passing out small cups with 3.2 ounces of water (the minimum amount required) so that everyone can fully engage with that often overlooked second ritual of the seder, known as urchatz. I even went so far as to work with an artist, Helene Brenenson, to design a guide to handwashing that includes a series of wellbeing-centered teachings to accompany the four essential steps of the ritual: lifting the vessel, pouring the water, rubbing the hands together and lifting the hands.
As I worked on this guide, I had a minor epiphany: Giving this water ritual, urchatz, a prominent spot at the seder was a brilliant rabbinic move. The Passover story begins with a drought (lack of water) that brought the Israelites to Egypt, ends with the miraculous crossing of a sea (walls of water), and eventually leads us to a land described in Deuteronomy as having “streams of water, of springs and underground water bursting forth from valley and mountain.” Urchatz connects us to the water imagery of the Passover seder and both physically and spiritually prepares our hands to take hold of the parsley (or other vegetable) and taste the “Spring” that symbolizes this time of rebirth.
Now I look back on those months of frantic pandemic handwashing and feel gratitude. My disconnection not only helped me seek out new ways to approach a basic pre-eating ritual, but led me to appreciate something that was always right there in the seder but I had never truly bothered to appreciate. This year the number two ritual in the seder’s order is number one in my heart.
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When New York and Public Institutions Decide Which Hate Matters
A man walks a subway platform in New York City, United States, on Oct/ 25, 2022. Photo: Jakub Porzycki/NurPhoto via Reuters Connect
New York City is home to the largest Jewish population outside of Israel. For generations, Jews here have built schools, businesses, synagogues, and civic institutions with the assumption that this city, whatever its flaws, understands the cost of antisemitism.
That assumption feels less stable today.
The NYPD’s numbers are unambiguous. Jews remain the most targeted group in reported hate crimes in New York City. The volume is not symbolic. It is disproportionate and sustained. Yet beyond the statistics, there is a quieter shift taking place inside schools and workplaces. Antisemitism is not always denied. It is deprioritized.
I saw this pattern unfold inside my son’s school over the past two academic years.
On the night of October 7, 2023, as Israelis were still counting their dead after 1,200 people were murdered and more than 200 were kidnapped by Hamas, the school principal sent a message to families. The email expressed sorrow over the situation in Gaza. It did not mention the massacre in Israel. It did not acknowledge the Jewish families in the community who were grieving in real time.
That omission was not technical. It was moral. At a moment when Jews across the world were processing the largest slaughter of Jews since the Holocaust, the institutional expression of sympathy pointed elsewhere.
Throughout that same school year, a music teacher regularly wore a keffiyeh in class. In isolation, one could argue that clothing is personal expression. But context matters. This was happening in the immediate aftermath of October 7, when Jewish students were experiencing rising hostility across the city. During curriculum nights, parents had been told that students would learn songs connected to Jewish holidays as part of the music program. Those commitments were not fulfilled. Jewish content quietly disappeared while visible political symbolism remained present.
Concerns were raised. The response was to remain calm and avoid escalation.
Later that year, a fifth-grade student arrived at school with a swastika drawn on his arm. That symbol of genocide was present inside a New York City classroom. The matter was handled privately. There was no schoolwide reaffirmation of values, no public condemnation of the symbol, no communication to families explaining what had occurred and how it would be addressed. It was resolved behind closed doors.
Then came another incident. My son returned home disturbed by a flag displayed in class that closely resembled a Nazi symbol. I sent an urgent email requesting clarification. The following day, I was told it was an ancient Indian symbol. That explanation may have been historically accurate. But the issue was not intent. The issue was impact.
In a school community that includes descendants of Holocaust survivors, imagery resembling a swastika carries emotional weight. Children react before they research. I asked that the school address the matter openly and provide context to students so that confusion and hurt would not linger. The image was removed. There was no broader communication.
Weeks later, a racist remark targeting another minority group during a public meeting triggered an immediate and forceful response from leadership. Families received a strong statement. The language was clear. The commitment to accountability was public.
