“I turn my eyes to the mountains; from where will my help come?”
Says Psalm 121. This image dwells within me during these times. The question is raised over and over again – from where will my help come? I am looking all around for help, for a solution that will lead us to better days. The question arises from the difficulties and from the agony – the one who turns his eyes to the mountains is no else then the one who stands in the Valley of death.
On October 7th 2023 Hamas terrorists waged a deadly attack on the people in Israel. It was a massacre full of cruel atrocities directed toward civilians, of different faiths and nationalities. And hundreds of innocent civilians were taken hostage – 133 of them are still there.
Since then, we are surrounded by death and fear, on all sides. So many lives were taken in Israel and in Gaza, and so many homes torn apart. In this delicate moment of war and agony in my homeland I want to sketch my role as a community rabbi and a religious leader.
As a Rabbi and religious leader, I am searching for mountains, down in the valley of death. Looking for a mountain, somewhere to anchor our hopes. What can be a mountain in times of crisis? What can remind me to keep hoping and praying for help?
At Moreshet Avraham community in Jerusalem where I am the Rabbi alongside my wife Rabbi Amirit Rosen, we found that within the shattered reality, there is a deep need for unity, for togetherness, even just in order to function on a daily basis. We found out that positive religious leadership in times of crisis can be a source of resilience. We realized that we can, as a community, address local needs. We offered daily programs for children, while the school system was closed. We collected food for families in need and opened our synagogue and bomb shelter to the whole neighborhood.
We held the hands of our long-time community member in the funeral of his grandson that was murdered in the attack. We held hands when a boy from the community reached his Bar Mitzvah ceremony, while his father was serving in the front line. We held hands when we supported each other and shared our fears and hopes. We held hands because we rediscovered the power of unity and partnership.
But unity and partnership cannot stop beyond the scope of our own community, we need to think and we need to act to spread this message of partnership wherever we can. How can religious leadership raise its voice of partnership in times of war? How can we gather a voice of faith that combines together different religious approaches?
These are questions that we asked ourselves as religious leaders and as peace activists. Among our discussion we realized how many connections still remains, even when the war is going on we have our interreligious partnerships that can serve as a bridge during this difficult time. These are delicate bridges that we need to protect. Rabbis for Human Rights, where I am serving as a board member, tried to address this challenge.
12 days into the war we had our first attempt to raise the voice of unity and partnership when we hosted an interreligious prayer on ZOOM. The meeting combined traditional prayers with personal ones, ancient prayers and new ones – allowing the words of the prayers to encourage us in this crisis. Over 300 joined us in the prayer. I am so glad that I had the Focolare in the Holy land among the partners for this event and they continue to be steadfast partners.
The interreligious prayer was the starting point for a series of interreligious events all around Israel and online. We celebrated together Hannukah, Christmas and a Ramadan Iftar, all in effort to embrace partnership between people of faith. As people of faith, we can support each other not to go through this crisis alone. Each connection is unique and important; therefore, we developed an interreligious forum that includes representatives from all of the many groups involved to plan ahead. Only together we can raise the voice of peace and hope. The war is terrible and the cost is immeasurable – but we cannot get lost in the valley of death. We need to turn our eyes to the mountains, and we need to create these mountains.
In time of war, when all is surrounded with despair, this is the time we should offer an alternative and hope for a better world. Several days from now, religious leaders from all around the holy land will gather in Jerusalem for an interfaith march for human rights and peace. It will be a time not only to declare our partnership, but also to act it. Religious leaders from different religions and denominations will hold hands and walk together in the streets of Jerusalem in order to create a different horizon for the future, together we can raise this voice.
I turn my eyes to the mountains;
from where will my help come?
My help comes from the LORD,
maker of heaven and earth.
Let me recite Psalm 121 as a prayer for peace and partnership in the holy land. I am asking you, religious leaders from all around the world – to raise your voices with me today, the voice of unity and fraternity. May the words that we will recite here in castle Gandolfo, Italy, strengthen the hands of everyone who searches for horizons of hope in the Holy Land.
A song for ascents.
I turn my eyes to the mountains;
from where will my help come?
My help comes from the LORD,
maker of heaven and earth.
He will not let your foot give way;
your guardian will not slumber;
See, the guardian of Israel
neither slumbers nor sleeps!
The LORD is your guardian,
the LORD is your protection
at your right hand.
By day the sun will not strike you,
nor the moon by night.
The LORD will guard you from all harm;
He will guard your life.
The LORD will guard your going and coming
now and forever.
