Just yesterday, I was seated in the shade by the glistening Sea of Galilee, listening to my new friend Reverend Cynthia Atkins preach.

Rev. Atkins began by teaching the non-Christians (three rabbis and one Hindu pundit) what the eight Christians in the group already knew about Jesus’s teachings in the first-century synagogue there in Capernaum. And then she preached, bringing me to tears. About how to bring our truth, our messages, to people who don’t see what we see. About how to build a shared society even when people aren’t ready for it. She quoted her husband, Bishop Reginald Atkins—a NJ State Assemblyman, who was there with us—on the work of making the world a better place: “You gotta see what you believe, and not believe what you see.”

The first Interfaith Clergy Mission to Israel run by the Jewish Community Relations Council (JCRC) and Greater MetroWest Federation was potent and powerful. We visited the Old City of Jerusalem. We drove north, through the West Bank, to reach the baptismal site at the Jordan River. My Christian friends dipped their feet in the water, but you cannot cross, as the river is the international border with Jordan; we wished the man across from us a good morning in Arabic. We met the religious leader of the Druze community and learned from an Israeli-Arab journalist. We drove south and met with the Jewish, Arab, and Bedouin schoolchildren of the bilingual public school in Beersheva. We learned that Israel is imperfect as is our own nation, but that it is deeply invested in building a shared society with its diverse population.

In Kibbutz Nir Oz—where one in four residents was killed or taken hostage—a former hostage described her experience on October 7 and being held by Hamas. She showed us how they are restoring the desecrated kibbutz without damaging the trees or gardens they have lovingly nurtured in the desert. We placed flowers and balloons at the home of the Bibas family, and witnessed the country covered in signs praying for the return of the hostages. In Tel Aviv, we visited Hostage Square and met Ilay, the brother of Evyatar David, taken from the Nova music festival, who as a 26-year-old man is not on the list of the current hostage-ceasefire deal. “We are worried that after this everyone will forget the rest,” Ilay said. We assured him we would not.

For me, this was against the backdrop of the protests in front of Oheb Shalom the day before I left. All week I’ve been holding two truths: that there are those who really don’t see the world the way we do, whose antisemitism is devastating in Israel and terrifying to us here. And that we have many friends and allies, and that is where hope resides.

I believe in goodness, not evil. In love, not hate. In hope, not despair. Don’t just believe what you see—see what you believe. And then manifest it, make it true.

I saw, but can’t believe, that such mean-spirited protesters came onto our property and called us horrible things last weekend. I can’t believe that hosting two IDF soldiers committed solely to search and rescue (of all nations) would bring such condemnation from some. I can’t believe that anyone could fail to see what I see, that accusations of genocide and racism are deeply antisemitic. I can’t believe that in 2025 so many people are so invested in taking down Israel through alignment with a cause that sounds just but is so deeply misinformed. I see, but can’t believe, that the Jewish community explaining over and over our terror of that alignment falls on deaf ears and hard-hearted denial of wrongdoing.  

But I also see that there is only one letter of hate in my email inbox, and dozens of notes of support. That in addition to the many Jewish institutions that reached out, the SOMA Interfaith Clergy Association publicly posted a letter (here, below my letter to you and that of the other synagogues) decrying hate and standing with us. That the mayors of South Orange and Maplewood condemned the protests and offered their help. That we heard from Congressman Mikie Sherrill, who came to meet with our president and immediate past president this week, as well as Congressman Josh Gottheimer, who expressed his support. That a group of a dozen clergy of various faiths were willing to travel all the way to Israel to deepen their knowledge and their own spiritual connections to the land and to us, the Jewish people.

At our closing dinner, we took turns sharing what we were taking away. Every single person around the table shared that their understanding of this war, and of Israel as a whole, had transformed. That the number of dead doesn’t tell enough of the story, doesn’t help anyone understand how we got here and how hard it is to get out. As Suzanne Ludlam, one of the leaders of the Latter Day Saints community, put it: the generation of young people in Israel is standing up to defend themselves against an enemy who wants them dead. It is our turn to stand up for them and teach our children to do so as well.

“It is not your task to complete the work, nor are you free to ignore it,” taught Rabbi Tarfon (Pirke Avot 2:16). We have a lot of work to do, too much for any one of us. What we see is not the end of the story. We build the world we believe in by seeing it in our hearts. And then, together, we can do our part in making that a reality.

May it be a shabbat shalom here and in Israel.

P.S. The next time I will be in Israel will be with Oheb Shalom! Priority registration for our Family Trip to Israel is open. Families with children around b-mitzvah age are invited to register now. For more information on the trip, click here. Please note that registration for other age/stage cohorts will be based on availability. To express interest in joining, click here.