President's Column - December 2024

Dear Friends,

In the second century BCE, the Holy Land was under the rule of the Seleucids (Syrian-Greeks), who sought to impose Greek culture and beliefs on the people of Israel, undermining their observance of mitzvot and devotion to G d. Against incredible odds, a small group of faithful but poorly armed Jews, led by Judah the Maccabee, defeated one of the most powerful armies of the time. They drove the Greeks out, reclaimed the Holy Temple in Jerusalem, and rededicated it to the service of G d.

When they went to light the Temple's Menorah (the seven-branched candelabrum), they found only a single cruse of pure olive oil that had not been contaminated. Miraculously, this small amount of oil burned for eight days—enough time to prepare a new supply under the proper conditions of ritual purity. Like Passover, Hanukkah is a celebration of freedom—freedom from oppression and the ability to practice religious expression. The Hebrew word Chanukah means "dedication," commemorating the rededication of the Holy Temple in Jerusalem.

The Festival of Lights, another name for Chanukah, is one of my favorite Jewish holidays. While other kids anticipated Christmas, I was eagerly preparing for Chanukah. Why? Because what’s better than freshly made latkes (with chives and scallions for extra flavor—delicious!), sufganiyot (Hebrew for doughnuts), playing dreidel with chocolate gelt as prizes, and lighting the menorah while singing traditional songs and blessings? (Ma’oz Tzur or Rock of Ages—is my personal favorite. My mom made my brother and me sing it every night of Chanukah when we were kids.) And let’s not forget the cherry on top: eight nights of presents!

Chanukah arrives each year near the winter solstice, when daylight is at its shortest. It’s a reminder that even in the darkest times, there’s always light ahead. As we enter winter and reflect on the ongoing war in Israel—now 14 months long—let us pray for light at the end of this dark tunnel. Just as the oil miraculously lasted eight nights, let us hope for a miracle: the safe release of all remaining hostages. That would truly embody the spirit of Chanukah.

I want to take this opportunity to express my gratitude to the TBT Board of Trustees, the Leadership Council, our clergy and staff, and all the amazing volunteers who dedicate themselves to our incredible community. A special thank-you goes to two remarkable lay leaders, Suzy Frisch and Andrea SanMarco. Their tireless efforts— whether supporting our staff, stepping in during crunch times, or simply always being present—are invaluable TBT wouldn’t be the same without their dedication. Thank you both!

Nes gadol haya sham —“a great miracle happened there.” These words, inscribed on the dreidel, remind us of the miracles Chanukah represents. May the light of this season inspire all of us to shine brightly, even in challenging times, and to dedicate ourselves to something greater—this extraordinary TBT community.

Happy Chanukah from my family to yours!
Josh Broder,
President, Temple Beth Tikvah

Temple Educator's Column - December 2024

The TRUE story of Chanukah

The difference between Jewish and secular calendars this year means that Religious School is not in session for Chanukah. We adapt. And that to me, is the lesson of Chanukah – and of the Jewish people for that matter. We survived nearly 2,000 years of exile and being kicked out of nearly every country and city state in Europe – not to mention the Roman empire, the Crusades, the Inquisition and the Holocaust – by adapting. We continually find ways to not simply survive, but to thrive and find new joys in living Jewishly.

I am going to share some historical accuracy with you now. Do not confuse that with Truth. Truth is what we believe in our hearts. Sometimes it is informed by historical events. Sometimes by our beliefs. If hearing something different about Chanukah will disturb you, I urge you to scroll to the next article. This is not something that you NEED to know.

Still with me? Judah and the rest of the Maccabees were real. We have lots of contemporary evidence. It is extremely unlikely, however, that any of them ever heard about a little jug of oil that burned for eight days. The first time we hear that part of the story is in the Babylonian Talmud, written 460-660 years after the actual events.

