Where Our Concerns Begin and Today May End

What follows is my sermon from Shabbat Lech Lecha, three weeks after the October 7th massacre. It is in part a response to a younger generation’s more universalist impulses.

I opened the Torah portion in the hopes that it would serve as a distraction from world events and in particular the struggles of our brothers and sisters in Israel. At first the effort proved a success.

We read about God’s call to Abraham—Lech lecha. He is commanded to leave his native land and journey to the land of Israel. There God promises he and Sarah will become a great nation. But after ten years Abraham and Sarah are unable to realize even the slightest glimmer of God’s promise. They are unable to have a child and thereby secure their promised future. Out of desperation Sarah instructs Abraham to sleep with her maidservant Hagar so that she might have a child through her. Hagar becomes pregnant immediately. Sarah quite understandably becomes enraged. Not so understandably she treats Hagar harshly and Hagar then runs away.

We find Hagar away from the protection of her home in the wilderness. God appears to Hagar. An angel of the Lord instructs her to return to Sarah. The Torah states: “An angel of the Lord said to her, ‘Behold, you are with child and shall bear a son; you shall call him Ishmael, for the Lord has paid heed to your suffering.’” (Genesis 16) Ishmael means God hears. Here is a remarkable fact. God names Ishmael from whom Muslims trace their lineage. Furthermore, God responds to Hagar’s suffering.

And then after twenty-five years of struggling to have a child God finally responds to Sarah’s pain. Fourteen years after Ishmael is born, Isaac is born to Sarah. Here is how the Torah opens the telling of the birth of the person from whom we trace our lineage. “V’Adonai pakad et Sarah—The Lord took note of Sarah as the Lord had promised. Sarah conceived and bore a son.” (Genesis 21) Sarah names her son Isaac. His name means laughter because she laughed when God reaffirms the promise that she would have a child at 90 and Abraham at 100 years old. That response of hers makes total sense. Isaac’s birth, like that of other biblical heroes, is miraculous. Sarah does not know what else to do but laugh.

I was immediately struck by two realizations. God appears to Hagar first. God appears to Hagar before speaking to Sarah. And number two. God responds to suffering—namely Sarah’s and Hagar’s—with compassion. I was flabbergasted by these discoveries. I was bewildered that my efforts to find a path away from the news proved ineffectual. These days I see the news everywhere. It is inescapable even in the Torah’s pages.

We live in a similar world to that of Sarah and Hagar, where Jews and Palestinians both claim the crown of victimhood. We shout at each other and say, “Our pain is greater than yours.” We both fight for the right to say God is on my side. We also live in a world where feelings take precedence over facts, so teasing out historical truths from such strongly held beliefs becomes difficult and nearly impossible. Sentiments are not the same as facts. Be clear about that distinction.

These days I am wondering, is it possible to hear the voice of Hagar’s descendants? Is it necessary to respond to Palestinian’s suffering with compassion? Yes. And yes. Is it also possible to prioritize the pain of Sarah’s descendants? Is it equally necessary to be more attuned to the suffering of our own people? Again, yes. And yes. Let me explain in more detail.

We should feel compassion for the suffering and pain of Palestinians. To suggest otherwise is a betrayal of our values. They too are held prisoner in Gaza by Hamas. Israel is not always perfect. Its actions are not always righteous. Guess what is also true and seems even more necessary to say? Israel is not entirely to blame. Let’s be crystal clear about this fact. At present Israel’s goal is to reestablish deterrence against future terrorist attacks. It is to reaffirm its sacred obligation to its citizens: to offer them safety and security within its borders, to return the hostages to their homes. Its goal is not vengeance. Its intentions are pure.

If the State of Israel’s goal becomes revenge, then we should raise our voices in protest. And this is why I will continue to protest against settlers who vengefully attack West Bank Palestinians and blame all Palestinians for Hamas’ evils. At present we should say loudly and clearly that we stand with Israel in its fight against Hamas and its right to safeguard the lives of its citizens while also saying that we are saddened by the deaths of Palestinians.

Our tradition has always balanced this idea and held on to these sometimes competing values. Take for example the story about the Israelites’ rescue from Pharoah’s army as they were fleeing from slavery in Egypt. According to our tradition when the Egyptian army was drowned in the Sea of Reeds the angels burst out in celebration and song. God silenced them and said, “My children are drowning.” Likewise, we do not rejoice at the deaths of so many Palestinians. It is deeply saddening. We are horrified by what is required and necessary to guarantee our safety from antisemitic murder. That Hamas is primarily to blame for these deaths should not mitigate the human tragedy. God silenced the angels even though Pharoah was entirely to blame. Similarly, we prioritize the needs of our own people. I am not ashamed of choosing my family first.

Of course, this war is going to be violent and even more bloody. Nation states are not perfect—most especially when they wage war, even those of self-defense. Nation states may not even be what we believe to be the universal ideal. But in this imperfect world they are all we got. And that is a basic tenet of Zionism. In a world of nation states we need our own just as the Palestinians need their own. Furthermore, in a world where far too many people, leaders and nations seek the Jewish people’s destruction, our only defense is a nation of our own. I am not embarrassed by Jewish power. I do not feel guilty about its oftentimes messy expressions. I seek to better it, and improve it, but I do not want to do away with it. The answer is not to give up power or to even have less power. I do not want to turn the clock back to hundreds of years ago. I recall our tragic history.

Here is my belief. We should seek to make the Jewish nation state as compassionate as possible, but never at the expense of our own lives, not at the expense of our family’s lives. My teacher Yossi Klein Halevi writes:

The Jews today are no longer helpless. We can defend ourselves, and we can strike back against those whose vision of a better world depends on our disappearance. If progressives seek to turn our reclamation of power into their symbol of human depravity, we will deal with that too. History imposes on Jews the responsibility to confront the moral consequences of power. But October 7 wasn’t a response to the abuses of Jewish power; it was a reminder of the necessity of Jewish power. In a world in which genocidal enemies persist, powerlessness for the Jewish people is a sin.

Powerlessness is a sin, most especially when facing such unimaginable evil. Zionism and Israel are about reasserting our own power over history. Israel must respond to Hamas with force. This does not mean we should let go of our compassion or a vision of better future.

Our people trace their lineage to Abraham through Sarah. Muslims to Abraham through Hagar. I choose the son of Abraham and Sarah. I choose Isaac. Others choose Ishmael the son of Abraham and Hagar. God responds to both with compassion. I wish I had God’s capacity to respond with compassion to both and to all. In God’s eyes all of life is precious. In my limited human view, I prioritize the lives of those I hold most dear. For now, in this imperfect and dangerous world, and in this moment most especially I choose Sarah’s son and my people. I will continue to struggle to reclaim my feelings of compassion for all. I recognize however that I can only do this when my family is once again whole.

Until that day I will pray for Israel’s strength and resolve. I will pray that the hostages are reunited with their families. I will pray for peace—first for my people and then for all people. “Oseh shalom bimromav—May the One who makes peace in the high heavens makes for us and for all Israel—v’imru: amen.”