That response was appropriate. Racism demands clarity.
The contrast between responses is the issue.
When swastikas are handled quietly, when Jewish curriculum promises fade, when the murder of 1,200 Israelis is omitted from expressions of institutional sympathy, and when Jewish concerns receive polite acknowledgment without operational follow-through, a message accumulates. Antisemitism becomes something to manage discreetly rather than confront directly.
This pattern is not isolated to one school. Across New York, Jews who speak openly in support of Israel report professional and social consequences. Anti-Zionist rhetoric has become normalized in many institutional spaces. The distinction between anti-Zionism and antisemitism is often presented as clean and obvious. In practice, it rarely is.
When Jewish students see authority figures signaling affiliation with movements that openly question the legitimacy of the Jewish state, while Jewish identity is treated as politically sensitive or secondary, the environment shifts. Jewish belonging becomes conditional.
I say this not as an activist seeking attention, but as someone whose professional life is rooted in safety and resilience. I am the founder of Krav Maga Experts in New York City. I work daily with civilians, executives, and families on preparedness, threat awareness, and responsible self-defense. Over the past year, I have heard the same concern repeatedly: Jews feel that institutional standards are uneven.
Some advise restraint. They argue that raising Jewish concerns risks appearing divisive. They note the historical suffering of other communities and suggest that Jewish worries should be measured against broader narratives of oppression.
Equal standards do not require comparison. They require consistency.
If a racist act demands public condemnation in one instance, it demands the same in every instance. If a symbol that evokes trauma for one group requires explanation and restorative action, the same principle applies universally. Institutional credibility depends on even enforcement of values.
Antisemitism rarely announces itself with clarity. It adapts. It embeds itself in prevailing political language. It thrives in environments where moral hesitation replaces moral steadiness.
The solution is not complicated. Schools and workplaces should explicitly include antisemitism in their bias and inclusion frameworks. Crisis communications should acknowledge Jewish trauma when it occurs. Symbols with genocidal associations should be addressed transparently. Curriculum commitments should be honored without selective erosion.
New York’s Jewish community does not require special treatment. It requires principled treatment. Safety is not built on selective outrage. It is built on consistent standards applied without fear or favor.
The city that holds the largest Jewish population outside Israel should lead in moral clarity. That clarity begins with a simple rule: hate is hate, regardless of who it targets. When institutions decide which hate merits urgency and which can be handled quietly, they weaken the trust that holds diverse communities together.
Consistency is not a political position. It is a test of integrity.
Tsahi Shemesh is an Israeli-American IDF veteran and the founder of Krav Maga Experts in NYC. A father and educator, he writes about Jewish identity, resilience, moral courage, and the ethics of strength in a time of rising antisemitism.
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US Pulling Non-Essential Staff From Embassy in Beirut Amid Iran Tensions
A general view of a US State Department sign outside the US State Department building in Washington, DC, US, July 11, 2025. Photo: REUTERS/Annabelle Gordon
The State Department is pulling out non–essential government personnel and their eligible family members from the US embassy in Beirut, a senior State Department official said on Monday, amid growing concerns about the risk of a military conflict with Iran.
“We continuously assess the security environment, and based on our latest review, we determined it prudent to reduce our footprint to essential personnel,” said a senior State Department official, speaking on condition of anonymity.
“The Embassy remains operational with core staff in place. This is a temporary measure intended to ensure the safety of our personnel while maintaining our ability to operate and assist US citizens,” the official said.
A source at the US embassy said 50 people had been evacuated, while an official at Beirut airport said 32 embassy staff, along with family members, had flown out of Beirut airport on Monday.
The US has built up one of its biggest military deployments in the Middle East, with President Donald Trump warning on Thursday that “really bad things will happen” if no deal is reached to solve a longstanding dispute over Tehran’s nuclear program. Iran has threatened to strike American bases in the region if it is attacked.