In the First Book of the Maccabees, written just four years after the war, the dedication is celebrated for eight days just as the original temple dedication under King Solomon and dedication of the tabernacle in the wilderness with Moses, Miriam and Aaron was held. And Judah declared all Jews everywhere should celebrate each year.

Forty years later, it seems that Jewish communities outside of the land of Israel were not celebrating Chanukah. So, a Second Book of Maccabees was written. “They celebrated it for eight days with rejoicing, in the manner of the Feast of Booths, remembering how not long before, during the Feast of Booths, they had been wandering in the mountains and caves like wild animals.” It seems the holiday soon gained traction in the diaspora communities after that. Still no oil though.

One hundred and ninety or so years after the original events, Flavius Josephus describes the first Chanukah. Josephus had been a Judean general in the war against Rome that resulted in the destruction of the second Temple in Jerusalem in 70 C.E. He went over to the Roman side and spent the rest of his life writing about Jewish history and customs. Historians believe that he was trying to create an image of the Jewish people in the minds of the Romans that would lead them to think we were not a threat and should leave us alone. He wrote: “Judah celebrated the festival of the restoration of the sacrifices of the temple for eight days, and omitted no form of pleasures…” A very Roman type of simcha.

Finally, Pesikta Rabbati is a collection of Midrashic tales written in the land of Israel in the 8th or 9th century CE. while the land was under Muslim rule. In it we read “When they entered the Temple, they found eight rods of iron (spears), which they hollowed out and then kindled wicks in oil which they had poured in the grooves.” This version reminds us of turning swords into plow shares – making weapons into tools of peace. A good metaphor while living under foreign rule.

So too, the Talmudic story of the oil teaches those around us that we are not looking for a fight. God made the miracle of the oil and the victory of the few over the many – not humans. We celebrate God and our faith not war.

In each case, we adapted. In each case we recast the story in a way that gives us reason to celebrate. I am not debunking the story of the oil and its miracle. I am saying we have four more facets to the jewel that is Chanukah. They are ALL our stories.

And I am sticking to them. I invite you to join me. No need to tell the young kids just yet.

L’shalom,
Ira Wise, Temple Educator

Rabbi's Column - October 2024

Dear Friends,

This month marks one year since Hamas’ brutal attack on Israel. The hostages are still held captive. As I write these words, it looks as though a full-scale war may erupt in Lebanon. Susan’s friend in Israel’s north has been texting her from a bomb shelter. Any hope of a speedy resolution has long since evaporated. Israel’s suffering is great. The suffering of the Palestinians, too, is great. Our hearts break again and again as we confront the human toll and fading prospects for peace.

It pains us to see a country we love in such straits.
It pains us to witness the suffering of our Jewish siblings.
It pains us to know that our people remain implicated in a cycle of violence and reprisal that Israel’s existence was mean to end forever.

In the words of Rachel Goldberg-Polin, mother of hostage Hersh Goldberg-Polin z”l:

There is a lullaby that says your mother will cry a thousand tears before you grow to be a man.
I have cried a million tears in the last 67 days.
We all have.
And I know that way over there there’s another woman who looks just like me
because we are all so very similar
and she has also been crying.
All those tears, a sea of tears,
they all taste the same…

It didn’t have to be this way. Last Rosh HaShanah, I shared my concern that Israel’s extremist government threatened its Jewish and democratic character, and obstructed the road to peace. Then came October 7th. A systemic failure of Israel’s security apparatus evolved into a war in Gaza that, over time, felt motivated more by vengeance than by any coherent strategy. Prime Minister Netanyahu has clashed publicly with his own defense minister, Yoav Gallant, over that very point. The centrist MK Benny Gantz resigned from the war cabinet earlier this year in protest. He claimed that Netanyahu was more interested in retaining power than reaching a planful resolution and freeing the hostages. And it’s not just Gantz: for months, hundreds of thousands of Israelis — including the families of many hostages — have protested his intransigence. Of course, none of this comes as a surprise: for years, Netanyahu has repeatedly, publicly, opposed peace. His support of violent extremists and immoral settlement policies in the West Bank is a stain on Israel’s conscience, and I believe it makes Jews around the world less safe. Most Israelis want Netanyahu out of office, but his coalition is still hanging on — for now.

