A night of substance in a world of noise

Yesterday in Jerusalem, inside the President's House, I witnessed one of the most moving ceremonies I can remember. 

President Isaac Herzog presented the Israeli Presidential Medal of Honor to a remarkable group of people whose actions, courage, and generosity have strengthened the soul of Israel.

Among the guests were recently freed hostages. Their quiet presence said more than speeches. It reminded everyone in the room that Israel's story is written in endurance as much as achievement.

I was invited by my friend Mathias Döpfner, one of the honorees. Watching him receive the medal felt personal. For years he has been an unflinching voice against antisemitism and a steadfast ally of Israel when silence would have been easier. Seeing that courage recognized in Jerusalem mattered.

Another moment moved me deeply. Dr. Miriam Adelson received the medal. She is a physician who devoted her life to addiction treatment, a philanthropist who directs resources where they save lives, and a public figure who defends Israel without fear. Call things by their names. She is a true Israeli hero.

I want to say something personal. I was very close to Sheldon for thirty-five years. We did many things together. I loved the man for who he was. 

Direct, generous, fearless in his love for Israel and for the Jewish people. Seeing Miriam honored felt like seeing his legacy honored too. She carries that strength with grace. Last night, the room felt their partnership still alive in service to this country.

President Isaac Herzog and his wife, Michal, are an exceptional couple in a hard season for Israel. Dignity, empathy, moral clarity. They listen, they honor, they hold the center when politics tries to tear it apart. That spirit shaped the entire evening.

This year's honorees formed a living mosaic of Israel and its friends.

Academia, law, literature, memory, technology, faith, culture, philanthropy.

It was not a checklist. It was a portrait of service.

Ceremonies can be empty. This one was not. In a time of grief and division, an evening of honor is not decoration. It is maintenance for the national soul. It tells our children what we value and what we expect of them.

Gratitude is not weakness. It is a civic practice.

To Mathias, Mazal Tov. To Miriam, Todah. To every honoree, respect. Last night was emotional because it was honest. In a world that rewards noise, Israel chose to reward substance. That is the country I believe in.