4 hours ago
5
ARTICLE AD BOX
Let us pray that we may all find the strength to face the challenges ahead with grace and determination and avoid the destructive recrimination that accompanies the all-too-common blame game.
By JONATHAN LIEBERMAN JANUARY 17, 2025 20:46
RABBI SHMUEL LUBECKI stands amid the damage after an knife-wielding attacker set fire to the synagogue, in Rouen, France, last May. Recently, it was vanadalized with swastikas. Around the world, our people are under attack, the writer laments.
(photo credit: GONZALO FUENTES / REUTERS)
As I sit down to write this piece, my heart is both full and heavy.
Full, because, as those of you who read last week’s column will know, I have just spent 10 days on an intergenerational pre-bar mitzvah journey with my son and grandson from Australia—a journey that took us through the multicolored landscapes of our homeland and heritage.
Heavy, because this bittersweet chapter is closing as they prepare to return to the far side of the world, taking with them, I hope, a deeper appreciation of our people’s rich and complex history and the sacrifices made by countless heroes who paved the way for us to walk this sacred ground.
This trip has been a reminder to me, not only of the resilience of the Jewish people, but also of the unending struggles we face, both in our homeland and across the Diaspora.
The legacy we inherit is not static: it is a living, breathing responsibility. Each generation must grapple with its own questions, its own trials, and its own hopes for a brighter future.
As I write, the air is thick with uncertainty. The deal to secure the release of hostages hangs precariously in the balance. Will it succeed? Will it fail? Is it even the right course of action? Is it a good deal or a bad deal? Have we won, or lost? How much pressure have outside forces (eg. President-elect Trump) put on both sides – not just Hamas?
These questions swirl in every conversation, in every heart. Who should bear the blame for the horrors of October 7? Who should be held accountable? And perhaps the most daunting question of all: What do we do next?
The weight of these decisions is staggering. Each option seems to bear its own set of risks, its own moral quandaries. The voices on either side of every argument are compelling. For every right-wing perspective, there is an equally passionate left-wing counterpoint. For every humanitarian impulse, there is a potential consequence that must be carefully considered. The complexity is dizzying.
We need precision and wisdom
THIS MOMENT in our history requires the precision of a brain surgeon and the wisdom of King Solomon. But how do we achieve clarity when we are so deeply invested, so profoundly intertwined with the outcome?
As a doctor, I know all too well the difficulty of treating one’s own family. The emotional stakes are simply too high to maintain the objectivity required for sound judgment. And in many ways, this is where we find ourselves now—a global Jewish family grappling with decisions that will shape our collective future.
Stay updated with the latest news!
Subscribe to The Jerusalem Post Newsletter
Around the world, our people are under attack. Synagogues are being burned. Jewish students face open discrimination in institutions that claim to uphold the ideals of higher learning. In Israel, our sons and daughters risk and often lose their lives to protect the freedoms many take for granted.
How can we not be deeply moved, deeply invested? How can we not yearn for the swift and safe return of every hostage? And yet, this deep investment clouds our ability to think rationally about how best to achieve this goal.
I will not pretend to have the answers. Like the vast majority of us, I lack access to the full scope of information available to those charged with making these excruciatingly difficult decisions. My opinions, like most, would be shaped by fragments of information, by rumors and speculation rather than the nuanced truths that lie beneath the surface.
So instead of offering opinions, I choose to offer prayers. I choose to offer empathy. I choose to give comfort where I can to those who are hurting, I choose to give support to those who are fighting, and I keep my mouth closed about my opinions on the “deal.” And I humbly suggest you all do the same.
We can pray for the negotiators, that they may be guided by wisdom and strength. We can pray for the hostages and their families, that they may find comfort and hope in the darkest of times. We can pray for our leaders, that they may act with courage and integrity in the face of impossible choices.
Growing up in the UK, I vividly remember the Shabbat prayers for Queen Elizabeth II and the rest of the Royal Family.
The rabbi would recite them with solemnity and purpose, and the words remain etched in my memory to this day: “May He put a spirit of wisdom into her heart and into the hearts of all her counselors, that they may uphold the peace of the realm, advance the welfare of the nation, and deal kindly and truly with all the House of Israel.”
Today, those words resonate more deeply than ever. This is my fervent prayer for our leaders now: that they may navigate this storm with wisdom and compassion.
IN THE face of such profound challenges, what can the rest of us do? Perhaps the greatest act of solidarity is to stand together, and to refrain from casting judgment without understanding the full picture. We can channel our energies into acts of kindness, into strengthening our communities, and into remembering that we are part of something greater than ourselves.
This journey with my family has reminded me of the enduring strength of our people, but also of the fragility of the world we live in. Each generation is called to write its own chapter in the story of the Jewish people, to face its own challenges with courage and resolve. We are not passive inheritors of this legacy: we are its guardians and its authors.
As my son and grandson board their plane back to Australia, I am filled with hope that they carry with them not only the memories of this journey but also a sense of responsibility to continue the work of building, preserving, and strengthening our people.
And as they go, I remain here, steadfast in my belief that through prayer, through unity, and through unwavering commitment, we can navigate even the darkest of times.
Let us pray for wisdom. Let us pray for peace. And let us pray that we may all find the strength to face the challenges ahead with grace and determination and avoid the destructive recrimination that accompanies the all-too-common blame game.
The writer is a rabbi and physician who lives in Ramat Poleg, Netanya. He is a co-founder of Techelet-Inspiring Judaism.
English (US) ·