Tag: jews

Holocaust Memorial Day

Holocaust Memorial Day calls us into a sacred kind of remembering, not distant or abstract, but close to the heart, where names, faces, and stories matter. We remember the six million Jewish lives stolen, alongside Roma, disabled people, LGBTQ+ people, political dissidents, and so many others whose humanity was denied. We don’t remember to wallow in despair, we remember because love demands truth, and because forgetting is the first step towards repeating.

Scripture doesn’t offer easy comfort here, but it does offer presence. “The Lord is close to the brokenhearted and saves those who are crushed in spirit,” the psalmist writes, and we cling to that promise for every life shattered by hatred. The cry of Micah still confronts us with holy clarity: God requires us “to act justly and to love mercy and to walk humbly with your God.” Remembrance, then, is not passive, it’s a call to live differently.

We hold the tension between grief and hope. We name the darkness honestly, because anything less would betray the truth, yet we also dare to believe with John’s gospel that “the light shines in the darkness, and the darkness has not overcome it.” That light flickers in every act of resistance to hatred, every stand against prejudice, every choice to protect the dignity of another.

Today, we remember with reverence, we lament with sincerity, and we commit ourselves again to compassion, justice, and courageous love, trusting that God’s memory is deeper than ours, and that no life, no story, no tear is ever forgotten.

Critique Power, Not People

Jews around the world are not responsible for the actions of the Israeli Government, just as people of any faith or ethnicity aren’t accountable for the decisions of a state that claims to act in their name. Judaism is a diverse global religion and culture, not a single political position, and Jewish communities hold a wide range of views about Israel, its leadership, and its policies.

To conflate Jewish identity with the actions of one government is both inaccurate and unjust, and it risks fuelling antisemitism by treating a whole people as a monolith. Political criticism, however strong or necessary, should be directed at those in power and at specific policies, not at ordinary people who share neither responsibility nor control. Upholding this distinction matters, because justice depends on fairness, clarity, and the refusal to blame the many for the choices of the few.

It isn’t antisemitic to criticise the Israeli government or its policies, just as it isn’t prejudiced to challenge any other state’s actions, provided the focus remains on decisions, laws, and leaders rather than on a people or a faith. Antisemitism targets Jews because they are Jews, while legitimate political criticism questions power and policy, and confusing the two silences necessary debate while doing nothing to protect Jewish communities from real hatred.

Holding this line clearly and carefully allows moral scrutiny without collective blame, solidarity without erasure, and disagreement without dehumanisation, so that our arguments aim towards dignity, safety, and peace for all. May that be our hope and our practice. Shalom.