A few days ago, Rabbi Zoe B. Zak from Temple Israel of Catskill asked me to write something for tonight's Sabbath service -- something that spoke to the hostage situation in Israel.

This gave me pause and one more opportunity to reflect -- specifically on what, if anything of value, did I have to say about this great tragedy and from what persona of mine would I speak?

As a member of this temple? A Jew? An American? A man? A father? A poet? A Democrat? A peace advocate? A lifelong seeker of truth?

There are so many ways to look at things, so many points of view, so many sides of the story.

At first blush, like all of you here tonight, my heart goes out to the hostages and their families. I can only imagine if it were my children who had been taken hostage... or my friends... or my parents. I have no words to describe the feelings I would be having, never having lived through this nightmare myself.

Nor do I have words to describe the feelings of the hostage-takers and what drove them to such an action in the first place.

Here's what I know: thoughts and prayers are not enough to heal the pain that the people of Israel and Palestine are experiencing. Nor is political posturing, protest marches and whatever cease fire or truce is eventually agreed on -- especially since we all know that whatever cease fire or truce is agreed on will only be temporary and that the deep-seated hatred and antagonism that both sides have for each other -- along with their own "proof" for why their stance is well-founded -- is likely to continue.

Here's what else I know:

We were not born to hurt, fight and kill each other. We were born to experience love, kindness, compassion, consciousness and true humanity.
Demonizing the so-called "other" is easy to do. It has become a sport on planet earth -- which, as far as I can tell, is a planet of duality, one of the great challenges facing all of us -- the apparent dance of opposites:

Up and down... in and out... black and white... good and bad... East and West... North and South... hot and cold... male and female... light and dark... now and later... hard and soft... you and me... us and them... Israel and Palestine.

This duality, deeply embedded into the DNA of every single person that walks this earth very much affects our perceptions of life. "Otherness" rules us in just about every aspect of our lives. And this otherness blinds us to our common humanity in such a vile way that it makes it insanely difficult to experience each other as brothers and sisters... or children of the same God.

We have all been taken hostage by this mindset of otherness. We have all been kidnapped by an invisible force that makes it extremely difficult to come from a place of love instead of hate, compassion instead of destruction, kindness instead of killing.

Personally speaking, I have seen and felt a lot in my 76 years.

I almost died at 21, just three seconds away from drowning. Three years later, when I was 24, I met a great being and experienced my timelesss, true nature beyond the circumstances of my life. I saw an angel when I was 27 -- not in my imagination, but in my room. I worked in an Islamic school for a year -- the only Jew among 1,000 Muslims. I have walked the halls of power in corporate America, for 35 years, invited by that curious slice of humanity to open their minds to new possibilities. I have brought two children into this world, written seven books, and watched Fiddler on the Roof six times.

Speaking of which, there is a scene in that movie that has always stayed with me -- one that has relevance to the world we now find ourselves living in. Perhaps you remember the scene.

Tevye, the town milkman and also the town wise man was walking through the town square when he encounters two villagers arguing loudly about a transaction they recently had. Apparently, one of the men sold a horse to the other, but the other man is now insisting it was not a horse, at all, but a mule. When they see Tevye, each of them turns to him and vehemently makes their case.

After the first man tells his side of the story, Tevye strokes his beard and says "You're right!"

Then the second man, with an entirely different story of the transaction, makes his case to Tevye.

Tevye listens, strokes his beard and says. "You're right!"

A third villager, standing close by, who had been watching the argument play out for the past ten minutes then turns to Tevye and says, "Wait a minute, how can he be right (pointing to the first man) AND he be right (pointing to the second man)?"

Tevye listens, strokes his beard, and exclaims "YOU'RE RIGHT!" Then he starts dancing, embodying in that highly-charged moment, something far beyond right and wrong.

This story may sound cute to you or not at all applicable to the awful situation in the Middle East. But it is neither cute or naive. There is a lot of truth in it.

Until and unless, we -- as a species -- get to a place beyond our cultural perceptions of right and wrong -- we will always be fighting, always killing, always taking others hostage and more fundamentally, taking ourselves hostage.

What I am talking about has nothing to do with the laws of mankind. It has to do with the laws of life and the almighty -- that which not everyone agrees on, selectively quoting from their favorite scripture or interpretation of their favorite scripture to support their own point of view.

What can YOU do in regard to the hostage situation in Israel? What can you do in regard to the horror show going on in the Middle East these days -- and let us not forget the war between Russian and Ukraine.

That is for you to decide.

You can send thought and prayers. You can send money. You can send ambassadors. You can protest. You can write letters. You can come to services like the one here tonight. And all of these approaches, of course, have their place and time.

But ultimately, all of us -- you and me and everyone else who is not in this room tonight -- will need to find our own way back to peace -- the promised land that is not a physical place, but a state of being, a state of consciousness -- one whose natural attributes are love, kindness, empathy, compassion, selflessness, and the recognition that all people, regardless of their apparent differences, skin color, religion, language, politics, education, or perceptions are children of the same God -- all here to experience true love and forgiveness.

For now, before I take my leave, I invite you to close your eyes, take a long slow breath, and get in touch with one step you can take, one move you can make, to bring more love, kindness and understanding into this world -- starting tonight, in this room right now, in your home when you return there, and tomorrow in your community or wherever you can reach out to someone with love in your heart and the timeless recognition that we are all in this together.

Shalom! As-salamu alaikum to you all!

MitchDitkoff.com
Unspoken Word
My peace poetry Facebook group

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