By Micah Jones
On Friday, October 6, my wife and I enjoyed Shabbat dinner with our almost-ten-month-old son. This Shabbat was special as it was now the time of year where we could welcome Shabbat a little earlier in the evening, before our son’s bedtime. Even more so, our son was now old enough to sit at the dinner table with us and gaze upon the Shabbat candles and touch the challah as we sang ha-motzi. And most special, was my wife and I blessing our son and being together as a family:
Y’simkha Elohim K’efrayim V’khimenasheh
May God make you like Ephraim and Menasseh
Y’varekh’kha Adonai v’yishm’rekha.
Ya’er Adonai panav elekha vhuneka.
Yisa Adonai panav elekha, v’yasem l’kha shalom
May God Bless you and keep you.
May God’s light shine on you and be gracious to you.
May God’s face be lifted upon you and give you peace.
As my family and I sat around the dinner table, the holiness of the moment was profound and the sanctity of Shabbat was like a glow that wrapped us closely in its sheltering light. Within our house, in our little town outside of Boston, in the United States of America, my family and I were safe and well, and free to live our lives as Jews without fear of violence or retaliation.
The same could not be said for Jews in Israel.
I woke up on Saturday morning, October 7, to news of the unimaginable terror that had descended upon Israel. At the time of this writing, over 700 Israelis had been murdered, many Jews taken hostage, and thousands of rockets fired into Israel’s southern communities. On the fiftieth anniversary of the Yom Kippur War, Hamas had violated the sanctity of Shabbat to launch a surprise attack on Israel, once again plunging the country into chaos. I immediately texted my close Israeli friends whose reserve units had already been activated, as well as my cousin who had recently made Aliyah and was on lockdown in her small town. The situation was chaotic and undoubtedly would be intensifying over the coming days.
As I refreshed my phone for updates, I read that Prime Minister Netanyahu had declared that “Israel was at War.” Undoubtedly the IDF’s response will be substantial and justified, and I hope that Hamas leadership and its forces are eliminated, once and for all.
But as I read the news and received updates from my friends and family, I was overwhelmed by a sense of guilt and shame. There was nothing I could directly do to help my fellow Jews in Israel. My life would not be affected directly. I would spend the weekend with my family, going for walks, enjoying some leisure time, and spending quality moments with my son.
I was blessed to be a Jew in America.
It is this reality of comfort for American Jews that makes it difficult to comprehend the quotidian reality our fellow Jews experience in Israel. Especially in reform communities, many American Jews cannot comprehend why Israel must act the way it does—whether via its security posture or interactions with its neighbors. American Jews are so comfortable and so privileged in their safety that they cannot fathom that there are genuine forces of evil, like Hamas, that would like nothing more than to murder them simply because they are Jews. Rather, many American Jews turn a blind eye toward actual Jew hatred, like that spouted by Hamas, or other international actors, like Iran, and instead claim that real antisemitism is that which is found online on X (formerly known as Twitter).
Although Jew hatred does, occasionally, manifest itself in violence within the United States, as we have seen in the last few years in Pittsburgh and Poway, these incidences are few and far between. American Jews are blessed to live in a philosemitic country where they are welcomed in all aspects of society and government. But Jewish success and integration in America is rare when compared to the history of the Jewish people, and the reality of what Jews face the world over, and especially in Israel.
American Jews are not a monolith. They are not all Zionist, as I am, and many may never have been to Israel. In recent months, many American Jews have been extremely critical (unjustly in my opinion) of the Netanyahu Administration’s judicial reform efforts. But as American Jews read and watch the news this weekend, I hope that they will take a moment to give thanks for their safety here in America. I hope that they will think of their fellow Jews in Israel who are hiding in bomb shelters with their families. I hope that they will pray for those Jews who have been kidnapped by Hamas and may face fates worse than death. And I hope that we American Jews will offer our support to our brothers and sisters in Israel to ensure that Israel can rebuild and prevent such acts of war by Hamas from ever happening again.
Micah Quinney Jones is an attorney, a US Army veteran, and a pro-Israel advocate. He is a recipient of the Bronze Star Medal for Meritorious Service. Before attending law school, Micah served for over five years as a Military Intelligence branch detail Infantry officer in the United States Army. He was honorably discharged as a Captain in 2016. The majority of his military service was spent in the Army's 82nd Airborne Division. Read full bio here.