Over the past few weeks, we welcomed two yeshiva students to South Dakota. They spent time visiting communities across the state and led Shabbat services in Sioux Falls. Like the words of the prophet describing G-d saying, "I will gather you by the hand," the yeshiva students drove over six hours just to meet one Jew, and went from home to home, meeting people where they were, engaging them in Jewish discussion, Torah study, tefillin, and mezuzah.
During their travels, Levi and Leibel had many great experiences and gained a deeper appreciation for Jewish life in rural communities. But the most meaningful moment happened one evening as they were walking down the street in Sioux Falls. All of a sudden, a man ran out of a spa and came up to them. He introduced himself as Shir and was in disbelief. He was shocked to see Jews.
With a mixture of excitement and amazement, he told the yeshiva students that he had moved from Israel to Sioux Falls several months earlier. He was not particularly religious, so when he moved to town he didn't feel the need to reach out or get involved with the local Jewish community. He told them he didn't even know there were Jews in town. It never crossed his mind to look. But he said he had recently been feeling lonely and out of place, though he couldn't really figure out why.
Then, as he was standing in the spa, he saw them through the window, dressed in their Jewish clothing, wearing kippot and tzitzit. He couldn't believe his eyes, so he rushed out to say hello.
After engaging in a lengthy conversion, the two yeshiva students invited him to Chabad for Shabbat services that week. Shir told Levi and Leibel that it would be his first Shabbat service in many years, and his first kiddush and hamotzi since coming to South Dakota. But he felt he wanted to do it.
Following the services, amid the joy of the kiddush and the embrace of the community, Shir asked if he could share a few words. He spoke about how he had never felt as at home as he did now. In Sioux Falls, of all places, he had decided that he wanted to become more involved in Yiddishkeit and reconnect with his faith and traditions.
This week we read the second haftarah of consolation. It begins with the prophet Isaiah describing how the Jewish people say, "The L-rd has forsaken me, and the L-rd has forgotten me," to which G-d replies that He will never forget us: "Can a woman forget her baby, or disown the child of her womb? Though she might forget, I never could forget you."
This fellow may have temporarily forgotten his people, but his people did not forget him. And no matter what, G-d will certainly not forget any of us. As the verse describes G-d saying, “I never could forget you,” and, “It will be on that day that you shall be gathered one by one, O children of Israel.”

This Shabbat coincides with the Fourth of July as America marks its 250th year. 

There is an old story about ships arriving at Ellis Island. Some Jewish immigrants, believing that success in America required leaving the old ways behind, would symbolically throw their tallis and tefillin overboard before docking. Whether literally true or not, the story captures a mindset that many immigrants shared: what was important for Jewish life in the "Old World" was no longer needed in America. Maybe it was even a burden. 

But when Rabbi Yosef Yitzchak Schneersohn arrived on America's shores in 1940, he famously declared, "America iz nit andersh." America is no different. 
He meant that there is no reason to compromise authentic Jewish life here. If our parents and grandparents could remain faithful under persecution, then surely we can remain faithful in a country that guarantees religious liberty and opportunity. That same day he established a yeshiva.  

The Rebbe explained that compromising one's faith and traditions was not only unnecessary, but actually contrary to the ideals that make America great. In writing about public menorah lightings, he said they gave many Jews “a sense of pride in their Yiddishkeit... and the realization that there is no reason, really, in this free country, to hide one’s Jewishness.” On the contrary, he wrote, living openly as a Jew is entirely consistent with America's ideal of E Pluribus Unum, where people of different faiths and backgrounds contribute to the strength of the nation.

Alongside this message, the Rebbe emphasized gratitude for the blessings America has given the Jewish people. He would quote the prophet Jeremiah’s instruction that we: “Seek the welfare of the place in which you live... for in its peace you shall have peace.” 

While this applies wherever Jews live, it carries particular meaning in America, a country that has given us so much. The Rebbe often spoke about what this country had done for him and his family. He expressed deep personal gratitude that America had provided refuge from both Stalin and Hitler. It also enabled his father-in-law to reestablish the Chabad-Lubavitch movement on these shores, from where he would grow into a global movement serving the Jewish people and humanity.

One of America's greatest strengths is that its founding recognized the Creator. As our currency reminds us, "In G-d We Trust." Freedom is one of life's greatest blessings, but freedom without moral responsibility cannot sustain a society. As a free people, we must recognize that our rights and responsibilities come from the Divine Creator. 

Trust in G-d and a spirit of gratitude are two of the foundations that have sustained America's blessings. If we strengthen our trust in G-d and never lose our gratitude for Him and for the freedoms He has granted us, we can help ensure that those blessings continue for generations to come.
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So as we celebrate Independence Day this week, let us thank Hashem for the blessings of America, pray for its continued peace and prosperity, and use the freedoms we enjoy not just for our personal quality of life, but for the good of others as well, to build stronger Jewish homes, raise proud Jewish children, and live openly and faithfully as Jews. That’s how we show that today, just as the Frierdiker Rebbe said in 1940, “America iz nit andersh.”