Rabbi 360

By now you have probably learned about the attack in Washington DC in which Sarah Milgrim and Yaron Lischinsky, two employees of the Israeli embassy, were murdered by a gunman outside the Capital Jewish Museum where they were attending an evening for young professionals. Information continues to emerge; there is video of the gunman inside the museum shouting “Free Palestine” after the killings.

In the wake of such an attack, I’m sure we are carrying a lot of emotions: grief, anger, fear, sadness. We grieve for the loss of young life and their families. We are angered by antisemitic sentiment turning violent. We fear and wonder about the safety of our own Jewish spaces. We are saddened knowing that violence subverts the cause of peace.

Additionally, this incident for me highlights why certain phrases and rhetoric of the current political moment can make us uncomfortable. Many of us support a free and safe and hopeful future for Palestine. At the same time we desire a free and safe and hopeful future for Israel and the Jewish people. And, it is not always clear when we hear calls for the former—on posters, at rallies—that they include or assume a call for the latter. This can understandably make us feel fearful. I would hope that this incident invites some reflection on the power of rhetoric to incite violence.

And the shooting also brings into clarity the misguided and dangerous conflation of the policies of the Israeli government with Israelis, and Jews in general. We must be able to draw this distinction. (The same is true for Palestinians vis-a-vis Hamas) While there are those who are quick to say that criticism of Israel is not antisemitic, it can be, if it doesn’t factor in the safety and survival of Jews, or targets Jews because they are Jews. 

I was originally planning on writing this week about the humanitarian aid crisis in Gaza, and the horror and immorality in policies that block access to much needed food and supplies, policies that are causing mass starvation, illness and death. As Jews we need to reckon with what is being inflicted on the people of Gaza, particularly children. I am hopeful seeing the many voices coming out of the Jewish world in support of such aid. I’m also still finding hope in the protests of Palestinians and Israelis against their respective governments, in the efforts of grassroots organizations advancing mutual recognition and cooperation, in the possibility of broad-based support for peace from across the region.

And while today my hope is tempered with sadness and horror at such a vicious and targeted attack, I am uplifted by the fact that the event Sarah and Yaron were attending was in keeping with this spirit of hope, an event focused on humanitarian aid and peacebuilding efforts. May all who mourn the loss of Sarah and Yaron–indeed it is all of us–find comfort, and may their memory inspire us to continue the difficult and sometimes dangerous work of building a future of compassion and peace.

And I offer this prayer:

With grief and anger and fear and a heavy heart,
May we realize that more violence will not bring peace.
May we understand the power of our words to bring about destruction.
May we end the dehumanization of others.
May we know that for one to be free all must be free.
May our hearts be big enough for all.
May we know that the only way forward is together.
May we work to ensure that love is stronger than hate.
May Sarah and Yaron’s memory be a blessing always.