October 30, 2026

A vote is an expression of the world we hope to create. Election results are a snapshot of the world in which we are living at a given moment. How might we think about building such a world? For the Diaspora Jewish community, we have an interest and concern in the outcome of that election, but most of us cannot vote. Here in the U.S., our voice is our vote, and yet our vote cannot be all that we do to build the world we want to create.

If elections are a snapshot of a society at a given moment, what can we learn about Israeli society? There are real concerns about key issues: accountability for October 7th, conscription of Haredi Jews to serve in the IDF, judicial reform, the lack of a conclusion to the multi-front war, and Jewish violence in Judea and Samaria/the West Bank. For Arab citizens of Israel, there was an entirely different set of concerns, which included rising crime in their neighborhoods and profound frustration with the ultra-nationalist policies of Itamar Ben-Gvir in Judea and Samaria/the West Bank that impact their family members.

What we have learned is that Israeli society is an incredibly diverse place. Arab citizens of Israel voted in numbers that have never been seen before and, according to early election results, have won as many as 19 seats in the Knesset. We have learned that there is a strong group that wants change and a different way forward. We have also learned that there are many in Israel who are still concerned about their security and believe that the war against Hamas was not a total failure.

When Israelis entered the voting booth and put the slip of paper representing the political party of their choice into the ballot box, they voted with a vision of what they hoped to create. The only way forward in forming a government is for some parties to go back on campaign promises (i.e., forming a coalition with Netanyahu) and form a unity government representing the center. If they fail to do that, we will see another round of elections in the spring. (To learn more, see The Times of Israel, The Jerusalem Post, Haaretz, or podcasts from Ark Media or Ask Haviv Anything with Haviv Rettig Gur.)

Looking here, our concerns are diverse: rising gas prices and other related costs, immigration policy, the wealth gap, the economy, and the ongoing war with Iran. In the Jewish community, we are also concerned about Jewish safety and the rising wave of antisemitism, whether that is based in classic antisemitic tropes or the new wave of anti-Israel sentiment. What is the snapshot of our country we will see on Tuesday evening as our votes are counted?

If our vote is our expression of the vision of the world we want to create, then the work is not only about voting. It is about how we live our lives in the days between elections. While we cannot control things like fuel prices or current policy decisions, we can be on the ground doing the sacred work to care for people in our own communities. On Wednesday morning, people will still wake up in our community facing hunger; we will still ensure that there is a security presence keeping us safe in our community; we will still do the work we do to support vulnerable neighbors; and we will continue to ensure that we feel a profound sense of Jewish pride and that we know our Jewish story.

As I was listening to analysis of the Israeli elections earlier this week, I was struck by Yossi Klein Halevi’s response and insight. Yossi is a scholar at the Hartman Institute in Jerusalem and co-hosts a podcast with Rabbi Donniel Hartman. Yossi is among the camp that wanted to bring about profound change in Israel. He is a voice of the center in Israel. When he faced his disappointment with the elections, he said, “People who voted differently than I did love this country as much as I do.” That is profound wisdom. If we can sit back and reflect on people who cast their votes differently than we do, and we can remember that they love Israel or the U.S. as much as we do, what might that say about how we can do the sacred work to build the vision of the country we hope to create?

Perhaps we can be guided by our tradition, in which we learn from the Talmud in tractate Sanhedrin (17b) that a Torah scholar is not permitted to live in a community unless it has ten things: a court, a charity fund, a synagogue, a bathhouse, a public bathroom, a doctor, a scribe, an artisan, a cook, and a teacher of young children. These categories reflect a community that wishes to have a sense of order that abides by law, that takes care of its most vulnerable, that is concerned about health, and that cares about learning, beauty, and recording our collective stories. As we enter Shabbat, may we do the sacred work that builds a community with those same shared concerns held by our ancestors.

