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