On October 15, 2023, Temple Beth Shalom in Melrose, Massachusetts held a town-wide communal mourning service.

The synagogue community had come together for a Jewish ritual event earlier in the week, but this gathering was open to all. As someone who has been deeply connected to Israel and strongly committed to fostering a shared future for Israelis and Palestinians, I knew how divisive this meeting could have been.  

Nevertheless, despite people’s particular political leanings, our community held the moment’s complexity – including our horror, anguish, and fear. 

The first non-Jewish person who called me after the October 7 Hamas attacks was a friend of the synagogue, Maya. She is Lebanese Muslim and a city councilor in Melrose. We cried together. I asked her if she wanted to come to the service. After reflecting on it together, she decided to go and speak to the assembled group. Everyone who spoke that day did so from the heart, crying and mourning from the bimah (lectern). 

It meant the world to me that Maya shared this moment with us, and I reciprocated a few months later at a Palestinian gathering. 

Since then, four of us have been meeting to talk: Maya, an Israeli woman with Kurdish roots, a Palestinian man, and me. We do not always agree, and this can be deeply painful. But one core principle keeps us together: We have a shared future. Both Jews and Palestinians view themselves as indigenous peoples of the Holy Land; we cannot erase the other. 

Together, my dialogue partners and I have written and spoken about the ills of Islamophobia and antisemitism and how inflammatory rhetoric only fuels the flames of intolerance and perpetuates the suffering of people near and far. 

Sometimes, we take long breaks from our conversations, needing to feel angry or hopeless, but we come back together repeatedly. 

I do not know if my path is the “right” one. It is certainly not the only one. Some may judge my efforts as naive or futile, claiming I should spend more time defending my people. Maya faces similar backlash from members of her community. But no matter how painful and scary things are for us in Melrose or greater Boston, we are not being bombed and attacked as those living in Gaza or Sderot. And so, we are not allowed to turn away from our neighbors — including our Muslim and Jewish neighbors. We must not settle for a zero-sum viewpoint where we can only empathize with our people. I cannot ask this of those living through war and bloodshed, but I can demand it of myself and call on others living in the United States to do so. 

I do not know if I am “right.” None of us knows if we are right. But if we open our hearts and lead with civility, dignity, compassion, and hope, I genuinely believe we can help create a different future. 

Sometimes, we take long breaks from our conversations, needing to feel angry or hopeless, but we come back together repeatedly. 

The best part of studying at Hebrew College is the havruta (peer learning) experience. Day after day, you sit with a classmate you may not have known well before this and spend countless hours unpacking sacred texts together. We often read things differently or draw conclusions from different backgrounds and perspectives. But sooner or later, we learn how to navigate complex, sometimes painful, conversations while continuing to tend to our havruta relationships. 

In engaging in this intense interpersonal and textual training, we seek to follow the model of the ancient sage, Hillel, and his students. As the Talmud (BT Eruvin 13b) teaches, the House of Hillel is regularly deemed the “winner” of their debates with the House of Shammai not because they possess ultimate truth but because of their behavior during these debates. This includes the ability to listen so carefully to the views of their opponents that they can faithfully repeat these ideas before attempting to refute them. 

If we are doing havruta study well, we, too, can hold different ideas and possibilities. 

When it comes to Israel and Palestine, I can carry on an endless debate myself – playing the role of both Hillel and Shammai! However, we must engage with others passionately and empathically to make constructive change on this seemingly intractable issue. 

Both middot (values or virtues) are necessary if we truly want to advance peace and justice and not just win an argument. 

Editor’s note: This article was first published on May 28, 2024, by Hebrew College. It has been lightly edited for clarity and length.