2024 Yom Kippur Morning

The rabbi was called upon to settle a dispute between two congregants. The first entered the rabbi’s study and poured out complaint after complaint. He had facts and figures, historical precedents, and a long list of grievances. When he was finished, the rabbi looked at him and he said, You are right.

A few hours later, the second congregant walked in. Similarly, he went on and on about the ways that he was wronged, listing his grievances and providing his own set of facts, dates, and justifications. He, too, made a compelling case, and when he was finished the rabbi said, You are right.

Later that evening, the rabbi was telling his wife about what happened. After hearing about these two encounters, his wife looked at him incredulously and said, What did you do? Surely you know that they both can’t be right.

The rabbi said, You are right.

This is the story of the Israeli-Palestinian conflict.

Benny Morris wrote a comprehensive history of the Israeli-Palestinian struggle. The title of the book is Righteous Victims. As he wrote then, and as we are experiencing now, both sides are righteous victims; both have suffered horribly in this seemingly never-ending conflict. Just a few months ago, when there was still hope of bringing Hersh Goldberg-Polin home, Hersh’s parents shared a similar sentiment: There is a surplus of agony on all sides of the tragic conflict in the Middle East. In a competition of pain, there are no winners.

We are all righteous victims, but all involved continue to trap ourselves beneath quotes and statements and chants and memes and Facebook posts and T-shirts and billboards that tell the world that we are right. The former poet laureate of Israel, Yehuda Amichai, had something to say about “being right,” specifically in the context of the Middle East:

From the place where we are right
flowers will never grow
in the spring.
The place where we are right
is hard and trampled
like a yard.
But doubts and loves
dig up the world
like a mole,
a plow.
And a whisper will be heard
In the place where we are right.

During last year’s CCAR conference in Philadelphia, one of the sessions involved small group conversations about 10/7 and its aftermath. At that point, it had been 155 days since over 250 innocent people were taken by Hamas as hostages.

All of us were horrified at Hamas actions on 10/7. But there has been a divide, a serious divide, in the Jewish community as to who is right, after October 7. This divide exists in the Jewish community, amongst my rabbinic colleagues, and in our congregation.

After heated argument back and forth, a colleague got our attention:

Look, I am Jewish. I am not neutral … Israel is my family.

The truth is, none of us are objective or non-biased when it comes to Israel, because none of us can be; we’re too emotionally involved. We are B’nei Yisrael.

With all of that in mind, I want to share some of my thoughts and opinions on this ongoing war. We will not all agree on everything, and that is ok. We don’t need to see eye to eye in order to walk hand in hand.

On October 7, a day when Jews celebrated their identity as Jews, Hamas took pleasure in the unmitigated murder, rape and torture of over 1250 citizens. Many of those killed were at a concert that celebrated peace and diversity. Ironically, many of them worked to improve the rights of Palestinians. Hamas took similar pleasure in kidnapping and torturing over 250 people. I am aghast that this is seen by the world as political resistance. It is terrorism.

Many people have died in Gaza since October 7, and that is an absolute tragedy, full stop. I have seen videos in Gaza of orphaned children and families decimated, neighborhoods completely bulldozed to the ground … What I have not seen, however, are Jews celebrating their deaths in anything close to the manner that Hamas celebrates the deaths of October 7.

I think time and again of this quote by Prime Minister Golda Meir: Peace will come when they love their children more than they hate us.

A political dispute implies a political solution. Israelis have been open to a solution, and even now, one year later, are still open to a solution. But the only solution that Hamas will be satisfied with is the Final Solution. Hamas’s very existence is predicated on the precept that Israel is wiped off the face of the Earth.

Since October 7, many have felt hurt and betrayed by some former partners and friends. In the past, we have stood with friends on a variety of issues: Black Lives Matter, the MeToo movement, and gay rights, to name a few. But now, in our need for support and solidarity, we feel like we stand alone.

Our ancestors knew that being Jewish would always be difficult. Even though we are now accepted into golf clubs and colleges and professional careers, there is yet still a feeling of separation. Perhaps this is why the Talmud teaches Kol Yisrael aravim zeh bah zeh, all of Israel is responsible for one another, rather than the more universal ideal of Kol haolam aravim zeh bah zeh, all the world is responsible for one another … History has shown us, time and again, that when it comes to the Jewish people, we must heed Hillel’s words: If I am not for myself, who will be for me?

A personal story:

The first year of rabbinical school is spent in Israel. I lived there from 1999 to 2000. My most powerful moment came not in a classroom but on a kibbutz.

My parents visited me along with several other families from South Florida. We called ourselves the Mishpacha, the family. It was an informal Chavura made up of families from our home synagogue, and I took some time away from school to tour the country with them.

We visited the Kibbutz where one of our members grew up. We walked in and there were cheers and songs and drinks - it was quite the spectacle. And I followed the throng of people downstairs to a special room, and everyone immediately got quiet. We were in the memorial room. Surrounding us were pictures of young boys and girls from that Kibbutz who died, fighting for Israel’s freedom.

Every Kibbutz has such a room. Every high school has such a room. Every person in Israel knows someone who has died in a terrorist attack or in a war.

This reality is not new; it didn’t start in 1948 when Israel was founded. For thousands of years, Jews have died for being Jews.

Then, in the middle of the 20th century, 6 million Jews were intentionally murdered in the Holocaust.

I need Israel to exist.

This is my definition of Zionism: I believe that Israel has the right to exist as a nation, grounded in the Jewish people’s right to self-determination and national sovereignty. This doesn’t mean that I support the settler movement. It also doesn’t mean that I believe Palestinians are treated fairly by the government. I believe that it is fair, important, and even necessary to criticize some of Israel’s actions. I stand with Israel, but that does not mean that I don’t care about the rights of Palestinians.

When someone calls Zionism a colonial enterprise, or equates Israel’s actions with genocide, or agrees with chants of from the River to the Sea, I don’t feel safe.

I want to talk about another of the words in our vocabulary abyss - genocide. Genocide is the systematic eradication of a people BECAUSE they are that people. We can (and should) talk about the tragedy of thousands dying in Gaza, but it is not an example of genocide.

I have no solutions. I am not a politician, a policy maker, a war strategist, or a diplomat. I am a Jew that loves Israel and its people, and a human that wants peace in the region.

In the mountains of Colorado, there is a vast forest of what appears to be thousands upon thousands of quaking aspen trees. I say what appears to be, because in fact, these trees are actually a single living organism; the entire forest in Kebler Pass is the largest living single organism in the world.

Like these trees, Palestinians and Israelis are connected. Our fates, our futures, our heartbreak, and our potential for peace are bound together. Both are children of Abraham.

Hillel reminds us that we have to be for ourselves. But we can not forget his next sentence: If I am only for myself, who am I?

Both are true at the same time.

We can stand with Israel and mourn the devastation and loss in Gaza.

We must.

I will conclude with another poem from Yehuda Amichai:

Poem: An Arab Shepherd Is Searching For His Goat On Mount Zion

by Yehuda Amichai

An Arab shepherd is searching for his goat on Mount Zion

And on the opposite hill I am searching for my little boy.

An Arab shepherd and a Jewish father

Both in their temporary failure.

Our two voices met above

The Sultan’s Pool in the valley between us.

Neither of us wants the boy or the goat
To get caught in the wheels
Of the “Had Gadya” machine.

Afterward we found them among the bushes,

And our voices came back inside us

Laughing and crying.
Searching for a goat or for a child has always been
The beginning of a new religion in these mountains.