On a different front, world Jewry has confronted an explosion of antisemitism. (Let's call it what it really is: Jew-hatred.) As you know, the numbers were already trending in the wrong direction before the war, but this year things have reached a new low.

▪ When I read the text messages exchanged among Columbia University deans;

▪ When I studied the Stanford University report detailing not merely discrete incidents, but rather a pernicious culture of hate;

▪ When I have had to console TBT students who have been taunted, followed, and harassed;

▪ When I confronted all this and more, I knew that the floodgates had burst open on both sides.

The rise of antisemitism on the left mirrors its long history on the right. Surely it cannot be out of bounds to criticize a government. But to blame Jews around the world for the actions of that government is unbridled antisemitism. To exclude people from bookstores or restaurants if they support Israel, is hatred. To hurl the word “Zionist” as an epithet, is bigotry.

Many of us feel we must walk an impossible tightrope: we support Israel’s safety, while we may have real qualms about its leaders and policies. Meanwhile the world seems to hate us no matter where we stand. To be sure, this is not a comfortable place to be.

As you might imagine, the High Holy Days will feel different this year. We need to mark this time as a community in solidarity with our Jewish siblings around the world. We need a place to process our grief. We need to draw strength from one another. Throughout the Days of Awe, you will find special sermons, music, and communal rituals. Between the holidays, we will gather at TBT to mark one year since the war began on Sunday October 6th, 12 pm. The following evening, on October 7th, there will be a ceremony of remembrance and solidarity with Israel, for the broader Jewish Community. All are welcome.

Finally, I urge you to please save the date for the weekend of December 6th-8th, when TBT will be privileged to welcome Times of Israel Senior Analyst Haviv Rettig Gur. Haviv is a remarkable thought leader. His visit to our community marks a truly special opportunity to learn and reflect. It is not every day TBT can welcome a speaker of his caliber, let alone for an entire weekend.

When I am feeling distraught, I remember that the pain of the Jewish people has often presaged new growth. Perhaps that is why Rachel Goldberg Polin concludes her poem with a hope that I would like to share with you. And so, I cite her poem again, this time in full:

All those tears, a sea of tears
they all taste the same.
Can we take them/ gather them up,
remove the salt/ and pour them over our desert of despair
and plant one tiny seed.

Shalom,
Rabbi Danny Moss

President's Column - October 2024

Hello TBT Community,

In Jewish tradition, the concept of repentance is known as teshuvah, a Hebrew word meaning “return.” One of the Hebrew terms for sin is chet, which signifies “going astray.” Therefore, in Jewish thought, repentance is viewed as returning to the path of righteousness.

Although teshuvah can be performed at any time, the High Holiday season, particularly Yom Kippur, is regarded as a special period for this process. According to Maimonides, repentance involves three key steps: confession, regret, and a commitment not to repeat the misdeed. A true penitent, Maimonides teaches, is someone who, when faced with the same temptation, refrains from committing the sin again. Additionally, prayer, charity, and fasting are believed to aid in gaining forgiveness.

Jewish tradition distinguishes between two categories of sin: sins against G-d and sins against others. Only sins against G-d can be atoned for through confession, regret, and a vow of change. However, sins against other people require not only personal repentance but also making amends — for example, offering restitution for a financial wrong and seeking the victim's forgiveness. It is up to us, as individuals, to forgive one another for personal wrongs; even G-d cannot force forgiveness between people.

In the spirit of this tradition, I want to ask forgiveness from anyone I may have wronged over the past year, whether knowingly or unintentionally. I also offer forgiveness to those who may have wronged me, hoping that in this new year of 5785, we can all strive, as Maimonides suggests, to be the kind of person who chooses not to repeat past mistakes.