Shabbat Shalom,

Rabbi Rick Kellner

October 23, 2026

I was not among the early watchers of “Nobody Wants This” on Netflix, though I did love the first season of the show. In my opinion, the second season left something to be desired. For those unfamiliar, the hit Netflix show features Rabbi Noah Roklov, a single rabbi living in Los Angeles, who meets and falls in love with Joanne Williams, a podcaster who focuses on edgy topics dealing with relationships. Joanne is not Jewish, and we see how Rabbi Roklov navigates this relationship on both a personal and professional situation. The show also stars Jackie Tohn, a wonderful Jewish comedian whom I first met in preschool and went to high school with. Season 3 was released on Netflix earlier this week, and I don’t know that I can bring myself to watch.

Adam Brody, the actor who plays Rabbi Roklov, was recently asked by GQ about the conflict between Israel and Hamas. He said, “Put me down as thinking it’s a genocide.” I am wrestling with watching because when I turn to entertainment, I want to be able to escape and enjoy it. Watching every episode, knowing he has shared these words publicly, would bring the tensions I live with every day right in front of my face.

In all the time since October 7, I am not sure I have written about these fabricated charges against Israel. Genocide is a legal term that only came into existence following the Holocaust. It was created by Polish-Jewish lawyer Raphael Lemkin to describe the Nazi policies that sought to exterminate the Jewish people from the face of the earth. The term itself is now a legal term that requires the intent to destroy an entire people. Charges of genocide against Israel fit classical forms of antisemitism such as the blood libel or charging Jews with the worst evils a society can commit. In the 13 century, a Christian baby was found dead around Passover. Jews were blamed for his death and charged with using his blood to make matzah. Such charges continued throughout the centuries and led to pogroms and other violence against Jews. There was never any evidence to prove these false charges in what has come to be known as blood libel. The charges of genocide have led to violence against Jews today. We have seen this in attacks on synagogues as well as against individuals.

So many of us hear these claims and we might not have information at our disposal to respond. As I have shared numerous times, the loss of innocent life is deeply tragic, and we continue to be saddened by any innocent lives lost throughout the history of this ongoing conflict. To call this a genocide, however, is to put Israel in the same light as the Nazis, the Turks who perpetrated the Armenian genocide, and the Hutu extremists who perpetrated the Rwandan genocide against the Tutsis in which 800,000 Tutsis were killed in three months. It also takes away our status as victims of a genocide and denies us our own story, calling us perpetrators of such evil as well. The facts just don’t add up. As we look at the facts, no genocidal group would give polio vaccines to a group it was trying to annihilate; over a million were administered by Israel during the war. No genocidal group would drop fliers or make phone calls trying to protect innocent civilians from military operations; Israel did that repeatedly. No genocidal group would bring in over two million tons of aid.

Prior to October 2023, there were no Israeli military forces in the Gaza Strip. Israel did, and still does, maintain a military presence in the West Bank, but there have been no attempts to commit mass murder there. Earlier this week, Micha Danzig offered a close analysis in The Jerusalem Post of the number of deaths in Gaza. When you read this data, a genocide just doesn’t add up.

Ahmed Fouad Alkhatib, a Palestinian, former Gaza resident, and author of the book Hamas and Its Two Million Hostages, recently told Haaretz, “Genocide doesn’t happen because everyone says it was a genocide. Who even cares what Amnesty or Human Rights Watch say? They’re not genocide researchers. True, there are genocide historians like Omer Bartov who argue that there was a genocide, but they’re also not legal experts, and it’s the job of legal experts to decide whether it’s genocide or not. There are those who openly want to expand the definition of genocide so that what happened in Gaza fits this definition. The international courts in The Hague have not yet found conclusive proof or ruled that there was genocide.” The claims of genocide began before the IDF entered Gaza and there were even claims of genocide before Hamas attacked Israel on October 7.

So many people have come to believe this fabricated claim to be true because of what psychologists refer to as the Illusory Truth Effect. Dara Horn writes about this in her newest book. This effect was first established in 1977 after a series of psychological studies. It reflects the notion that an idea becomes a truth, whether it is plausible or not, whether it is true or not, after it is repeated frequently. According to Psychology Today, cognitive linguist George Lakoff suggests that the way to counter the Illusory Truth Effect is through what is known as a truth sandwich. You begin by mentioning the truth, briefly mentioning the falsehood, and then describe the correct information.

