10/01/2026
Yaniv the plumber, Simchat Torah and the survival of the Jewish people
There are moments in life when a person is given no time to process what has happened. There is no opportunity to sit down, absorb the shock, ask why, or even fully understand the danger. There is simply a responsibility that has to be carried out. Sometimes, lives depend on our ability to move beyond pure shock and simply act.
Yaniv, a plumber by profession who found himself in the cockpit of a hijacked plane, faced precisely such a moment. He was not prepared for the situation. He was not expecting to become the person responsible for saving the lives of 174 passengers. Yet suddenly, circumstances demanded that he act.
A hijacking is almost unimaginable. The fear, confusion, and disbelief would be overwhelming for anyone. One of the two pilots on the plane, who flew as passengers, was too shocked to immediately take control and pilot the hijacked aircraft. That reaction is understandable. Shock can paralyze a person. It can make the mind struggle to comprehend what is happening. But the plane could not wait for everyone to recover emotionally. There were 174 people on board whose lives depended on someone actually taking responsibility.
And that is where Yaniv’s story becomes more than a story about aviation. It becomes a powerful lesson about Jewish resilience,responsibility and survival.
Yaniv was a plumber. He was not necessarily the person anyone would have expected to become the hero of such a defining moment. Yet perhaps that is precisely the point. Heroism does not always announce itself beforehand. Sometimes a person discovers what he is capable of only when the circumstance demands immediate action.
There is a profound Jewish idea contained in the rhythm of Simchat Torah. On Simchat Torah, we celebrate the completion of the Torah. We reach the final words of Devarim, and there is a natural temptation to pause. After all we have finished something enormous. We have spent a year and countless hours studying the weekly Torah portion, it’s time for a break.
But Judaism does something remarkable. We do not remain at the end. Almost immediately, we begin again. We finish the Torah and return to Bereish*t - to the very beginning. There is no long pause between completion and renewal. The final words lead us back to the first words we began one full year ago. The message is that finishing is not really the end. Every conclusion contains the beginning of the next responsibility.
This is one of the deepest lessons of Jewish life: we do not have the luxury of remaining in the moment, crippled by fear, even when the moment is so overwhelming.
There are times when we celebrate, and there are times when we grieve. There are times when we are frightened, confused, or shocked. But eventually, the question comes: What must I do now?
The lesson of Simchat Torah is not that we should ignore our emotions. Shock is real. Fear is real. Grief is real. Rather, it teaches us that emotions cannot always be allowed to determine our actions. There are moments when responsibility calls louder than fear.
Yaniv did not have the luxury of standing back and saying, “This is impossible. I am a plumber. Someone else should handle this.” There were 174 passengers. The situation demanded action. Whatever fear he may have experienced, there was a much greater obligation that demanded an immediate response.
That is the extraordinary lesson: sometimes we discover our strength only after we have already been called upon to use it. It’s implanted in our DNA, after all how else has the Jewish people miraculously survived?
The Torah itself teaches us to keep moving. We finish, and we begin again. We reach the end, and immediately we return to the beginning. Why? Because the world still needs us. There is always another mitzvah, another person to help, another challenge to confront, another responsibility waiting to be carried.
This is particularly meaningful in moments of crisis. It is natural to become overwhelmed by what has happened. We want to stop and understand it. We want time to recover. But sometimes the needs of others do not allow us that time.
The message is not “do not feel.” The message is “do not let feeling prevent you from acting when action is needed.”
Yaniv’s story captures that idea in a striking way. A man who began the day as a plumber found himself facing a responsibility far beyond anything he could have possibly anticipated. He had no time to be the person he had been five minutes earlier. The circumstances demanded that he become the person the moment needed.
That is also the lesson of Simchat Torah. We finish the Torah — and immediately we begin Bereish*t. No long pause. No opportunity to say, “We have already done enough.”
We immediately begin again because the story is not finished. The world is not finished. Our responsibility is not finished. Our precious act will make the world of difference.
There will always be moments when we are shocked by what happens around us. There will be moments when fear tells us to stop. But Jewish tradition gives us another voice: keep going. Begin again. Take responsibility to leap, plunge and charge forward.
Because the world needs people who are willing to act. And sometimes, like Yaniv, we discover that we are those very people who can make the most profound difference. Our just one mitzva will tip the scales and bring Moshiach once and for all.