On a personal level, I want to focus on becoming a better person in this new year. I hope to listen more and speak less, to be more patient and less impulsive, to think more deeply and assume less. I aim to be a better son, father, husband, brother, friend, colleague, and leader (especially here at TBT). Most of all, I want to begin the journey toward being the best version of myself.

In these challenging and uncertain times, I encourage each of you to reflect on ways you can grow in the coming year. I also hope that part of this growth involves becoming more engaged with TBT and the broader Jewish community. With antisemitism on the rise and hatred surrounding us, we need each other more than ever. Our TBT community is here to share in the joys and sorrows, to support each other through it all.

As we approach the High Holidays, the holiest time of the Jewish year, I wish all of you a happy, healthy, and sweet New Year. I look forward to celebrating and praying with you, and to connecting with each of you during these Days of Awe. May you be inscribed in the Book of Life this year, 5785.

Shana Tovah,
Josh Broder
President, Temple Beth Tikvah

Temple Educator's Column - October 2024

From the Education Center

This month we will all spend a lot of time thinking about (and hopefully doing) T’shuvah - repentance. The High Holy liturgy and all of the practice surrounding the Days of Awe demands that we atone, we change our hurtful behaviors and seek to make restitution with those we have wronged. Remember this for a moment while I digress, please.

When I started working in the religious school as a ninth grader in Chicago, they called me an aide. By the time I became a teacher eight years later, we were calling teens doing this work Madrikhim. (A boy was a madrikh and a girl was a madrikhah.) It means “leader or one who shows the way.” It was a good name. And that was what we were calling them here at TBT through last May.

Hebrew, like French and Spanish, is a gendered language. It is simply how it developed from ancient times. And I am sure you are aware that the language surrounding gender in our society has become very fluid and somewhat complicated. When we get it wrong – in the eyes of the person about whom we are speaking – we may cause pain, harm, and even alienation. It does not matter that we did not intend to do so. The impact of our words matter.

This past spring the Education Committee had a discussion about this and came to the conclusion that we need to do a bit of T’shuvah. It is entirely possible that we have not had a single madrikh or madrikhah who identified as non-binary. It is also possible that we might have, but the titles we used for teens who just wanted to connect and help teach kept someone away who did not identify as male or female. We may be lucky and can fix the language before someone feels that their temple does not have a place for them in this role.

So, the committee has changed the name of the group to the Hadrakhah Team. Hadrakhah means “leadership,” so the basic intent is the same. These teens are still showing our younger learners the way to go forward. And we will call them Hadrakhahniks – a word that is a bit of mixed language salad, but a word pioneered by the Kibbutzniks! It will take time to wrap our tongues around this change, but it gives us the opportunity to be as welcoming as we have always tried to be.

L’shanah tova u’metukah and G’mar Chatimah Tovah,

Ira Wise
Temple Educator

Rabbi's Column - September 2024

Dear Friends,

In 1727, Benjamin Franklin assembled a small group of friends to form the Leather Apron Club. They would gather weekly to discuss the great quandaries of human nature with an eye toward mutual self-improvement. Franklin's vision was to pursue character refinement through 13 virtues such as temperance, justice, and humility. He believed that personal growth was a dimension of civic responsibility and that building an ethical populace was a prerequisite for a more perfect Union.

In his autobiography, Franklin later reflected that these weekly "debates" were … "to be conducted in the sincere spirit of inquiry after truth…" without any desire to win. In fact, Franklin describes how, wanting to keep things calm, the group rejected expressions of absolute certainty, which they "prohibited under small pecuniary penalties." [!!]

Franklin’s legacy of statesmanship and self-improvement are worthy of emulation. In anxious times like these, his idea may strike us as more than a little quaint; his rules of discourse, a tad naïve. But if we’re honest, the dramatic national political issues inflated with urgency and outrage by an apoplectic media culture do not always reflect our day-to-day lives. Rather, most of us stand to make the greatest impact locally: in our congregation, our community, and our homes.

