I Can No Longer Remain Silent

So many people far more eloquent than I have been expressing their deepest thoughts and feelings, so I have been holding back, hesitant to add my voice. But now I have to burst forth with my feelings because they are welling up in me, too raw to keep contained any longer.

The horror of it all strikes me with an unbearable force—the knowledge that six hostages, who could have been rescued, were brutally murdered just as they were about to be found. It's a reality that shatters my ability to comprehend. How can human beings, endowed with free will, choose such a hateful and cold-blooded path? This wasn't fate. This wasn't a divine decree that their lives were to end. It was a deliberate, calculated act of cruelty that goes beyond comprehension.

I've seen my friends and colleagues using the phrase "Baruch Dayan HaEmet," a traditional Jewish blessing said upon hearing of a death. It means, "Blessed is the true Judge." But every time I see it, I push back. This doesn't feel like a moment for that sentiment. This was not God deciding that six people had reached the end of their natural life spans. This was an example of human beings exercising their free will in a most hateful and brutal fashion, murdering people in cold blood who would otherwise have been found alive and rescued.

Meanwhile, in our country and around the world, people are being harrassed, assaulted, and even killed for the crime of simply being Jewish. Being Jewish does not equate to being Israeli. Being Israeli does not equate to being a staunch supporter of every action of their government. The world is far more complex than these dangerous conflations suggest.

For 331 days, I've cried, raged, marched, and cried again. I don't claim to have the perfect words, but I can't stay silent any longer. I want peace. I want peace that ensures the safe return of all remaining hostages, whether they are alive or dead. I want peace that allows Israel to exist securely, free from the constant threat to its survival. I want peace that brings food, medical care, and dignity to the people of Gaza, who are suffering unbearably. I want peace so that no mother or father, no husband or wife, need fear that their loved one might be killed in war at any time.

Elul starts tomorrow night. The High Holyday season is upon us. I know our communities are filled with diverse opinions and beliefs about this ongoing conflict. We must walk a delicate line in addressing these issues, ensuring that no one feels unwelcome in their own synagogue. This is a time for reflection, for compassion, and for a commitment to building a future where peace and justice prevail for all. All of us were made in the image of God. It’s time – far past time - to recognize that image in one another.