“I will sing to the Lord, for He has triumphed gloriously; horse and rider He has hurled into the sea.” (Exodus 15:1)
What just happened wasn’t just an airstrike. It wasn’t just another military operation.
It was a modern-day Song at the Sea.
Fordow — the crown jewel of Iran’s underground nuclear weapons program — has been reduced to rubble. Natanz and Isfahan too. And it happened not someday, not eventually, but now — in our days — under the leadership of Prime Minister Netanyahu and President Donald J. Trump, working in lockstep, shoulder to shoulder, as leaders of the free world.
This wasn’t symbolic. It was surgical. It was strategic. It was Biblical.
For years, Iran played the long game — smiling at diplomats by day, enriching uranium by night, funding terror across five borders and preaching genocide with impunity.
World leaders wagged fingers. Protesters marched “for peace.” Papers were signed.
But Fordow kept spinning. And the world kept sleeping.
No more.
With Operation Rising Lion, we witnessed what leadership looks like when it isn’t paralyzed by fear. We saw what it means to act — not after catastrophe, but to prevent one. We saw what it means when Israel says: Never again — and means it.
And we saw what it means to have an American president who doesn’t just support Israel, but stands with us in battle.
But here’s the part too many will miss: This is not just a military victory. It’s a spiritual one.
Because in Judaism, we don’t just defend ourselves — we thank God. Loudly. Publicly. With full hearts and full voices.
Noach, after surviving the Flood, built an altar and brought offerings of gratitude.
When the Sea split, we didn’t keep walking — we stopped to sing.
After we crossed the Jordan River into the Land, Yehoshua set up stones as a sign — so that future generations would remember that a miracle happened here.
When the Maccabees defeated the Greeks and reclaimed the Temple, we didn’t just resume life — we established Hanukkah, a festival to declare that victory itself is holy.
It has always been that way.
We don’t let salvation pass by quietly.
We mark it.
We name it.
We give thanks for it.
And today — right now — as three nuclear sites lie smoldering beneath Iranian soil, and the Jewish nation lives to see another sunrise, we must recognize this as a day worth remembering. Worth praising. Worth shouting about.
“This is the day the Lord has made; let us rejoice and be glad in it.” (Psalms 118:24)
Some will say: “Let’s wait. What if there’s retaliation?”
Let me be clear: Fordow is gone. And Hashem is not.
That’s not arrogance. That’s emunah. That’s faith grounded in 3,000 years of survival.
Our enemies come with rockets, proxies, and uranium.
We come with unity, clarity, and the God of Israel.
This victory doesn’t just belong to Israel. It belongs to every nation that values life over death, light over darkness, and truth over tyranny. The same God who delivered us from Pharaoh has delivered us again from the brink.
So yes — we lift our voices in thanks.
We look our children in the eyes and tell them: you are living through prophecy.
We call our friends, embrace our neighbors, and remind each other what a miracle looks like.
And we thank God — not in whispers, but in a roar that echoes from Jerusalem to the ends of the earth.
Because as Isaiah prophesied:
“Behold, God is my salvation; I will trust and not fear. For the Lord God is my strength and my song — and He has become my salvation.” (Isaiah 12:2)
From Fordow to freedom —
From fear to faith —
We sing because we win.
And we win because we don’t stop singing.