Judaism believes (and I suspect Franklin would agree) that the most important level is to start with the person in the mirror. That’s why we have the Hebrew month of Elul, a penitential period of personal reflection leading up to the High Holy Days. That’s what the High Holy Days are all about.

Given that this is an election year, I thought I’d try something new.

On four Wednesdays after Labor Day, we will revive Benjamin Franklin’s Leather Apron Club. Together we will immerse ourselves in Franklin’s teachings — and here’s the twist — through a Jewish lens. As we enter the contemplative month of Elul and navigate a crucial election year, we will place Franklin’s virtues in conversation with the timeless wisdom of Pirkei Avot, an ancient collection of ethical wisdom from the Mishnah. Together we will discover how these principles can coalesce into our fully American, fully Jewish lives. I hope that our time together will give us renewed optimism and hope about what we can accomplish in the year ahead.

Simply RSVP to Caroline in the office (office@tbtshoreline.org) to sign up. You’ll find more information in the following pages.

Oh, and I promise there will be no pecuniary penalties.

Shalom,
Rabbi Danny Moss

Temple Educator's Column - September 2024

From the Education Center - Let’s Play Two…

The summer of 2016 was amazing for me. In our family we had new jobs, a high school graduation and the last child was off to college. Special for us, but most of you have those things happening as well. If not that summer, then another. Those of you that know me are aware that summer was amazing for me in particular for one other reason: The Chicago Cubs.

My Red Sox fan friends chortled “Now that we’ve had a few World Series, it might as well be your turn.” And I remind them that Red Sox have NEVER been the longest suffering team in baseball. They missed that honor by ten years. And in 1918, they beat…the Cubs. But I digress.

My beloved team was in first place the entire season. They last did that in 1969, and Mets fans know how that turned out. I digress again. I mention this here because I need to explain the baseball bat I have hung in my office. It is a metaphor for Jewish learning.

The bat is signed by Mr. Cub, Ernie Banks, one of the heroes of my childhood and was a gift to me from my previous congregation on the occasion of my 10th anniversary as educator. Whenever someone said “Hey Ernie! It’s a beautiful day for a ball game!” he would respond: “Let’s play two!”

I would tell this story whenever teaching about the Yotzer or Ma'ariv prayers. These are prayers we say as part of our regular worship service, praising God for creating the world in which we live. (We say Yotzer in the morning and Ma'ariv at night.) I would explain that Ernie believed that when it is a beautiful day, we need to show God our appreciation by doing the things we love best and by sharing it with others we love. For Ernie it was playing baseball and sharing it with all of Chicago. I was fortunate enough to meet him in the 80’s and confirm that is what he meant.

So what does the bat have to do with Jewish learning? Jewish learning – doing it myself or facilitating it for others – is the thing I love doing best. Ernie’s bat reminds me that no matter the weather outside, it is ALWAYS a beautiful day for Jewish learning.

Whatever your age it is a beautiful day for Jewish learning.

Our Preschool gets fully underway on September 3rd.

Religious School begins on Sunday the 8th.

The Curriculum Working Group and the Education Committee have been working through the summer to imagine what that will look and feel like.

Torah Study has been continuous, and the Program Committee just arranged for our wonderful Scholar-in Residence who will be coming the first weekend of December.

When it comes to Jewish learning, let’s play two!

L’shalom!
Ira Wise

Education Director's Column - January 2024

Are you ready for the summer?

I have been quoted as saying that overnight Jewish summer camp is the most valuable thing you can give your child after connecting them to a congregational community and teaching them to care about being Jewish. (I have suggested many other things that it is the best thing after, but let’s stick to the Jewish stuff.) My wife Audrey, I, and both of our adult sons are products of Jewish summer camps, and we all went on to become counselors and more. In fact, we believe much of how we parented our sons is based on what we learned as camp staff.