“Should employees occupying emergency positions wish to depart post, please review alternative arrangements to fill the emergency position and consult with your regional bureau Executive Office as necessary,” said an internal State Department cable on the pullout, which was seen by Reuters.
The State Department on Monday updated its travel advisory for Lebanon, repeating its warning that US citizens should not travel to the country. Remaining embassy personnel are restricted from personal travel without advance permission and additional travel restrictions may be imposed “with little to no notice due to increased security issues or threats,” the advisory said.
American interests were repeatedly targeted in Lebanon in the 1980s during the 1975-90 civil war, during which the US held the Iran-backed Hezbollah responsible for attacks including the 1983 suicide bombing against the US Marines headquarters in Beirut, which killed 241 servicemen, and a 1983 suicide attack on the US embassy in Beirut that killed 49 embassy staff.
TALKS ON THURSDAY, DIVISIONS REMAIN
Meanwhile, US Secretary of State Marco Rubio, who is scheduled to travel to Israel on Saturday and meet with Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu, was still planning to do that, but “the schedule remains subject to change,” the US official said.
The United States wants Iran to give up its nuclear program, but Iran has adamantly refused and denied it is trying to develop an atomic weapon. Washington views enrichment inside Iran as a potential pathway to nuclear weapons.
Iranian Foreign Minister Abbas Araqchi said on Sunday that he expects to meet with Trump’s special envoy Steve Witkoff in Geneva on Thursday, adding that there was still “a good chance” of a diplomatic solution.
Both sides remain sharply divided – even over the scope and sequencing of relief from crippling US sanctions – following two rounds of talks, a senior Iranian official told Reuters.
Citing officials on both sides and diplomats across the Gulf and Europe, Reuters reported on Friday that Tehran and Washington are sliding rapidly toward military conflict as hopes fade for a diplomatic settlement.
On Sunday, Witkoff said the president was curious as to why Iran has not yet “capitulated” and agreed to curb its nuclear program.
It would be the second time the US and Israel have attacked Iran in less than a year, following US and Israeli airstrikes against military and nuclear facilities last June.
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Iranian Students Protest for Third Day as US Pressure Mounts
Protesters chant, ‘We’ll fight, we’ll die, we’ll reclaim Iran,’ at Al-Zahra University in Tehran, as they mark the 42nd day of mourning for those killed by the Iranian regime in recent anti-government protests. Photo: Screenshot taken Feb. 23, 2026, from social media video via Reuters Connect
Iranian students defied authorities with protests for a third day on Monday, weeks after security forces crushed mass unrest with thousands killed and as the United States weighs possible air strikes against the Islamic Republic.
State media outlets reported students chanting anti-government slogans at Tehran University, burning flags at the all-women al-Zahra University, and scuffles at Amir Kabir University, all located in the capital.
Reuters also verified video showing students at al-Zahra University chanting slogans including “we’ll reclaim Iran,” but was not able to confirm when it was recorded.
In a new sign of the mounting tension in the Middle East, the United States began pulling non-essential personnel and family members from the embassy in Beirut, a senior State Department official said.
US President Donald Trump has repeatedly threatened Iran since major nationwide protests across the country in January, saying on Thursday that “really bad things will happen” if talks between the countries fail to produce a deal.
Washington wants Iran to give up much of its nuclear program, which it believes is aimed at building a bomb, limit the range of its missiles to short distances, and stop supporting terrorist groups it backs in the Middle East.
It has built up forces across the Middle East, putting increased pressure on Iran as it weighs its response to US demands amid ongoing talks.
Iranian Supreme Leader Ayatollah Ali Khamenei already faces the gravest crisis of his 36-year tenure, with an economy struggling under the weight of international sanctions and growing unrest that broke out into major protests in January.
On Sunday Iranian President Masoud Pezeshkian said negotiations with the US had “yielded encouraging signals” even as a second US aircraft carrier headed towards the Middle East.
Trump has not laid out in detail his thinking on any possible Iran strike. A senior White House official told Reuters last week there was still no “unified support” within the administration to go ahead with an attack.