Yom Kippur Morning 2025
Rabbi Laurie Zimmerman
Congregation Shaarei Shamayim
October 2, 2025
Congregation Shaarei Shamayim
October 2, 2025
“Gaza is Hungry”
Usually when I give a sermon on Israel, or Israel-Palestine, I try to start with a story or a joke. It feels too jarring to jump into a tense and difficult conversation without something. But I couldn’t really think of any stories or jokes.
After 22 years at this congregation, I would think that talking about this issue would be easier. But that’s not the case. The political discourse has gotten increasingly acrimonious. The spectrum of belief has gotten wider, the polarization deeper, the intensity of emotion so much stronger.
Some of us might be wondering how we can possibly sit together, as a community, and pray when the person sitting next to us or in front of us is a Zionist, or an anti-Zionist, or a non- or post- or counter-Zionist. Or when the person sitting next to us doesn’t have the interest in defining themselves with those labels.
We do not have consensus on what to call the bloodshed in Israel and Gaza. Is it the Israel-Hamas war? The Israel-Gaza war? The Israeli war on Gaza? The Gaza genocide?
Our media sources are different. We flood ourselves with images of starving hostages or images of starving Gazans. Israelis in bomb shelters or Palestinians fleeing from bombs.
We do not have consensus over whose voices most need to be heard. Just over 2,500 Israelis, both civilians and soldiers, have been killed or taken hostage since October 7, 2023. Over 66,000 Palestinians in Gaza have been killed, with close to 1,000 additional Palestinians killed in the West Bank. Over 3,500 Palestinians are being held without charge or trial.
If we look only at numbers, perhaps I should speak about Palestinians 28 times as much as I do about Israelis or Israeli Jews. But if we uphold ethnic solidarity, I should focus my comments only on Jews, because I am one.
I do not believe that we will reach agreement with one another. But I do believe we can make space for each other. We need to recognize each other’s pain and be curious enough to listen to each other.
We are an inclusive community, and so I want to say, very clearly: Everyone is welcome. Your ideas and your experiences matter. We can disagree, but my goal is, again, to create enough space to recognize each other’s pain and be curious enough to listen to each other.
In this room there are people with deep roots in Israel. You are Israeli citizens, or you have Israeli family, or you have lived in Israel, or you just feel a really deep connection to the Jewish state. October 7 was devastating and it was personal. You knew people who were killed and taken hostage. You read Israeli media every day. You may oppose the government, but support for Israel as a Jewish state is non-negotiable. Israel must be strong because its enemies want to destroy it. There is no self-determination for the Jewish people without Israel, which is the Jewish people’s historical and religious homeland. To deny that is immoral.
In this room there are people who worry about antisemitism. You cringe when you see “free Palestine” scrawled on the wall of a synagogue. You are outraged that the home of the Jewish governor of Pennsylvania was targeted in an arson attack during Passover. The huge increase in online antisemitism disgusts you. You are upset about antisemitism on campus. When Jews are threatened, harassed, attacked, or murdered because they are Jewish, you are terrified. It is clear that American Jews need to prioritize our own safety.
In this room there are people who are so sick of Israel co-opting American Jewish identity and practice. Judaism is important to you. That means Jewish prayer, ritual, text study, and culture. These practices are much older than the State of Israel. Israel has become the religion of American Jews, and you do not appreciate being judged by the actions of the Israeli government. You go to synagogue because you find it comforting and enriching; it should have nothing to do with Israel. You worry about college students who will walk away from Judaism because they do not wish to be identified with Israel on campus. As a Jewish person, you don’t want engagement with Israel to be the center of your Jewish life.
In this room there are people who are outraged by the Israeli onslaught of Gaza. You might have supported the war after October 7, but no longer. Israel’s starvation of the Palestinian population was a step too far. Israel’s disregard for the hostages was another step too far. Israel has been so important to you, and you are inspired by the Israelis who are protesting the war. But Israel was supposed to be about creating a just society where Jews can flourish. You feel heartbroken that the institutions and people who taught you to love Israel have remained silent. Still, you might still support Israel. Or your support is fragile. Or it has broken.
In this room there are people who have been protesting the destruction of Gaza since October 8. You have Palestinian friends who have lost dozens of family members. You might have Palestinian friends who are themselves starving or dead. You were taught “Never Again,” and that means “Never Again for Anyone.” You can see plainly that Israel is committing genocide, and your Jewish values demand that you do not keep silent. You feel profoundly betrayed by a Jewish community that is colluding with authoritarian governments in the United States and Israel. Israel has created an existential threat to Judaism and the Jewish people, because our ethical tradition will not survive Israel’s decimation of Gaza.
These categories are imperfect. We move in-between them. We identify with more than one of them or only part of one. But they serve as a marker of American Jewish identity in 2025.
Even as we create space for each other and express curiosity towards each others’ identities, we passionately disagree with each other. About Zionism. About Israeli and Palestinian histories. About how bad things are. About who deserves blame. About future solutions.
The dividing lines between us, at this moment in history, manifest around Zionism, definitions of antisemitism, and whether what is happening in Gaza constitutes genocide. These are really significant issues, and I don’t want to minimize them. But I think these are limited frameworks that prevent us from discussing deeper and more important issues.
