How Long Can We Pretend This Isn’t Geulah?

“We’re still in galus.” It’s not a hidden belief—it’s an open declaration. Ask anyone in the Charedi world why we don’t serve in the army, why we don’t ascend Har HaBayis, why we don’t bring Korban Pesach, or move en masse to Eretz Yisrael. The answer will almost always trace back to this core assumption: we are still in golus. And from that belief flows an entire Halachic posture—one that sidelines the mitzvos that only apply when the Jewish people are functioning as a nation in their land.

But is it true?

Let’s look at the pattern.

Start with the draft. The Charedi position is that learning Torah is the greatest mitzvah, even greater than fighting in a war. Not only that, but the army presents spiritual dangers—exposure to secular influences, a potential weakening of religious commitment, and a lack of proper Halachic accommodations. Therefore, they argue, it’s simply not an option for the Charedi public.

Next, take the question of rebuilding the Beis HaMikdash. Here too, the position is that we can’t proceed due to a host of Halachic complications. We don’t know the precise location of the Mizbeach. There are concerns about tumah and taharah. It might be a matter of pikuach nefesh. We don’t have the proper vessels or the full knowledge of the Avodah. Each reason sounds serious in isolation.

Then comes Korban Pesach. Again, similar arguments arise—too many unresolved Halachic issues, too much risk of error, and a general sense that "the time just isn’t right." So even though bringing the Korban Pesach is a chiyuv de’oraysa, it too is indefinitely postponed.

And of course, there's the issue of Aliyah. Once again, the response is framed in Halachic and practical terms. Questions are raised about parnassah, about chinuch for the children, about the lack of established kehillos, about the secular nature of the government, and about the dangers and uncertainties of life in Eretz Yisrael. For many, these are enough to justify staying in chutz la’aretz indefinitely, even if that means never really considering whether Aliyah is a mitzvah that applies in our time.

And then there’s Techeiles. The pushback here is familiar: we’re not absolutely certain that this is the correct chilazon, the mesorah was lost, the process might not be exact. So the status quo remains—most people continue wearing plain white tzitzis, and the discussion never really advances. But the Sifri says explicitly that Techeiles was nignaz—hidden—until the time of the Geulah. It’s not just another detail; it’s a symbol of national renewal. Its return should be treated not with suspicion, but with awe.

And finally, there’s Aliyah to Har HaBayis. This one goes even further: not just hesitancy, but outright prohibition with fiery language. We’re warned of severe issurim, of spiritual danger, of kareis. Despite serious Halachic debate among contemporary poskim, the mainstream Charedi approach is not to weigh the opinions, but to shut down the conversation entirely. No nuance. No room for the possibility that the time has come. Just a categorical “assur.”

Here’s the point: All of these are mitzvos that become relevant when the Jewish people are functioning not just as individuals in galus, but as a nation in their land. A nation needs an army. A nation must build the Mikdash. A nation is commanded to bring Korban Pesach. A nation must return to its land. A nation that sees Techeiles return must ask why. A nation with access to Har HaBayis must ask whether it’s time to start building. These are not theoretical mitzvos. They are real, now.

The Charedi world doesn’t deny the pattern. It explains it. It justifies it. It says: we are still in galus—therefore none of these obligations apply. But here’s the question: if after 75 years of sovereignty, millions of Jews living in Eretz Yisrael, Torah flourishing across the land, and open miracles of protection and return—we’re still in galus, then what exactly would Geulah even look like?

Maybe it’s time to question not the Halachic reasoning, but the premise beneath it. Maybe “we’re still in galus” is not an axiom, but a mindset—one that made sense 70 years ago when everything was uncertain, but that today denies the clear hand of Hashem in our generation. And maybe clinging to that mindset, despite all we’ve witnessed, is no longer a form of faith—but a form of fear.

Because the Geulah doesn’t have to come with thunder and lightning. Chazal say that it may come slowly, through process, through history, through responsibility. And when it does, we don’t have the right to close our eyes and say “it’s not time.” We have the obligation to open them—and act accordingly.