Camp is an immersive experience. You learn about being part of something by being part of it. In a Jewish camp, Jewish identity, Jewish ideas and Jewish values are built into everyday living. Kids there do all of the fun summer stuff: sports, arts and crafts, hiking, drama, music, climbing and ropes courses, laying down in the grass with your friends and declaring what clouds look like, and even repairing the world. It is a safe cocoon – some camps call it the Bubble – where they can help one another get on with the business of figuring out who they are.

On Sunday, January 21, we will be hosting several overnight Jewish Camp representatives from 11:00 a.m. – 12:30 p.m. They will each have different activities for the kids as they move through their stations, giving them a taste of camp. Parents are invited to join us and to have more focused conversations about the possibilities for your children down the road.

Some of our kids are already planning to attend a camp this summer. They will simply have fun. Others might go to an overnight camp in a year, or three, but are not ready for this summer. They will also have fun. We are not trying to convince anyone to go to camp right away. We are trying to plant the seeds with them and with you to think about Jewish summer camp when they and you are ready.

All of the camps we have invited participate in the One Happy Camper program sponsored by the Foundation for Jewish Camp. It offers a significant scholarship for ALL first-time campers at Jewish summer camps, regardless of financial need. They do it because they agree that Jewish Summer Camp is that important to the Jewish development of our kids. I look forward to seeing many of you there!

L’shalom,
Ira Wise Interim
Director of Education

President's Column - January 2024

Dear TBT,

Happy New Year! As Jews we are lucky to celebrate the new year not once but twice a year. As we do on Rosh Hashanah, we now have the precious opportunity to reflect on the passing year and commit ourselves to positive change and growth for 2024.

What was your resolution? Google tells me that the top resolutions are 1- quit smoking, 2- exercise more, 3- eat healthier, 4- lose weight. I must admit that some of these have been on my list in the past. Now I am looking for something more meaningful, more specific, more spiritual.

I encourage each of you to consider making a meaningful resolution that will enrich your spiritual lives and contribute to your overall well-being. Whether it’s dedicating more time to prayer and meditation (Shabbat services, Saturday morning meditation), extending acts of kindness and compassion to others (Chesed committee), learning something new (Israel book group, Talmud study group, Torah study group), making new friendships (Haverim/ Kol Ami groups), or working to make our community and world more just (the social justice committee). Let’s embrace these resolutions with sincerity and dedication.

My resolution is to make a better effort to meet and get to know our new TBT families. We have had over 30 new families join TBT in the last few months. This speaks to our new beautiful building, the strength of our religious school and preschool, our meaningful services, our interesting and fun programming but mostly it speaks to the need for Jews to gather in community together. We need each other. We need to know that we are not alone. On February 11th, I will be hosting a new member’s luncheon at my house. If you have joined the synagogue in the last year, you will be receiving an invitation. I hope you will come. I am so happy to have you join our TBT mishpacha and want to get to know you.

I am proud of the strength of our community in 2023. I reflect on our first high holy days back in our renovated synagogue, our vibrant religious school with our new director, our full preschool with noisy happy children, our Israel vigil right after Oct 7th, our volunteers planting a beautiful garden, our book club (over 50 strong) to discuss the history of the Israeli-Palestinian crises, and most recently our Hannukah gathering with over 100 people lighting menorahs and eating brisket and latkes. May we grow on these strengths in 2024.

May the coming year be filled with blessing, spiritual growth, and peace. Peace in the Middle East, peace in our country, peace in our homes and peace in our hearts.

Happy New Year,
Karen Goldberg

Rabbi's Column - January 2024

Dear Friends,

A richly developed ethical system is one of Judaism’s gifts to the world. If you understand just two concepts, you will begin to see why.

The first concept is from the very beginning of the Torah. After creating a world full of substance and life deemed tov (deeply good, harmonious), God created human beings. But unlike every other creature, the Torah (Gen. 1.26) describes human creation with the phrase (b’tzelem Elohim) — in the image of God. This means that, among other things, all human beings are equally deserving of dignity, safety, and love. No exceptions.

