There’s a phenomenon we’ve been calling the “great Jewish awakening” that emerged after Oct. 7. We watched it unfold abroad, the surge in Jewish pride, the renewed interest in traditions, and the conversations about faith and identity. We saw this clearly at Aish, as in the months following Oct. 7, our daily video views increased dramatically from around one million per day to over 1.7 million. Our social media following expanded by over 750,000 followers across our channels, and our engagements on social media increased by 128%. 

While the statistics told a story, the personal testimonials we received from Jewish people who reached out from around the globe revealed the deeper truth, that something profound was stirring within the global Jewish community.

But here’s the revelation that continues to move me deeply. This same awakening is happening right here in Israel. For many, it may seem counterintuitive. Israel is where Jewishness is embedded in the national fabric, where Hebrew fills the streets, and where the calendar follows Jewish holidays. Yet a significant portion of Israeli society maintains a distance from religious practice and tradition. There are Israelis who have lived their entire lives without visiting Jerusalem or touching the stones of the Western Wall.

Then, after Oct. 7, something fundamental shifted in the collective consciousness. The invisible boundaries between “secular” and “religious” began to dissolve as people sought meaning, connection, and spiritual grounding amid profound national trauma. People realized that one’s Jewish identity is never static, even in the Jewish homeland.

Jewish woman praying for at the Western Wall in the Old City of Jerusalem on October 1, 2016.
Jewish woman praying for at the Western Wall in the Old City of Jerusalem on October 1, 2016. (credit: FLASH90)

A thirst for spirituality in Israel

Today, if you visit Tel Aviv, the long-time symbol of secular Israeli culture, you’ll see synagogues filled with young people. Prior to the High Holy Days, throngs of teenagers attended selihot prayers. That trend has continued, along with Shabbat attendance and an overall rise in observance. This isn’t happening because of social pressure or obligation. It comes from a genuine, spiritual thirst-based search.

Tair Golan, known as “the TikTok Rebbetzin,” a former model who now covers her hair and teaches young secular Israeli women about spirituality, has classes that overflow with attendees in person and online. In Tel Aviv, this represents a huge cultural transformation.

POPULAR ISRAELI music has also begun reflecting this spiritual renaissance. Ben Tzur’s “Thirsty Souls,” a song about honestly searching for connection to God and looking for protection from above, while not being overly religious, captures the essence of this moment. Osher Cohen’s lyrics in “Where Are You?” discuss existential questions that many young people are now asking openly.

Research from Reichman University in Herzliya confirms what we’re witnessing. Thirty-seven percent of young Israelis between the ages of 15 and 18 are turning to religion for healing, strength, and belonging. These young people, who grew up during COVID lockdowns and have been facing the realities of Israel’s longest and most difficult war spanning more than two years of their childhood, are searching for something enduring amid uncertainty.

What moves me most deeply are the stories of returned hostages reconnecting with faith traditions. Twin brothers Gali and Ziv Berman, upon returning from two years of Hamas captivity, put on tefillin for the first time since their bar mitzvah. Keith Siegel openly stated that he began reciting the “Shema” prayer and blessings over his rations while in captivity. Bar Kupershtein spoke of how he kept Shabbat as much as he could in captivity and even made “Kiddush” over water. These testimonies reveal how crises have become catalysts for spiritual awakening.

Pop culture researcher Sigalit Banai offered a perspective that resonates with many parents. During an interview with Channel 11 news , she said: “As long as it isn’t scrolling on phones or turning to alcohol or drugs, I’m all for going with my daughter to selihot prayers!”

I, for one, hope that this trend isn’t fleeting. According to Banai, “These youngsters, while they were growing up in elementary schools, were under lockdowns during the COVID epidemic, then came the war, which was a difficult war that lasted for two years. Many fears were awakened, and there is a need for a sense of belonging, returning, and standing together.”

The same great Jewish awakening we witnessed abroad is unfolding right here in the Jewish homeland, proving that sometimes, the greatest spiritual journeys happen in familiar places seen with new eyes.

In all my years of working with Aish, I’ve never seen anything quite like this moment. It’s as if what we’ve been nurturing globally is now flourishing in the very soil where these traditions first took root. The circle is complete, but the journey is just beginning.

In these deeply unsettled times, this reconnection to tradition, community, faith, and one another is exactly the source of strength and healing our people need most.

But here’s the thing: We can’t just sit back and watch this awakening unfold. We must actively participate in nurturing it. This is my call to you today: “Be the invitation. Be the bridge.”

If you see that teenager wearing a new pair of tzitzit under his T-shirt without a kippah, ask him what inspired the change. If your children mention friends who suddenly want to light Shabbat candles, invite them and their families to join your family for Friday night dinner. Make a connection. If you hear someone on the bus humming Ben Tzur’s song “Thirsty Souls,” start a conversation about what the lyrics mean to him or her.

Don’t wait for people to find their way alone. Reach out your hand. Open your home. Share your Shabbat table. Offer to accompany someone to Jerusalem who has never been there. Bring a friend to the Western Wall who has never touched its stones – and be sure to stop by AISH when you do.

The yearning among our younger generation is already there, but the path isn’t always clear. Be the one who says, “Let’s explore this together.”

By doing so, you offer them permission to become part of something much bigger than themselves. No matter how much or how little you know about Judaism, be a guide, or at least be willing to go on a journey of exploration together.

Judaism, more than anything else, is a family. We need to take responsibility for our brothers and sisters who are searching, and become active participants in the great Jewish awakening. This is one of the most profound spiritual moments of our generation.

The door is open. The souls are thirsty. Now it’s up to us to extend the invitation. 

The writer is chief communications officer (CCO) and global spokesperson for Aish, following a career as a producer and marketing executive with HBO, CNN, and Food Network. She is also an eight-time bestselling cookbook author. In the past six months, she has been invited to testify three times before the Knesset Committee for Immigration, Absorption, and Diaspora Affairs regarding global antisemitism and educational solutions.