When the World Wears Masks, We Build Arks: What Parashat Noach and October 7 Teach Us About Jewish Strength
Words of Wisdom with Rabbi Efrat Zarren-Zohar
This Dvar Torah was written by Mark Kravitz, Chair of the Board of CAJE, a passionate advocate for Jewish learning, believing that education is the key to combating hate, strengthening Jewish identity, and deepening our connection to Israel. He also serves on the Executive Board of the Jewish Education Project and is a proud board member of the Greater Miami Jewish Federation as well as Beth Torah Congregation in North Miami Beach. Mark lives in South Florida with his husband, Jonathan, and their two children.
Photo by John Noonan on Unsplash
I went to Jewish day school from pre-kindergarten through high school — the kind where we sang Hatikvah before math, debated Torah before lunch, and learned to spell “chutzpah” before “committee.”
And every October, without fail, the famous Halloween memo would arrive —reminding families that Halloween was a pagan holiday and that Jewish kids should skip the costumes and candy.
At the time, it felt a little extreme.
What was so wrong with one night of fun — sugar, masks, and pretending to be someone else?
It took me years to understand that it wasn’t about the candy.
It was about the costume. About whether we wear our Jewishness like a mask — something we take on and off — or like a mission, something we live every day.
And that question — of identity, conviction, and courage — is at the heart of Parashat Noach.
As a proud graduate of the Scheck Hillel Community School, I gave my valedictorian address about Robert Frost’s poem “The Road Not Taken.”
At eighteen, I thought I was reflecting on my own direction — the kind of person I would become, the work I would do, the life I hoped to build.
But now, years later, I understand it differently.
Frost’s poem isn’t just about my path — it’s about our path: the collective journey of a people who have always chosen conviction over comfort and purpose over popularity.
Noach faced that same choice.
Everyone else drifted with the current; Noach built an ark.
Quietly. Faithfully. He didn’t take a poll or wait for consensus. He just kept building — plank by plank, purpose by purpose.
That’s what it means to take the road less traveled: to keep walking — and building — even when the world looks at you like you’re going the wrong way.
The Torah says the earth was filled with chamas — corruption and cruelty. And in many ways, we’ve seen those waters rise again.
Since October 7, the world has felt darker and more dangerous for Jews everywhere.
Antisemitism isn’t hiding anymore; it’s shouting.
We’re facing not only hatred but moral confusion — a flood of misinformation and selective empathy.
And once again, the Jewish response isn’t to drown in it — it’s to build and invest in Jewish education, our ark.
It’s our superpower — the quiet, enduring force that has carried our people through every storm.
In our classrooms, synagogues, and study circles, we teach our children that being Jewish isn’t a costume to wear when it’s convenient — it’s a calling to live with courage and compassion, wherever they are.
Every Hebrew lesson, every moral conversation, every spark of curiosity — these are the planks that hold our identity together. They are what keep us afloat when the world floods with noise.
Jewish education doesn’t just prepare us for the world as it is — it gives us the strength and vision to rebuild the world as it should be.
Since October 7, each of us — individually and collectively — has been forced to choose our path.
One path leads to fear and retreat — to silence and shrinking.
The other leads to pride and purpose — to deeper learning, stronger identity, and louder truth.
Noach chose the harder path, and it saved the world. Now it’s our turn.
Jewish education is how we build the next ark — one that carries not animals, but values; not blueprints, but belonging.
Looking back, I finally understand those childhood Halloween memos.
They weren’t really about ghosts and goblins. They were about grounding — about remembering who we are in a world that’s always trying to dress us as something else.
They were teaching us that Judaism isn’t about avoiding the world — it’s about refusing to lose ourselves in it.
Because when the world wears masks, we wear meaning.
And in this post–October 7 world — one that sometimes feels submerged in confusion — the path forward is the same one Noach took: to build, to teach, and to walk with faith even when the road is lonely.
It’s the road less traveled. And it’s the one that will make all the difference.