The second concept comes from the Exodus story. Just a few chapters after escaping Egypt, The Israelites are already told, “You shall not wrong or oppress a stranger, for you were strangers in the land of Egypt.” (Ex. 22.20). This statement and others like it appear dozens of times throughout the Torah — The Talmud counts 36 of them — more than any other ethical requirement. Therefore, we must remember the suffering of our past, Torah commands. But if our suffering is only about us, we have missed the point. Our history of homelessness implies a special responsibility toward others in their homelessness.

Tzelem Elohim — uncompromising dignity.
Yetziat Mitzraim — uncompromising empathy.

These ideas are simple enough to understand, but difficult to apply. And that is because moral decision-making seldom demands a clear choice between right and wrong. More commonly, we must choose between right and right; or wrong and wrong.

Such is the case in this terrible ongoing war between Israel and Hamas. We all want the fighting to be over, but what of the hostages? What of Hamas’ unambiguous promise to massacre Jews again and again? On the other hand, what does it mean for Hamas to be eradicated altogether? Is that even possible? And if so, what will rise in its place? Who will lead the Palestinians out of their suffering? One can kill people, after all but not ideas. And in the wake of the untold devastation, the radicalization of another generation begins and the cycle of conflict continues. This is, after all, just what Hamas hoped would come to pass.

As I said, the choices here are between right and right; between wrong and wrong.

As students of history, and as moral agents with a stake in this conflict, it is incumbent on us to consider our responsibility. The conflict between Israel and the Palestinians has everything to do with dignity and empathy — two of our most deeply held values.

I find it excruciating to hold the full moral weight of this conflict, when our people are still held as hostages, our soldiers are dying, and the hatred toward Jews around the world skyrockets. Israel has worked in good faith for peace with the Palestinians over decades, without success. (I highly, highly encourage you to listen to Ezra Klein’s excellent recent interview with veteran US Peace Negotiator Aaron David Miller to learn more about this.)

And yet…
And yet.

There are other truths that we must acknowledge:
● An extremist, nativist Israeli government has brought Israel to this moment through its expansion of settlements, dismantling of its democratic institutions, and dehumanization of its perceived adversaries;
● Gaza is little more than an open-air prison. But even before the war, life for Palestinians was often unbearable. In the West Bank, civilians are constantly subject to checkpoints, arbitrary detentions without due process of law, violence from Jewish settlers, home demolitions, and all manner of indignities that accompany military occupation. On the Israeli side, there’s the psychological toll that such occupation takes on the (mostly 18-20-year-old) soldiers who enforce it.
● Palestinian refugees, numbering now in the millions, continue to live in camps throughout the middle east, largely abandoned by their host countries. (Except for times such as this, when international media attention makes their suffering politically exigent.)

The moral responsibility for the plight of the Palestinians is blindingly complex. But we don’t have to unravel all of that to know that, as an occupying power, Israel bears a tremendous moral responsibility. This seems unfair given the asymmetry of this conflict — one tiny Jewish state in a sea of Arab hostility — and given our history of persecution. Yet, today, the onus is on Israel to be the most ethical, the most responsible; the most sensitive of the values of Tzelem Elohim and Yetziat Mitzraim.

Anyone who thinks this conflict is one-sided is living in an alternate reality. Still, even knowing that there is pain and blame to share, I will not make excuses for supporting my people. I will fight with all of my soul for my people. That is an important part of justice in this conflict.

In Letters to My Palestinian Neighbor, Yossi Klein HaLevi writes that “a terrifying conditionality haunts our return [to Israel].” I think one of the things he means by this is that Israel’s miraculous existence demands a new responsibility on the world stage to global Jewry. And we have the reciprocal obligation.

With fervent prayers for Shalom,
Rabbi Moss