Finding Hope in a World of Change: Lessons from Jewish Resilience

Reading the newspaper recently, I was reminded of a line from Lily Tomlin’s 1985 one-woman stage show, The Search for Signs of Intelligent Life in the Universe. After reciting a litany of anxieties, she says: “I worry no matter how cynical you turn into, it’s never enough to keep up.”

The world is changing in unpredictable – or predictably discouraging – ways, so some cynicism feels warranted. While people often ask for optimism, I don’t inherently believe things will turn out well. Instead, I locate hope in the best aspects of humanity: courage, creativity, adaptability, and a willingness to persevere without knowing the outcome. I don’t hope for a world without harm, as history demonstrates that’s unrealistic. But I do hope for our collective ability to limit and withstand harm, emerging with something of value intact.

The Resilience of the Jewish People

Our long survival as a Jewish people may offer guidance. One account attributes this resilience to the accomplishments of the ancient rabbis, who responded to the destruction of the Second Temple in 70 CE with a wave of innovation. They transformed a land-bound Israelite nation into a portable Jewish people, replacing Temple sacrifices with communal prayer, pilgrimages with home ritual, and the Temple itself with the synagogue [The Search for Signs of Intelligent Life in the Universe]. This adaptation proved successful, allowing Judaism to endure.

Still, in today’s world – reshaped by shifting global orders, challenges to democratic norms, environmental concerns, resurfacing hatreds, and the marginalization of the vulnerable – this story of rabbinic revival feels insufficient. It can elevate the uniqueness of those rabbis and portray a process of incremental grassroots change as a triumphant tale of leadership.

Embracing Dynamic Change

The rabbis didn’t operate in a vacuum. Jewish prayer was already a custom centuries before the Roman conquest, and synagogues already existed. The sages of the Talmud weren’t starting from scratch; they were legislating within an existing context, documenting changes already underway. Their brilliance lay in embracing those changes and integrating them into Jewish life.

This understanding can be helpful now. Perhaps it encourages us to inquire not just about survival, but about how to embrace the ongoing dynamism of change and bring our humanity to it.

The “Longitudinal Now”

I’ve committed to focusing not on the future for salvation, but on the present moment. I’d like to refine that thought further: to commit not only to the now, but to the “longitudinal now” – the unfolding process of past transforming into future.

Rabbi Zalman Schachter-Shalomi developed a framework for Jewish ritual change called “integral halakhah.” He asked what principles and values should inform changes to Jewish practices. He suggested “backward compatibility” – maintaining a conversation with ancestral practices – and, borrowing from Native American culture, considering whether practices would strengthen Judaism seven generations into the future [The Search for Signs of Intelligent Life in the Universe].

Being intentionally held between past and future is the unfolding now I want to be part of. Instead of being isolated in a snapshot of time, I want to rally my values, lineages, and allegiance to those who will come after, bringing all of this to the inevitable process of change.

A Legacy of Adaptation

A dynamic relationship with the unfolding now has been key to Jewish survival through millennia of restrictions, banishments, and massacres. A capacity for real-time adaptation and forward motion has carried Jews across mountains and seas, resulting in incredible diversity – Ashkenazi and Sephardi, Hasidic and Reform, feminist and queer, secular and atheist – all flowing from a shared source. We have survived with scars, but also with poetry, music, language, cuisines, in-jokes, and beautiful prayers and practices.

This is what I want for all of us – Jews and everyone else – to survive the terrible and flourish through it. To be present in the unfolding now, responding to the needs of the moment while remembering where we came from and imagining the world we are leaving for others. To lean into it all with dignity, beauty, and care.

Perhaps this is the true invitation of the Shehecheyanu blessing – not just recognizing the holy in a particular moment, but seeing the holiness in our ongoing partnership with time and change. Blessed is the One who invites us into the ongoing, unfolding now.

This article initially appeared in My Jewish Learning’s Shabbat newsletter Recharge on February 21, 2026. To sign up to receive Recharge each week in your inbox, click here.