We have an incredible uphill battle to undo this falsehood. It has been repeated countless times, including in what many deem to be trustworthy sources.

Whether I can move past my own concerns about actors who feel they have to weigh in on issues they do not fully understand or have expertise in remains to be seen. I should add, I am not a legal scholar in this area either, but the historical claims of blood libel mirror what we are seeing today too closely. It is my hope that those who have wondered how they might counter these false claims now have a few pieces of information to do so.

As we think about Israel this week, we know Israelis will go to the polls this Tuesday. As they envision the future of the Jewish homeland, may they work towards a vision that helps build Israel as a Jewish and democratic state while upholding its founding vision as a beacon of peace and a light unto the nations.

Shabbat Shalom,

Rabbi Rick Kellner

October 16, 2026

Last week, as I anticipated my second presentation of the semester to the Worthington high schools’ Poli-Rad classes, I could not help but wonder if the work I was doing was worth it. Since 2022, I have visited this course once each semester at both Worthington high schools to teach about the history of antisemitism and how it impacts the Jewish community today. Since October 7, the work and presentation have become more difficult. It was far easier to talk about Kanye West’s tweets than it has been to help give context to the increasing anti-Israel sentiments they see on social media and perhaps even post themselves. I sit and I wonder if there is anything I can say that might give them a sense of reality and help them realize they are victims of a propaganda storm that has swept them away. 

Several years ago, it occurred to me that most of the students had met very few Jewish people and most likely knew next to nothing about Judaism or the Jewish people. I added a component of my presentation to teach about who Jews are and what we believe—that we are created in the divine image, that repentance matters, that we are called to care for the orphan, the widow, and the stranger, that we pray for peace at every service, and that we are connected to Israel. With insight from Dara Horn’s newest book, The Final Solution to the Jewish Question, I began to share that the “Jewish people are a joinable tribe with a shared culture, history, and homeland.” In reading her book, I think she would be highly critical of the work I am doing, but that’s okay. There is something to be said for standing before high school students, presenting something completely alien to them, especially when they are exposed to so much propaganda on social media that maligns Jews, the Jewish people, and Israel.

Several days after I visited the Thomas Worthington students, I received the reflections in the mail from the Worthington Kilbourne High School students whose class I visited in early September. As I opened the envelope, a bit of trepidation set in: What would the responses say? Would they refute everything I shared with material they gleaned from biased sources online; sources which they take as truth and are unable to recognize biases. I was pleasantly surprised to read that students recognize that Jews are a minority, and many people will never meet a Jewish person. They thought that implementing education about Judaism and the Jewish people would lead to fewer stereotypes. Another student empathized with the hate we have experienced as a Jewish community and hoped more people would come into classrooms and share personal stories and experiences because doing so could prevent future harm. They even said it was important to talk about antisemitic incidents in class when they happen in the world.

This recent presentation came on the heels of visiting the Dublin Coffman theater program, which is presenting “Come From Away” this week. Our very own Quinn Bailey will play the rabbi. They asked me to present on the Jewish themes in the show – welcoming the stranger and caring for those in need. While I thought I would present for about 15 minutes, I spent closer to 40 minutes with them. Their questions were profound, and the theater director thanked me for being one of the only religious leaders to be willing to come in and present to them.

As I reflect on this, I think about something I learned many years ago from my grandmother. She was a receptionist for five OB/GYNs and she worked into her 80s. Even in the heart of Long Island, her co-workers and patients would come to her with questions about Judaism. She would often answer, then come to me to ask if she was right or for the answer if she didn’t know. She helped me realize that we are all ambassadors for Judaism, whether we want to be or not. It is a tremendous responsibility that asks us to know a bit about our story. Being an ambassador for Judaism and the Jewish people helps those we encounter understand that we are real and not some mythical group of people that lives only on the pages of history books. It leaves us with the question: What would it take for us to feel confident in being an ambassador for the Jewish people? And how can we help you get there?

The students gave me hope, and it really is a blessing to do this sacred work.

Shabbat Shalom,

Rabbi Rick Kellner