The Dead Child- a prayer from the ashes of October 7
As we remember the horror of October 7 and the aftermath, the words of Menachem Rosensaft bring us a somber resonance. Let this day of remembrance stir us to mercy for the child, not because we doubt our cause, but because we cherish our conscience.
“the dead child
in gaza city
khan younis
rafah
is cried over
with the same tears
by the same God
the same Allah
the same Adonai
as the dead child
in kfar aza
nahal oz
be’eri
…
and it is
for the not yet dead child
palestinian child
israeli child
muslim child
jewish child
that the killing must end
the war must end
the terror must end
the hatred must end”
—Menachem Rosensaft, from Burning Psalms: Confronting Adonai after Auschwitz (Ben Yehuda Press, 2025)
Shabbat October 3, 2025
October 7 Commemoration
L’Shana Tova
Shabbat Shalom
As we prepare to welcome Shabbat, let the prayer of Joey Weisenberg help lift you up.
Shabbat Shalom
#BringThemHomeNow
Does the kippah on my head place a target on my back?
With the increasing violence in public spaces, maybe the answer is yes. What should I do about it? I could cower; many people have said they remove their Jewish symbols, like a Chai or Magen David, because they fear being targeted.
I have been wearing a kippah for many years, and since the war started, I wear a kippah with the Israeli flag and the words “Am Yisrael Chai” stenciled inside. I am proud to show who I am and what I stand for. But does it come with any risks?
My kippah has actually been an invitation for people from all walks of life to approach me. At a Costco, on a turnpike rest stop, or while walking on the street, people offer words of encouragement and support. Most people are decent folks. Most are not looking to harm others; they are living their lives and caring for their loved ones, just as I strive to do.
We must not allow acts of violence from uncontrolled radicals to control us. Those responsible for protecting us face a significant challenge, and a system based on freedom rather than repression often leaves them a step behind in safeguarding our rights and safety. They require additional support to perform this vital work. We can help.
We need to get out, gather, socialize, and connect with others. We don’t have to agree, but we must show we care. We need each other. The hateful rhetoric shouldn’t be fought with more hate, but by reaching out, creating, and living in the society we believe in.
My kippah is a symbol and a call to the people I meet that our humanity continues to thrive. That is the kind of target I strive to be.
What am I entitled to?
What can I or any member of society reasonably expect? What is it that each of us deserves, and who provides it? This is a question to ask of our society and the communities in which we live. I think it’s fair to say that most of us want to be valued, seen, heard, and shown a modicum of respect and dignity. Our Jewish tradition offers us “rules of the road” to guide proper behavior, including how we treat others and how others treat us. Our government has also set certain expectations. According to our founding documents, we are entitled to life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness. Of course, understanding what these mean and how to provide them to each citizen is a very complex task. Sometimes we handle it well, but often we fall short as a country. This creates the core tension and highlights the need for ongoing conversation to truly understand what these rights mean.
The lack of conversation and understanding that there are multiple ways to achieve solutions creates problems in our society. Both the left and the right become more entrenched in political arguments instead of engaging in meaningful discussions about what these issues truly mean. For example, regardless of politics, most people of goodwill would agree that allowing children to go hungry should not happen in this country. But how do we feed the hungry children?
This is a process argument, not about the underlying value, and here is where our faith tradition becomes a vital guide.
One of our core wisdom texts, known as the Talmud, provides a roadmap for understanding. A fundamental value is introduced, followed by a series of discussions, debates, and disagreements. “Makhloket L’Shem Shamayim,” an argument for the sake of heaven, seeks to understand how the underlying value manifests itself in various circumstances. The arguments, including both the majority and minority views, are presented in this book. The reason is that even the winning argument may not always be correct. In the future, the dissenting opinion that was once preserved may be proven right if cultural or societal norms change.
In the debate about feeding hungry children, parents are primarily responsible, but if they are unable to do so, the community should step in and provide food. But how does the community feed the hungry child? That raises an important question about the process. There is also legitimate disagreement about how to deliver food to hungry children. It can be through a government program. It can be achieved by providing money so that others can obtain food, or by helping parents improve their living standards, enabling them to afford to feed their children. And to make things even more complex, what does alleviating hunger actually mean?
Are we required to feed children according to a specific nutritional standard? How much influence should outside forces have over family decisions? What happens when parents are incompetent, and what occurs when nutritional standards are set or changed—something we’ve seen happen many times in the past? All of this assumes that well-meaning people are committed to preventing children from going hungry.
Some people only care about themselves, ignoring everyone else. Others realize that society should be judged on whether all who are hungry are fed. Still, others believe it is simply the morally right and ethical thing to do.
Questions like these are fundamental, which is why today’s tribal politics are counterproductive. These politics don’t help us address our societal obligations or what I am entitled to; instead, they emphasize power and control and vilify the opposing side. We must ask the right questions, engage in meaningful conversations, reach a conclusion, and then act on that decision. This presents both a significant challenge and a valuable opportunity for building a thriving, vibrant, and just society. Let’s start discussing what truly matters.
Psalm 27 is added to our prayers during Elul and through the chagim.
We prepare ourselves for this special time with the prayer that we might dwell in the house of the Divine. May your experience this season be meaningful, filled with reflection, repentance, and renewal.
Thanks to Chava Mirel for this beautiful rendition of Psalm 27:4.
Shabbat Shalom
#BringThemHomeNow
Shabbat Shalom
This Hungarian orchestra shares Tumbalalaika.
It is a love song in which a young man seeks a bride who can answer three riddles as the balalaika plays. As we greet the Shabbat bride during Elul, the question perhaps is flipped: Will we be worthy of the bride?
Shabbat Shalom
#BringThemHomeNow

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