Jonathan Greenblatt

The first time I sat at my wife’s family’s Rosh Hashanah table, I expected to see the apples and honey, but what I didn’t expect was a fish head. It was a tradition that was as foreign to me as it was ancient.
My wife’s family is Persian. Like many Persian Jews and Jews from other corners of the Diaspora, they mark the holiday with a Rosh Hashanah seder: a sequence of symbolic foods, each paired with a prayer for the year ahead. Rituals with roots that span centuries and traverse continents.
I had never seen anything like it. That meal with my wife’s family was a vivid reminder that the diversity of Jewish tradition is one of our greatest strengths. Our heritage is not monolithic; it is a tapestry, embroidered over millennia by communities across the globe.
This time of year, those traditions call us to reflect, not only on where we have been, but on where we are going.
At ADL, every day I see the urgency of defending the Jewish people. The reality can be grim: rising antisemitic incidents, harassment on campus, the relentless tide of online hate. It is depressing, maddening and heartbreaking. The threats are real, and vigilance is not optional. But I believe that the best self-defense is built on something deeper: self-literacy, self-knowledge and self-awareness.
Because Jewish life is not only something to guard but also something to live in relationship with. Our heritage isn’t just an inheritance to be locked away for safekeeping; it’s a dialogue between past and present, between God and people, between Jews across the ages.
To know ourselves as Jews is to enter that relationship intentionally: to study, to question, to celebrate, to wrestle. That’s how tradition comes alive, not only in how we protect it but also in how we engage it.
Because what good is it to defend the Jewish people if we aren’t also deeply connected to what makes our heritage worth defending?
At ADL, we spend so much time engaged in the very necessary practice of Jewish defense — defending against antisemitism, defending Israel’s right to exist, defending our place at every table. It’s time to shift to Jewish offense. We need to give people reasons not just to survive as Jews, but to thrive as Jews.
If your connection to Jewish life is purely cultural, go deeper into that culture in a meaningful way. Torah is part of that culture. Hebrew is part of that culture. Prayer and ritual are part of that culture. If social justice is your path, then study what Jewish tradition actually teaches about justice. Learn about the great debates. Enrich yourself in our history and texts. If your passion is the Jewish state, then learn about it, travel there, understand its complexity. If you’re intrigued by other Jewish cultures, make the effort to explore them. Visit their synagogues, learn their melodies, taste their holiday foods and hear their stories.
In other words, whatever your entry point, enrich yourself in it. Don’t let your Jewish identity be defined solely by the acts of our enemies such as antisemitism or the Holocaust. Let’s define our identity ourselves based on who we are and what we love.
That search for depth is, at its core, about finding your “why.” Hersh Goldberg-Polin, z”l, murdered in Hamas captivity after being kidnapped on Oct. 7, understood this in a way that is both inspiring and heartbreaking. While in captivity, Hersh told a fellow hostage a line from Holocaust survivor Viktor Frankl, “He who has a why, will find the how.” For Hersh, that “why” was the people he loved, the hope that anchored him through unthinkable suffering. His words gave others the strength to endure as well.
Knowing your why fuels resilience. It transforms endurance into purpose. It’s what shows us how to move from holding the line to building the future.
For me, the why is my Jewish identity, which grounds how I continue this fight day after day. For me, that identity is rooted first and foremost in a profound love for the Jewish people. That love has guided my path, from cherishing the memories of my grandparents and building new traditions with my own family to ultimately joining ADL as another way to stand with and for our community. To be clear, I believe Torah matters. I relish Shabbat each and every week. At the same time, my connection isn’t expressed only through ritual observance or Limmud. It’s expressed in the work: showing up for Jewish students who feel alone on campus, pushing back against extremists who traffic in antisemitism, building coalitions that strengthen our community’s future.
That’s what grounds me, and that’s what keeps me going.
Last December, in a conversation at Temple Emanu-El, my friend Bret Stephens of The New York Times shared similar advice: “Get 10% ‘Jewier,’” he advised. “Wherever you are [in your practice], add 10%.”
I agree with Bret. However you choose to do it — through prayer, study, travel, family, or tradition — make that choice intentional. But make the choice.
For some people, deep meaning this holiday season will come from standing in synagogue. Others will get it from studying Torah or Talmud. Some will find it in the food traditions, the family gatherings, simply being together. But whatever it is, root it in a “why.”
More Jews being more in touch with who we are benefits everyone. It strengthens us. It inspires the next generation. It ensures our story is not just preserved but lived.
Indeed, living a thoroughly Jewish life is the best resistance against those who wish to defeat us. It is a defense that can endure any assault. It is a shield that can withstand any blow.
Shanah tovah u’metukah. May this coming year be one of purpose, pride and renewed connection. Let us honor Hersh by finding our why and summoning the courage to live it.
Jonathan A. Greenblatt is CEO and national director of the Anti-Defamation League.



