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Behind me is Mount Vernon, the famous
house of George Washington. And today,
it's one of America's most visited
historic homes. But more than 200 years
ago, this wasn't just the home of George
Washington. It became the place where
one man made a decision that would
forever alter the course of world
history. Every year on the 4th of July,
Americans celebrate independence with
fireworks and parades. But I wonder how
many of us truly appreciate just how
revolutionary America really was.
Because for nearly 3,000 years, humanity
basically knew one form of government,
the rule of kings. Whether it was Parro
or Nuhanetszar or Alexander the Great,
or the Caesars, the Zars, the Sultans,
different languages, different
continents, different crowns, but always
the same idea. One man held the power
and everyone else lived at his mercy.
The king wasn't just the head of state.
He decided your future. He decided your
rights. He often decided your religion.
If the king hated Jews, then Jewish life
became almost impossible. If the king
tolerated Jews, then they survived at
his mercy. For almost all of history,
freedom wasn't a right. It was a favor
granted by whoever happened to be
sitting on the throne at the time. But
then came along a man named George
Washington. The Revolutionary War had
ended and against all odds, 13 tiny
little colonies had defeated the
greatest empire at the time on earth,
the British Empire. Washington was the
undisputed hero of the new nation. The
army adored him. The people trusted him.
If anyone in history had every excuse to
become king, it was George Washington.
Many people expected it, and some openly
encouraged it. There were even officers
who proposed establishing a full
American monarchy with Washington at its
king. No one would have stopped him. He
had the army. He had the popularity. He
had the opportunity. Why wouldn't he
become king? Yet. Instead, on December
23rd, 1783, in Annapolis, Maryland,
George Washington stood before the
Continental Congress, and voluntarily
resigned as commander-in-chief. The most
powerful man in America willingly laid
down his power, turned his back on the
throne that many expected him to claim
and returned here to Mount Vernon with
every intention of living the quiet life
of a farmer. People were shocked. King
George III of England reported to have
said that if Washington truly returned
to private life instead of making
himself king, he will be the greatest
man in the world. And he was right.
Washington returned here to Mount
Vernon, believing that his public life
was over. But greatness has a way of
calling humble people back. Nearly 6
years later, the nation came looking for
him. Not because he had campaigned for
power, not because he had demanded
authority, because he had proven that he
could be the one trusted with it. And on
April 30th, 1789, on the balcony of
Federal Hall in New York, George
Washington was inaugurated as the first
president of the United States. But even
then, he refused to embrace the
trappings of royalty. Congress seriously
debated giving him some grand royal
titles. Some proposed calling him his
royalty, his excellency, his highness,
the king of the United States.
Washington wanted none of it. The title
he chose was remarkably simple. He would
be referred to as Mr. President. And in
those two words, something radical enter
history. America would have no king, no
man born into power, no dynasty deciding
your future. There would be no ruler
whose will becomes your destiny. And
from that decision flowed something that
the Jewish people understood more deeply
than almost anyone in history. The
fragile miracle of living without a king
who controls your fate. In one moment of
history, a revolutionary idea was born
in this country and world. That power
does not belong to a king. It belongs to
law. And from that idea came something
almost unheard of in world history. A
land where Jews could finally live and
build and learn and serve Hashem without
asking permission from a crown. Now
imagine just for a moment if Washington
had chosen differently. If he had taken
the crown everyone expected him to take.
If America had become just another
kingdom in a long line of kingdoms, we
would likely be living in a very
different world. A world where freedom
is still something granted and revoked
by rulers. a world where Jewish life
might still depend on the mood of a
monarch. And in that sense, Washington's
greatness was not only what he built, it
was what he refused to become. He broke
the oldest pattern in human history. And
because he did, a door opened in the
world that has allowed us Jews to stand
here and serve Hashem with a level of
freedom our ancestors could have never
dreamed of in a million years. Ever
since that day, for nearly 250 years,
Jews in America have built yeshivas and
batimrashim and scholes and kaim and
schools and mcbboas and vibrant
communities on a scale our ancestors
could not have imagined in their wildest
dreams. Not because a king granted
permission, but because a nation chose
to enshrine freedom in its law and
protect it. And on July 4th, a day that
celebrates the birth of this country, it
is worth pausing with genuine gratitude,
not taking for granted the extraordinary
gift that we have been given. But as
powerful as July 4th is, it becomes even
more powerful when you place it against
the backdrop of Jewish history. For a
lot of Jewish history, the test was
simple but brutal. Could you stay loyal
to Hashem when the world made it seem
impossible? Egypt, Syria, Babylonia,
Greece, Rome, the Inquisition, Eastern
Europe, the Holocaust, different names,
same story. A world pushing down on
Jewish life from the outside. And the
test was, for the most part, the same.
Will you still remain a Jew when
everything around you pushes you not to?
But America created something almost
unrecognizable compared to that world.
Our test is not survival. Our test is
freedom. Our test is not serving Hashem
when it's hard. Our test is serving
Hashem when it's easy. When no one is
stopping you from learning, no one
stopping you from david, no one stopping
you from putting on fillin, when no
one's stopping you from keeping chabas,
when Jewish life is not hidden in
basement or whispered in exile, but it's
lived openly and freely and proudly.
That's not a small shift. That's a
historic reversal. Freedom is an
extraordinary gift. But freedom is also
dangerous because chains are easy to
recognize, but comfort is not. And once
the chains come off, once the pressure
disappears, once no one's forcing us to
choose, the danger is no longer that we
will be broken. The danger is that we
will become numb. The question is no
longer, "Can I serve Hashem?" The
question becomes, "Will I?" Fourth of
July for Jews is more than fireworks and
hot dogs. It's something deeper. It's
gratitude, but not naive gratitude. It's
appreciation, but also awareness.
Awareness that we are standing inside of
a miracle that we cannot afford to take
lightly. We are living in a country
where Jewish life is protected and not
persecuted. Where Tyra is not hidden,
but it's built. Where Hashem is not
worshiped in fear, but worshiped in
freedom. And that demands something from
us. Not just to thank Hashem for the
gift, but to realize that the gift is
also a test. A test to see how well we
serve Hashem in comfort. A test to see
if freedom to us becomes the finish line
or the starting point. Our ancestors
fought to serve Hashem under pressure.
And we are being asked to serve him
without pressure. And that may be the
biggest test of all. The question every
fourth of July asks of Jews is, "What
will you do in a world where nothing is
stopping you from becoming who you're
meant to become?" History used to ask
Jews, "Can you survive without freedom?"
America now asks us, "Can you remain
faithful with it?" How we answer that
question will decide everything. Happy
4th of July.