I want to travel back 1900 years in time to a debate in the Talmud between Rabbi Akiva and his student, Simeon Ben Azzai. The question was, “What is the most important principle in the Torah?” Rabbi Akiva says, “Love your neighbor as yourself” (Leviticus 19:18). But Ben Azzai counters him with the creation story in Genesis. The most important principle, he says, is “This is the record of Adam’s line.” (5:1). From context we know he is referring to what follows: “When God created humankind, humans were made in the likeness of God” (Genesis 5:1). (Jerusalem Talmud, Nedarim 30b)
“Love your neighbor as yourself” means that we should act towards our neighbors as we would wish them to act towards us. There is a sense of camaraderie, of connection to one’s neighbor, a sense that we are supposed to treat each other well in a community. Relationships are essential.
Contrast that with a statement that all people are created in the image of God. For Ben Azzai, it does not matter how human beings feel towards each other. All human beings are holy, and we are required to treat each other with dignity and respect, regardless of any other factor.
Love is great, but how we treat others should not rest on good feelings or emotion. We cannot command someone to love. Sometimes it is impossible to love another person.
“Neighbor” in this context probably does not refer to Jew, but the word is subjective. One could narrow the definition to people who look and act like us. Ben Azzai teaches us that we need standards for people who are not our neighbors as well.
For both reasons, he says, our system of ethics should be based on dignity and respect for all human beings.
Immediately following the debate in the midrash, the text warns: “One should not say: Since I have been humiliated, let my fellow also be humiliated; since I have been cursed, let my fellow also be cursed.” Our behaviour, and our sense of right and wrong, cannot rest on our subjective experiences – because each and every human being is created in the image of God (Bereshit Rabbah 24:7).
What does this have to do with Israel, Gaza, and the West Bank? It teaches us that we need universal standards of morality that are greater than our emotions or our family stories or our personal experiences. We might have deep love and connections to Israeli Jews. We might pray for the hostages every day. Loving our neighbor is a beautiful thing. But there is an even greater principle in the Torah: All human beings are created in the image of God.
I don’t really care whether someone identifies as a Zionist, an anti-Zionist, a non- or post- or counter-Zionist. I care that someone believes that the life of a Palestinian is of equal worth to the life of a Jew. I care that someone believes that a Palestinian and a Jew are both created in the image of God.
This is the standard that we need. This is the standard around which we can unify.
I believe that if we embrace this standard, then we can — and should — embrace the standard of International Humanitarian Law. Largely created as a response to the bloodshed of the Holocaust and World War II, it was an attempt to prevent war and brutality in future generations. It is limited and imperfect, but it does set universal rules which include:
You may not target civilians.
You may not forcibly displace civilians.
You may not starve civilians.
You may not torture or execute a prisoner.
You may not commit acts of collective punishment.
You may not commit acts intended to destroy, in whole or in part, a national, ethnic, racial, or religious group.
On October 7 Hamas undoubtedly violated these basic tenets of international law. It is illegal and immoral to target civilians. No matter what.
But, Israel did not just defend itself. It took revenge on over two million people. Israel made the present and future far less safe for both Israelis and Palestinians.
Its government, and much of its population, did not pay attention to the teachings of Ben Azzai: The life of a Palestinian is of equal worth to the life of a Jew.
Over the last two years, Israel has, in the words of the midrash, humiliated its neighbor, because it was humiliated. It has cursed its neighbor, because it was cursed. Hamas perpetrated horrific crimes and massacres on October 7. Hostages languish in unspeakable conditions in Gaza. But the midrash is clear: The Israeli government is not permitted to bomb and demolish and starve Gaza. This is a desecration of God’s creation.
Israel’s bombing campaign has spared nothing and no one. The destruction is catastrophic.
Almost all of Gaza’s homes and residential buildings are gone.
Almost all of its hospitals and healthcare facilities are gone.
Almost all of its universities and schools are gone.
Almost all of its facilities to provide clean water, sanitation, electricity, and fuel are gone.
Almost all of its agriculture is gone.
Almost all of its mosques, churches, cemeteries, and other religious sites are gone.
Almost all of its museums, libraries, archives, cultural centers, and archeological sites are gone.
Almost all of the food is gone.
The prophet Isaiah told us, on the holiest day of the year, that we are to share our bread with the hungry.
This is the fast I desire:
To unlock fetters of wickedness,
To let the oppressed go free;
To share your bread with the hungry.
Gaza is hungry.
At this dark time I do not know what will be effective to stop the killing and stop the death. But I do know that all human beings deserve food, safety, and freedom.
Maybe Rabbi Akiva was right: “Love your neighbor as yourself.” Treat your neighbor – your friend, your fellow, the person across the border – in the way that you wish to be treated. You want to have food, safety, and freedom? So give that food, safety, and freedom to the people of Gaza.
Or maybe Ben Azzai was right. The life of a Palestinian is of equal worth to the life of a Jew. A Palestinian and a Jew are both created in the image of God. You may not target a civilian. You may not destroy a society. You shall feed the hungry.
Gmar chatimah tovah. May every human being be sealed for good.
Tue, October 7 2025 15 Tishrei 5786